#nebraska flood

[angelx1992]

[timelineman-of-titors-edge]

I sent an email to my reps about KOSA, Here's how that went:

For reference, I live in Nebraska.

So far, the only response I've received is from Mike Flood, who sent what appears to be a set of long-winded platitudes, trying to assure that there is nothing nefarious about the bill. Basically feeding me the same line he was fed about the bill: This is about protecting kids and trying to reduce rates of anxiety disorders and depression.

What a load of shit

[scholarofgloom]

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

Just A Little Spice - Dean x Reader

“Just A Little Spice” - Dean x Reader

Rating Teen

Dean x Reader

Tags: Language, Dean Makes Bad Decisions, Dean in Mild Peril, Dean is Infuriating but We Still Love Him

Word Count: 1500

Dean likes to spice things up, but it would be nice if he didn’t have to put his life in danger in the process.

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "I would burn down the world for you." dialogue square.

A/N: Something Short and Kinda Cute. I ended up finding a way to tie this to my other Bingo Square “Ice Play.”

Image created in Canva (photo used/found through Google Image Search)

You’d gotten back to the bunker a day later. Exhausted from the heat, satiated by the relief from the iceman. You’d found Sam organizing and labeling ingredients in his witchcraft cabinet. He was going to try a few new spells from Rowen’s bequeathed library. Realizing he needed some specialty items, he had to head up Nebraska way to meet with an herbalist who sourced supernatural spices.

Dean hovered near the cabinet, picking up jars, and mumbling pronunciations to himself. Sitting on a nearby stool beside a podium meant to support hefty grimoires for spellbook incantations, you chuckled at Sam’s constant swatting of Dean’s hands with each new inspection. You stared at Dean with your best telepathic “stop playing with your brother’s toys” look.

He frowned, relented, and placed a tincture back on a shelf. “That dude, Elijah?”

“Yep,” Sam huffed.

“What’s so important you gotta get right now?” Dean shrugged.

“Nothing important. I found a couple of spells that can change atmospheric pressure and manipulate temperature shifts. Was thinking those could come in handy in the greenhouse. Planning some experiments with out-of-season fruits and vegetables or plants that usually can’t grow in our area.”

You smiled. Sam had become quite the gardener the past year.

Sam eyed Dean in a way that cued me in on the fact that they had something private to discuss. Dean shot you a gentle “get the fuck out” request with raised brows and a head tilt.

“Alright, I’m gonna get unpacked.” You slapped your thighs and gave Sam a forearm squeeze as you passed. Dean tapped your ass on your way out.

You closed the door but lingered long enough to hear Sam, “I figured you were still planning something for-”

“Keep it movin’, sweetheart!” Dean bellowed.

You sighed and smiled to yourself. Dean had a surprise in mind for your anniversary.

~

You’d gone along with Dean’s ask for you to head out solo and grab beers and other supplies later that afternoon. Sam was well on his way to Nebraska by then. And, even if you didn’t play dumb well, you could give Dean time to do whatever it was he was doing for you.

Neither one of you was terribly romantic, but Dean could on occasion whip up the softest, cuddliest little moments.

So, two hours later, as Dean had nonchalantly yet specifically detailed for you to return, you stood outside the bunker door and readied for an anniversary celebration for the books.

Instead, after a hefty pull and the rattle and creak of the iron cell-like door, a plume of smoke released and assaulted your senses. Your eyes watered and you began to cough.

Beer and supplies dropped outside the threshold, you covered your mouth and nose with the collar of your T-shirt and darted inside. You crab walked down the stairs, below the cloud of smoke that hovered at the ceiling. Emergency flood lights flickered over the war room, washing it in an eerie red glow.

The bunker door slammed shut when your boots hit the ground floor, but that never happened. Some sort of automatic electrical protocol engaged for a lockdown scenario?

“Dean!” You tried your best shout to carry through the cavernous levels. He wasn’t in the library and the source of the smoke wasn’t anywhere near your current location. You dashed to the kitchen to what you assumed held the source.

You rounded the kitchen entrance. The contents of a heavy stock pot flicked with flames and churned out thick puffs of smoke on the stovetop. Your heart stopped, finding Dean splayed on the floor by the oven. Your eyes widened. Your coughing worsened at the acidic, burning taste filling your nose and mouth.

“Dean!” you called out again between wheezes. In the hazy film of smoke you spotted his head roll at your voice. You surveyed the area in seconds. You dropped to your knees and crawled over to him. You nestled by his side, grabbed his face by the jaw and jiggled. “Dean?”

“Hm?”

“Are you alright?”

His lids flitted open. Upon a deep inhale, his coughing fit began.

You’d freak out and try to figure out what irritant or poison was in the smoke later. For the moment he was alive.

After shielding him from further smoke inhalation, you dragged him by his ankles out of the kitchen unceremoniously up and over a step. The back of his head cracked onto the granite with one of your sharp tugs. He cursed into a terry kitchen towel you’d wrapped around his mouth and nose. About 20 yards into the shit show of a rescue he had enough awareness to flip onto his stomach and urge you that he could manage.

You hopped up, lungs on fire, and ran back into the kitchen despite his yelling and a failed attempt to hook his hand around one of your shins. You grabbed the fire extinguisher in the kitchen corner, pointed the nozzle at the pot, and, from a safe distance, sprayed the flame retardant all over the stove.

The fire was finally out and with it the smoke production.

A familiar smell wafted through the heat now that the flames had dissipated. Roasted Pork? Barbecue?

Arms dropped to your side. They were heavy and searing from the exertion. Tears poured from your eyes. Through blurry blinks as the scene cleared, you spotted a tiny glass jar a few feet from where you’d found Dean.

The extinguisher clattered to the floor. You picked up the jar, examined it with a sigh, accompanied by many more coughs, and trudged your way back to Dean.

He was sat on the floor, back against one of the hall walls. He clutched the towel that had been wrapped around his face. He looked up at you with tear-streaked cheeks beneath the flashing red floodlights. “Thank Christ,” he wheezed out.

“You alright?” you asked and fell to your knees beside him. One hand steadied yourself on his thigh.

He nodded.

You waited a few agonizing minutes with him, gaze steady on each other. The air cleared as each second ticked by, enough for you to both begin to breathe with some regularity. The coughs subsided. His hand clutched yours and squeezed.

You pulled your phone out and dialed Sam.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sam.” You swallowed, throat dry. “Got a question for you,” you rasped.

“Yeah, sure. You okay?”

“Just peachy.”

You watched Dean’s face begin to redden for another reason.

“Curious, what’s this firecracker pepper do from your stash?”

Sam’s silence on the other end didn't bode well. “Why?”

“I’m guessing it’s not an herb you’d use for culinary experiments.”

After three more beats. “He didn’t?”

“Yep, he did.”

“Holy shit! That stuff is highly combustible! It’s meant to oxygenate a fire and sustain it for a prolonged period.”

“Gathered that. Anything we should worry about with substantial smoke inhalation?”

“Nothing more than the usual. I can be back in a few hours.”

“No, no, we’re good. He’ll clean up his own mess.”

Dean frowned.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. You enjoy your time away from us.”

Sam sighed. “For fuck’s sake. Never a dull moment.”

“Not with your brother it isn’t. Talk soon.”

You ended the call and stared at Dean. Hard. “Dean?” you prodded.

“We were out of pepper!” His shoulders lifted and met his ears.

“I was out getting supplies!”

“If I’d asked you to get pepper you’d have known I was cooking!”

“I already knew you were cooking for our anniversary, Mr. Not Subtle!”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he murmured. “We missed celebrating the way I’d planned because of the hunt. I was making those spicy pulled pork sandwiches you love with all the extra chiles. I tossed some of the pepper in and this fucking flash bomb happened. I jumped back and lost my footing. Hit my head and that was all she wrote.”

You leaned in to feel the knot on the back of his head. “You probably have a concussion.”

He shrugged. “Nothing new there. I’ll be fine.”

You fumed, nostrils flared. “How can you be so, so-” you tossed your hands in his direction, “-this!”

He dared to toss you a cheeky grin.

“Dean, it’s not funny! You could have burned the bunker down and who knows what could’ve happened to-”

He grabbed your face with both hands. Quietly, he stated, “I would burn down the world for you.”

“Don’t do that.” You whispered. “You aren’t gonna get out of me being mad at you.”

He smiled. “Good. That means we can finally have angry make-up sex.”

You pursed your lips together and swallowed down a laugh.

His expression turned serious. “I made a mistake. It happens. I’ll clean up the mess in the kitchen.”

The thunder in your chest faded away. “You can be so careless sometimes.”

He nodded.

“You just act first, think later.”

He nodded.

“Well, you're right that you’re cleaning up all that mess and whatever the hell you did to the bunker.” You pointed down the hall to the kitchen and up at the lights.

He nodded. “Absolutely, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine! You can kiss me now!”

He repeated. “Absolutely, sweetheart.”

[aphrodyx]

We’re all we have

supernatural oneshot: Sam Winchester x Dean Winchester x y/n (mainly Dean)

tw//: mentions of death, mentions of suicide, self-hate, victim-blaming, and mentions of being unlovable

synopsis: you’ve been waiting for your brothers to come back from their hunting trip, however, you and Dean get in an argument. It makes you question his thoughts about you and your place in the family.

fem! reader x sam winchester, fem! reader x dean winchester, family au, some angst, and some foul language

an: sorry if this is shit, i just luv my bbs 🙁

It’s been a while, too long even. It’s been over a week since Sam and Dean went on their hunt in Valentine, Nebraska. It was suppose to be only a nest of vampires. Seven? Eight? Maybe nine? They could take them easily, so why is it taking them forever to return my calls. One last time, I swear if he doesn’t answer…

Pang! Pang! Pang!

“Open up y/n!” Dean’s voice muffled through the metal.

Seriously? Now they come what the hell. I rush to the door to open it.

“Hey! Hey! How’s my favorite girl doing?” Dean walks in shuffling around me, down the stairs to the table.

“Dude c’mon— hey y /n… how are you” Sam stopping in his tracks to acknowledge me with a soft smile.

“I’m angry and you know that, what the hell Sam!” I turn haltingly and follow Dean.

I pace around Dean, angrily waiting for an explanation. They were gone for seven full days with zero contact, and it’s not like we had an argument. Over 70 messages sent and 50 missed calls, I thought of the worse. They could have been dead in a ditch or heads ripped off; why didn’t they call me, text me, sent cass, absolutely anything to me to make sure they were still alive.

“Dean, I need answers right now!”

“Y/n, I’m sorry okay… I should’ve texted you. We’re alright, see?” Dean spins in a 360, showing himself injure-free.

