second time she's called me


I’m in softlines at target and I’m consistently the operator. there’s a lady that always calls because of our bag policy then ends up talking about everything that bugs her, the second time she called she kept me on the phone for 20 Minutes talking about; doctors , green tea ice cream, the temperature of our store, how no one can do their job, and how all of the youth in America are too stupid/always on their smart phones to listen to anyone. I finally transferred her the the guest service lead, I later find out she kept him on the phone for over an hour . She’s the notorious ten cent lady , because she always call about not getting her ten cents off for bringing in 2 of her own bags. Needless to say I have many more target stories.

hey, so i just saw someone post about the national suicide lifeline being a great resource and i want to reiterate that. during the lowest point in my life when i didn’t know what NOT feeling suicidal was like, i called them more than once and was always met with someone who handled my situation calmly and professionally.

i think what made me feel so comfortable talking to them was the fact that they’re all volunteers who WANT to do what they do. they talk to you like you’re a real person and not just a problem they need to solve. when i told one guy about my eating disorder he looked up resources and treatment centers in my area for me right then and there. they’ve been trained to de-escalate and communicate effectively and i really do think it’s an excellent option for anyone in a crisis (no matter how urgent).

i know a big concern for a lot of people is that they’ll get the cops called on them, but that only happens when it’s clear that you are at immediate risk of harming yourself. when you call that number their goal is to make sure that you’re SAFE, and if it’s evident that calling the authorities is the only way to ensure your safety, it’s their job to do so.

the number is 1-800-273-8255. please save it if you think you’ll ever need it.

Hump Day Smut!

Happy humpy-est of hump days!!!!

Hope all of y'all are ready to sweat ;)

Keep Yourself Quiet, Dean by bovaria (Dean gets a blowie in a gas station bathroom)

I’m Not Drunk, You’re Drunk by deansdirtylittlesecretsblog (from her 5000 followers celebration. Quick Dean smut.)

Sir by deans-colette (Dean bean getting me all hot and bothered)

Between Hunters and Angels by ilostmyshoe-79 (Threesome with reader, Dean and Cas. hothothothothot)

…And then Mimi hit 5000 followers and wrote some “short” little fics. 
I Missed YouCuddlingScars and Who You Gonna Call with Dean and Just Five More Minutes with Sam

I’m Not Done With You by twofriesshortofhomicide (Demon Dean and some BDSM action)

Thunder by nat2tattd (Some lovely impala smut with Dean)

Better Than Dreaming by twofriesshortofhomicide (Dean rescues reader from an incubus, takes advantage of the fact that she’s already been tied up and put in lingerie.)

Untitled by twofriesshortofhomicide (Dean and reader text back and forth, leading to phone sex and then real sex) ((Are we sensing that Allie found a new blog this week and read thru the entire master list at once?? Sorry. I actually held back because there are several more that I wanted to post. Go check out the master list tho.)

Come With Me Now by meteoraangel (Dean wakes you up in the middle of the night for sexy times. She also wrote a Sam version where you and Sammy blow off a little steam as a research break.)

Realistic Dreams by assbutting-everything (Sam smut, special props because one line says “Bitch-face mode activated.” After reader gets pissed off and it made me lol.)

Quiet by ilostmyshoe-79 (Reader has to be quiet for Sam since Dean is asleep the next bed over. I somewhat recently decided that the whole having-sex-while-someone-else-is-in-the-room-asleep thing kind of eeks me out, but I wanted to have at least a little bit of Sam smut on the list this week. )

Good Samaritan Part 2 by nat2tattd (Skinny dipping with Dean and smut)

Fiery Games by assbutting-everything (Some nice long Dean smut)

Smut timeout:

abaddonwithyall for Wish You Were Here

I’ve had to resort to drastic measures because Jess ripped my heart out and stomped on it, then proceeded to defecate on its pulverized remains with Wish You Were Here. I was lured in with the promise of smut (there’s definitely smut) but my body was not ready for the feels. Oh, and then she went and wrote a prequel, which was also a meat grinder for the feels.  From now on, smut timeout is where smut writers will be sent when they are bad- aka when I don’t get my way and I’m pouting about it. Let’s hope I don’t have to use it most Hump days, JESS.

Alright, that’s it for this week. Until next Wednesday, Happy Humping!!!

how are my new roommates this good…. i just met laura for the second time and she called me honey???? 😭😭😭 and mathias made blueberry cupcakes im gonna cry


This is a Shimada Haruka appreciation post, written with a bit more of personal experience. Sumo’s drawing her portrait and he had asked if I had any inputs. I hadn’t the time to reply to him because I don’t want to give half-assed replies since I was shuffling from places, but now that I’m back in Singapore, I want to do a proper appreciation post. 

