#just havin em all there For Demonstration purposes

[coriandercurry]

Quiiiiiick lil tag dump

Tags I Have:

Kii be silly - random thoughts or comments/posts tag

Kii rbs - reblogs

Kii’s fandom art - art for fandoms I’m in

Kii’s original art - my oc art

Plans for (possible) future tags below the cut :p

Tags i might add:

- A tag that screams (Not mine!), maybe for other’s ocs or rb art i stumble across

- A tag for animations, wips, or scrapped projects

- A specific doodles tag, maybe not everyone wants to see em (/shrug)

- A suggestive or gore tag, if I ever go there :p (this will be accompanied by the art piece being shown below the cut, and a warnings page above said cut) ((hopefully I remember that ._.))

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Hi! I'd love to see more Homecoming! Maybe William can have that conversation with Bree... or maybe he can stop avoiding Rachel ^^ Thank you so much for all your work!

Book 9 speculation; William arrives at the Ridge with his cousin Dottie the same day that the MacKenzie family has made their unexpected return.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Homecoming - Part Eight

“Would ye no rather be helpin’ yer sister-in-law and her bairn to settle?” Roger asked of Ian and Rachel as they followed the children through the woods back to the big house.

“Mam has it all in hand and… if I’m bein’ honest…” Ian confessed quietly, “it’s a relief to have a break from her. I love her dearly but I’m no used to bein’ the only of her bairns wi’ her attentions. I think she’s in need of a wee change too and cleanin’ the cabin for Dottie while she and the bairn rest are as good for her as us.” Ian glanced briefly at Rachel who was preoccupied with Brian who’d sneezed. “Give her some time to adjust to what ye told her last night,” he added in a whisper.

“Well, I thank ye for letting me and the kids stay wi’ ye last night. Easier’n havin’ the carry ‘em all the way back.”

Germain and Jemmy had run ahead and were seeing who could climb a nearby tree fastest while Mandy hurried after and jumped to try to catch the lowest branch. Fanny appeared to be offering Mandy a lift but the youngest Mackenzie stubbornly refused the help.

“I am happy to have had the chance to meet thee and spend time coming to know thee,” Rachel said as she patted Brian’s back in the sling she wore across her front. “My husband has told many stories of thee and thy wife. I know he was sorry not to have thee with us when we were wed.”

“Aye well, there were many days when we would ha’ liked to have had him and the rest of ye wi’ us as well. Glad to see he’s found himself a wife and settled down proper,” Roger teased. “Puttin’ down roots.” The relief of being with family again was as heady and intoxicating as the whisky they’d shared the night before.

“Mama!” Roger heard Mandy shriek as the big house came into sight.

Brianna was in the yard with Claire and William, a basket over her arm already overflowing with greenery from Claire’s garden.

“Who’s that then?” Germain asked, dropping to the ground with a plop.

Jem dropped too, and landed right in front of Roger so that he jumped back before reaching out a hand laying it heavily on his son’s shoulder. Jem looked back at his father and gave him an apologetic smile.

“That… is a… visitor,” Roger answered awkwardly. He wasn’t sure how William would want to be introduced and hedged against his own inclination to call him the lads’ uncle. Germain frowned and looked to Jem who shrugged, still uncertain about how the young man was related to them himself.

Fanny recognized William immediately and was torn between running to him in her excitement and showing how she’d grown in his absence by demonstrating the proper decorum.

“Are ye sure ye dinna want to turn back?” Ian asked Rachel. “We’ve seen them safe back and Uncle Jamie and Auntie Claire willna mind.”

Rachel gave her husband an unamused look that Roger recognized well. He turned his attention to the children and his own wife, politely pretending to ignore the marital exchange happening beside him.

“If thee does not wish to see him then hurry thyself home,” Rachel retorted. “I believe that avoiding him will only prolong and call undo attention to any awkwardness there may be.”

Another sneeze from Brian punctuated his mother’s point and Rachel strode toward Claire, Brianna and William with greater purpose, quickly outpacing Roger and Ian. Roger watched William glance up from Fanny’s excited chattering and spot Rachel approaching. The color rose in the young man’s face as he bowed a greeting to Rachel then looked out to find Roger and Ian still making their approach at a leisurely pace. He nodded to the pair of them as well.

“I take it there’s history between ye?” Roger prompted.

“Aye, and a long one dependin’ on how far back ye wish to go,” Ian explained. “Strictly speaking, I was partly to blame for an embarrassing incident when he first visited ten years or more back.”

“Tha’s a ways alright,” Roger said with a snort. “Ye think he holds a grudge that long?”

“Well, it’s more to do wi’ the fact he fancied Rachel for a time… and likely still does. That I can tell her tales of his childhood humiliation doesna help.”

“What in heaven’s name did ye do to the lad?” Roger asked, glancing across at Ian who couldn’t conceal his amusement at the memory.

“All I’ll say is it ended wi’ him landin’ at the bottom of the privy and me down there soon after, though wi’ a wee bit more of my dignity intact,” Ian chuckled.

Roger snorted. “There’s nae dignity to be had if ye wind up covered in shite, no matter how it happened.”

“Mother Claire did a wonderful job,” William agreed with Fanny as she rattled off some nonsensical tongue twisters to demonstrate her newfound command of speech. “And you appear to like it here,” he added, a hint of question in his voice.

Fanny beamed. “I do. It can be as mad as the brothel and as loud, but I know Jane would have liked it here.” The girl’s smile faltered and her eyes shone as she looked away and took a deep breath.

“I’m glad,” William told her, reaching out and mussing her hair in a playful attempt to bring her back to lighter spirits. “Do you play with the other children or are you in charge of keeping them in order?”

“There’s none will keep Germain in order,” she muttered and Brianna snorted behind her.

“I’m afraid with Jem here it’ll only get worse,” Brianna apologized.

“Fanny, this is Mrs. Mackenzie,” William said by way of introduction. “She’s Mr. and Mrs. Fraser’s daughter.”

“I saw you last night,” Fanny noted. “You came down with Jamie and some others.”

“That’s right,” Brianna nodded.

Fanny turned to William. “Is she your sister? You call her mum ‘Mother Claire,’” Fanny pointed out.

Clearing his throat, William looked to Brianna and caught her smirking with satisfaction. It made him want to laugh as well as groan but the warmer of the two won out.

“Yes, she’s my sister… in a way. Not the same way that Jane was your sister,” William struggled to explain.

“Friend Claire,” Rachel called as she approached the house and garden with Mandy straggling beside her on tiny, tired legs.

Claire rose from a patch in the corner where she’d been weeding and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, smearing a bit of dirt over one eye like a second eyebrow.