“No! I’m sick a tired of these excuses, you’ve been so distant. You’re so quick to go from one hunt to another, your not slowing down at all. Im worried about you. You’re not eating good or sleep properly, and when was the last time you took a shower. Seriously?

“Y/n…” Dean starts getting frustrated walking up to her.

“Y/n…” Sam interferes, trying to calm her down.

“No! fucking talk to me! What’s the matter with you!” I slam my fist down on the table.

“My dad is dead! Do you know what’s that like? To have your father taken away from you and not even knowing who did it!” He slams his fist down, kicking a chair away.

“Dean, calm down please. Yelling at each other isn’t going to mend our problem right now” Sam puts his hand on his older brother’s shoulder.

“I lost him too, you know? He was like my dad too Dean?” I say up in his face.

“He wasn’t your dad though, as much as you think he was” He pushes around y/n and storms off to his room.

I stand there. Zero thoughts flooding my mind. Am I angry? Upset? I don’t even know. I know we aren’t actually siblings and I know John wasn’t my real dad, but… he took care of me. He took me in when no one else would, fed me, gave me a roof over my head, and a family: sam and dean. Why would he say that to me… did he really not consider me as his sister… as his family? I sniffle a bit, crouching down on the floor.

“Y/n…” sam says quietly, sitting down with me on the floor. “You know Dean didn’t mean that.. John was your dad too. He was a dad to all of us, you know… he takes grief harder than the rest of us”

Sniffle… Sniffle… Sniffle

“Still, I don’t know… that felt different” I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. “He’s never raised his voice up at me… I never wanted anything less for him.”

“I know… me too… it’s just been a rough couple of weeks, he’s been sleeping terribly and drinking a whole lot more than usual” Sam rubs his face with his hands.

“It’s my fault though… I should’ve returned your calls and texts. I know you mean the best for both of us; I’ll be honest, it’s been rough for me too. I just… I don’t know ive kept my phone on silent and just didn’t want to deal with anyone… even you.”

Hearing sam confess his true feelings felt like a demon blade right through my chest. He didn’t want to talk to me either. All this time, they’ve been grieving. Maybe I didn’t truly understand, John did raise them all their lives. Their mom died when Dean was just four years old and sam at six months. I don’t know anything about how they feel. They’re broken and lost. A piece of them has been shattered and they can never get that back.

“Im sorry Sam. Im so sorry, ive been so selfish and I wasn’t caring about you guys at all and I-“

“No. Stop, you are the most caring, loving, kind-spirited person I know and I love you so so much. Dean is just… We’re just… We have a hard time regulating our emotions especially right now. If we give ourselves the chance to sit down properly, we’re going to lose our minds.” Sam exhales fast, holding his thoughts in for so long.

“It’s not you, I swear. But he shouldn’t have done that to you, it was fucked up and he knows it. I promise he will come around and apologize, you know he’s stubborn so it might take a couple of days, hours if you’re lucky, but knowing Dean… were pretty lucky all the time., right?” Sam chuckles, glancing at y/n’s glossy eyes. “Please stop crying, it hurts me a lot more than it does for you to see you like this.”

“I know… I’m okay...”

I had doubts, I know Sam says Dean said that out of frustration but I don’t know. I’ll give him some time though, I know he looked up to his dad for everything. He cared so much for him in deep admiration and devotion. Just like how I feel about Sam and Dean. I push myself off the floor, dried tears smudged on my cheeks.

“Rest now, you’ve had a long day, and there should be Chinese take out in the kitchen” I hug Sam: rubbing his hands up and down, letting him know I’ll be alright.

—————— ————time skip———————————

I lay down on my bed with music blasting in my headphones, listening to “Carry on Wayward Son” by Kansas; Dean’s favorite song. He told me anytime I’m upset, mad, happy, or confused I can always play this song and I’ll know what to do. I gave him space for a couple of hours and now I can’t fall asleep. I hate being in any grey area with Dean, he took care of me after John was gone on hunts as well. He was always there for Sam and I.

I hear a quiet knock at the door.

“Come in” I sit up, taking off my headphones to see who’s about to walk into my room.

“Hey… can we talk?” Dean says leaning against the door frame, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, what’s up” I scoot over making room for the both us on my twin xl bed.

“Y/n… Im so so sorry for how I acted with you today, I was a complete fucking jerk and I didn’t mean anything I said.” Dean spits out disappointingly. “John— dad. You lost him too, not just me nor Sam. You. You lost the only man who ever cared for you, loved you, knew you”

“Dean—“

“No. Let me continue. Dad was in your life for fifteen years. Fifteen! What right did I have to say that he wasn’t your dad either? I knew you since I was twelve, sammy was seven. We grew up together. We’re always and will be family. How the fuck could I say that to you?” Dean covers his face in his hands in shame.

“Y/n, ive been so selfish, I should’ve stopped what I was doing after dad died and just been there for you, for sammy. He’s been trying to stop me from going on all these hunts, but I won’t listen. I never listen. That’s my problem, im such an idiot.”

“Please forgive me, I didn’t mean it at all. Ive been in my head and these aren’t excuses but it’s just been so hard. It’s just always been so hard, and now dad gone just feels like my breaking point. I should’ve replied back to your calls and texts, Ive just been so angry and I just needed to kill. I needed to get out all these thoughts, and the voices out. I couldn’t stand a second staying in the bunker.” Dean’s softly sobbing now uncontrollably.

“Dean… I know… I just know how close you were with dad, I should’ve considered what would happen-“

“No, you shouldn’t consider anything. Im the oldest, I shouldve been there for you, and not the other way around. It’s just been so suffocating lately. I can’t breathe, I can’t walk, I can’t eat, for life doesn’t feel real anymore.”

I scoot closer to Dean, picking up his head.

“Don’t talk like that, we’re here still: sam, cass, and me. Your family is still here and we care so much for you. We are so loved Dean, please see that. I know it’s hard right now but going through this alone, and isolating yourself? That isn’t the way to go, we will get through this together. Like we always do. Family sticks together, Winchesters forever”

Dean’s glossy eyes reaches y/n’s; he reaches out, grasping to the sides of head, and brings it closer to him. Kissing the middle of her forehead, he says, “I never deserved you.”

“I never deserved you; I never knew I’d get loved like this ever again from people. Until John came, and told me it’s okay to come home with him. He told me he’d protect and care for me. But within all that, I never knew I would get two amazing brothers along the way.”

Dean rests his forehead against y/n’s. He takes her hand in his and squeezes it. Dean has always been this hard core man from the outside, but truly he’s just a hurt child. He always has been. It hasn’t been easy for him: losing his mom, being forced into the family business, surviving each hunt, and caring for sam. I could never blame his behavior now, he just hasn’t had the time to heal. He needs to heal, but he can’t.

“I love you a lot Dean, I hope you know that. I truly do.” I kiss the side of his head.

“I know you do, I love you a lot too y/n, you’re my little sister. Forgive me please.”

“I forgive you… but no more hunts, at least for now, we need to all take time and grieve, and spend some time together. No hunting business, no demon or angel business, just family. We can even go see Jodie for a few days?”

“Thank you y/n, seriously. Thank you for forgiving me because I don’t think I would have been able to sleep tonight if you didn’t. And yeah whatever you want to do: a family trip! Seeing Jodie will be amazing, little trip into the forest to the cabin.” Dean smiles facing y/n while pushing her hair out of her face.

“Perfect! We’ll tell Sam in the morning, it’s almost three a.m. we should probably try to sleep now.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he gets up and walks towards the door. Turning around abruptly, he says “thank you again, sweetheart. I know I let my emotions get the best of me, but I’ll try. I’ll try because I don’t want to make you feel like you don’t belong in this family. I could never let myself live again if I said that to you again.”

“I know Dean, trust me I do. Im glad we talked, dad wouldn’t have wanted this between us would he now?”

“No, he wouldn’t. He’s probably calling me an asshole for saying that to you, Im definitely on his bad side right now.”

“He knows we’re struggling, he won’t blame you and neither will I.”

Dean chuckles, smiling to the ceiling. I can still see how broken he feels inside, but it won’t go away in one night. It’ll take time and im willingly to help him out, im willing to help them both out.

“Goodnight y/n” Dean whispers

“Goodnight Dean” I whisper back.

[vampirezogar]

I gotta know about the food of ancient cultures.

And not in like an Epic of Gilgamesh meets Portal type of "And by a pie, what I meant was darkness and torrential flooding" way.

I NEED to know what Agrarian Greg's favorite snack was. There were streets back then, I AM DEAD CERTAIN there was street food. What the fuck did the construction crew at Gobekli Tepe daydream about gorging themselves on. I KNOW THEY DID, I'VE WORKED IN THE CONSTRUCTION INDUSTRY, I KNOW YOU CAN SAY "dumpling" AND HEAR THE WHOLE CREW GO "aaaaah, noooo, I'm trying to focus dude, I know a guy in nebraska who has a fuckin recipe I'm gonna have to call him, god dammit."

[reyolfx]

destiel fic excerpt - claire kinda tricks dean into going to pride with her

okay i've been in a massive block lately for any writing whatsoever but i'm TRYING to get back into it. mentally i'm just not really anywhere but i would like to be anchored back down into writing mode.

so here's a little bit of the destiel fic i have in progress. it's a dean focused post-15x19 (lol what finale) fix-it that deals a lot with dean's grief. this particular excerpt is quiiiiite a ways in, cas has been dead for almost a year at this point (happy destiel ending guaranteed fam). dean is still absolutely grieving but he's been doing a lot of work.

(warning dean does use the word queer here in a way that's like, halfway between accepting and internalised homophobia - it's not made out to be a big deal in this but i thought it would mention anyways)

***

"I'm not a parade guy, Claire, and I sure as hell ain't a flag waving queer. I'm not - I'm not this." Dean gestures vaguely to the revelry and upbeat atmosphere around him. He feels like a fish on a bike.

Claire shrugs with her whole body. "I don't give two shits what you think you are or aren't, grandpa. Every baby gay needs to attend their first Pride, it's like a right of passage or whatever."

Dean gawks at her. "What the fuck," he sputters. "Baby- did you just call me grandpa and a baby gay in the same sentence? What the fuck is that?"

Claire rolls her eyes like Dean's a fucking idiot. He feels like one right now, in his jeans and flannel with a knife tucked into his waistband, surrounded by rainbow everything and kids making out in those weird napkin tops that don't pass their navels.

She says, "exactly what it sounds like, loser. You're old, but you finally had your big gay realization, it's fresh and shit, erego, baby gay. Reborn a queer, hallelujah."

