#west reading pa

[klang-art]

Frog Duck is a good critter. (quick draw painting from PAWR on Friday)

#pleinair #plein air #oilpainting #art #painting #west reading pa

[thebeerthrillers]

Willow Creek Brewing to Permanently Close

Willow Creek Brewing to Permanently Close

Willow Creek Brewing Company will be permanently closing on June 16th. Willow Creek Brewing to Permanently Close It has been announced on social media and in the news that the Berks County brewery located in West Reading – Willow Creek Brewing – will be closing. The owners announcing that the last day would be on June 16th of 2024. The brewery opened in fall of 2020. A time of much flux and…

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#B. Kline #Brewery Closing #Brewery News #Industry News #June 16th #June 16th 2024 #Reading #Reading Beer #Reading PA #West Reading #West Reading Beer #West Reading PA #Willow Creek Brewing #Willow Creek Brewing Company

[westcoastmidnightrun]

R.M. PALMER FACTORY EXPLOSION - PUBLIC SAFETY, CORRUPTION AND NTSB INVESTIGATION

West Coast Midnight Run has produced three editorial and review segments following the devastating explosion of the chocolate factory in the borough of West Reading, Pennsylvania. The final segment explores issues tied to nationbal public safety, recalcitrance from borough officials and the National Transportation and Safety Board (NTSB) from offering the most basic information on the R.M Palmer facility under the rationalization it would somehow compromise their investigation (which is ongoing since March 2023).

The review segment further examines evidence that knowledge of same gas piping system is already in the public domain and questions have surfaced about its safety since the turn of the Millennium with very explicit warnings as of 2011 involving criminal convictions for PG&E (California leading utility with national influence) sometimes in 2017 and 2019.

West Coast Midnight Run™ invites the public and internet surfers to read our review and editorial and take action, because the fuse is still active and it is connected to piles and piles of "dynamite" - Public safety nationwide is STILL AT RISK!

#business #West Coast Midnight Run #explosion #public health #public safety #R.M. Palmer #ntsb #US Department of Transportation #West Reading PA #Mayor Samantha Kaag #UGI Corporation #gas utilities #gas pipeline #government corruption #government coverup #ibew #National Society of Professional Engineers #osha violation #industrial safety animation #industrial safety equipment #HAZOP #reuters #usa today #City of Reading PA #politics #pg&e #energy utilities #energy #pipe bomb #domestic terrorism

[lighthouse-system]

My surgeon was so awesome it's making me cry man.

#😭😭😭 #surgery cw #she like stepped up and corrected docs who misgendered/deadnamed me #im really glad shes teaching other docs around here #the surgeon btw is: Dr Brandt in West Reading PA

[mylight-png]

The "Free Palestine" movement is genocidal. Straight up. It's not just a few select slogans they use or some fringe members.

The very name of the movement is genocidal.

I had a conversation with my former roommates last semester where they refused to understand why "Free Palestine" in and of itself as a statement is a problem.

To them, it's a liberation movement. But the first issue arises when we ask who or what is being liberated.

What, in modern geographical terms, is Palestine? Where is Palestine? Who is the ruling party of Palestine?

Anyone with even a bit of knowledge would realize that this is a trick question. There isn't any country actually called Palestine.

When people refer to Palestinians, they typically talk about the people either in Gaza or the West Bank, which are two separate entities with two separate governments.

So who are we supposed to be freeing? Gaza, which has its own government in the form of Hamas? Or the West Bank, which has the PA as its governing group? (By the way, the PA has this little thing called pay-for-slay I suggest you look into, but that'd be a post for another time.)

The actual term "Palestine" most commonly is used to refer to the entire area of where Israel, Gaza, and the West Bank are located.

Which brings me to my main point. When people call to "Free Palestine" they aren't calling for a two-state solution. Identically to their call for "from the river to the sea", this slogan calls for the complete destruction of Israel.

A lot of people have already spoken on the issue of why "from the river to the sea" is genocidal in nature, so I won't be going too in depth on that. My point is more so that those two phrases are equivalently malevolent in nature.

There's also the people who call themselves "pro-Palestine". If we take into consideration what "Palestine" as a term means, we're left with two interpretations.

First, they just use that instead of "Free Palestine", making their use of it still equivalent for wanting the entirety of Israel gone.

Second, they want Palestine to "win" in the war.

Now, since we've established that there isn't actually a country called Palestine right now, they're either rooting for the PA or Hamas to win.

As I recommended before, it'd be fantastic if you could just take time to read up on what pay-for-slay is. As a quick summary, that's exactly what it sounds like. The PA pays people money for killing Israelis/Jews. (That's the very vague version, since this isn't the point of the post.)

Therefore, you can probably imagine what would happen to Israelis if the PA were to take over Israel (G-d forbid).

If, G-d forbid, Hamas were to take over Israel, we'd end up with a series of atrocities akin to the horrors of Oct 7th. How do I know? Hamas leaders have repeatedly promised to repeat Oct 7th again and again and again.

Both the PA and Hamas have killed their own people for suspected collaboration with Israel, in rather cruel ways. So you can probably imagine what'd happen to Israelis in both scenarios.