Haruu is my Team 4 bias, and while I know she’s in Team 4 then, I didn’t know much about it. It was a period when I first got into the fandom, and I only knew her as Team 4 Captain. I didn’t know she’s a temporary captain and all the stuffs around the scandal or anything, but even as I watched older Team 4/kks stuffs, she strike me as a Captain person. I actually didn’t know it wasn’t her as the captain until much after she stopped being one. Then I caught on the whole, she didn’t become Captain but another member did, when Haruu was the one that stood out and did all the Captain-ish stuffs back then. I was bitter, and I still am, but it’s another topic on it’s own.

She’s the one who always struck me as someone who’s really cheerful, knowing that her smiles would bring smiles on the others who see it. She’s one who can take the jokes that everyone cracks about her and even join in with them to humour everyone, even though deep inside, it must have hurt. She’s the one whom I’ll associate the word, leader, with; it seemed as though the skies can come crumbling down and she would be the one holding it up, smiling even, so that her members and her friends are free from harm. She’s the one who continues to hold onto hope, even if hope seems faraway, and would do her best in everything she’s tasked to, to hope that what she wished for would be fulfilled, and even when it doesn’t, when it doesn’t for many times, she continues holding.

She’s the one that I always looked forward to meeting; I don’t get nervous when I’m going to her handshake even if I’ve nothing to speak to her. Somehow, we will find something to talk, and even just silence, it’s very comforting and beautiful, just to meet her. She’s one that I’ve told that she’s really beautiful and one that she excitedly told me how much weight she had lost. She’s the one who reassured me not to worry for her even with her diet, that she’s looking after her health well. She’s the one who’s passionate about tennis, and really wants to play it regularly. 

All these handshakes I had with her, makes me understand her a little better. I’ve came to learn that she has an amazing memory, remembering all the various poses we did the week before and the session before, and coming up with something different instead. I came to learn that she gets jealous, throwing her towel at Mariya when she saw me in Mariya’s handshake. I’ve came to learn that she really likes to be called Haruu, reassuring me that Haruu’s fine and she liked to be called that when I asked if I should changed to calling her Shimada instead like everyone, and remaking the board to Shimada from the Haruu that I’ve now. I came to learn that she’s really a precious being who deserved to be showered with lots of love for all that she had done, for the team, for her fans. She didn’t need to go along with the weight jokes, she could tell her members to stop it, but she didn’t because it brings laughs and that’s important for the performance. It helped to bring attention to her, when people says she’s fat or loud, and for her, probably any attention is better than no attention, though I’d rather not, and that people show more attention to what she’s capable of. 

I came to learn that she protects her fan really well; a change of handshake rules made it seemed as though we cannot have a note clipped to our shirts for handshake now (though it’s bullshit, because we can).  I was denied entry for her handshake this time when I did that, and Haruu seeing me stuck, looked on at what’s happening before standing up and calling out to the staff. I remembered her words. “Hey, she doesn’t speak Japanese. She’s from Singapore. She always do that, that’s how she talks to me. I don’t know about the other members, but for me, I’m okay with that. Please let her in, I’ve been waiting for her. She doesn’t speak Japanese. You had already read what she wrote on her note, she can’t mean any harm.” And when it happened for the second time in the next session, she saw me stuck again, and called out again. “Hey, she’s the same girl from previously. I said that it’s okay with me. You guys read her note. She doesn’t speak Japanese. She can’t understand what you guys are saying to her. Please let her in.” The fact is that, I do understand, and I understand more than I could speak it. And she knows that I do understand, but choose to help me and speak up for me. The next handshake, I had special arrangements and I met her in a separate lane (TGSK saw to this arrangement and a seemingly higher-level staff i/c of handshake accompanied me) and Haruu laughed, asking if it’s because of the last handshake. 

I want better things for her in the near future. She’s hardcore Japanese fans with lots of handshake tickets for her every time I went for a handshake, and I wish for such wotas to grow in numbers. I hope people give more love and attention to a girl who’s perfect in her own ways, a little different from your typical idol, but yet is a great role-model to many of her peers and fans. There’s a reason why so many members like to be around her, and to be with her, and I hope you will too, find that reason.