Dean stares at her like she's speaking another language, but he latches on to one bit that's plain. "Ain't that fresh," he mutters.

Because. Because it's not like Dean never had an inkling he was into dudes as well as chicks before. Not like he never had any tiny lightbulb moments while drooling over Doctor Sexy or being 16 and watching a hunter in his 20s clean a gun in front of him. It's just that every time that lightbulb flicked on, Dean had been very quick and very thorough in burying it 6 feet under like it was a body in a grave after a salt'n burn. Expert, even. Like he was was with real graves. He could go years without that lightbulb resurfacing, and he could forget. He could flirt with women and forget, kiss women and forget, take women back to his motel room when he was 24, haunting small towns all alone, and forget. It was easy. Because women's waists and women's hair and women's voices made it easy. When they pitched their words low and came on to him with confidence and a shadow, a daintier echo of violence than what he was used to, it was easy. What would have been the point in—in anything else?

Nothing. No point.

Until his best friend told him he loved him and his graveyard of buried lightbulbs was flooded, upturned, exposed. Electrified. He sees the bones of every man he ever desired like they're cartoons sticking their fingers into sockets.

Bzzzt. That hunter with his rolled up sleeves, exposed forearms, cleaning his gun while chatting easily to John. Dean sitting there, trying his best to be a part of the conversation, puff himself up like he belonged at the table, 16 in a too-big jacket, a real hunter, a real man, dragging his eyes away from the hunter's hands again and again until he could unfocus them entirely with the beers his dad let him sip.

Bzzzt. A shop teacher of his, once, during a 9th grade stint somewhere in Nebraska. Mr. Callaghan. Showing the class how to use a circular saw, sparks flying, Dean's eyes wide, mouth a little dry.

Bzzzt. Benny in purgatory. Slicing and hacking his way through monsters to get Dean to Cas before they could escape. Dean's weird, twisted up, sickening feelings of - I love you because you know my secret. Because you know I love someone else even though I won't let my own self know. I love you because you have big hands and a big heart and an appetite for blood and because I can bully you into staying, searching, endlessly, for the one. The one I love the most. I love you until I find him and then I still love you a little because you helped make that possible and because you did it for me.

Bzzzt. Cas. Castiel who walked into a barn, sparks again (maybe men are electric and women are grounding, or - fuck, who knows, maybe sparks are just hot) a few days after Dean rose from the dead. Castiel who walked towards him with steady eyes of blue fire and withstood every act of violence Dean could commit against him (or so he thought). Castiel who saw into his soul, maybe not even into it, just the whole scope of it, macro and micro. Cas who shoved him into walls, laid hands over his mouth and a knee between his thighs (accidental?), Cas who spoke to him vulnerably one moment and then disappeared the next, Cas who stared into his eyes and made Dean's chest feel molten, his tongue feel heavy. Cas who wore a stupid trench coat, even when given a fresh start, an opportunity for reinvention. A trench coat Dean grew to hate because of the sheer amount of times he imagined pulling it gently off the angel's shoulders. It always stayed. Dean could burn that fucking coat.

He kept that coat. He carried it. He misses it.

Dean comes to in the middle of a fucking pride parade with the desperate, overwhelming urge to press a coat that he no longer has into his nose. He needs—

"Earth to fuckin' Dean Winchester," Claire is saying, eyebrow cocked kinda like Cas, which is weird because he doesn't remember Jimmy ever doing that. He guesses he didn't know Jimmy very long though. Maybe he's just seeing Cas wherever he can manage it.

"Sorry, kid," he says lamely. No follow up. He feels the hole and it aches and aches and he needs to get a hold on it before it engulfs him.

"Dean," Claire says gently, and she sounds like she knows where he is. Like she can find him back here among his grief that is so far removed from, and unrelated to the situation.

He looks at her and forces a grin that cracks his face. Painfully. Half rolls his eyes.

"C'mon kid, show me the ropes then," he says. He's here now. Probably wont ever be again, but he's with Claire.

And he loves Claire. Because she reminds him of his not so long ago self—young and angsty and passionate and angry and full of mistakes past, present and future—and because she reminds him of Cas. Her face, her independence, her stubbornness, her smile. Because Cas loves (loved, Christ) her, even if her feelings towards him might be more convoluted.

She doesn't let him off easy, a trait she kind of shares with both of them.

"Dean... I miss him too".

Years ago, maybe even just months ago, Dean would have rolled his eyes and changed the subject. He would have deflected: "so how do you get on one of those floats" or "why is there so much mesh here" or maybe mouthed the words to You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) right along with the drag queens in the parade without even realising it.

But now—

"Claire—I can't. Not if we wanna— not if today's gonna be any good."

His voice sounds far away and raw and he feels tears in his eyes even still. Even still after all these months. He wants. Wants Cas back so hard it scalds his insides.

Claire's mouth sets hard and she nods once. There's a grim-feeling cloud around the two of them, a black hole in the middle of this rainbow candy-land ass street block on a sunny day.

And then Claire scares it away. Physically waves it off like she can see it and then plasters a grin on her face that's almost conspiring. She can rally, Dean'll give her that. It's not as if Claire completely fits here either—she looks more like him than she does most of the other revelers. Black tank top, red flannel tied around her waist, black shit kickers. Hunter get-up. But she grabs some stickers from a drag queen that's handing them out and slaps one on her chest - it says "I support gay rights and gay wrongs" on it and the circle behind it is striped orange and white and pink. Dean snorts. He doesn't know for sure what that means but he guesses it's probably for lesbians cause he knows everybody gets their own flag in this world. He's learned that through osmosis at group*.

She grabs his hand and slaps another sticker on the back of it. The circle is blue, purple, and pink, and he does know the bi flag, has figured that one out at least. The words in the centre say "oh no, everyone is so hot".

Dean rolls his eyes so hard he almost throws his neck out. "There's no way in hell you think I'm keeping this on," he says.

"You are keeping it on, old man, and if i see you've taken it off I'll take you to the face painting tent and make them give you full bisexual glam." The threatening tone of her voice contrasts too deeply with the contents of that sentence and Dean huffs out a surprised laugh.

"Oh yeah? How do you think you're gonna make that happen?"

"You're not the only one packing here, Winchester."

Dean keeps the sticker on his hand. Stares at it for a minute, then looks all around him, taking in the colour and the joy like a thing that's not used the sun would. A rodent or a worm. Maybe a monster.

"Don't get me wrong but this doesn't really seem like your scene," he says.

Claire shrugs. "I dunno. Maybe a couple years ago I woulda felt the same. Used to think it was all real frivolous and silly y'know?"

She pauses for long enough that Dean's pretty sure the conversation's over. Finally, she speaks again, just a bit quieter: "But, I kinda figure, I can be more than just one thing, right? I can be a hunter and still enjoy some of the nice shit in life. Frivolous and silly is kinda fun."

She's not wrong. Dean doesn't get a lot of moments to be frivolous and silly, but he takes them when he can. Feels like maybe if he'd been born in an different universe he could've known those feelings full time like they were an engrained part of him rather than just fleeting visitors.

Then Claire says, "you're more than one thing, y'know. You're lots of things"

Dean huffs a little laugh and shakes his head, not really sure what he's denying.

"Don't make me give you a whole rundown on your own personality dude. You're not just some workhorse hunter, you got other stuff. Like, gay shit like this doesn't have to be one of your things. But everything's worth a shot once, right?"

He wants to agree. Thinks maybe he'd like to be a lot of things, but everything is kind of blur right now, has been for a while. What are the things he'd like to be? Like to enjoy?

He shakes his head again, not so much denying as delaying.

"Okay Oprah, what got you so wise?"

Claire smirks. She nudges him forward to follow the parade and says, "the internet mostly."

[hotchnerobsessed]

Think About You

This one was requested by @ssamorganhotchner 🥰

Based on “The Touching Yourself Song” by Noah Davis

Fem!Reader x Hotch | Being away from Aaron is never easy, but you always find ways of getting by.. sometimes with his help.

Warnings: 🥵+🤭 Smut [praise kink, slight choking kink, fem!masturbation, phone sex, mirror play, protected sex] with a few little moments of domestic life with Aaron sprinkled throughout.

Word Count: 8080

Masterlist

I think we can all agree that Aaron is an old fashioned kind of guy, so the pictures are Polaroids rather than digital photos 🫣

**********

“I've got a man, but he's always out of town.”

Being apart never got any easier. It didn’t matter if he was gone for a couple days, or a couple weeks, knowing you wouldn’t be falling asleep in his arms for an undetermined amount of time made your chest ache. Add to that the fact that he might get hurt, or worse, he might never come home, made it almost unbearable sometimes.

But you never held it against him. You knew what you’d signed up for when you’d agreed to spend the rest of your lives together. You accepted him for who he was, job and all. Truthfully, it’s what had drawn you to him in the first place, there was always an air of safety around him. You knew that no matter what happened, you would be okay as long as you had him by your side; your fierce protector.

As you sat at the empty dining room table, you’d hardly touched the meal you’d prepared for yourself. Jack was at a friend’s for the weekend, so you were on your own for two and a half days. You enjoyed your time alone as much as the next person, but when Aaron was gone, some nights were more difficult than others. The fork in your hand was mindlessly pushing food around your plate, before you finally set it down with a heavy sigh.

Glancing out the window, you stared at the beautiful sunset that filled the sky, and couldn’t help but wonder what the sky looked like wherever he was. That was the hardest part, the not knowing exactly where he was. It was always so vague, simply, “Alabama,” or, “Nebraska.”

As the brilliant colours reflected in the clouds began to fade, you found yourself fidgeting with the rings around your finger. Your mind instantly flooded with memories of your special day, saying “I do,” to your best friend, followed by cheers erupting from all of your loved ones.

It didn’t take long for your mind to wander even farther, to the end of the night, and everything that followed. The way he’d looked, kneeling in front of you, tux still in tact, as he pushed your dress up your legs. The smirk that crossed his face before he ducked his head under the material and connected his lips to your core still made a chill run down your spine. He’d stayed right there for even longer than he normally did, wanting to “make sure my wife is taken care of.”

You hadn’t noticed it at first, the way you’d mindlessly crossed your legs while you were still seated in that dining room chair, with your eyes still focused on the clouds, still spinning your rings around your finger. The slight rocking motion of your foot relieved some of the pressure that was beginning to build deep within you, but it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t long before the memory of him finally pulling himself out from under your wedding dress was front and centre; his hair was a complete mess, his chin glistened thanks to your multiple climaxes, and a huge grin was spread across his face. That was a sight you knew you would never forget; it had seared itself into the deepest parts of your mind.