I have seen very very few people who align themselves with either phrasing of the movement actually calling for two states, or for any viable solution. (And no, a ceasefire that leaves Hamas in power is not a viable solution. We had a ceasefire until the moment they attacked on Oct 7th.)

(I say "very few" as an allowance that some may exist, but in reality I haven't seen any.)

If your solution involves the dissolution of Israel and giving power to either the PA or Hamas, congratulations. You are actively backing a genocidal "solution".

And much like a previous "solution", most of the victims of this proposed genocide would be Jewish.

#jumblr #jewish #proud israeli #israel solidarity #antisemitism #israel #israel hamas war #i stand with israel #am yisrael chai #hamas is isis #hamas and the pa both want to just kill jews and have said so and acted on it before

[odinsblog]

During her arrest, Ayesh was subjected to assault, threats, and insults by Israeli soldiers, according to the Addameer human rights organisation. She was transferred to Israel’s Hasharon Prison before being later taken to Damon Prison, where she is now being held.

Ayesh’s work as a human rights defender rose to the fore during her time at the Ramallah-based Lawyers for Justice, representing Palestinian political detainees in PA prisons. In July, she attended a session on behalf of the group at the United Nations in Geneva, Switzerland.

Tala Nasser, from the Addameer prisoners’ rights group, explained that Ayesh’s arrest comes amid a “violent mass arrest campaign” carried out by Israel since October 7.

The fact that the vast majority of the more than 6,900 Palestinians arrested in the occupied West Bank and East Jerusalem since October 7 have been transferred to administrative detention highlights the arbitrariness of Israel’s arrests, she said.

“This campaign includes activists, human rights defenders and political leaders,” Nassar told Al Jazeera, noting that it is “an attempt to silence them and prevent the exposure of the occupation’s crimes across the whole country”.

In December, Israeli forces also arrested political and civil society leader Khalida Jarrar, who was similarly transferred to administrative detention.

Despite releasing all but three Palestinian female detainees during the latest prisoner exchange with Hamas at the end of 2023, the Israeli army rearrested dozens. Some 80 female prisoners are being held today, all of whom are in the Damon Prison.

Among the 80 are dozens of women from the besieged Gaza Strip, but lawyers are forbidden from visiting them or knowing anything about them.

Several reports have emerged of female detainees from Gaza being physically beaten and abused, including an unknown number of them being held at Israeli military bases and not in prison.

Lawyers say conditions for all Palestinian detainees, including women, are unprecedentedly difficult. Eight Palestinian male prisoners have also died or were killed in Israeli custody since October 7, most of them in the days and weeks after their arrest.

Over the past few months, many videos have emerged of Israeli soldiers stripping, torturing and abusing male prisoners from both the occupied West Bank and the Gaza Strip.

“It is important to note that every female that is arrested is violated in one way or another,” said Nasser. “They are all facing threats, intensive strip searches, verbal assault and physical violence.”

(continue reading)

#politics #palestine #gaza #diala ayesh #israel #political prisoners #israeli hostages #human rights abuses #administrative detainees

[tamarrud]

sorry if this is an ignorant question, but what is the issue with mahmoud abbas? i haven’t heard much about him.

I answered a similar question back in 2016 so I'm copy/pasting (apologies if some of the info/links are outdated, I don't have time to go through them but you get the gist):

for starters, the palestinian leadership (PA) as a whole is illegitimate as mahmoud abbas has been a “president” without a mandate since 2010 (thanks to the US who desperately need him to stay!)

financial corruption within the PA is serious (which you can read about at length here) but for example, the PA is accused of the “loss” of 2 billion euros of aid intended for the west bank and gaza. it’s funny because around the same time, mahmoud abbas’ new mansion in ramallah was being built!

abbas openly rejects palestinians’ right of return and was quoted to have said to israeli opposition that “we will not ask to return to Yafa, Akka, and Safad”. 

abbas has always called to normalise relations with Israel and his PA coordinates its security forces with the israeli forces as the former suppresses palestinians and jails youth and activists or even hands them out to israeli occupation forces. this comes as no surprise as abbas treats security collaboration with Israel as something “sacred”, according to his own words. 

with all this suppression, abbas yet again opposes any means for palestinians to peacefully protest their occupation as he also openly opposes the BDS movement.. for some reason. 

abbas is doing nothing but harm to the palestinian struggle as he insists to continue on with the “peace process” sham — something which had proven to only worsen the situation for palestinians and the palestinian cause at large ever since oslo. these are all off the top of my head, but i hope i was able to help you understand why the amount of palestinians who detest him grows every day.

#also he's fucking 88 years old

[somekindofpoet]

La Petite Mort

Summary: Reader finds out Lorraine has just been bearing through intimacy with RJ, and takes it upon herself to educate her on how it should be done

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: +18 NSFW, smut, language 

A/N: Anon who requested this, whoever you are, forehead kiss you little horny angel. This was a real pleasure to write. If you don't read this in Lorraine's adorable accent, I will come for you.

LPM - La Drague (Part II) LPM - C'est Comme Ça (Part III)

LPM -T'en Va Pas (Part IV) LPM - Vouloir, C'est Pouvoir(Part V)

LPM - La Fin (Part VI)

Texas summers were nearly unbearable. The humidity rolled off the gulf coast and simmered in the blazing sun, soaking through your clothes and ensuring your sweat never evaporated. The problem with the weather in East Texas was that it forced you to suffer the ocean air, even with the warm dark waters hours away. You did your damnedest not to think about it while throwing bales of hay into the back of the ranch truck.