“Rachel! I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” Claire exclaimed, wiping her hands on her apron and scooting around the edge of the fence. “I thought you’d be helping Dottie and Minnie to get settled.”

“My husband’s mother took it well in hand and I was eager to meet thy daughter as thee has told me so much about her,” Rachel explained and smiled at Brianna. “And I must apologize to thee for neglecting thee in my duties as hostess last night. Sister Dottie and the baby took more of my attention than I expected. But I’m glad to finally meet thee… and to see thee again, Friend William,” Rachel added, turning and smiling at him.

“You’re looking well… Mrs. Murray,” William greeted her awkwardly. “And it would appear congratulations are in order,” he nodded to the squirming bundle swaddled against her chest.

“I thank thee. It took us time to settle on a name for him. Brian James Hunter Murray,” Rachel cooed as she looked down at her contented and slumbering son.

“Named for our grandfather,” Brianna said quietly, coming up beside William, Mandy on her hip. “Same as me.”

“Issa bairn,” Mandy informed her new uncle. “He’s too wee for me to hold him yet.”

“It’s more that you’re too wee and not quite gentle enough to hold him yet,” Brianna corrected Mandy.

“He’s no too wee to hold him, is he?” Mandy asked, glancing to William. “Have ye ever held a bairn before?”

William wondered if the child was trying to see how dark a shade of red his face would go.

“As a matter of fact, I have,” he told her. “I brought my cousin and her baby daughter with me yesterday, do you remember?” Mandy nodded. “Well, she couldn’t carry Minnie the whole way by herself.” William thought back to the first terrifying moment Dottie had handed Minnie to him while she’d gone off to relieve herself behind a tree and the way she’d laughed finding he hadn’t moved a muscle in her absence. He had grown more comfortable with practice, however, though he remained paranoid that he would cause some sort of damage to the delicate and vulnerable baby. Every whimper and cry Minnie let out in his arms felt like an accusation.

But they’d been alone then, he and Dottie with the baby, either in unfamiliar towns and settlements or in the wilderness where he was their only source of protection. The weight of that responsibility had been heavier than he realized.

“Would thee like to hold Brian?” Rachel asked, surprising him. She was already pulling the baby free of his sling, his legs pulled up to his belly and his feet curling with what William saw as reluctance.

“Oh… That’s… I don’t…” William sputtered.

“Go on,” Brianna urged with a light bump from her elbow. “I don’t think Mandy’ll believe you till she sees it done.”

“He will be fine with thee,” Rachel insisted, gently settling the baby in William’s arms. “He’s not so breakable as he might seem and I have faith in thee.”

Brian peered up at William with a wariness that suggested he wasn’t as sure about William’s abilities as his mother. But he didn’t fuss or wriggle, just watched William and relaxed as the tension in William began to loosen as well. Brian was heavier than Minnie and longer, but then both Rachel and Ian were taller than Dottie and Brian might be a week or so older than his cousin.

“It would appear you are a natural,” Claire remarked with a smile and rested a reassuring hand on William’s shoulder.

“Mam, I wasna tha’ small too,” Mandy stated, peering down at Brian with skepticism.

“You absolutely were,” Brianna contradicted. “Smaller even. Jem too though he was less inclined to be agreeable at that size. Hungry all the time and hollerin’ for me to feed him.” She gave Rachel a look of commiseration.

“Jem does ‘at now,” Mandy said inspiring a chorus of laughs.

“Wha’s funny?” Jem panted as he and Germain reached the group.

“Nothing. Had enough of climbing trees?” Brianna asked with a tone that told her son what the correct answer to the question should be.

“Aye. Gran, is there anythin’ in here we’re allowed to eat?” Jem turned to Claire, eyeing the stems of some carrots that were in one of the baskets on the ground.

He didn’t seem to notice the renewed laughter as Claire ushered the children to the house with the promise of bread and honey, Brianna following with Mandy still on her hip.

“I can take him back if thee would like to go inside as well,” Rachel offered but William shook his head.

“We’re fine for now,” he assured her, watching the baby blink at him and yawn. “You probably already know this,” William mused quietly, not looking at Rachel who had stepped closer and was leaning over her son to watch him, “but he has your eyes.”

She smiled though he couldn’t see it. “That’s what Ian says. My eyes and his father’s disposition.”

“If tha’s the case ye’ll be in trouble before long,” Roger said, teasing Ian who walked beside him. “Or should I say, he’ll be in trouble before long?” He elbowed Ian lightly in the ribs.

“Tis a trait Friend Claire says men with Fraser blood share,” Rachel agreed with a laugh, smiling at William to show she was including him in her generalization.

“Perhaps tha’s so,” Ian conceded, striding over to William’s side and putting an arm around his shoulders in a familiar and jovial way. “It’s why we must find ourselves women as will follow us in our trouble gladly—or those wi’ a knack for helpin’ us find our way out of it once more. If we’re lucky.”

“It’s clear you have been,” William said with a sincerity that altered the mood. He offered Brian to his father who took him with a confidence born of practice.

“Ye will be too… cousin,” Ian replied, confident in the first sentiment and hesitant in the latter.

William didn’t rebuke him or walk away. Instead he smiled. “I can only hope to be half so lucky.” He glanced to Rachel who beamed at them.

Ian took hold of Brian under his arms and lifted him up to look him in his pouting face. “That would be lucky indeed, would it no?” he asked in a sing-song tone.

Brian sneezed in his face. William watched Rachel as they both laughed and realized he was genuinely happy for her and for Ian. 

[beatlejuice64]

Destiel Season 13: A catalog of Supernatural episodes

A catalog of each episode in Supernatural that features scenes related to Destiel. This includes scenes between Dean and Castiel, scenes with other characters that address their relationship with each other, and scenes that allude to Dean’s bisexuality. 

Season 13 Summary Analysis

Dean is destroyed by Castiel’s death at the hands of Lucifer, and he is hard on Jack at first because he believes Jack is partially to blame. Dean has lost hope and given up on life, and not even Sam is able to snap him out of it. When Cas returns, Dean’s attitude takes a 180 degree shift, and he becomes softer with Jack after learning that he’s the one who brought Cas back. Dean, Cas, and Sam become highly protective co-parents to Jack. Dean and Cas establish a much more domestic relationship and are better than ever at communicating and apologizing to each other. 

My interpretation: Dean has trouble adjusting to life without Cas, and he takes it out on Jack because he feels like Jack is the reason Cas pulled away from him in Season 12. When The Empty tries to intimidate Cas into going back to sleep, Cas fights back because he knows that Dean and Sam need him. He is no longer paralyzed by his past mistakes because Dean showed him unconditional love in Season 12. When Cas returns, Dean and Cas are ready to accept their true feelings and commit to each other for real—they have each finally worked past their periods of self-loathing and are ready to accept each other’s affection. Although we never see Dean and Cas explicitly state that they are in a romantic relationship, they repeatedly exhibit loving behavior toward one another and allude to time they have spent together off screen. Dean and Cas are both significantly happier, and even Sam is glad that they’ve finally set aside their self-hatred and baggage to finally be together.