“Feel like an addict, you come on my mind, all of a sudden I'm wetting through the sheets like aquafina.”

By now, you’d acknowledged the aching between your legs, and you wanted to get more comfortable. You quickly packaged up your untouched meal and stuck it in the fridge, before making your way to the bedroom. As you crossed the soft carpeted floor, losing articles of clothing along the way, you finally found yourself lying on your back in the middle of the bed.

You didn’t waste any time, sliding your hands along your body, cupping one of your breasts in one hand, while continuing farther down with the other. You weren’t surprised at all by just how wet you already were, it didn’t take much when Aaron was on your mind.

Your now slick fingers slid effortlessly along your folds, gently teasing yourself. It was a sad attempt at building up to your climax, even though you knew you were already teetering on the edge. You decided to just let yourself have this one, as you brought your fingers up to your sensitive bud.

The feeling was euphoric, as your eyes slipped closed and more memories began flashing through your mind. One in particular was of a time he’d informed you that he wanted to have you for breakfast, as his strong hands helped lift you onto the kitchen counter before he dropped to his knees in front of you. With every swipe of your fingers, you imagined his tongue on you, caressing you up and down, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure he could.

It was one look in particular that he always gave you that finally did you in; the way he would glance up at you, lips still attached to your clit, as he raised those strong eyebrows of his as if asking permission, before sliding two fingers inside you.

One last brush of your fingertips against your swollen bud had your body shaking. Your hips writhed against the sheets, a moan of his name escaping your lips, as your grip on your breast tightened. Your chest was still heaving, but you desperately wanted more.

“Using his pics when I'm missing his dick, I do it at night, with him on my mind.”

After allowing yourself some time to catch your breath, you slipped your legs over the side of the bed before kneeling on the floor and pulling open the very bottom drawer of your shared dresser. You’d both agreed to make it your special drawer, and you’d filled it with all of your lingerie, sex toys, and (just what you were looking for) a stack of Polaroid photos.

Glancing down at the tiny photos between your fingertips, you felt a warmth spread through your body as you recalled the passion of that night. You’d been digging through some old boxes in the garage when you found the camera, at which point you’d completely forgotten what you’d even been looking for in the first place. What started as an innocent, “look what I found!” quickly turned into him suggesting that he had, “an idea of what we could take pictures of..”

You flipped through the stack, everything from photos of you going down on each other, to photos of you riding him, and a close up of his large hand grasping your throat, to find one specific photo that seemed to have a death grip on your mind. You simply couldn’t help it, it was one you always kept going back to.

Taken from his point of view, looking down at you lying on your back, the very top of the frame showed your breasts cupped in your hands. The very bottom of the frame showed a glorious view of his stomach, with the centre of the photo capturing his cum painted flawlessly across your chest and stomach. Your bodies were impossibly close, your legs draped over his thighs, with his still hard length resting against your lower abdomen. You loved the photo because it showed off his size beautifully, with his tip reaching past your belly button.

“When I go solo I'm never by myself, we fuck in my mind when I can't have that dick in real life. It's like you never leave mе, it's all in my head, but I still feel that shit in my spine.”

Simply looking at the photo seemed to have a visceral affect on your body, as your thighs squeezed closer together. If you closed your eyes, you swore you could still feel just how deep he always reached. With your toes curling at the thought, you knew you needed to do something about the throbbing that had returned between your legs. Sliding the drawer shut, you made your way back to the bed, lying down and spreading your legs once more.

Your eyes scanned the photo, and you mimicked the way you were cupping your breasts in the photo with your free hand. Running your thumb across your nipple made your back arch, as your eyes slipped shut and you imagined it was his hands making you feel good.

As your fingers trailed farther down your body, you made a point of laying your hand flat against your lower abdomen, right where his cock had been in the photo. Your eyes flickered open momentarily, and your gaze lingered on his impressive length in the photo, as everything came rushing back.

“When I close my eyes, that muscle stay with me. That muscle memory.”

Moments before the photo was taken, you’d felt your entire body shudder, a wave of pleasure consuming your mind. You’d come to realize that it would never matter how many times you experienced it, the feeling of him deep inside you as an orgasm ripped through your body, it wasn’t something that would become seemingly mundane. As much as you craved a simple, domestic life with him, these moments, with both of your bodies connected, isn’t something you would ever take for granted.

With your eyes closed once again, you allowed your hand to travel between your thighs. You could still see the look of pleasure on his face clear as day as he wrapped his hand around his hard length. You could still hear the deep groans rumbling through his chest and escaping his lips as incoherent moans. As much as it turned you on, watching as he fucked his own fist and spilled his release across your body, it also made your heart swell in your chest. You could remember lying on your back in that moment, staring up at him and thinking to yourself how lucky you were to see him this vulnerable, this unravelled, this spent.

Reaching your hand even farther down, you slipped your fingers between your wet lips and into your heat. It wasn’t the same as his fingers, and nowhere near the same as his cock, but it would have to do for now. Carefully setting the photo on the bed beside you, you slid your other hand down to meet the other, and your fingers danced around your clit.

With a firm curling motion, you began massaging that glorious spot inside of you, all while rubbing tight circles against your swollen bud. Hitting the rewind button in your mind, you focused back on the moments leading up to your climax in that photo; the way he whispered encouragement in your ear, the way his pelvis rubbed perfectly against your clit, and the way his tip hit all the right spots inside you.

In no time at all, you felt your body crest the wave again, that same feeling of euphoria consuming your mind. With a few final strokes of your fingers, you’d reached your limit and pulled your hands away, letting yourself breathe through it. As your chest rose and fell, slowing with every deep breath in shaky breath out, you felt a calm settle itself deep within you. Even when Aaron wasn’t there with you, he was still more than capable of making you come undone in the best way.

Though your body still craved more, you craved him, you were more than happy to end the night there, and after cleaning yourself up, you simply curled up in bed. Wearing one of Aaron’s sweaters, breathing in the familiar scent of him, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The next morning, things hadn’t changed, you still wanted more. You wanted him there with you, touching you, inside you, his body weight pinning you against the mattress. Throughout the day, you did your best to ignore it, but by the time the evening rolled around, you couldn’t deny it any longer.

You’d finally finished your leftovers from the night before, when you decided you were going to text him; you just wanted him to know he was on your mind. Though you knew your chances of getting a response were slim, you were going to try anyway. He was more than likely wrapped up with something, but later at night like this was better than midday.

Reaching for your phone, you selected his name from the top of your screen and typed out a message. Most times you would have started by asking how his day had been, and how everyone was doing, but you were too focused on how empty your arms felt without him there to hold at night. You decided that a simple statement, getting straight to the point, would be best.

📲 I miss you so much.

Once you hit send, you locked your phone and set it on the table beside you. You weren’t expecting a reply any time soon, so you stood from the table and brought your dishes to the sink. Much to your surprise, seconds later you heard the chime of your phone.

📲 I miss you too, sweetheart. Are you alright?

You smiled softly to yourself; you should have known he’d be able to tell that something was off. Not wanting to waste his time, you decided once again that being honest was best.

📲 Just feeling a little more lonely than usual.. Call me when you have a few minutes?

On the other side of the phone, hundreds of miles away, Hotch stood in a room full of his colleagues, his eyebrows drawn together. He was attempting to push past the guilt he felt in that moment; he knew you understood the job, the life he chose, but something he didn’t always acknowledge was the fact that when he was away, he was surrounded by his team every day. Meanwhile, you were usually left alone, especially when Jack wasn’t around so you could be each other’s emotional support buddies.

While all this was running though his mind, most everyone else had dispersed, leaving him and Morgan alone in the room. “Hotch,” Derek had clocked the sudden change in his demeanour, “everything okay?” he asked gently, nodding towards the phone in Aaron’s hand.

“Yeah, I.. I think so..” he hesitated before tucking his phone back into his pocket, “it’s Y/N.” Pausing once more, sliding a few papers into his briefcase before finally looking up at the man across the room, “why don’t you all take a quick break, you should get something to eat. We’ll meet back here in 15.” If you’d been there in person, he knew you would have said something about the fact that he should be eating, too. But right now all he cared about was making sure you were okay.

Derek simply nodded and turned to leave the conference room they’d set up in, before wrangling the rest of the team for a quick meal. Not wanting to disturb anyone, or have your call interrupted, Aaron made his way out of the room as well. It wasn’t long before he was climbing into the front seat of one of the black SUVs and dialling your number.

It had been only 3, maybe 4 minutes since you’d sent your last message when you heard your phone ring, his name lighting up the screen. You were quick to answer, “hi!” the relief in your voice evident.

A soft smile creased the corners of his eyes; he couldn’t deny how good it felt to hear your voice. “Hi sweetheart, everything okay?”

Your laugh was soft, as his soothing tone crept right through the phone and calmed every anxiety in your mind, “I think I just needed to hear your voice..”

His smile grew even wider, knowing he had the same affect on you. “Well I’m here now, alright? I’m right here,” his voice was low and comforting, “tell me about your day.”

A flustered smile graced your lips, it was the tiny moments like this that made you fall even deeper in love with him every day. As you filled him in on what you’d been up to that day, he absorbed it all; you were the sliver of light shining through the darkness of his day. If it was up to him, he’d sit right in that spot and keep you on the phone for the rest of the evening.

“Good, that’s good.” You could hear the smile on his face clear as day. “And how’s Jack?”

“Oh he’s doing great. I spoke to him this morning. He’s always happy to spend time with the puppy over at their house..”

As Aaron laughed, you couldn’t help but laugh right along with him. This had been a discussion between the three of you for quite some time now, and he was finally starting to come around. “I bet he’s having the time of his life,” he teased.

“It sure sounded like it,” you added playfully.

“So baby don't worry, I'm going to be fine. Touching myself in the night, while I’ve got you on my mind.”

There was a short pause before he spoke again, “and you? What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

Your sigh was barely audible, but he could feel it in his chest, too. “I just.. miss you..”

His sigh matched yours, “I know, sweetheart, I miss you too. I’m sorry you were on your own all weekend.”

Shaking your head in an attempt to move past the longing you felt for him, you simply stated, “it’s okay, I’m okay. But I can’t wait for you to come home.”

He smiled quietly to himself, “I’ll be home before you know it.” He was trying to make you feel better, and you loved him for it, but both of you knew there was just no telling how long he’d be gone.

“Promise?” you whispered.

“Promise.” He smirked before continuing, “but until then.. are you..” he hesitated, heat rising in his cheeks before he even said the words out loud, “is my girl taking care of herself?”