You had big dreams of moving out of state and going to a University in a place that was green and cool, but your reality was much more difficult to bear. The first strike against you was that you came from humble roots, your family mostly working for wealthy ranchers in the countryside. Your second and most egregious strike was being a woman. Sure, it was 1980, and girls went to college, but only the exceptional were accepted in the major universities on the East and West coasts. You were painfully average in IQ, and while you were lean and strong from a lifetime of working at ranches, women’s sports weren’t exactly the top priority of the country. 

You’d settled for now, saving up your money and sweating away as a ranch hand until you had enough in your pocket to make your escape. Your palms were beginning to burn, the bale ropes cutting into your callouses as you had foregone gloves for the sake of trying to keep cool. With the truck bed piled high, you slam the tailgate shut and walk around to the driver's side, wiping your forehead with your wrist. You climb in and start the old Chevy, ready to get it rolling back to the cool shade of the barn. You put the truck in drive, imagining it was your luggage in the back and the open road in front of you. You glance at the passenger seat and smile, the image of a girl sitting there painting itself in your head. 

The girl always started out as something innocent, but the image of her inevitably warped in your mind from a shadowy stranger into one you knew well. Tanned caramel skin, dark chestnut hair blowing in the wind, and a spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. You sigh and shake your head, trying to etch-a-sketch the vivid picture from behind your eyes. As the truck rolls around the dirt road, the very figure of your imagination pulls into view.

Lorraine Day, the rancher's daughter and your friend, was sitting leaning up against the shady side of the barn, her nose in a book. You grip the steering wheel a little harder, trying to cool yourself. Lorraine was all sweet southern charm, innocent doe eyes, and small half smiles. She also happened to be the most beautiful girl you had ever seen, and your friendship with her was a daily challenge. You’d thought it would get easier after she started dating RJ, but in reality, it got worse. She was so far out of his league it was laughable, but she had fallen for his goofy charm and enthusiasm for film. You thought he was far too pretentious and self-righteous, a point you’d made to her often. 

You back the truck up to the barn door and park it, sliding out into the sun. Lorraine closes her book and looks up at you, a smile pulling at her lips. You were such a sucker for that smile. You drop the tailgate open and slide the closest bale to the end, turning your head over your shoulder to return the smile.

“Mornin, Lorraine.” You say, dipping your head at her in greeting.

“Good mornin y/n, you’re gettin started awfully early today.”

You pull the bale down, holding it by the two ropes that bound it, and nod your head, “Can’t be workin in this weather in a few hours. Figured I’d get the heavy liftin done early.”

She hums in agreement and leans back against the barn, watching you haul the bales down off the truck and walk them inside. When you come out for the next bale, she gets up and strolls over to you. She hops up and sits on the side of the tailgate, swinging her legs.

“Hey, when you’re done, you wanna go grab some ice cream in town? Daddy took the truck to the livestock auction today, so I’m stuck here.” She drawls, plucking strands of hay from the bale beside her.

You smirk and pull another bale off the truck, grunting with the effort. “You gonna help me haul these bales, or just sit there lookin all pretty like, asking me for favors?”

Her eyebrows go up, and she laughs, the sound like music to your ears. “You know full well I can’t help you move these things. And it’s not a favor, it’s an invitation.”

You walk back from the barn to the truck bed, shaking your head, chuckling. Only three bales left to move and you’re done for the morning.

“An invitation to take my truck and spend my money on ice cream for you?” You jab playfully at her, enjoying yourself. 

You walk the next bale into the shade of the barn and throw it down next to the stall, turning back for the last two. The sun is beaming down on Lorraine, her hair shining in the light and her dark eyes glittering. You puff your cheeks up with air and let it out all at once, shaking your head.

She’s working you, widening her eyes and blinking slowly, “Come on y/n, it’ll be quick. Promise.”

You pull the last two bales off the truck and laugh. You’re such a sucker. 

“Yeah alright, get in the truck.” 

The drive to town is a quick fifteen minutes, all back country roads and open fields in between. The windows are rolled down, the wind softly licking at your sweaty neck and whipping your hair into your eyes. You glance over to the passenger seat, your fantasy from earlier coming true in a small way. Lorraine has one arm on the window, her head slightly tilted out, letting the rushing air pull her hair out of her face. 

The ice cream shop is nearly empty, most folks deeming 10 AM too early for something so sweet. You buy a strawberry cone for Lorraine and a lemon for yourself. You take them to your truck to eat on the drive back to the ranch. You can’t help but notice the pink liquid dripping down the cone onto her fingers as it melts, and you question if you should have asked for strawberry instead of lemon. It would probably taste better on her skin, though.

You toss what’s left of your cone out the window, the lemon seeming bitter now that you had imagined the syrupy, pink sweetness of Lorraine. Her ice cream. Only the ice cream of course. You could never. She would never.

You grit your teeth, white knuckle gripping the steering wheel, trying to undo the sudden knots twisting in your stomach. Lorraine isn’t helping the case, savoring the ice cream with a slow tongue, sucking the melted runoff from her fingers. It’s simultaneously innocent and pornographic. It makes you dislike RJ even more. 