13.01 Lost and Found

Dean cannot bring himself to say out loud that Cas is dead: “Let’s see, Crowley’s dead, Kelly’s dead, Cas is... Mom’s gone, and apparently, the Devil’s kid hit puberty in 30 seconds flat. Oh, and almost killed us.”

Dean prays to God to bring Cas back and punches a wooden sign out of frustration: “Okay, Chuck, or God or whatever, I... I need your help. See, you left us. You LEFT us. You went off, you said the Earth would be fine because it had me and it had Sam, but it’s NOT, and WE’RE not. We’ve lost everything, and now you’re gonna bring him back, k? You’re gonna bring back Cas, you’re gonna bring back Mom, you’re gonna bring ‘em all back. All of them. Even Crowley. ‘Cause after everything that you’ve done, you OWE us, you son of a bitch. So you get your ass down here, and you make this right, right here, and right now!”

Dean can barely look at Castiel’s dead body. He struggles with his emotions while wrapping Cas up with care and preparing the funeral pyre.

13.03 Patience

Dean explains that he associates Jack with the loss of Cas and can’t let it go: “I can hardly look at the kid. ‘Cause when I do, all I see is everybody we’ve lost.” “Mom chose to take that shot at Lucifer. That is not on Jack.” “And what about Cas?” “What ABOUT Cas?” “He manipulated him. He made him promises. Said ‘Paradise on Earth,’ and Cas bought it. And you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now, you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t!

13.04 The Big Empty

When Cas tries to convince The Empty to send him back to Earth, The Empty intimidates him with his fears and failings: “Sam and Dean need me.” “Oh, save it. I have tiptoed through all your little tulips. Your memories, your little feelings, yes. I know what you hate. I know who you love, what you fear. There is nothing for you back there, no.”

Dean admits to Sam that he’s broken: “I need you to keep the faith for both of us. ‘Cause right now I... Right now, I don’t believe in a damn thing.”

13.05 Advanced Thanatology

Sam makes an effort to be extra nice to Dean to try to help him get through his rough patch: “I’m fine.” “No, you’re not, Dean. You said you don’t believe in anything, and that’s not true, that’s not you. You DO believe in things. You believe in people. That’s who you are, that’s what you do. I know you’re in a dark place, and I just wanna help.” “Okay. Look, I’ve been down this road before, and I fought my way back. I will fight my way back again.” “How?” “Same way I always do—bullets, bacon, and booze. A lotta booze.”

Death (aka Billie) recognizes that Dean has lost his zeal for life: “You have changed, and you tell people it’s not a big deal. You tell people you’ll work through it, but you know you won’t, you can’t, and that scares the hell outta you. Or am I wrong?” “What do you want me to say? Doesn’t matter. I don’t matter.” “Don’t you?” “I couldn’t save Mom. I could save Cas. I can’t even save a scared little kid. Sam keeps tryin’ to fix it, but I just keep draggin’ him down. So I’m not gonna beg, okay? If it’s my time, it’s my time.” “You really believe that. You wanna die.”

Dean admits to Sam that he is not okay: “You know, my whole life, I always believed that what we do was important. No matter the cost, no matter who we lost, whether it was Dad, or Bobby, or... And I would take the hit, but I kept on fighting because I believed that we were makin’ the world a better place. And now Mom, and Cas, and I don’t know... I don’t know.” “So now you don’t believe anymore.” “I just need a win. I just need a damn win.”

As Dean learns that Cas is alive, the song “Never Too Late” by Steppenwolf plays, and the camera cuts between Cas and Dean (not Sam): “Your eyes are moist, you scream and shout, as though you were a man possessed. From deep inside comes rushing forth all the anguish you suppressed. Upon your wall hangs your degree, your parents craved so much for you. And though you’re trained to make your mark, you still don’t quite know what to do. It’s never too late to start all over again. To love the people you caused the pain, and help them learn your name. ... You say you've only got one life to live, and when you're dead you're gone. Your family comes to your grave, and with tears in their eyes, they tell you you did something wrong. ‘You left us alone!’ Tell me who's to say after all is done and you're finally gone, you won't be back again. You can find a way to change today, you don't have to wait 'til then. It's never too late to start all over again.”

13.06 Tombstone

Dean gives Cas a big hug when he sees him: “Welcome home, pal.” “How long was I gone?” “Too damn long.”

Dean, who was borderline suicidal in the previous episode, does a complete 180 mood shift and gets excited to go on a hunt in Dodge City: “Alright, well, two salty hunters, one half-angel kid, and dude who just came back from the dead, again. Team Free Will 2.0. Here we go!”

When the gang enters the Wild Bill Suite, Dean nerds out about the historical figures hanging on the walls, and Cas is knowingly resigned to it: “He really likes cowboys.” “Yes. Yes, he does.”

Sam recognizes how happy Dean is: “You’re in a good mood, huh?” “Yeah, and?” “Nothin’. I just, uh... you’ve been havin’ a rough go, so it’s good to see you smile.” “Well, I said I needed a big win. We got Cas back. That’s a pretty damn big win.” “Yeah, fair enough.”

When Jack goes to wake up Dean, Cas tries to stop him, knowing how badly Dean will react to being woken up. Cas later comments on Dean’s sleeping habits: “I told you. He’s an angry sleeper. Like a bear.”

When Cas gets up to leave, Dean lifts his finger and points at his coffee. Cas understands the gesture to mean he should wait until Dean has finished his coffee and sits back down.

Cas reluctantly goes along with Dean’s insistence that he should act like a cowboy, and they reference a movie night that they’ve had at some point in the past: “Alright, listen, these Dodge City cops aren’t likely to trust big city folks, so we’re gonna have to blend.” “Which is why you’re making me wear this absurd hat.” “It’s not that bad. Well, actually, yeah, it kinda is. Hang on. [Dean removes the band from Castiel’s cowboy hat.] Alright, that’s better.” “Is it?” “Yeah. Look, just act like you’re from Tombstone, k?” “The city?” “The movie! With Kurt Russel? I made you watch it.” “Yeah, yeah. Yeah. The one with the guns and tuberculosis. ‘I’m your Huckleberry.’” “Yeah, exactly. It’s good to have you back, Cas. Alright, follow my lead. We’ll fit right in.”