You exhaled hard, his words catching you completely by surprise. It was almost as if he knew that’s why you’d texted in the first place, and he’d figured you were too reluctant to say anything. “I’m.. yes..” you admitted softly.

He chuckled, the arousal in your voice clear already. He just couldn’t help himself, “good girl.”

A deep groan formed in your throat, “oh Aaron.. I miss you so much..”

“I miss you too, sweetheart.. fuck, I wish I was there right now..” he admitted, that low voice of his gripping your chest.

“Yeah?” Your voice was shaky.

“Yes..” A stark contrast to the uneven tone of your voice, his was firm and unwavering. He knew he couldn’t get himself too worked up right now, not when he had to return to work in a mere 9 minutes. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t give you what you needed. “I wish I was there so I could kiss your neck, my hands on your back, pulling you close.”

You hummed contentedly, sensations slowly beginning to grow deep within you. As much as you wanted this, you knew he was at work, and you didn’t want to be a burden. “Where.. where are you right now?” you asked between deep breaths, “we can’t do this.. you’re working..”

“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart,” he cooed.

You tried your best to get your mind past the fact that he was technically on the clock right now, “but..”

He cut you off, “you trust me, right? Just let me take care of you.”

Another deep breath escaped your lungs, “okay..”

“Okay,” he repeated through a smile, before inquiring, “are you in our bedroom?”

You simply shook your head at first, momentarily forgetting that he couldn’t actually see that response. You finally replied, “the couch..” When you’d heard the phone ringing, you’d picked it up and quickly made your way to the living room, getting comfortable in your favourite spot on the couch.

“I think we can work with that.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and you exhaled deep once more. “Lay back,” he could hear a faint shuffling over the phone, “and spread your legs for me.”

“Okay..” you moaned.

“You know I was thinking about you last night, it’s not the same without you here. But I'll be okay until you get home, beause I love the way you love me from afar.”

“That’s my good girl.” The smooth velvety tone of his voice sent chills down your spine. “When’s the last time you made yourself cum?” He wanted to hear all about it.

“Last night..” you confessed.

He smiled again, “ohhh, such a needy girl.”

“I couldn’t help it,” you whined, your hand finding it’s way between your legs, “I was thinking about you.”

Your words made pride well in his chest; even though he wasn’t there with you, he was still able to make you feel good. And he was going to prove that once more. “Oh yeah? And what was I doing?”

You moaned, “I was.. looking at that photo..”

That was as descriptive as your mind would allow you to be in that moment, but he still knew exactly what photo you were talking about. “Ahh yes.. You always look so pretty with my cum all over you.”

“Fuck..” You were already breathless, as the circles you were rubbing against your throbbing clit began increasing in speed.

He grinned once more, taking a moment to be silent and listen to the sounds of your heavy breathing; he wished he could be there with you so bad. “Put me on speaker, sweetheart.” Without hesitation, you had it switched to speaker phone and was resting it carefully on your chest.

“Diffеrent time zones, but he's still inside me. I’m never alone when I touch myself.”

Seconds later he spoke again, “you’re already touching yourself, aren’t you?”

Once again, you simply nodded, before admitting softly, “yes..”

“Good girl,” he smirked, “now I want you to use your other hand, and slide two fingers inside that beautiful pussy.”

“Okay..” you whined.

He was fighting as hard as he could to stay calm, and not let the arousal rushing through his veins get the better of him. Clearing his throat, he pushed through the tightness that gripped his chest.

“Oh fuck.. it feels so good..” Your voice was strained, and you unintentionally held your breath at the feeling.

“Imagine it’s my fingers, sweet girl, my cock, moving in and out of you, making you feel good.” He still spoke with that deep commanding voice, calm as ever.

“Always..” you admitted, “it’s always you.” It wasn’t long before you felt the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten. “Aaron I’m.. I’m going to cum..” you whined.

“Yeah, that’s it..” he sighed, “be a good girl and cum for me.”

His words of encouragement were all you needed, as your breath caught in your throat and you felt your body crest that wave. With a few shaky strokes of your fingers, you finally pulled them away and exhaled deep. With your chest rising and falling, your breathing heavy, you couldn’t form a single thought. You simply closed your eyes and allowed yourself to revel in the way your body immediately relaxed.

“That’s my girl.” He knew by the way your breathing hitched, and the sigh that rang in his ear, that you’d reached your climax; he’d heard that same rhythm of your body countless times before.

“I love you,” you laughed lightly, nothing but pure bliss clouding your mind. “Fuck, I love you so much.” You could hear his laugh over the phone, and a calm washed over you. Even when you weren’t together, your minds and bodies were still connected.

“I love you, too.” Glancing down at his watch, 3 minutes to go, he cleared his throat once more, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I have to get back to work. You’ll be okay until I get home?”

Still slightly out of breath, you spoke quietly, “I’ll be okay.”

“Good,” he smiled once more, “now get some rest. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you sighed, “goodnight, Aaron.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” And with that, he finally hung up the phone, a smile lingering on his lips. With a deep breath in, he assessed himself, and after clearing his throat once more he was opening the door of the SUV and heading back into the building.

The second the door closed behind him, Morgan was at his side, “everything okay with Y/N?”

Hotch gave him a soft nod, “yes, nothing serious.”

Derek narrowed his eyes, unsure of what he was trying to hide, “you sure? You look a little flushed there boss man.”

Giving Morgan the side eye, he fought to keep the heat in his chest from rising any more, “Y/N is fine. Jack is fine.”

Derek opened his mouth to say something, trying to get enough of a reaction out of him so he could read him better, but Hotch cut him off, “Morgan?”

“Yeah?” He responded not-so-innocently.

“Drop it.” Hotch’s tone was firm but not angry, and Derek knew not to push it any farther. Simply throwing his hands up to indicate he understood, the two of them made their way back to the conference room to pick up where they’d left off.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It was another 6 days before he’d finally told you he was on his way home to you and Jack, and the joy you both felt was palpable. When you got the call that they’d landed and he was on the way home, you both got everything ready.

A short 15 minutes later, you heard him pulling into the driveway and Jack started jumping up and down with excitement. “Okay buddy, grab your sign, quick!!” You’d helped him as he spent hours working on a sign that had ‘Welcome Home Daddy!!’ written in large print, decorated with stickers and glitter glue. At the bottom, right in the middle, were three stick figures, all labelled as ‘Mommy’, ‘Daddy’, and ‘me’, standing side by side holding hands.. with a puppy drawn beside them.

When you both heard his keys in the door, Jack stood right where you’d rehearsed, a firm grip on both sides of his sign. But that didn’t last long, because the second the front door was open, he was tossing the sign to the side and yelling, “Daddy!!” before bounding across the room towards Aaron.

Dropping everything where he stood, Aaron crouched down and spread his arms open to Jack, “hey little man! I’ve missed you! I love you so much!”

Jack giggled, “I love you, too, Daddy!”

As Jack filled him in on everything he’d missed over the last week and a half, you bent down and picked up the sign that had been tossed aside, knowing he’d want it back soon enough. You smiled softly to yourself, a warmth consuming you as you watched your favourite boys deep in conversation with each other. Every now and then, Aaron would look up at you, a smile creasing his eyes, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Jack ended his excited rant with, “and then we made you a sign!..” he paused, “oh yeah! My sign!”

You and Aaron both laughed as you handed it to Jack and he turned to hold it up for Aaron to see. As his eyes skimmed over the lettering and he took it all in, he couldn’t help but smile at it all; yes, even at the little doodle of the puppy. “You made this just for me?!” Jack nodded his head furiously, and you heart swelled again as Aaron pulled him into another hug. “Thank you so much! I love it.”

“Mommy helped, too!” he beamed.

“Did she?” Aaron smiled up at you before looking back down at Jack, “well I guess I should probably thank her, too, don’t you think?”

Jack was nodding excitedly once again, as Aaron stood and made his way over to you. As he reached out, you eagerly wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him close; the relief you felt in finally being able to hold him again was indescribable. As you rested your cheek against his chest, he held you tight with one hand on your lower back, the other carding through your hair gently.

Placing a tender kiss against the top of your head, he whispered a soft, “thank you,” against your hair, before dropping his head beside yours and sighing against your ear, “I love you.”

Catching him completely by surprise, you whispered quietly in his ear, “you can thank me later..” before you pulled back from his embrace nonchalantly, gazing up at him, “I love you, too, Aaron. Welcome home.”

A slight blush rose in his cheeks, and you smiled internally at how his pupils dilated. He just couldn’t help himself, as he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss to your lips. That’s when you both heard Jack immediately speak up with a playful, “ewwww gross!”

Laughing against his lips, you gave him one final peck before you both looked over and Jack. With both of you reaching an arm out to him, he raced towards you and wrapped each of his arms around your legs.

All three of you spent the evening curled up on the couch, enjoying snacks, and watching a movie of Jack’s choosing. He’d picked it out a few days earlier and had been dying for his dad to come home so you could all watch it together. It wasn’t long before you were listening to Aaron read Jack a bedtime story, before putting him to bed.

Before you knew it, you and Aaron were finally alone in your bedroom. Things started out rather innocent, with a few passionate kisses being shared as you both finished your night time routines. That’s how you’d found yourself here, standing in front of your dresser, a full length mirror just off to the side, as you took your earrings out and placed them on your jewelry tray.

Glancing to the side, you saw him in nothing but his boxers, the exhaustion on his face clear as day. You immediately felt a pang of regret at your suggestive comment about thanking you later. Even though you desperately wanted him, needed him, maybe he didn’t have it in him tonight. Truth be told, you were okay with simply curling up in bed together if he needed his rest.

As he took in the glorious sight of you in your favourite sleep set, he slowly made his way behind you. Gently grasping your hips, he placed a tender kiss against the back of your head. “I missed you so much.”

You melted into his touch, immediately resting your head back against his shoulder, “I missed you, too.”

He didn’t hesitate, dropping his head beside yours and placing tender kisses against the soft skin of your neck. You lifted a hand to caress the side of his face, before reaching farther and running your fingers through his hair. It wasn’t long before his kisses got more feverish, and his hands wrapped farther around your body.

“I can't wait for the way he puts it down. He’s so profound, the way he gets me going.”

“Aaron..” you whimpered, and he simply hummed in response. “We don’t have to tonight, if you don’t want to..” his large palms ran along the outside of your tank top. “You just got home.. if you need your sleep that’s okay.”

He brought his hands up to cup your breasts through the thin material. “No.. what I need is my wife.”

A soft moan escaped your lips, and you could feel him smile against your neck. “Okay,” you sighed.