She pops the last bit of the cone into her mouth as you pull down the dirt driveway along the side of her house, finally granting you a reprieve. You park next to the barn and jump out of the truck, eager to put some space between yourself and Lorraine. To your great disappointment, she follows you into the barn and sits on a short stack of hay bales as you ready yourself to finish the barn chores. 

You pick up a pitch fork and press the teeth into the dirt, leaning on the wooden handle. “You don’t got anything better to do today than watch me sweat, or what?” 

She shrugs, picking at the hay, “Nothing interesting.”

“Where’s your boyfriend?” You ask, the question weighted in your gut.

She sighs and purses her lips, “He went with some crew out past Houston to film somethin.”

Your brow furrows, “You don’t sound too pleased about that.”

“Well he says it’s gonna be tasteful, but it’s smut.”

You snort a laugh through your nose, stumbling forward as you press too much weight into the pitchfork. You right yourself and look back to her, her expression unamused.

“He’s shootin a porno?”

She rolls her eyes at you, “I guess if that’s what you want to call it, then yeah.”

You raise your eyebrow at her, grinning, “Well if there’s naked people bumpin up against each other, usually you call that a porno.”

She huffs, “A tasteful one though.”

You laugh in over-exaggerated disbelief, “Tasteful or no, he’s filmin people fuckin. You’re okay with that?”

She gestures vacantly with her hand, shaking her head. “I don’t know. I don’t even know why people want to do stuff like that. Sex ain’t all that exciting anyway.”

You bark out a laugh, then stop when you realize she wasn’t joking.

“What do you mean, it ‘ain’t all that exciting’?” You air quote, waiting for her to clarify.

She shrugs, “It just ain’t. Everyone acts like it’s some grand ole time, but mostly I find myself just waitin for it to be over.”

Your jaw drops, and you let go of the pitchfork, dropping that too. “You mean to tell me RJ ain’t shakin your tree every other hour?”

The blush that rises up her neck tells you everything you need to know. She has no idea what it’s supposed to be like. Obviously, her boyfriend is doing something terribly wrong. The heat rises to her cheeks and she starts chewing the inside of her lip.

“I mean he does, but I won’t let him much. It’s more fun for him than it is for me.”

You scoff and bend over to pick up the pitchfork. You’re shaking your head, opening the empty horse stall, quietly exiting the conversation before you say something she won’t like. 

She pipes up before you can enter the stall, the frown on her face clear even from the other side of the barn. “What? You been doin better? I don’t see you running around town with any boys.”

You purse your lips and turn back to her, “Well that’s your first problem right there, Lorraine. I don’t go runnin around with boys.”

You turn back to the stall to let her absorb the information. It takes her a few minutes, enough time for you to start mucking the hay. You hear her get up and figure she would leave, but her head pops up over the side of the stall, her arms resting on the top beam.

“So you been runnin around with girls then?”

You scoop a pile of soiled hay, nodding once, “Now and again.”

She hums, her brow furrowed in curiosity, “What’s that like?”

“Better’n whatever RJs been doin to you.”

She lifts her head from her hands, irritation spreading across her face, “You tellin me you could do better?”

This is a line you hadn’t ever walked. Sure, you flirted with her subtly but never outright propositioned her. Maybe it’s the heat that has your brain a little foggy, or maybe the realization that the most beautiful girl you’d ever seen had never been given a proper orgasm pushed you to the line.

“Without a doubt.” You say, not looking up from your work. 

She’s quiet, and you worry you’ve gouged an indelible mark into your friendship. You glance up at her and are surprised to find hesitant but curious eyes on you. You stop working and watch her eyes trail down your neck and over your shoulders. You cock your head, was she checking you out? 

She glances back up and realizes you’ve caught her, and the blush returns to her cheeks. She drops off the side of the stall and out of your sight, so you stake the pitchfork into the ground and slowly exit back into the open barn. You’re nervous, so you stick your hand in your pocket for the candies you stash there, hoping to keep yourself busy while you mend whatever damage you’d just done. 

She’s sitting on the hay bales again, biting her nails. You approach her and open your palm, a watermelon Jolly Rancher rolling there.

“Quit chewin your nails. Have a candy.” 

She takes it quickly, unwrapping it and popping it into her mouth. She’s gazing up at you, her face thoughtful. 

She pushes the candy into her cheek, “How does it work?”

You roll the blue sweet around in your mouth, wondering how in-depth to go, “Depends. We have mouths and hands just like any boy.”

She gulps and sputters, “Your mouth?” 

You raise your eyebrows at her, this is worse than you’d thought. “Well yeah, don’t RJ do that to you?”

She shakes her head no, eyes wide. You lick your lips, unconsciously taking a step toward her. Her lips part just slightly, her eyes growing dark with her pupils expanding. You catch her stealing the fastest glance at your lips and consider your losses if you do cross this line. If she rejects you, you can laugh it off and go back to mucking the horse stall. But if she doesn’t, oh, the consequences of that are enough to make your mouth water around the hard candy on your tongue. 