Spencer Reid x Reader- Close Calls (Part Two)

Okay so this might end up being four parts. It’s the flashbacks that make it longer, but the story can’t really progress without it. So yeah…there’s going to be more to this!

Part 1: Can be found here.
Part 2: Where you’re at now.
Part 3: Can be found here.

Perhaps love is a minor madness. And as with madness, it’s unendurable alone. The one person who can relieve us is of course the sole person we cannot go to: the one we love. So instead we seek out allies, even among strangers and wives, fellow patients who, if they can’t touch the edge of our particular sorrow, have felt something that cuts nearly as deep. -Andrew Sean Greer

Places like this were nothing new to Reid; cold, seemingly abandoned buildings where footsteps echoed and the overall silence awaits to be shattered by the sound of gunfire and, if they were lucky, cries of relief from the victim. He hoped that was the outcome this time. He didn’t think he could bear anything else.

He followed Morgan’s lead, his weapon held straight in front of him and mimicking Morgan’s actions. For a brief moment, the thought of not being nearly as intimidating as his partner crossed his mind; he lacked the build that Derek did, not to mention all of the social graces and charm that Morgan just seemed to naturally have. Morgan was the hero that every story depicted, not Reid. When people thought of heroes they thought of someone like Derek Morgan or even Aaron Hotchner. No one thinks of the gawky guy that’s always hiding behind a book or spurting out facts like a blood from an arterial wound.

He always kind of pictured Y/N with someone like them, and the way she interacted with Derek made him think that she was attracted to him. It wasn’t like how Derek and Garcia acted, but it was something similar to it. Morgan, of course, always insisted that there was nothing going on between the two of them and that they were just friends.

His thoughts wandered back to the case a few months ago, when Derek and Y/N went undercover as a couple who just moved into the neighborhood who were interested in partaking in swinger parties in order to track an unsub who was targeting couples who participated in them. Derek and Y/N were so close together almost the entire night, and when they kissed he felt his heart fill to the brim with something that didn’t seem like blood anymore. It felt as if his heart was pumping a toxic sludge it was not meant to circulate, causing it to feel like it was slowly shutting down until they were finished with the case.

Reid shook his head and blinked, trying to clear the thought from his mind. This was not a time to replay unnecessary jealousy, dammit! Y/N was still in here, or out there, or quite possibly dead and–

He took a deep breath, letting the stale air fill his lungs before he forced it out again. He followed Morgan as they continued to clear the building, trying his hardest to keep moving despite his heavy heart.

Spencer walked into the BAU, his eyes scanning the desks for Y/N’s face. It had been a few days since they had first heard of the case, and to the team’s dismay Catherine Edwards had been found dead yesterday in the exact same location as the previous victims. At the end of the day, Spencer had insisted on dropping Y/N off at her apartment, just to make sure she got home safely. He had even walked her to her door and stayed for a few hours. The staying over wasn’t intentional, but they had started talking in the car, debating theories and philosophies as they occasionally did, and it carried on until late in the night. When he got home, he fell right to sleep aided by the usual side effect of a giddy heart, only to wake up a few hours later with a nightmare that left him fumbling through the dark for his phone with trembling hands and watering eyes.

Part of him debated on calling her; he was afraid that he was bothering her too much as it was, and that she was getting tired of having him constantly fret over her. When he did call, she never picked up her phone. That was the first red flag; she would always answer when he called, and if she didn’t answer right away she would call him as soon as she could. She was always so reliable, so consistent. And the fact that his nightmare that night was about her hadn’t helped matters.

“Has anyone seen Y/N?” Spencer asked, “I tried calling her last night but she never answered.”

“Maybe she had her phone turned off?” Kate said with a shrug.

“It didn’t go straight to voicemail; it rang five times before the voice kicked in. I even called her landline, too,” he frowned. Maybe he had been bothering her…

“I’m sure she’s fine, Spence,” JJ assured him.

“She would usually be in by now, though,” Morgan mused, “Maybe the buses are running late.”

“I don’t see why the buses would run late,” Spencer thought out loud, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “There would be no cause for them to run late; there was nothing on my way here that would indicate any route changes or delays.”

“She could have called in sick, too,” Callahan suggested.

Spencer shook his head, “She seemed perfectly fine when I dropped her off. There were no signs that she wasn’t feeling well. A little tired, sure, but not sick.”

“Reid, can I talk to you for a moment?” Morgan huffed, setting the papers on his desk.

“Umm, sure?” Reid questioned as the agent stood from his desk and walked over to him, gripping his arm and pulling him away from the rest of the team.