When Jack shows remorse for accidentally killing someone, Dean tries to make him feel better, demonstrating that his view of Jack has shifted: “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m just another monster.” “No, you’re not. I thought you were. I did, but, like Sam said, we’ve all done bad. We all have blood on our hands. So if you’re a monster, we’re all monsters.”

13.07 War of the Worlds

Cas says he’s going to ask the angels for help finding Jack, and Dean insists on going with him. Dean reluctantly agrees to let Cas go alone and tells him not to get in into any trouble: “Dean, you can’t accompany me. My contact is already anxious about meeting and won’t speak in the presence of a stranger.” “So introduce me. Then I’m not a stranger. I’ll bring a six pack.” “Dean, I swore I would protect this boy. Let me do this.” “Don’t do anything stupid.”

When Lucifer catches Cas talking to Dean on the phone, Cas tries to play off the conversation as casual by speaking lovingly toward Dean: “Yes, I would like to see you, too. The sooner, the better.”

Sam recognizes that Dean is worried about Cas: “Don’t worry. You did tell him not to do anything stupid.” “Right. When’s the last time that’s worked?”

13.08 The Scorpion and the Frog

Sam recognizes that Dean believes in himself and his purpose again: “We’ll figure somethin’ else out. And if that doesn’t work, then we’ll move on to the next, and then whatever’s after that. We just keep working, ‘cause that’s what we do.” “It feels really good to hear you talk like that again.” “I’ll drink to that.”

13.11 Various & Sundry Villains

When Dean shows up saying he’s in love and “full on twitter-pated”, Sam is amused and surprised that Dean would express emotion like that so openly, until he realizes Dean is under a spell.

13.13 Devil’s Bargain

When Dean scolds Cas for talking with Lucifer, Cas defends himself: “Cas, I specifically told you not to do anything stupid.” “Well, he was weak, and given the context of our imminent annihilation, it didn’t seem stupid.“

Dean apologizes to Cas for not realizing that Asmodeus was posing as him while he was captured, and Cas forgives him immediately: “Cas, I’m sorry. All that time you were with Asmodeus, I... We should’ve known it wasn’t you.” “Well he’s a shape-shifter. Besides, I was the one who got myself captured.” “Yeah, but if Sam and I knew, you know, we would’ve...” “Yeah, I know, I know. You would’ve tried another long shot. I’m fine, Dean.”

Dean expresses concern for Castiel’s well-being, and Cas expresses concern for the safety of their shared family: “I’m fine, Dean.” “You sure about that?” “Right now, all that matters is getting Jack and your mother out of that place, okay? Look, I promised Kelly that I would protect her son. I intend to keep that promise.”

Cas understands Dean’s colloquialism: “We’re boned.” “Epically.”

When the boys encounter Ketch, Cas looks over at Dean and instinctively knows that Dean wants him to put Ketch to sleep.

Cas loathes Ketch on Dean’s behalf, agreeing with Dean’s plan to kill him: “I say we take dick bag here back to the bunker, find out what he knows and put a bullet in him, burn his bones, and flush the ashes.” “I like that plan.”

While the boys are talking about whether they can trust Ketch, Cas rolls his eyes at Dean’s predictable penchant for violence.

13.14 Good Intentions

Dean volunteers to accompany Cas to go fight Gog and Magog.

Dean shows concern for Castiel’s emotional well-being and considers his wants and needs. Cas is open about his worries for the future, and Dean shows him support: “How’re you holdin’ up, Cas?” “I’m fine.” “No, I just mean with, you know, everything you’ve been through, and I know you really wanna find Lucifer.” “No, it’s not that. It’s about... Well, it is that, but it’s also, I... Dean, I was dead.” “Temporarily.” “And I have to believe that I was brought back for a reason.” “You were, k? Jack brought you back because we needed you back.” “Right. And how have I repaid him? I promised his mother that I would protect him, but now he’s trapped in that place while Lucifer is here, who’s... he’s getting stronger and more powerful by the day. And if Michael really is coming, maybe I was brought back to help prepare.” “Prepare for what?” “War. War, is what Michael does.” “Well, then we do what we do, whatever it takes.”

Dean rolls his eyes at Castiel’s predictable seriousness: “Well, Enochian’s kinda tough. Maybe you got a word wrong.” “I don’t get words wrong.” *eyeroll*

After Donatello tries to hurt Dean by casting a spell on him, Cas gets angry and disregards Donatello’s safety, forcefully extracting the information they need from his mind: “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let you or anyone hurt the people I love, not again.”

Dean is angry at Cas for making Donatello braindead, but Cas convinces him it was necessary due to their dire circumstances.

13.16 ScoobyNatural

Dean is antagonistic toward Fred for most of the episode, but it seems to be based in jealously, and perhaps a certain level of attraction: “Hey, why do you hate Fred so much?” “He thinks he’s so cool, with his perfect hair, his can-do attitude, that stupid ascot.”

Dean starts out pursuing Daphne, but her disinterest toward him and commitment to Fred help Dean see Fred’s value. Dean develops more respect for Fred as the episode progresses, and he even seems to develop a particular fondness for Fred himself, emulating his style by wearing an ascot.

When Cas asks Dean what happened with the Cartwright twins, he evades the question.

13.18 Bring ‘Em Back Alive

Cas is upset that Sam let Dean go to Apocalypse World on his own: “Dean is in Apocalypse World alone?” “No, he’s with Ketch, so he’s not alone.” “Because that makes it so much better.” “Cas, he wanted to go solo.” “And you let him?” “I... He didn’t give me much of a choice. Anyways, Dean’s right. As long as he’s over there and we’re here, we need to be taking care of Gabriel, getting him right again.”

Dean makes a joke to Ketch about his own sexuality: “You don’t look good.” “Yeah, well, you’re not my type, either.”

When Dean gets upset about losing Gabriel, Cas tries to calm him down and make him feel better: “Dean, we will find Gabriel. We will.” “We better.”

13.19 Funeralla

When Rowena flirts with Cas, Dean is visibly annoyed and Cas is awkward about it.

Dean asks Cas if he wants a beer. Cas says no, but Dean gets one for him anyway.

Cas makes a sports reference and Dean is impressed. Then Cas makes it awkward and Dean resists the urge to tell a dirty joke: “This would be something of a Hail Mary.” “Hmm!” “It’s a sports term, like slam dunk or, uh... ball handler.” “That’s uh... mnh-mnh.”

Dean and Cas talk through a disagreement without being accusatory or disrespectful: “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Well, Dean, we don’t have any good ideas.” “Okay, let’s just not barrel through with that like, uh, you know, like the Donatello thing.” “We had our disagreement, but we got results.” “That didn’t make it okay.” “I hear your concerns. And yes, the angels, they loathe me, and there’s going to be dangers, but heaven doesn’t want the world to end any more than we do. This is something that I have to try.”