You take another step toward her, gauging her reaction. Her fingers twitch at her side, and she inhales sharply, but she doesn’t move away. The candy in your mouth has dissolved completely, the extra saliva under your tongue mixing sweet and syrupy. Hers is gone too, either swallowed whole or meeting the same fate as yours. You throw caution to the wind and reach down, cupping her jaw in your hand. Her breathing speeds up, her chest rising and falling quickly beneath her shirt. 

You lean in, inches from her lips, emboldened by her body language, and whisper, “I could show you, if you want.”

She gulps again, “You-you could?”

“Would you like me to show you?” You say, your voice low and soft, just a hair away from her lips.

She nods slowly, inhaling deeply. It’s all the consent you need, and you close the gap, pressing your lips into hers. You intended to take it slow, ease her into the idea of kissing a girl. But she surges forward the moment your lips meet, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you close. Your tongue glides across her lip, and she gasps, opening her mouth to greet your tongue with hers. Her hands are in your hair, gripping, and her knees are spreading apart, allowing you more space to move in on her. 

She whimpers when you bite softly on her bottom lip, and a fire ignites in your lower belly. Your hands begin to wander, down her neck, over her shoulders and breasts, sliding down her ribs to her hips. You trail kisses down her jaw and lick at her pulse, eliciting more small mewls from the back of her throat. You take your time on her neck, testing how far she’s willing to let you go. She leans her head back, her hands grasping at your shoulder blades over your shirt. 

She’s touch starved, hungry for an intimacy that is clearly missing from her current relationship.  You pull back and drop to your knees between her legs, looking up at her while tracing your fingers along the hem of her shirt. You can feel her stomach twitch under your fingers, excited and ticklish. She looks down at you with a mixed expression. She’s nervous, but she wants this. More than you had expected. She takes her shirt from under your fingers and pulls it over her head, her jaw clenched but her head nodding yes. 

You slow your approach, if she’s nervous, you know she won’t enjoy it as much. You take the time to soothe her, ease her into it, make her comfortable with wanting you. Her denim shorts are bunched up, revealing miles of skin, hot to the touch. You run your palms from her knees up to her hips, inching your body in between her legs until your chest is pressing into her stomach. You plant a soft kiss on her ribs, just under her bra, your hands making their way to her waist to steady her. 

She reaches down to you, her hand sliding around the side of your neck, and pushes you back some so she can lean down and kiss you again. You savor the sugary taste on her tongue, the two flavors of jolly ranchers mixing in your mouth. She seems more sure now, her hands wandering across your shoulders and back, taking in your form. You break away from her lips and shuffle back to press hot, open mouthed kisses below her belly button, running your tongue along the top of her shorts. She leans back on her hands, opening her body to you. 

You take the button of her shorts between your fingers and look up at her, waiting for permission. She nods hurriedly, reaching down to help you push them off of her. You brush her rushing hands away and undo the button, pulling her forward to the edge of the hay bale. The shorts and her underwear hit the ground behind you as you toss them over your shoulder, your hands returning to the tops of her thighs. You spread her legs, and your jaw drops at the sight.

You didn’t think she could get more attractive, and yet, here she was, soaking wet and wanting and absolutely beautiful. 

“Oh fuck,” you whisper, your eyes glued to her center.

She gasps and tries to close her legs but ends up squeezing your shoulders as you lean in.

“Oh god, is it bad, it’s never been like this, I-“ she’s breathless and panicky, but you cut her rambling off with a kiss to her swollen clit.

You drag your tongue from her opening back up to her clit, circling it once, twice, then sucking it in between your lips. She’s lost all composure, forgetting her insecurities and letting out surprised sighs and soft moans. You detach and turn your head, nip at her thigh, and soothe it with your tongue. You look up at her and grin.

“Don’t apologize. You’re incredible.” You say, your voice raspy. 

She whimpers as you dive back in, licking up all the nectar she has to give you. She is decidedly better than the ice cream you’d had earlier, the salt of her sweat mingling in the sweetness between her legs. You dip your tongue inside her entrance, and one of her hands winds its way into your hair. You pull your tongue out and drag it up to her clit again, lapping at it slowly, learning what she likes through touch and sound alone. She’s shaking under your mouth, her legs squeezing your head as you wrap your hands around them. You give her one long suck, rolling your tongue over her and she cums, hard. Her hips tilt up into your face and her hand in your hair presses you into her, her head thrown back and mouth open. You keep at it, letting her ride it out as long as she can until she’s pushing your head back, twitching and panting.

You kiss the inside of her thighs on both legs and look up at her, a wide smile on your shining lips. She’s still gasping for air, but she looks down at you, and it’s clear she’s in awe. 

“That’s…that was…I’ve never…” she stutters, still breathless.

You rest your arms on her legs, smirking up at her in self-satisfaction, “Come down here with me, and we can do it again.”

“Again?”

“Yes, again. And again, if you want.”

The next thing you know, you’re on your back, fresh hay clinging to your hair and the sweet smell of alfalfa working its way into your clothes. Lorraine leans down and kisses you, groaning into your lips, looking for the “again” that was promised. You don’t tell her you could do this all day with her, you don’t even need food. Just her. 