Derek opened the door to one of the interview rooms and slipped inside, not loosening his grip on the scrawny profiler until the door was shut and both of them were inside the little room. Derek flipped on the lights and faced Spencer with a scrutinizing look in his eyes and a slight frown on his face.

“You know, for someone who insists they don’t have any romantic feelings towards Y/N you’re pretty worried about her.”

“I don’t have any romantic feelings for Y/N.”

“Uh huh,” Derek agreed with sarcasm-coated words, “Sure you don’t.”

“I’m just worried, okay? Can’t I be worried about a colleague’s safety?” Spencer asked, crossing his arms defensively.

“Yeah, except that if it were Jennifer or Hotch or even me who hadn’t shown up to work today or hadn’t called you back in the middle of the night you wouldn’t be nearly as upset about it as you are with Y/L/N.”

“First, she always answers the phone when I call her. I don’t think there has ever been a time where she hasn’t called me back. Second, she has no reason to miss work. She doesn’t have any family to see, she doesn’t have many friends, and she doesn’t really get sick enough to miss work. Third, even if she was sick enough to miss work she would never leave early despite my protests for her to go home and get some rest. Fourth, I would be worried for your safety as well as everyone elses, but for now it is not you or JJ or Hotchner that’s missing. It’s Y/N.”

Derek shook his head as he chuckled, “Even after I pointed it out you’ve still never call her by her last name.”

Spencer felt his face flush as he turned his gaze away from Derek. He hated to admit it, but it was true; he never referred to her by her last name. The young doctor never referred to her as Y/L/N unless they were on a case and the word “agent” was in front of it. It never really sounded right to him; calling her by her last name always felt so impersonal and it never came naturally to him. It was one of the things that Derek had pointed out within the first month of Y/N joining the Bureau, and it was what lead Derek to believe that maybe Spencer felt something more than just platonic or professional feelings.

He knew that Morgan probably had figured everything out, but he still debated on telling him. After all, having a romantic feelings towards a colleague always seemed unprofessional, and despite Morgan’s protests there was still that small tugging feeling he got whenever he saw Y/N and Morgan bantering with each other and tossing out flirtatious remarks. But Morgan knew things that he didn’t; he knew how to interact with people and how love worked. Derek seemed to be fluent in the foreign language of the heart. He had probably had his heart broken and reconstructed from whatever pieces were left, only to have it be numerous times stronger than it had been before. Derek Morgan might not have been the first name on Spencer’s list of people he could trust, but he couldn’t keep his feelings towards Y/N bottled up forever.

“Okay fine,” Spencer said finally, his voice oddly quiet and fracturing under the weight of his worry, “Maybe I have…romantic feelings towards her, but what do my feelings for her have to do with anything? So what if she’s one of the few people I’ve ever felt comfortable enough to tell her practically everything? So what if my day feels infinitely better whenever I hear her laugh from across the office or that I feel my heart speed up to that of a hummingbird’s wingbeat whenever I see her smile? All of these things doesn’t make the fact that Y/N hasn’t been seen or heard from in the past ten hours when she would have been here at least two hours ago any more or less important than it would be otherwise.”

“Okay just…calm down there, Hemingway,” Derek answered with a deep sigh.

“Actually Hemingway didn’t really concern himself with descriptive writing,” Spencer explained, his voice still strained,  “Much of his writing was strictly dialogue based, which was a much more masculine way of writing. However his contemporary, F. Scott Fitzgerald, was much more effeminate in his writing style and more likely to use more descriptions in his writing and less dialogue. A good example of this difference would be The Sun Also Rises versus The Great Gatsby.”

There was a brief look of dumbfoundedness that made its way to Derek’s features before the man shook his head and replied, “Anyway, if it’ll make you feel better I will be more than happy to call her to see if she answers.”

“Thanks,” Spencer sighed as he watched Derek dig through the pockets of his jeans to find his phone. Derek pulled out his phone, and within the next few moments he was punching in her digits and holding the phone to his ear. Spencer held his breath as the faint sound of the phone ringing chipped away at the silence. He could hear her voicemail greeting, the cheerfulness in her voice that managed to still be heard over the anticipation.

“Hey Y/N, it’s Morgan,” Derek said finally, “Call me back when you get this, ‘kay dollface? Actually now that I think of it you might want to call Reid first before he starts chewing up the furniture. You know how dogs get–”

“Don’t say that!” Spencer hissed. Derek cast him a knowing smirk before he finished.