Dean reluctantly supports Castiel’s idea after realizing how important it is to him: “Cas, you wanna try this angel thing, then go for it. Just don’t get dead again.”

13.21 Beat the Devil

When the gang goes through the portal, Gabriel stumbles and ends up with his face in Castiel’s crotch, which makes Dean visibly uncomfortable.

When Sam is mortally wounded and taken by vampires, Cas protectively stops Dean from going after him.

13.23 Let the Good Times Roll

Cas tries to stop Dean from letting Michael possess him: “Dean, you can’t.” “Lucifer has Sam. He has Jack. Cas, I don’t have a choice!”

Cas is visibly grief-stricken at losing Dean to Michael.

[queen-scribbles]

Practice Makes Perfect

@pillarspromptsweekly fill 16, Roll For It! #4. I got Edér, gift, and memory, and it turned into 2k of Edérity fluff somehow. I dunno. I’m in too deep. Send help. (Also, Peycg is said PAYDJ, according to the wiki) edit:whoops, forgot to fix the title.

All too often, when the weather turned cold enough to prevent gardening, Charity found herself at loose ends. This year, her first settled into the Dyrwood, promised to be little different. She had friends, she had Edér (and the pretense of courtship they maintained). But still she found herself with more empty hours than full ones, especially once snow started to fall. That was probably why she decided to take up knitting.

It wasn’t something she consciously planned to do. She happened to mention(it might have been a bit complaining) that the days had more hours than she knew what to do with now while enjoying a drink at the Dracogen Inn. Peycg, the innkeeper’s wife, suggested knitting as a hobby both relaxing and practical.

“‘Course, that’s once you get the hang of it,” she cautioned when Charity’s eyes lit with excitement. “It ain’t that difficult, but some people do struggle.”

Charity laughed, twirling the end of her ponytail. “I’m very patient, and very stubborn.” She paused a moment and grimaced in self-deprecation. “And very bored.”

Peycg smiled as she nodded at the redhead’s fingers restlessly tapping against the counter. “I can tell. If you’re  interested, come by t’morrow, an hour past midday. I’ll be done most of my work by then, and I’ve a spare set of needles and some yarn you can use. I’ll teach ya the basics.”

“Oh, I have yarn,” Charity said. “Ufdaen traded me some for the last of my tomatoes just before the ground froze over.”

“Ah, well, that’s lucky.” Peycg smiled even wider as her gaze drifted over Charity’s shoulder at the opening and shutting of the inn’s door. “Evenin’, Mayor.”

The sly look the older woman tossed her made Charity’s cheeks burn, and she fought the urge to hunch down and make herself less visible. Even aside from the courtship facade, Edér was her friend and there wasn’t really a logical reason for that reaction.

Then again, matters of the heart were rarely logical. Charity bit her lip and picked at the handle of her tankard until she felt Edér behind her. She half-turned and smiled fondly as she reached up to dust snow out of his hair. “You’re doing it again.”

“Not on purpose,” Edér protested cheerfully, leaning against the counter and signalling Dengler for a drink. This was a frequent topic of good-natured reprimand; he was so tall and broad-shouldered, Charity often complained he loomed without even trying.

“On purpose or not, you’re still doin’ it,” she teased. She brushed against his cheek on the way down. “You’re also freezing.” She cupped her hand against his skin, ignoring both Peycg’s grin and the bite of cold against her fingers.

“I’ll be fine,” Edér waved off her concern as he sat down. “I grew up with this weather, Charity. I’m used to it.” He tugged off one glove and rested his hand on her arm, the heat of it quickly soaking through to her skin. “‘Sides, the rest of me is plenty warm.”

“I can see that, crazy man,” Charity said, voice rife with amusement. “So, are you done your mayoral duties for the day and here to celebrate?”

Edér made a face. “Nah, I wish. Still got a lot of paperwork to wade through. Just thought I’d give my eyes a break for a bit, bolster m’self with ale and good company ‘fore I dive back into the fray.”

“You make it sound like a battle,” she teased, leaning closer than strictly necessary and very aware of the knowing glances Peycg kept throwing their way, even though she’d moved down the counter.

“Might as well be,” he snorted, nodding thanks to Dengler when the innkeeper plunked down a full tankard. “‘Cept this one I can’t win with a sword.” He took a deep drink. “Makes it a good bit tougher. I’d prefer a straight up fight.”

“You’re not alone in that,” Charity said wryly. She drained the last of her drink and contemplated ordering another, but the light was already starting to dim outside. Cursed short winter days... If she didn’t want part of her walk home to be in the dark, she needed to get moving. “But you are about to be alone in here. Well, ‘cept for Dengler and Peycg.”

Edér’s brow crinkled into a disappointed frown. “You’re leavin’? Already?”

“Edér, I’ve already been here for at least an hour-” she glanced at Peycg and got a confirming nod- “an’ it’s a long enough haul back to my place, if I don’t skedaddle now I’ll be makin’ part of it by moonlight.”

“Here, I’ll go with ya,” he offered, pushing away from the counter and starting to button his coat.

“You just got here,” she protested, tugging on her ponytail. “You’re still thawin’ out, I can’t ask you to go back into that.” She gestured vaguely at the door.

“Charity.” He kissed her forehead and her entire face went hot enough to forge Durgan steel. “Darlin’. What kinda gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk the lady I’m courtin’ home?”

“That kind that acknowledges his lady can take care of herself?” Charity tried, praying furiously the blushing would stop. That was less likely than Hylea and Magran mending fences. Whenever Edér broke out the endearments, it was ridiculously hard to remember this was a fucking act.

“I do know you can take care of yourself,” Edér promised as he helped her with her coat. “I also know your company’ll be a better break than anyone else’s.” He winked at Dengler. “No offense.”

“None taken,” the innkeeper laughed, he and his wife both watching them.

Sensing his determination, Charity saved her breath, instead waving goodbye to Peycg as she linked her arm through Edér’s. “You know they’ll gonna talk,” she commented, wrapping her scarf an extra loop around her neck against the evening’s chill. “’Bout us.”

“Ain’t that the point?” Edér drawled, shoulders hunching as they exited the inn. “We want ‘em talkin’ about our ‘courtship’ rather’n wonderin’ about the... other thing.”

“Shh!” she hissed, squeezing his arm. There weren’t many people out, thanks to both the hour and the cold, but still, better safe than sorry. “So... what’re you doin’ tomorrow?”

He grinned, catching the hint they should stick to small talk. “Mayor stuff. You?”