She’s reaching down and pulling your shirt up, so you sit up, letting her pull it over your head before crashing back down into you. Moaning at the feeling of your skin on hers. You reach around her back, still kissing her, and unclasp her bra, letting it fall from her shoulders. She sits up and slings it aside, quick to return to your lips. She’s hurried now, her skin burning hot on yours. Her kisses are growing sloppy in her rush, but you find you enjoy it even more that way. 

You lift your hips and roll her over, settling your leg between hers and taking in the view. Her dark hair is mixed with the hay, the contrast making it even more beautiful. You lean into her and realize you’re criminally overdressed, so you unbutton your jeans and push them to your ankles before kicking them off behind you. Now when you lean in, you can feel how wet she is on your thigh, and the sensation alone nearly takes you out. 

You drop your face into her neck again, kissing and nipping her skin, leaving faint pink marks in your wake. While your lips begin their descent to her chest, your hand runs down her ribs. You slide your leg back, and your fingers find her clit, rubbing small circles over the overly sensitive area. A soft “oh” falls from her lips when you run your tongue over her nipple, then suck on it softly. Her hands are restless, her nails running down your spine, up the back of your neck, softly gripping your hair only to release and begin again. 

She’s not twitching away from your fingers anymore, her body recovered and ready for round two. You run your fingers through her, groaning around her nipple as you feel how warm and wet she is. You slide two fingers into her, and she sighs in relief. Like she’d been waiting for you all day. Like nothing was more desirable than your fingers filling her up. You release her nipple with a pop and breathe slowly through your nose, fending off your own orgasm feeling how tight she was around you. Once you’ve recovered, you begin to pump your arm, curling your fingers softly before you pull out. You graze her G spot and she shouts, clenching down on you and sitting up on her elbows. You stop moving, looking up at her in alarm.

“Did I hurt you?”

She swallows, her eyes wide, “No, no, it’s just. What was that?” 

Of course, RJ hadn’t ever hit that spot. You internally roll your eyes at his ineptness. It was criminal, she hadn’t even known the spot was there. 

You curl your fingers again, pressing into it, “You mean this?”

Her eyes roll and her lashes flutter, her arms shaking under her, “Yeah, yes. How?”

You pull out slightly, then push back in and do it again, pulling another whimper from her throat, “Do you like that?”

She nods, dropping back to the ground.

You lean over her, your mouth close to her ear, “Tell me.”

“I like it,” she sighs, her hands moving into your hair, “Oh god I like it.” 

You smile and press a kiss to the side of her jaw, “Good.” You say and begin moving your fingers again. 

You use your thumb to circle her clit gently, and her breathing speeds up. One hand in your hair, and one squeezing your shoulder. She pulls you down, kisses you feverishly, groaning through her nose as your tongues slide across each others. Your pace is steady as you fuck her into the ground, alternating between kissing her lips and down her neck. Her nails drag across your back, digging deep into your skin, the sting giving you goosebumps. 

Her neck is straining and she’s panting, arching her back up into your body. Her moans grow closer together and louder.

“Oh, fuck y/n, right there,” she groans, “I’m gonna, I’m gonna-“

The rest of her statement is cut off by a low pitched moan, her body seizing up and her legs squeezing your body. The sound of her orgasm sends you hurtling into your own, stiffening your back and clenching your legs. She drops into the hay and dirt just before you drop onto her, bodies spent and hearts racing. You slide your weight off to her side, pulling your hand out from between her legs, your head resting on her shoulder. You lay your arm across her, careful not to let your fingers fall into the dirt. 

Once the post orgasmic high wears off, you sit up, looking down at her. Her eyes are far away, distant in thought. You caress her cheek with the back of your hand, smiling warmly.

“You okay?”

She blinks quickly, her eyes shifting over to you. She nods, “More than okay.” 

“You wanna do it again?” You ask her, smiling coyly at her.

She looks dumbfounded, her mouth opening and closing without speaking. You smirk at her, feeling smug about the state you’ve put her in. 

She finally comes around and nods, “I just need a minute.”

You shrug, “That’s okay. Take all the time you need. My day is yours now.”

She sits up, her eyes wide and a half smile tugging at her lips. She pulls you over, kissing you slowly and softly. As the pace begins to pick up, the sound of car tires on the gravel outside rip the two of you apart. 

Lorraine gasps, her eyes wide with terror, “Daddy.”

You frown, “Well, no one’s ever called me that before, but I’m not against the nickname.”

She shoves your shoulder and scrambles to her feet, looking for her clothes, “No idiot. My dad, he’s home.”

“Oh shit!” You yelp, joining her in the search for clothing. 

It’s a mad dash, pulling on underwear and pants and shoes, shuffling around in the barn, both of you trying not to giggle. You hear his footsteps approaching and run into the horse stall, frantically grabbing the abandoned pitch fork. Lorraine scrambles up the side of the stall and sits perched on the edge, pretending to watch you muck out the hay. 

Her eyes are wild, and she whispers to you, “I couldn’t find my panties.”

You blanch, knowing full well if Mr. Day saw the Sunday panties in the hay, he’d know exactly what had gone on. You pop your head over the stall, your eyes scanning the barn floor for them. You finally catch sight of them, half hidden under the rusty old tractor in the corner. Too far for you to run over to hide them. You cross your fingers, hoping he doesn’t catch sight of them. Lorraine is doing a horrendous job of appearing nonchalant, twisting her fingers and swinging her legs. You glance up at her as he walks in and give her your hardest ‘be chill’ look before you start shoveling horse shit.