As your body relaxed, you found yourself slowly moving your hips, grinding your backside against him, eliciting a groan from him. Seconds later he was shuffling to the side, and encouraging you to follow suit, until you were both standing in front of the full length mirror.

“The only thing that’s kept me sane this past week is knowing I was one step closer to coming home to you.” A deep sigh escaped your lips at his confession. He never talked about work, at least not in detail. You could only imagine the horrors he had to face on a daily basis. If he wanted to unwind, and needed you to help him do so, who were you to complain?

His cheek was now resting against the side of your head, as you both gazed at each other in the mirror. You used this opportunity to reassure him, “I’m right here,” as you placed your hands overtop of his that were still cupping your breasts, and squeezed gently. The smile that spread across his face made your heart flutter.

With one of his hands staying put, he slowly trailed his other palm down your body. You reached both of your hands behind you and pulled his hips even closer to yours, and could feel his excitement against your backside. He dropped his hand even farther and began massaging your core through your shorts. Releasing the air from your lungs slowly, your eyes drifted shut as you took in the feeling of finally having his hands on you once again.

It wasn’t long before he was sliding one foot between yours, hooking the inside of your ankle and pulling your legs apart for him. Almost simultaneously, he slipped his hand under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, gently running his fingertips along your folds. “You’re already so wet, sweetheart.”

Smiling, you hummed softly as you finally opened your eyes, “I told you I missed you.” The lust in his eyes was evident, as he finally made direct contact with your clit, causing you to gasp. Your breathing grew heavier and heavier by the second, and you found yourself unable to keep your eyes open yet again.

His eyes trailed across your body; the way your back arched, pushing your ass even closer to him, the way your hands grasped each of his arms, your fingertips digging into his flesh, and the way your head tipped back and your mouth dropped open in pleasure. He could watch you all day. You were gorgeous. You were sexy. You were captivating. To him, you were the definition of perfection.

Placing more kisses along your neck, he whispered against your skin, “open your eyes. Look how stunning you are.”

You responded immediately, lifting your heavy lids to trail your eyes along your body the way he had moments earlier. You however, were more focused on him; the way his hand moved effortlessly beneath the material, the muscles in his arm on display with every movement, and the way his chin rested perfectly on your shoulder, as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

“Feels.. so good..” you mumbled.

“Yeah?” he cooed, and you nodded enthusiastically, simply humming in response. “Does my girl want more?”

“Fuck.. please..” you moaned.

The smirk on his face was almost enough to do you in, as he reached his hand even farther down and slipped two fingers inside you with ease. The gasp that escaped your lips caused that smirk of his to spread even farther across his face, as you melted under his touch.

With a curling motion of his fingers, the palm of his hand resting right against your swollen bud, he started working you closer and closer to the edge. Grabbing hold of his hand that was still on your breasts, you slowly moved it farther up. He took the hint enthusiastically, as he carefully gripped your throat in his large hand, both of you revelling in the possessive feel of it; you were his and his alone.

“I can feel you, sweetheart,” he hummed against the side of your head, “you’re close aren’t you?”

“Yes.. fuck..” you moaned, “don’t stop.. you’re going to make me cum.”

His smile grew, as he continued with those same movements of his fingers deep within you, and before you knew it, you felt your body shiver as pleasure washed over you. Your knees shook, and your hips writhed under his touch, grinding your body into his once more. He could tell when enough was enough, because your whole body shuddered and a sharp exhale graced your lips.

“That’s my good girl.” Carefully pulling his fingers out from the material, he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close, giving you all the support you needed as your body recovered. “Such a good girl.” He trailed tender kisses along the side of your neck, and across the top of your shoulder.

“I've got a man, but he's always out of town, I don't mind tho 'cause the pipe be good as fuck when he comes home.”

Opening your eyes slowly, your heart swelled as you watched him peppering your skin with gentle kisses. After soaking it all in for a little longer, you finally turned around in his embrace and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his lips to yours passionately. As his skillful tongue slipped past your lips, you let out a gentle groan, with one of your hands finding it’s way into his hair.

Your other hand slowly trailed down the front of his body, your palm brushing against the exposed skin of his chest, before slipping under the waistband of his boxers and wrapping your fingers around his hard length. He exhaled deep against your lips, pulling away slightly to rest his forehead against yours, getting lost in the feeling of your hand finally around him again.

With a slow up and down movement, you took pleasure in the soft grunts that filled your ears, causing the aching between your legs to build once more. “I need you inside me..” your voice was desperate.

He didn’t hesitate, gently grasping your wrist and pulling your hand off him. Breaking away from you, he swiftly made sure the handle on the bedroom door was locked; if Jack got out of bed, you both wanted to avoid the situation you’d been in a few months back when he’d almost walked in on you two. Thankfully Aaron’s spider-like senses had picked up on the tiny footsteps making their way down the hallway before it was too late.

When he turned back around, he saw you already sitting with your legs crossed in the middle of the bed, condom in hand, as you slowly tore the package open. He couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips, soon spreading across his entire face, the love he felt for you was indescribable. Discarding his boxers, he finally climbed onto the bed with you, sitting back on his heels.

His length stood at attention, as you tossed the foil to the side, before reaching forward and placing the condom on his tip, rolling it down his length. You purposefully took your time, gazing up at him and grinning proudly at the way his head tipped back and his jaw clenched. With your fingers still wrapped around him, you began moving your hand up and down once more, as you shifted so you were also kneeling.

His hands immediately found their way to your hips, as you began placing tender kisses across his chest from one shoulder to the other. You stroked his length a few more times before letting go, as you reached for the hem of your tank top and pulled it over your head. The second it was out of the way, his palms were sliding along your body, until he was cupping your breasts, twirling your nipples gently between his fingers. Your back arched, as you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your shorts and underwear, shuffling on your knees to allow yourself to pull them off.

Tossing them to the side, both of you now completely exposed to one another, your lips connected passionately. Slipping one hand around your back, he leaned forward and encouraged you to relax against the mattress. You eagerly accepted his assistance, laying back and wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly close.

Placing one final kiss against your lips, he reached one hand down between your bodies, running his length through your wet folds. You both shivered at the feeling, knowing you’d both been starved and longing for this contact between you for too long. He looked back into your eyes, and you knew he was asking permission, as you nodded your head gently and he finally pushed his hips forward, filling you in a matter of seconds.

A low and breathy, “fuck,” escaped his lips, causing you to exhale deep, your body relaxing completely. He dropped his head beside yours, trailing sloppy kisses along your neck, as he began rocking his hips back and forth. The feeling was euphoric, the weight of his body on yours, his hot breath on your neck, and his pelvis rubbing perfectly against your clit.

The next thing you knew, he was hooking his arms under your legs effortlessly, pressing your knees against your chest, with your ankles over his shoulders. You gazed up at him, and with your eyes locked on his, he slowly bottomed out once more. Your breath escaped your lungs completely, as you whimpered, “Aaron..” and your eyes squeezed shut; the pleasure overwhelmed you.

This had quickly become one of your favourite positions. With you this spread open for him, both of you found yourselves unable to contain just how extraordinary it felt, and how deep he reached. You whimpered once again, as he slowly began moving in and out, and inch at a time.

“Fuck I missed you..” he breathed out heavy, one of his hands cupping the side of your face, “you feel so damn good..” With each long pull of his length out of your tight walls, he ran his thumb lovingly across your face.

Your eyes slowly opened, and you were met with the most beautiful sight, his face only inches away from yours, his eyebrows drawn together in ecstasy. It wasn’t long before he was also gazing down at you, gauging your reaction as he began picking up speed. The faster he moved, the closer your body got to reaching that peak. “Oh shit, oh fuck, you’re so deep.. Aaron, I can feel you everywhere..”

Your words caused a grin to spread across his face, one that completely captivated you, setting your nerve endings on fire. As your body began reacting to the overwhelming sensations, he could feel your walls clenching around him, “yeah, there you go. That’s my girl.” Your eyes flickered shut, as you focused on the feeling consuming your senses, peppered with his words of praise ringing in your ears. “Are you going to be a good girl cum for me, sweetheart?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear you say it.

Nodding your head feverishly, a strangled, “yes.. fuck.. please don’t stop..”

Another smile pulled at the corners of his lips, clearly pleased with your answer. He took instruction well, not stopping until you’d had more than enough. You’d hardly had the chance to breath out a few strangled words, “I’m.. I’m going to cum..” when the dam finally broke. You felt a blissful fog cloud your mind, as he continued with the long drags of his hard length in and out of your now throbbing walls.

As he spoke, “good girl, you’re squeezing me so tight," your breathing caught in your throat. He still hadn’t stopped, wanting to draw out every ounce of pleasure he could for you. But when you’d finally reached the point of enough, you grasped his hips and pulled his body close to yours, holding him still.

Your legs trembled on either side of his head, as your lips parted and your eyes flickered shut. Breathing deep, you allowed yourself to simply enjoy how it felt finally being intimate with your husband, the love of your life, your person, once again. It didn’t matter how many times you felt him this close to you, you never took it for granted.

Slowly opening your eyes, you were greeted with a warm smile from him, as he placed tender kisses against the inside of your knee. His hand ran along your thigh, softly caressing your skin, eventually he looked back at you and spoke softly, “you’re okay, sweetheart?”

Your heart swelled, because as much as he was checking in on you, he was simultaneously asking if you were ready for more. With a deep exhale, you admitted, “yes.. more, please..”

He couldn’t help but smile at your eagerness, as he placed a gentle kiss to your forehead before finally moving his hips again. With every long stroke of his hard length between your walls, you felt his tip reaching the deepest parts of you, over and over and over again. Before you knew what hit you, that telltale sensation was back, and you felt the tension in your body snap.

After giving your body some time to recover, he did as he had minutes earlier, and asked if you still had more in you, to which you eagerly confirmed you did. As he began rocking his hips back and forth, every thrust pushed you closer and closer to the brink. And in a matter of seconds, he had you coming undone around him once more.

“Fuuuuuck, Aaron,” you whimpered, utterly breathless as your fourth orgasm gripped your body.

With those same tender kisses being placed against the inside of your knee, he caressed the side of your face as you came down from your high. “Shhhh, shh shh, there you go,” he cooed, “such a good girl. My good girl.”

As you let out another deep exhale, you smiled up at him blissfully, your eyelids heavy under the weight of the pleasure still coursing through your veins. You mumbled, “can you.. I want you to hold me..”

He brushed a few stray hairs out of your face, and spoke through a gentle smile, “okay.” Carefully pulling out of you, he helped you rest your legs against the mattress, before you rolled onto your side.