“Peycg’s gonna teach me to knit.” Charity shivered and tucked herself closer against him. Maybe part of why he never got cold is he seemed to radiate heat. It reminded her of winters as a child, when she’d huddle close to her father on walks in order to stay warm. “I’m bored without my garden or crops, an’ much as I enjoy spendin’ time with you or my friends, you have your own lives, so I can’t monopolize your time.” Much as I might want to in some cases....

“I dunno,” Edér grinned, pulling his arm free of her grasp to wrap around her shoulders instead, holding her close. “If you came by while I’m workin’, I’m sure I could find somethin’ for you to do.” He laughed, breath clouding the air in front of them. “Prob’ly still really borin’, though.”

Charity scrunched up her nose. “Tempting. But I think I’ll stick with knitting.”

“Smart woman. Stuff I’m dealin’s with’s liable to make me grumpy, anyway.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You? Grumpy? I didn’t think such a thing was possible.”

“It does happen from time to time,” he deadpanned. “Usually involves Tavi’s idea of a prank...”

Charity giggled. “Alright, that I can see.”

It was Edér’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Does that say more about Tavi, or about me?”

She paused, measuring her words. “I think it says more about your friendship than either of you individually.”

He grinned and rubbed her arm. “Like I said, smart woman.”

Charity hummed her gratitude at the compliment and they lapsed into comfortable silence the rest of the way to her house.

~~~~~

It took a large portion of her willpower not to head for the Dracogen as soon as the sun was fully above the horizon. The promise of another escape from boredom was a tantalizing thought, but Charity made herself wait until the arranged time to grab her coat and go meet Peycg. It was warmer today, and she didn’t bother to button it for the walk to the inn.

Peycg was waiting with a smile and a pair of good-sized wooden needles, which she slid across the table to Charity as she sat down. “Hopefully they’re the right size. Let me see your yarn.”

Charity complied, twisting around to pull the light blue ball of yarn from one of her coat pockets. It was only slightly smooshed when she sat it on the table. Peycg reached over and took it in hand, calloused fingers stroking its surface, before nodding appreciatively.

“It’s good yarn,” she said. “Ufdaen’s really honed his trade.”

“That’s what happens if you don’t want to go out of business,” Charity replied with a small laugh.

Peycg chuckled. “True enough. But we’re here to help you hone a skill, not discuss to what extent one of our neighbors has done the same. What you have’ll work well with those needles, which is lucky. I won’t have to go upstairs an’ getcha ‘nother set.” She winked. “But before we get to the actual knittin’, I wanna explain some of the terms to you.”

Charity nodded as the older woman pulled out a knitted square of cheerful purple, her own needles still run through the top. “makes sense to be sure I’ll know what you’re talking about. Let me have it.”

~~~~~~~

It took a good ten minutes just for Charity to get a good grasp on the knitting terms. Learning how to do the actual stitches wasn’t terribly hard once she watched Peycg demonstrate a few.

“Now, the important question,” Peycg began, nodding with approval as she watched Charity slowly knit a few stitches, “Is are you planning to make something specific, or just gettin’ a feel for how it’s done?”

Charity thought for a moment, careful not to lose her grip on the needles. “Can’t I make somethin’ simple that’ll let me do both?”

“Sure,” Peycg nodded. “But if you’re aimin’ to do a particular project, you’ll need to pay attention to how many stitches you have in a row. If you’re just havin’ fun and learnin’ the ropes, it’s less important. Didja have somethin’ in mind you wanted to make?”

Charity smiled to herself, eyed the ball of cornflower-blue yarn. “A scarf.”

Peycg laughed and sent her a knowing look. “Good project for a beginner. I’m assumin’ you’ll want to make it nice an’ wide?”

Charity shrugged innocently. “All the better for keepin’ warm, right?”

“Of course.” Peycg winked, even more knowingly. “I’ll figure out your stitch count per row, and it looks like you have enough yarn there.” She waited until Charity was between stitches and lightly bumped her shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll turn out grand.”

Charity nodded, set down the knitting for a moment to twist her hair into a bun, and then resumed. “I sure hope so.”

~~~~~~~

If she dropped one more stitch, she was going to throw the whole cursed thing in the fire. Charity huffed in exasperation, then made herself take a deep breath and count to ten before she fixed the dropped stitch, finished her row, and decided it was time for a break. She had a headache. And a knot between her shoulder blades. Besides, despite her difficulties with grasping the skill itself, the scarf was almost done. It would be a shame to waste a couple weeks’ worth of hard work. Not to mention the needles  and yarn. And she was meeting Peycg tomorrow to learn how to  finish it off.

Literally a day from being done, she thought to herself as she tucked five feet of slightly uneven blue knitting in its place. Not wasting that.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Charity? You home?”

She smiled to herself, almost instinctively tugging the end of her ponytail. Just as well she was taking a break. “You can come in, Edér.” She heard the door open and close, the shuffle of him removing his coat. “Thought you said somethin’ about today being full up.”

“Two of the people I was supposed to meet with canceled,” Edér explained, underscored by footsteps. “You alright?”

Charity hastily dropped the hand that had been rubbing between her shoulder blades. “Yeah, fine. Just sat too long in one position’s all.”

He gave her a skeptical look. “Y’know, my mom used to say the same thing. Usually when she was tryin’ to downplay achy spots. C’mere.”

She didn’t really resist when he stepped close enough to pull her into a hug, and didn’t flinch away when one of his big, warm hands passed right over the worst of the tension in her back. She couldn’t, however, suppress a slight hiss.

“Thought so,” Edér nodded, and tugged her arm to pull her toward one of the low backed chairs in her living room. “Sit.”

“What’re you- ooooooh, Effigy’s eyes don’t stop.” Charity let herself slouch, leaning more against his hands as his thumbs rubbed over the knot between her shoulders. “Now I know why my father always looked boneless when Ma did this for hiiim.”

Edér laughed, sounded pleased with himself, as he paused for a second to tweak her ponytail. “Glad I’m not too outta practice.” He shifted position and dragged the heel of his hand down the center of the knot.

OhsweetEothas Charity bit her lip and sucked in a breath to avoid letting out a sound she’d previously only made, well, during acts of a far more intimate nature. Which was the last direction she needed her brain going right now.  “Nope, not out of practice. So, um... when’d you learn to do this?”

“My mom used to get the same knot in the same place when she’d been knittin’ too long.” The last of the tension loosened and he gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze before moving to sit in another chair. “That is what that was from, right? Knitting?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, rolling her shoulders. She wanted to kiss him for how loose they felt, but with no audience, they were just friends having a chat.  “Thanks. So did you learn how t’do that so you could help your ma?”

“Yep.” Edér grinned and cracked his knuckles. “But she and Dad moved away long time ago...”

“Hence the worry of being rusty,” Charity finished. She smiled broadly. “Trust me, you’re not.”

“Good to know.” He winked at her.

“So what brought you by in the first place?” Charity asked, playing with her ponytail in an effort to seem casual. “We didn’t have plans I forgot about, did we?”

“No, no,” Edér laughed reassuringly. “Just figured it’s been a couple days since we spent time together so I should come by.”

“So people don’t think you’re neglectin’ your lady?” she teased.

“And just ‘cause I missed seein’ you.” He shrugged. “Y’know, as a friend.”

“Sure,” Charity replied. “And I missed seeing you, too. So, whaddya want to talk about?”

He chuckled. “How was your day?”

“Boring and frustrating by turns. I’ve mostly got the hang of knitting, but every so often I’ll get goin’ too fast an’ drop a stitch, or make a row one stitch too long or short... The dropped stitches are the worst, ‘cause most of ‘em I don’t notice ‘til a row or two later, and while Peycg did teach me some tricks to fix stuff like that,  I’m not nearly as good at them as general knitting.” She smiled sheepishly.  “Sorry. Haven’t wandered into town for awhile. Had a lot built up to vent.”

“‘S what I’m here for,” Edér said, amusement in his tone. “Both as your friend and as your fake suitor.”

Charity flashed him a grateful smile. “How ‘bout you, how was your day?”

“Not as bad as it coulda been,” he replied, fiddling with the Eothasian pendant hanging around his neck. “Few people less than happy with decisions I made about property borders, but there were those couple who canceled, which means not nearly as much paperwork.”

She laughed. “Take what you can get, right?”

“Exactly.”