“Talk to you soon. Buh bye,”  Derek concluded and with a triumphant expression on his face he hung up the phone, “There. Better now?”

“I would be if you didn’t compare my distress to that of a dog,” Spencer huffed, crossing his arms and contorting his face into a pout.

“Relax, Pretty Boy,” Derek said, “I’m sure she didn’t notice. But try to calm down, alright? You don’t need to be worrying about this. Y/N’s a total badass, she can take care of herself. Remember the time we went for drinks after finishing a case and she punched that one guy and broke his nose?”

“The only knowledge I have of what happened after he punched me is from you guys telling it,” Spencer admitted. He remembered the things that lead up to that incident fairly well; he had heard the man objectifying Y/N as she had left to go the restroom, and he had called him out on it. He was was doing well for the majority of the time, using his years of criminal profiling to reveal the douchebag’s every flaw. Spencer was just about ready to start on the patron’s feelings of sexual inadequacy when he felt the man’s fist connect to his face. He remembered staggering a little and falling backwards, the sound of Y/N’s heels clicking across the sticky linoleum floor and a squeak of surprise…but the rest was a blur.

Derek laughed, remembering the incident fondly. To Reid it almost seemed like he was hiding something, like there was some sort of universal truth that everyone knew except for the doctor, but for some reason he didn’t feel the need to fuss over it at the moment. He supposed his concern for Y/N overshadowed his curiosity and knowing whether or not she was alright meant more to him that knowing what it was that Morgan was hiding.

There was a quiet knock on the door, followed by JJ peeking her head through the door.

“Hey when you guys are finished in here Garcia wanted to show us something,” she announced with a slightly apologetic expression and slipped out again, not bothering to close the door behind her.

“We should probably see what she has,” Derek mumbled. Spencer nodded in agreement and the two of them headed for the door.

“Oh and Reid,” Morgan added, stopping the young doctor at the door, “You really ought to tell Y/N how you feel. It doesn’t have to be now, but when you’re ready. Otherwise whenever you see her that lighthearted feeling you get is gonna be weighed down with words left unsaid. And it’s not like we have a consistent job, either.”

“But what if she doesn’t like me back and things get…awkward between us?”

“You know her better than that. And if she doesn’t like you back then there’s always other people out there. You felt this way about Maeve, and you thought there wasn’t going to be anyone else that made you feel the same way. And then Y/N came along.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, if she doesn’t return your feelings then it’s not the end of the world. She’ll still be your friend, and you’ll find someone else. You’re stronger than you think, Genius.”

Spencer nodded. He knew he had to, and whenever he saw her he wanted to tell every feeling that had flourished within his heart and every thought that had nestled in his mind, but it never felt right. He felt like she deserved to hear what he had been holding back, but she deserved it told in a way that wasn’t an explanation to why he would buy her a cup of coffee before anyone else on the team or why he lost his train of thought whenever she complimented him, leaving him with nothing more than a dumbfounded smile and a slight shade of pink that her words dusted upon his face. And as he followed Derek out of the small room and towards Garcia’s office his mind began filling with thoughts of her; of the sensations she always left him with, of how much he loved her, and of how he hoped that thinking of her in this light would take away whatever uneasiness came from her uncharacteristic absence.

Car Rides With The Hemmings Clan

            I leaned back, double-checking our four-year-old daughter’s seatbelt, before setting up the camera on the dashboard. I glanced over at my husband in the passenger seat. He had sunglasses perched on his face, hiding his baby blue eyes our daughter had inherited. I reached over and snagged them off his face.

“It’s sunny,” he complained, reaching out for them.

“One, you don’t get to wear sunglasses in a video. Two, I like your eyes. Three, sunshade, honey,” I told him with a sigh as I turned on the camera.

            He sighed before flipping the sunshade down, giving in to my request. I smiled as I started recording.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he mumbled.

“I am though,” I told him honestly. “You’re the best husband and the best father. Maisie, isn’t Daddy the best?”

“Daddy is the best!” she shouts from the backseat.

“Daddy loves you a lot, baby girl,” Luke told her, glancing back toward her in the rearview mirror as he spoke.

            A broad smile had formed across his face when he looked at her. I was always his soft spot, ever since we first met when we were seventeen. Now, Maisie was taking the cake from me, but I didn’t mind. Seeing him love her with every ounce in his body made me love him even more than I ever thought I could.

“Okay, so,” I said, looking at the camera. “Luke and I wanted to let all of you in on what goes on during our family car rides.”