“There’s my beautiful daughter,” Mr. Day’s low, scratchy voice rumbles out as he saunters over to the stall, patting her back and looking over the wall at you.

“And my favorite ranch hand. Hard at work, as always.”

You stop shoveling to stand and smile at him. You shoot him a wink, “You know me sir, always workin on somethin.”

He barks out a laugh, his mustache getting caught between his lips. He sighs, patting Lorraine’s leg, “You’re a good kid, y/n. A damn good kid.” He looks up at his daughter, “Good company for my baby girl, keep her around, Lorraine.”

He pats her leg once more and turns to shuffle out of the barn, making his way up to the house. Lorraine lets out a breath you hadn’t realized she was holding and slouches over. You grin up at her conspiratorially. She grimaces at you, making you frown.

“Whats’a matter? He didn’t suspect a thing.”

She starts wringing her hands again, looking down at her fingers, “What if RJ finds out?”

You snort and shake your head “Baby, he’s got his head so far up his own ass I’m pretty sure I could make you cum in front of him, and he wouldn’t notice.”

She shoots you an exasperated look, picking up a loose screw off the post next to her and throwing it at you.

 “He would too notice, and he’s gonna notice these.” She says, softly running her fingertip over the bite marks and hickeys on the inside of her thighs. 

She shivers, closing her eyes and licking her lips. You dip your head down, pretending not to see but grinning like mad at the hay in your pitchfork. Hopefully, he did notice the marks. Hopefully, she figured you were better for her than he was. Hopefully, the first petite mort you had given her opened her eyes to the possibilities of satisfaction. When you lift your head to look at her again, she’s smiling at you. 

“Your apartment got room for two?”

“You gonna buy me dinner first?” You ask, smirking.

“If you do that to me again, I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

“I want a great big ranch house and a new truck.” You tell her, dropping the pitchfork and strutting over to her.

You put your hands on her knees and open her legs, stepping between them again, her hips at face height. You rest your head on her thigh and look up at her. Her eyes are soft and warm, and she reaches out to run her fingers through your hair. 

“I think I can find a way to make that happen.”

“Put it on your tab.” You say, kissing the bite mark on her thigh.

“It’s gonna run up pretty high.”

“You can afford it.”

#lorraine day #jenna ortega #lorraine day x reader #X #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #vada cavell #tara carpenter #wednesday

[wttt-dirus-work]

So, i saw a post with NY headcanons and it reminded me that while i included my own disabled headcanons in my fics, i forgot to make my own headcanons post (?) and i've got more than i though lol

So here we go!

NY: Dude got a bad eye, someday it's normal, other days it get blurred. He also has a scar over it, and his shoulders can get funky when its humid outside.

NJ: some of y'all already knows it, but Jersey got Tourette's. Mostly shoulder jerking, neck twitching, blinking hard and grimacing. When it gets bad his back jerks, and his vocals tics get worse (mostly whistles and pop, tho if hes anxious/stressed he does repeat some words)

Delaware: he got arthritis in his hands, and can hardly move them.

Mass: He was injured during the revolution, and walking became harder for him (limping and his legs became stiffer), then another injury during the civil war made him unable to walk for some days, therefore he use a wheelchair most of the time. He is still able to walk, but it is either too painful, or he doesn't have the energy needed to be able to stand all day.

Connie: he got shaky hands, when he's tired, nervous or angry, he cant hold anything with those. Its his nerves, and it doesnt hurt but its annoying.

Vermont: he got diabetes! Type 1; and it's so fucking expensive that it's Québec his "dealer" (it cost around 98$US when here its around 12$CAN sooo). He also got a sweet tooth, and forget to watch his sugar level (Hampshire there's for it; buddy's wayy to protective to let anything happen to Vermont)

PA: he's dyslexic, and it's mostly Mass who helps him with paperwork when he's not badgering Connie.

Florida: That gremling got Adhd, big dyslexia and his first language is spanish (which doesnt help with the reading). He also got so many scars from disturbing wildlife (anyone has seen that "yoink" dude in the everglades? Yeah thats flo). He got chronic pain in his left knee, and his right wrist always cracks when he moves it.

Louie: french lover is a people pleaser, but the chillest person you'll ever meet. He never panics, and is sometime too calm; but hurt any of the southern state (or Cal) and you're done. He's the voodoo capital, so dont mess with him

Georgia: hes an insomniac, but is fucking sleepy during the day (the math aint mathing ya know). He can sleep anywhere except during the night. He's bud with york and nevada, you can find those three driking in silence during a poker game.

Virginia: (uses they/them) they have a limp on the left leg, who always in pain (low but chronic with some real bad days). They're also a sleepwalker (think Celinaspookyboo style) and Georgia (or one of the insomniac state) each switch to watch them at night.

Montana: deer in headlights when spoken to. Will not talk to anyone when he doesnt have something to say or isnt upset (that sketch with the clown thing? Yeah he talked to them cause he was angry). Dont talk to him, dont even aknowledge him and he'll be more than happy to not exist in your mind. (Hes jealous of alaskas ability to not being seen)

Cal: dudes his always in pain. The fire, the drought, to goldrushes, hes always hurting. He got big scars from the fires, and his skin is the dryest thing ever despite all the moisturizer he uses. When he's burning up his eyes gets cloudy grey; they itch and cry all the time, and he cant see shit. He also need an oxygen mask when its too bad, and his eyes are naturaly gold.