Adjusting himself, he found his way behind you, as he tucked one arm under you, and wrapping it around the front of your body. Using his free hand, he grabbed hold of himself and carefully searched for your entrance, before slowly pushing himself inside you once more. The quiet moan that escaped your lips brought a smile to his face, as he finally bottomed out. Placing a loving kiss against your shoulder, he grasped your hip, his fingertips digging into your soft skin, and began moving his hips against yours.

Nothing quite compared to feeling him inside you like this; the same way you curled up in bed together most nights, his tall frame encompassing you from behind, only now you were on the brink of yet another orgasm. Wrapping your arms around yourself, overtop of his arm, you slid one hand along the back of his, tucking your fingers between his, and squeezing tight.

It wasn’t long before he felt his body reaching the point of release, but he just needed you to get there one more time. Sliding his hand from your hip, around the front of your body, he nuzzled his fingers between your legs and began rubbing circles against your clit.

With his warm breath on your neck, his words of encouragement in your ear, you finally felt your body reaching the tipping point. “Ohhh yeah, just like that..” you moaned, “Aaron, you’re going to make me cum again.”

You could hear the smile in his voice, “good girl,” as he placed another kiss against your shoulder, “I’m close, too. Cum for me sweetheart.”

That was all it took, as your body summited that peak for the fifth time. With your legs shaking, and your body squeezing him tight, he held you even closer. With a few final shaky thrusts, he rested his forehead against the back of your head, and soft grunts filled your ears as he spilled himself inside the condom.

As you both caught your breath, he placed more tender kisses across your back, and against the side of your neck. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

You smiled softly, wrapping your arms even tighter around yourself, “I love you more.”

You heard a soft laugh from him, as he placed one more kiss against the back of your head, and slowly pulled himself out of you. You didn’t waste any time, rolling over to face him, and capturing his lips with your passionately. He responded just as eagerly, his tongue skillfully slipping past your lips, causing a soft groan to rumble in your chest.

Finally breaking away from the kiss, he asked through a cheeky smile, “was that a sufficient thank you?”

Letting out an airy laugh, you shook your head teasingly,“I guess it’ll have to do,” before pressing your lips to his once more. You could feel his smile against your lips, and you spoke softly once more, “I’m so happy you’re home.”

Brushing a few stray hairs out of your face, he cupped your cheek in his warm palm and kissed your nose gently, “I know, sweetheart,” another soft peck against your lips, “I am too.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tag List: @ssamorganhotchner ; @ccristata ; @anlin2058 ; @sannunah28 ; @hotchgirlsummer ; @mesnyder ; @red-red-rogue ; @chibsytelford ; @hannahufflepuff

[wonuwrites]

Ok my friend I thought of some options for another song reaction:

Smut - Levii's Jeans by Beyonce

Romance - Love Me Anyway by Chappell Roan

Angst (big BIG angst) - A House in Nebraska by Ethel Cain

I hope you like one of these!

Oooo~ I will check these out but def write them for you! I decided to breakup "Love Me Anyway" into units so this will be order so you know <3 According to randomizer I will be doing them in these order

Love Me Anyway (Vocal Unit) *You are here*

Love Me Anyway (Performance Unit)

A House In Nebraska (ps this song devastated me and I'm SO fucking excited for this one)

Love Me Anyway (Hip Hop Unit)

Levii's Jeans

I'll tag them in this when they are ready but hey let's get into the Vocal Unit's Love Me Anyway <3

ღ vocal unit || performance unit || hip hop unit

Just like my other song reactions, the order of the people in the drabbles will be in order of the song lyrics of the song <3. (btw this is my new favorite song so thank you anon i love you.)

Warnings: nothing really, might have some cursing but it's just gonna be pretty fluffy :) Some body confidence issues in Jeonghan's btw

ღ Joshua: "I love you because you have those Polaroids of me inside your nightstand."

You had decided it was time to do some spring cleaning. You had put your hair up and was straightening some things up in your room. You found some of Jisoo's jewelry and decided to put them in his nightstand. That's when you discovered a polaroid book you never saw before. Impulsively, you grabbed the book and saw that there were a bunch of random Polaroids showing you and moments in your relationship. Your heart started to swell as each memory came flooding back as you touched each picture. It made you love him even more. Little did you know, Jisoo had gotten home a bit earlier and was leaning against your bedroom door frame watching you relive the memories. He couldn't help but feel a bit anxious because that was supposed to be your anniversary gift that was a month away but he also loved how happy you looked looking at them. He felt very similar actually. It was at that moment when you looked up at him and couldn't stop smiling, "baby, how long have you had these?!" "Awhile," was all he could say while he looked at you which made you blush. You looked back at the photobook and just felt so touched to be able to go through memories like this.

ღ Jeonghan: "And I love you because you're understanding when I'm too shy to show my skin."

Jeonghan's love language toward you was teasing for most part. However, there were times when he knew that you needed a little TLC aka tender love and care. Those times came when you were struggling with the way you looked and a bit self conscious about showing skin. He would know you were struggling with negative thoughts pretty quickly. If you were in a sundress that was a bit shorter and you kept trying to pull it down in the back, he would casually stand behind you so nobody could look. When you were sitting, he would hand you his jacket with a soft smile so you could put it over your thighs. He hated that you had these thoughts but he knew you were working on them. He learned pretty quickly compliments would do nothing but these actions he did always made you snuggle up to his side and he'd feel like the luckiest son of a bitch ever. <3

ღ Woozi: "And I love you because you lead me back to bed when I wander in my sleep."

Jihoon found out about your sleepwalking ways literally the first night you both had a sleepover. He thought you got up to go to the bathroom and when you took awhile to come back, he went to go investigate because well... he missed you. When he saw you 'staring' at your house plant and telling it that 'you didn't need ketchup' he put two and two together. He found it precious and didn't want you to be embarrassed about it so he never made it a big deal. Whenever you would sleepwalk, he would simply just lead you back to the bedroom. He would fall into whatever you were talking about. If you were ever embarrassed by it in the morning, he would quickly shut it down and say "it happens babe, don't worry about it." When you would say "no it's not normal," he would just wrap you in his arms and kiss you. He literally had no issue with helping you when you slept walked and helping you was normal for him. It was the least he could do.

ღ Dokyeom: "Autumn came and December went. Turned you down at your high school dance. You la-love me anyway."

You were sitting next to your newly wed husband, Lee Seokmin, as members of Seventeen and both of your family members came up to share stories about y'all and your relationship. You've known each other for ten years but had been dating/engaged for the last three. That's why when Mingyu who went to high school with you both came up he couldn't help but laugh before starting his story. "When Seokmin first told me he had a crush on (Y/N), we were getting ready for a school dance." This made Seokmin blush and hide his face while you started to laugh. This bit of lore from your relationship was embarrassing for you both however it was funny to see where you both ended up being. You see, Seokmin used to be even more shier then he was now and you were just super self conscious. It was the second to last slow dance and he came up to ask you to dance. You just shook your head and ran away leaving him in the dust confused. You just didn't think someone that was as attractive as him would ever be genuine. Even though it mortified him at the time, he still ended up marrying you and neither of you could ask for a more perfect ending. <3

ღ Seungkwan: "When I met you at summer camp, I would never give you a chance. You still la-love me anyway."

When you were younger, the more red flags a man had, the better. That's why Seungkwan was not on your radar when you both were camp counselors. He was kind to the attendees and everyone. He always flashed you a smile because well he was down bad first glance but to you he could be nothing but a friend. It wasn't until years after you both met and had been friends until you realized it had always been him. You both had been sitting on a blanket watching the stars when his hand just grabbed yours. You looked over at him confused but the look on his face was nervous. He always had a confident aura around him but tonight he was nervous. This was a new side of Seungkwan and it made you nervous as well. "(Y/N), I love you. I've loved you since day one. Can you please give me a chance now?" The question made you blush like crazy before you nodded. "I should've given you a chance years ago, Seungkwan. I love you too."

Hopefully this was good <3 Stream Love Me Anyway bc it's so cute :) (Performance Unit's should be up later today or tomorrow <3)

[hedgiwithapen]

Stargirl: Fighting villains is easy. Fighting a once in a century storm is not.

As Chuck points out in bright green letters across Beth’s vision, the lightning that keeps striking the clocktower isn’t the problem. It’s the rain, trying to go one direction: down. And there’s certainly a down to go to. She knows Nebraska isn’t the flattest state, or even in the top 10. It’s only 36 percent flatland, but that’s not actually a good thing, here, with the torrent coming down directly over the town. Blue Valley sits on a web of tunnels. Usually the threat the tunnels pose is being full of supervillains, but this time he’s in the sky, flying under his own power. This time, the issue is the flood she knows is coming. 

She can just make out, with Chuck's help, the Light of Courtney's staff through the downpour, and she doesn't need Chuck to tell her this isn't normal rain. He tells her anyways. What Mark Mardon, once known as the Weather Wizard, wants with Blue Valley is unknown, but his intentions don't matter as much as his actions.

She pulls her cape tighter around her shoulders, trying to tent the hood a little better.

"He's near the Antique shop," she says, as the goggles calculate. The tunnels under Blue Valley can't drain fast enough. The fields right on the outskirts are already sodden, the crops hardly salvageable. As threats go, it's not the country or the world, like Fighting Eclipso or Icicle. But it's home. 

"I've got it," says Rick over the coms, and the goggles have to pick him out, the bright yellow of his cloak lining lost in the sheet of gray rain. Beth fights the irrational thought that if she takes a step out from the gazebo, she might drown instantly, watching.

The lightning defies itself, striking lower, and lower again, pebbles of hail joining the rain, and Beth hates this worst of all. 

It's one thing watching her friends take on villains when she can't. It's another to just listen.  The thunder rolls, echoing over the flat plains like it'll go on forever. 

"Hey! Drizzle dude!" Rick calls. Beth hears the punch land, over the coms, the grunt of effort and the grunt of pain. She knows by now, which of those belongs to the enemy and which to her friend.  Her relief is short lived as the white lightning strikes at the damp streets.

She's safe, in the gazebo, in her yellow rubber rainboots. No one else is. 

The constant thunder covers the sound of her scream as a bolt of Magenta lightning races to meet the white before it can hit. She can't tell if it wins.

[angelx1992]

[jadeseadragon]

Ziŋtkála Núni, a.k.a. "Lost Bird"

(Indigenous Lakota, born 1890 at Pine Ridge Reservation, Wounded Knee, SD, died 1920, Hanford, CA)

---

"In late 1890, Leonard Colby, as commander of the Nebraska National Guard, fought at Wounded Knee in South Dakota in a massacre that killed an estimated 170 to 300 Lakota men, women and children.