~~~~~~~

Peycg was busy enough the next day, Charity didn’t get her knitting lesson until almost suppertime.

“Sorry, dear,” Peycg apologized as they sat at a table facing the door. “We weren’t expectin’ that caravan that showed up for lunch.”

“No, it’s fine,” Charity assured her. “The inn comes first, I understand completely.”

“Thanks for that,” Peycg nodded. “Now, you just need to finish this off, right?”

“Mm-hm.” Charity pooled the finished scarf on the table. “I added to it some more last night. It’s almost as long as me now.”

“Perfect. That’s a good length for a scarf.” Peycg lifted an inch or two of the knitting by the wooden needle and placed it in her hands. “Now, the closing row and knot is called casting off.”

“Makes sense,” Charity said with a laugh. “Cast on to start, cast off to finish...” She giggled. “Was knitting invented by a fisherman’s wife?”

Peycg laughed, taking up her own knitting to use as an example. “Maybe it was invented by the fisherman. Needed somethin’ to keep his hands busy waitin’ for a bite. But here’s what you need to do...” The process as she explained--and demonstrated--it sounded simple enough; knit two stitches onto her right needle, pull the first over the second, repeat across the row.

Putting it into practice was a smidge more difficult. It seemed like every other second stitch slipped off when it wasn’t supposed to, and usually took several tries to fix. By the time she approached the end of the row, Charity was biting her lip hard. Almost done. Almost. Done. Peycg said the first time is the hardest, so it’ll be better after this. Finally she reached the last stitch. “Okay, now what?” She did exactly what Peycg said, and still the knot nearly got away. “Hylea’s wings, it’s like this hobby wants to drive me away!”

“You’re doing fine, dear,” Peycg chuckled. “I had to redo my first casting off three times to get it right. What happened to you bein’ very patient and very stubborn?”

Charity rolled her eyes in self-deprecation. “Apparently they don’t extend to knitting. Or at least the patience doesn’t. But it’ll be better now that I’ve finished something.”

“That’s how it worked for me, too,” Peycg said with a smile. “It can be disheartening until you prove to yourself that you can do it. Once you have that,” she snapped her fingers. “Easy as a pie.”

“That’s a relief,” Charity sighed, spreading the scarf’s length across the table. Even if it was an over-simplification, it was a relief. Especially considering the final product was far from perfect. Slightly lumpy, with spots arcing like bubbles in the wool, some small sections narrower or wider than the whole, and very clearly a beginner’s attempt. “‘Cause I have to do better than this in the future.”

“You will,” Peycg assured her. “Just takes practice.”

“An’ I think it looks fine,” another, familiar voice chimed in. Edér strode across the room and ran an appraising eye over the scarf.

“Y’know, I’m beginning to think you have some kind of sixth sense for when I’m in here,” Charity teased, smiling up at him as she absently picked at a hangnail. “An’ I’m glad you like it, ‘cause it was supposed to be for you, crazy man who doesn’t know how to dress for the weather. But now I’m reconsidering giving this monstrosity to anyone, let alone someone I... care about.”

He grinned. “First of all, darlin’, I was actually here first this time.” He pointed to a back corner. “Sittin’ right over there havin’ a bite to eat. You didn’t see me, and I didn’t wanna distract you. Second-” he whisked the scarf off the table before Charity had time to react and draped it around his neck- “it would be my pleasure to wear somethin’ made by someone who cares about me.”

Charity rolled her eyes and grabbed the tails of the scarf to pull him down eye-level with her. “You really are a crazy man.”

Edér laughed at her matter-of-fact tone and kissed the end of her nose. “Yep. Makes life interestin’.” He straightened and tugged the scarf free to wrap around his neck a couple times. “I gotta get back t’ work. See ya later?”

“Sure. Later,” Charity nodded, grin plastered across her face as she watched him leave.

She was definitely keeping this hobby.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Since this is a few months into the fake dating, I’m definitely planning to go back at some point and write the earlier stages, where they were much more awkward about it and finding boundaries and all that good stuff.

[aqua-harry]

50 Things I’m Convinced Harry Styles Does as a New Dad: A List

Missed the first few lists? → Find them here, here, and here!

1. Makes sure to count all ten fingers and all ten toes on your baby, first thing.

2. Says, “Always say new babies look li’ potatoes, but our lil’ one looks like a dream.”

3. Calls Anne to tell her the news at 4am, greeting her with, “Hi, Grandmum! Gonna come meet your new grandbaby?!” and although he tries to hide it, he can’t help tearing up when she begins to cry with delight.

4. Slightly gasps when he realizes his child inherited his dimples, holding the baby close up to his face so you can get a side-by-side comparison.

5. Doesn’t sleep in the hospital when the baby is in the room, wanting to keep an eye on the bassinet at all times.

6. Isn’t be able to stop taking pictures of your new bundle of joy, sending every one of them to you so you can save them in your phone, too.

7. Whispers, “Hiya, love. I’m your dad. Been dyin’ t’ meet ye’,” when your baby looks up at him with full, open eyes for the first time.

8. Looks up at you in delight when your baby makes small cooing sounds for the first time, making sure you heard them, too.