“I’m doing this under duress,” Luke added.

“He’s not. He loves doing this. Ask anyone who pulls up next to us at traffic lights,” I corrected.

“Don’t,” Luke laughed. “All the guys are going to make so much fun of me for this. Don’t you dare tell them I do this willingly. Why did I agree to let you film this and put this on the internet?”

“Because you love me and you love the little Nugget in the back who thought it would be cute to show everyone our family car trips,” I reminded him before turning my attention back to the camera. “So, Maisie loves Frozen-”

“Only because you showed it to her like a million fu-freaking times since the day she was born.” Luke managed to catch his curse word this time, but most of the time I have to remind him to watch his mouth. He’s always with the guys and they don’t bother to clean up their language at all, so whenever Luke is home, I have to remind him to watch his mouth. Luke was the odd man out of the band as the only dad since Maisie wasn’t exactly planned. Luke and I had gotten married young and wanted to wait a while before starting a family, but Maisie came along within the first year of our marriage. We had been terrified at first, but now neither of us would change a thing. We couldn’t imagine our lives without our little Nugget, as Luke had called her from the day I first found out I was pregnant.

“Anyway, Nugget loves the movie and she loves listening to the soundtrack in the car. Luke and I have also been getting into it and Maisie said we should show you what we do,” I told the camera. “Ready, Luke?”

“I need a son,” Luke groaned, banging a hand on the steering wheel. “There’s too much girl in my family.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I laughed before turning the song on.

            Luke, despite his earlier protests, slipped right into character when Maisie started clapping as opening lines of “Love is an Open Door” floated through the car. I started lip singing along to the song. Luke joined me enthusiastically during his parts. We went back and forth, performing the duet as he drove. He occasionally glanced over at me as he mouthed the words and I had to bite back a laugh. I managed to get my husband, a six-four pop-punk singer and guitar player with a lip ring, an eyebrow piercing, and multiple tattoos to lip sing a song from a Disney movie in the car with me.

            When the song ended, Maisie clapped again, making both Luke and I laugh.

“So, that’s how the Hemmings do car rides,” I said to the camera. “I hope you guys liked that and, if you’re one of Luke’s band friends, I promise he’s masculine.”

“Great. Thanks, honey. That’ll solve everything,” Luke sighed. He glanced back in the rearview mirror at his daughter, smiling form ear to ear before he added, “But my Nugget and my wife are happy, so forget everything else.”

“Hemmings clan signing off. Everyone wave to the camera!” I shouted.

            All three of us waived toward the camera, Maisie being the most enthusiastic, before I stopped recording and shut it off. Just as I slipped the camera back into my purse, Luke pulled into his parents’ driveway.

“You getting her or am I?” I asked Luke.

“I’ve got her,” he said.

            I smiled as he eagerly hopped out of the car and opened the back door to scoop Maisie up out of her car seat. Whenever Luke was home, he took over as many parenting duties as he possibly could, spending every single second with her he could squeeze into the times she was awake. He’d called me countless nights this past tour, crying about how he was a terrible father and how he should be there for her all the time. He told me once that he was terrified she was going to start hating him because he was never around. My heart broke the night he told me that because I knew it was never going to be true, but Luke didn’t. Maisie adored him. She loved him with every inch of her little person. She could never hate him.

“Do you want to walk or do you want me to carry you?” Luke asked her softly.

            I always loved seeing him interact with her because he was so gentle with her. His large, calloused hands usually gripped a pick and a guitar or a microphone for all they were worth, but he treated her so carefully, never being rough with her. He screamed at massive audiences ever night, but never raised his voice at her. I knew he’d be an excellent father, but he went above and beyond with her.

“Ah, there you three are!” Liz greeted us with cheek kisses and hugs when we walked into the house. “Oh, you’re getting so big, Maisie!”

“Do you want to hold her, mum?” Luke asked Liz.

“I want to stay with you, Daddy,” she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Later,” his mom smiled. “I think she wants her daddy right now.”

            Luke couldn’t hide the smile playing across his face. He pressed a soft kiss to Maisie’s head as we walked into the kitchen where the rest of the family was. His brothers reached for him to mess with his hair and tackle him, as brothers do, but refrained when they saw Maisie in his arms.

“Aw, is Nugget sleepy?” Jack asked her.

“No,” she replied. “I just love my daddy.”

“Love you too, Nuggest,” he told her. “So much more than you can possibly understand.”

A/N: I’m sorry. I’m very, very sorry. That’s all. - Kate