Four days later, a rescue party found a Lakota baby, partially frozen but still alive, strapped to her [bullet-riddled] dead mother’s back under a covering of snow.

Without his wife’s knowledge or consent, Colby brought the baby back to Nebraska. The child became known as Ziŋtkála Núni, or Lost Bird.

The story is recounted in the 1995 book “Lost Bird of Wounded Knee” by Renee Sansom Flood and in a 1999 documentary with the same title by South Dakota Public Broadcasting.

The book alleges that Leonard Colby, a prominent attorney, sexually abused his adopted daughter and exploited her as a "mascot" for his law firm." [source]

---

Lost Bird was "adopted" by the Colbys over the objections of her surviving Lakota family.

---

[She] "was given four different names, baptized, stolen from tribal members, retrieved, and stolen again until she was officially adopted by Brigadier General Leonard Colby, Commander of the Nebraska Guard, who had simply taken her off the reservation to his home in Beatrice, Nebraska. ... [she] was only 29 when she fell victim to the Spanish Flu, which in 1919 killed over 500,000 Americans. She was buried where she lived, in Hanford, California." [source]

---

"A century after the infant was discovered alive, lying beneath her mother’s body on the killing fields of Wounded Knee, her remains have been brought home. In a traditional ceremony, Lost Bird was interred [in 1991] near the mass grave where 200 slain Native Americans, including her mother, were unceremoniously buried Jan. 3, 1891." [source]

I won't go into the full story of Lost Bird's life. It is far too sad. You can find out more about her on the links included.

Memorial Tattoo link

The Tragedy of ‘Lost Bird’

[scholarofgloom]

[mariacallous]

Minnesota Governor Tim Walz’s elevation to the national stage as running mate for Vice President Kamala Harris has suddenly put him in the spotlight. Walz had a low national profile until a successful behind-the-scenes strategy led him to be considered for Democrats’ suddenly vacant second spot.

One of the striking elements of Walz’s biography is his unusually deep connections to China. Walz first visited the country in 1989, just months after the Tiananmen Square protests, and returned to the country some 30 times afterward. As an educator and then a small business owner, he facilitated student groups’ trips to China. As a legislator, he served on the Congressional-Executive Commission on China, which monitors human rights and the rule of law in the country, and co-sponsored resolutions urging the release of democratic activist Liu Xiaobo and remembering the Tiananmen Square victims.

Not all the attention to Walz’s China record has been positive. Republican and conservative figures have sought to portray Walz’s China ties as dangerous. On X, for example, Sen. Marco Rubio accused Walz of being a Chinese asset—“an example of how Beijing patiently grooms future American leaders”—who would “allow China to steal our jobs & factories & flood America with drugs.”

But Rubio’s attack has it precisely backward. Walz’s record is that of a measured critic of the Chinese Communist Party—prone neither to exaggeration nor accommodation. Nor is this a pose cooked up by spin doctors in the past few weeks. Small-town Nebraska newspaper articles—published well before Walz had any political ambitions—demonstrate that his professed affection for the Chinese people and culture has been matched by a longstanding criticism of the country’s rulers.

Back in the 1980s and ’90s, it didn’t take a lot to make the local papers. Walz, for instance, was once photographed for the Alliance Times-Herald—“Box Butte County’s Only Family-Owned Newspaper”—for a National Guard project: painting and repairing trash cans in the town center. (The photograph is about as exciting as the description suggests.)

The regular stuff of small-town news reporting—council meetings, 4-H club events, church announcements—was occasionally enlivened by stories about exceptional events. One such, it turned out, was Walz’s decision to teach in China as part of a program run by WorldTeach, a Massachusetts-based nonprofit. (Many news accounts, at the time and later, describe WorldTeach as a Harvard-run program, but it’s more accurate to say it was founded by Harvard students.)

“I’ve always had a real interest in travel, and feel this is a golden opportunity to see a culture that’s 3,000 years old,” Walz, then a senior at Chadron State College, told the Chadron Record in an article announcing his selection in 1989.

Walz would be going under less than glamorous conditions. It was the first year that WorldTeach would make placements in China, the Record reported, and that meant participants had to be resourceful: “They said we’ll basically have to solve our own problems,” Walz said. He said he had to raise $2,500 for his transportation, health insurance, and orientation costs—and, once in China, he would only earn $100 per month in salary (although that was, the Record noted, “about twice the amount generally paid [to] Chinese teachers”).

Although the crackdown on protesters in June 1989 led Walz to wonder whether the trip would go on, the program remained in place. After orientation in Hong Kong and Guangzhou, China, he traveled to his teaching site: a senior middle school in Foshan, a then-rapidly growing city in central Guangdong Province in southern China. There, he taught U.S. history and culture and English to classes of 65 students each from December 1989 to December 1990, according to a 1990 article in the Chadron Record. (Walz’s Midwestern-accentuated U.S. English was a change for the students, whose previous instructor was British, according to a 1994 article in the Scottsbluff Star-Herald.)

His trip was big enough news that the Record printed excerpts from a letter Walz wrote to a Chadron State faculty member while he was abroad. Walz wrote that he was “being treated like a king.” He was, he wrote, “totally responsible for my curriculum. But I’m managing.”

After he returned, Walz was invited to speak about his time at his alma mater, Chadron State. At about the same time, an interview about his year in China ran in local papers. His enthusiasm was obvious: “No matter how long I live, I’ll never be treated that well again,” Walz told the Record in 1990. “They gave me more gifts than I could bring home. It was an excellent experience.” (In 2024, the New York Post twisted this line as evidence that Walz had “fawned over Communist China.”)

Yet in context, it’s clear that Walz was no dupe. During his teaching year, he visited Beijing (a 40-hour trip by rail) and saw Tiananmen Square, according to the Record. As much as Walz loved China and the Chinese people, his attitude toward the Chinese Communist Party was bluntly critical. Tiananmen Square, he told the Record, “will always have a lot of bitter memories for the people.” (Walz later chose June 6 as his wedding date so he could “have a date he’ll always remember,” according to his wife.)

The problem with China, Walz observed, wasn’t its people but the government. “If they had the proper leadership, there are no limits on what [Chinese people] could accomplish,” he told the Record. “They are such kind, generous, capable people. They just gave and gave and gave to me. Going there was one of the best things I have ever done.”

Walz viewed China’s population as eager to leave its Communist-run society. “Many of the students want to come to America to study,” he told the Record. “They don’t feel there is much opportunity for them in China.” He mentioned that during one of his trips to nearby Macau, then still a Portuguese colony, the government granted amnesty to Chinese immigrants living in the colony illegally, triggering a stampede by tens of thousands of Chinese who wanted residency in the West.

The trip shaped Walz’s career as an educator. Within a few months of his return, Walz had found a job as a social studies teacher in Alliance, Nebraska, a town whose population was then just under 10,000 people. He created a pen-pal program linking his students to Chinese middle-school students at his old teaching placement, where a friend of his worked. The program was reported on the front page of the Alliance Times-Herald in 1991.

Walz, who must have been a dynamic teacher, used the exchange of letters to not only bridge cultural gaps but also demonstrate the stakes of then-acrimonious U.S.-China government relations to his students. Walz pointedly described the politics of the countries’ then-seemingly large trade imbalance (a fraction of what it is now) to the Times-Herald: “The Chinese government wants us to buy what they sell, but won’t buy what we sell.”

Soon, Walz was leading groups of students to China. The first visit was in July 1993, when he took 25 Alliance High School students on a trip partly funded by the Chinese government, although the students and sponsors, including Walz, had to cover costs of $1,580 each, according to an article in the Scottsbluff Star-Herald; Walz helped by raising funds from local businesses. (In a rare criticism of an aspect of Chinese culture, rather than the Chinese Communist Party, Walz responded to one student’s interest in hearing Chinese opera by saying he’d “rather eat glass” than see another Chinese opera.) Walz’s honeymoon with his wife, a fellow teacher, the next year involved two student trips to China, according to the Star-Herald. Later, he and his wife would start a business to promote similar exchanges.

For all his fondness toward China, Walz’s descriptions of its people at times reflected the prevailing stereotypes of the time. “The students are almost too well behaved,” he wrote in his letter from China that was excerpted in the Record in 1989. In a 1994 profile ahead of his honeymoon in China, Walz told the Star-Herald that it had been hard to memorize names and tell his students apart (although he also noted that Chinese students thought all Americans looked alike.) To the Times-Herald in 1993, he described his students as not overly creative but industrious: “[T]here was never even any unfinished homework,” he recalled. And, for Walz, mostly used to small-town life, the sheer scale of China was astonishing: “The people were the best part, and the worst part was the number of people.”

The contemporaneous (and surprisingly extensive) record of how Walz’s time in China influenced him clearly rejects the idea that Walz was groomed or otherwise misled by his time in the country. He was an earnest, young observer of a society and government radically unlike his own. After repeated exposure, however, China became increasingly familiar to him. His opinions about the Chinese people and their government derived from firsthand observations, filtered through his own background and reading.

Neither a hawk nor a dove, Walz approached China as a student and a teacher—an owl, to steal a metaphor. Throughout these early interviews, his insistence on the separation between a people and their government—and his repeated criticism of the Chinese government—was plain. So was his emphasis on the importance of democracy and recognizing where the United States fell short.

People change, and seeking clues to how a potential Vice President Walz would act based on how high school teacher Walz approached his lessons is clearly perilous. Still, it seems clear that Walz values facts, and in particular experience, rather than theory or ideology; that he has deeply held core beliefs about China’s people and government set in the era of Tiananmen; and that his commitment to promoting human rights—and U.S. economic interests in trade negotiations—is longstanding.

With that background, leavened by subsequent experience on China issues as a member of Congress, it seems more likely than not that Walz would be neither inflexibly hostile nor naïve about relations with Beijing.

[abcwordsurge]

hehehe. I'm back on my midwest nonsense. I spent like the last fifteen minutes filling my drafts with incorrect quotes of (mostly) kansas, iowa, and nebraska. they remain my favorite platonic trio. I love them to bits. prepare for a flood of midwest posts

[soaps-mohawk]

You guys are getting droughts, fires, and high temps over on the west side of the country. Here in Nebraska, we've had bad storms almost every week for the last month. Hell, the area in south central Nebraska where I live, just had 4 tornadoes and flooding this last Saturday, July 6th

God I can't even imagine living anywhere near tornadoes 😭 I've seen videos of the flooding all over. I'll gladly take some of that send it my way (maybe without the tornadoes). But I hope you stay safe!!! That's so scary 😭