9. Has you scooch over in the hospital bed so he can lie next to you with the baby on your chest, feeling a bit left out when he sees the two of you cuddling without him.

10. Hesitantly requests to he burps the baby after your first feeding, giving a proud grin every time your child hiccups in response to his gentle patting.

11. Glances from you to the baby for at least an hour, trying to decide who he loves more. “Hate to say it, but I think I love the little one a bit more,” he’d tell you, and you wouldn’t even be mad.

12. Has a hard time letting you hold the baby, wanting to keep the bundle to himself. “Had ‘em for a whole nine months - t’s my turn now!”

13. Is embarrassed when he begins to cry after signing the birth certificate, promising the notary he doesn’t normally act this way.

14. Says, “Oh, dear. That’s the wrong name! Meant to name the thing Styles Styles like New York, New York or summat!” once he’s signed the certificate, trying to take the attention off of his tears.

15. Asks the baby nurse to demonstrate how to properly put on a nappy, even though he’s done it millions of times on other babies. He watches her intently, biting his lip and nodding whenever she explains something further.

16. Talks to the baby in hushed tones while you try to rest. “Mumma’s tired, gotta let her sleep. We could rest too, y’know. Just a little nap?”

17. Responds to congratulatory text messages from family and friends with, “…what baby?”

18. Continues to call your baby the nicknames he’d been using for the past nine months. “Everything’s all right, Sprout.” and “Don’t ye’ worry, Bug. Daddy’s got ye’.”

19. Sings cheerfully while he dresses your baby in the outfit he bought to go home in, replacing every “Olivia” with your baby’s name in the song of the same title.

20. Asks if you’ll let him be the one to put the baby in the car seat outside of the hospital, taking extra care when he buckles your child in, glancing up at you while you watch, smiling nervously.

21. Drives home from the hospital so cautiously, you wonder if you’ll ever get back to your house as you sit next to the car seat in the back, catching his eye in the rearview mirror every now and then.

22. Gives the baby a tour of your house, stopping at your bed and saying, “And this is where we made ye’, righ’ ‘ere in this bed. Don’t tell Mum I tol’ ye’, though.”

23. Gets you everything you need, not wanting you to move from the couch and risk hurting yourself. You can tell he’s trying to be quiet and not wake the baby when he fetches you a glass of water from the kitchen, insisting that you need to stay hydrated.

24. Falls asleep while resting his head on your shoulder, the two of you watching your creation sleep soundly in the bassinet that’s attached to your bed.

25. Holds his baby on the underside of his forearm, gently cradling the baby’s head in his palm, bending down to rub his nose against the newborn’s, his eyelashes fluttering against the soft cheeks of your child.

26. Rolls his eyes at you when you get teary-eyed over the stereotypical dad-and-baby moment you walked in on. You insist it’s the hormones that have caused you to cry over your baby asleep on his chest while he naps on the couch, but you’ve waited your whole life to see such a thing, and you can’t help but cry now that you’ve got it.

27. Rocks his newborn gently in the middle of the night, letting you catch up on sleep in the next room. “Shh, shh,” he’d say as he paces around the room. “Did I ever tell ye’ about the time I ran m’bike into a fence?”

28. Makes this face when he sees your baby’s dirtiest nappy to date.

29. Asks if two weeks old is too young for your child to have a pair of Gucci boots.

30. He’d call to you in an urgent tone - one that frightens you while you’re in the kitchen and he’s in the living room with the baby - telling you to hurry up. When you reach him, somewhat out of breath from panic, he’s grinning down at your child, who had apparently just laughed for the first time. “Laughed at me! Laughed at Dad! Imagine that!”

31. Tells Anne that she can no longer tell him what to do, as he’s somebody’s father now.

32. Tweets two weeks after the baby is born, “Overwhelmed. Overjoyed. Mum and baby are well. Thank you for the kind words. All the love. xx”

33. Insists on using the baby wrap every time you go out, wanting the baby as close to him as possible as you’re walking down the street.

34. Has the baby suck on his finger while you’re in the shower, smiling softly as he keeps your child occupied until you’re ready to take over.

35. Can’t help but smile anytime a pap or fan congratulates him on the baby, graciously thanking them and bowing his head with a bashful grin.

36. Takes the morning shift so you can take your time waking up, changing the baby’s diaper and booping his newborn on the nose while he asks his child how they slept, his voice scratchy and deep with the bit of sleep he’d managed to get.

37. Watches the sleeping baby in the early evening whispering, “Can’t believe you’re half o’me,” as he looks on.

38. Says, “You’re nakie!” in a sing-song voice whenever he changes the baby’s clothes.

39. Rests your child in his lap while he’s sitting on the couch next to you, unable to quit laughing while he tickles the baby’s soft tummy, eliciting screeches and giggles from the little one. He beams up at you while you film the interaction on your phone, and you can’t help but grin along with him.

40. Gets the first initial of his baby’s name tattooed on his wrist, right where you can find his pulse. When you ask why he chose the placement, he says, “Wear my heart on m’sleeve, yeah?”

41. Pretends to eat your baby’s hands and feet to make both of you - your child and you - laugh.

42. Always includes the baby in your conversations “Where shall we go for lunch, Bean?” he’ll ask, waiting for an answer. “Mmm, yes. Sounds delicious.”

43. Folds the clean baby clothes from the laundry basket so delicately, you have to remind him they’re not glass. “Jus’ so big in m’ hands. Weird our baby’s this small…”

44. Reads books aloud to the two of you before bed, sitting on the footrest of the rocking chair in the nursery while you feed, insisting that Goodnight Moon is your baby’s all-time favorite work.

45. Places the baby on your stomach and laughs softly at the image, his fingers on his chin as he examines the two of you. When you ask what he’s doing, he responds with, “There’s no way the babe would fit in there now!”

46. Blows raspberries on the baby’s tummy while you’re preparing the water for bath time, giggling every time the baby squeals in response.

47. Asks, “When’re ye’ gonna grow hair, hmm?” as he shields the baby’s eyes from the soap as you wash the downy hair on your child’s head. “Makin’ Dad look bad, havin’ a baby without lucious locks!”

48. Buys the baby sunglasses to match his, insisting that they’re for health purposes, and you can’t help but agree with the reasoning. Until, that is, you find him taking pictures of your child wearing the sunnies whilst inside.

49. Posts a picture of just the baby’s feet exactly a month after they’re born - the first picture of even a glimpse of your child shared online - with the caption “Truly the angels’ best.”

50. Looks at you when you’re tired, your hair’s a mess, you’ve got spit-up down your shirt, and you haven’t put makeup on in over a week and says, “You’re the best mum ever. Thank you for agreein’ to have a baby with me. Wouldn’t want anyone else in the world.”