Washington: hes a bitch. Dude got poor circulation too, so his hands and feet are always cold. When it's raining for too long his hair is oily, and when it's a drought it's the driest (he uses dryshampoo and got a routine to fight it).

Oregon : hes gay. Thats a known thing, and he's the bridge between Cal and Wash. Hes nicer to cal than wash, but he's not kind. The west coast are nice in interraction, but they ain't your friends.

Nevada: ah, vada. He got scaring from the nuclear testing, can see in the dark like nobody, and is the only state who can chose to change their physical appearance. Has coloured hair (pink or purple mostly) and the greenest eyes you'll ever see (or purple, didnt made my mind yet). Hes careful with his diet and always exercice despite the painful joins.

Texas: that idiot got sleep apnea but refuses to get checked out for it (and get a CPAP). He also has asthma (geez that word is hard to write) and colorblindness (can't see red). He only wears his shirt cause he knows what the colours are and refused to be pranked about that.

If you wanna adds your own, your welcome to do so! ^^

#wttt new york #wttt new jersey #wttt delaware #wttt massachusetts #wttt connecticut #wttt vermont #wttt pennsylvania #wttt florida #wttt louisiana #wttt georgia #wttt virginia #wttt montana #wttt california #wttt washington #wttt oregon #wttt nevada #wttt texas #dirus think #wttt #welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #wttsh #ben brainard #dirus ranting #dirus rant #wttt headcanons

[sebsxphia]

MY LOVE 💐💐

new layout looks SO good!!!

thinking about preacher Rhett bringing his film camera to a dingy motel room…. thinking really hard

ptolemaea. | the thoroughfare motel tapes.

preacher!rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: you and rhett are nearing the end of the line and he has a sinful idea to document the beginnings of your time out west.

￫ word count: 9K.

￫ c/w: heavy and dark religious themes, sex, p in v, rough sex, cnc, derogatory sex, derogatory names used towards reader, swearing, kissing, thigh riding, pussy spanking, spanking, spanking with a cross, boot riding, edging, blowjobs, deep throat, skull fucking, aftercare, bruising, crying, dacryphilia if you squint, overstimulation, daddy kink, choking, nipple pinching, corruption and innocence kink and preacher!rhett abbott.

￫ a/n: it’s here! i would highly suggest listening to wrestling in dirt pits, gibson girl, western nights and thoroughfare by ethel cain, in that order, whilst reading! a huge shout out to @bobfloyds @beachbabey @sunblchdfly @lewmagoo and @bradshawsbitch for brainstorming the most filthy and precious ideas. i love you all dearly. this is for you all <3 this is part of ‘ptolemaea. | the verses.’ my main masterlist can be read here! 💌

previous chapter | next chapter

Rhett had guarded his heart like a fed from the moment you met him. Through the times he had you bent over his wooden desk in his back office at the Church, to lying with him at night in a Motel bed. On occasions, such as the other night when he chased you through the woods as a game, you thought you saw into him. You thought you saw something real, but it was quickly faltered back to the Preacher you knew. None the less, you were getting closer to the end of your destination with each passing Motel and tin shaped diner as you made your way out West. Perhaps it was the force of proximity, or that Rhett knew your journey was coming to an end, but one night on the passing roads, Rhett opened up to you.

“I was twelve years old ‘nd son of a Preacher. I loved him and the love he had for my Mother. Subsequently, he made me fall in love with America. But, my Mama, she was always good for makin’ me cry,” Rhett shook his head and scoffed, his tone gritting between his teeth. “Everythin’ in that fuckin’ town wanted me dead, ‘till I was holdin’ a gun to my head and I knew I had to go.” The sound of his truck hummed through the blackout night and you turned in your seat to watch with intent as he spoke. “I was seventeen ‘nd I knew I had to see it all. I had to get out and go chasin’ its sweet call,” Rhett motioned forward with his hand, then paused. “But I was scared of the world. I ended up standin’ over my Ma’s casket, thinkin’ I was next. I was scared I’d end up like my Pa. I looked in a mirror and I was beggin’ myself for more time.”

Rhett paused for another moment, but his eyes were still fixed on the dim lit road ahead. You could see him replaying it as a ghost of a memory behind those tired eyes and you felt for him. You realized you were no less different compared to him.

He let out a defeated and tired sigh, and then his demeanor switched as he recalled something else behind those cobalt blue eyes. “But then I met, well caught, you.” He had a grin on his face now. “Y’ came in to my Church lookin’ like a backwater girl and America’s sweetheart.” He reached over and squeezed the flesh of your knee with a grin still on his face. You squealed in response and playfully swatted at his hand to stop the sensation that caused your nerve endings to turn into television static.

“Y’ didn’t trust no one.” Rhett huffed out a laugh as you fought to keep his hand away from the pressure points on your knee.

“That’s because the whole town found me suckin’ the Preachers cock.” You quipped back at him with amusement in your tone.

Rhett hummed in pride as he recollected the memory. “I remember though, what you said to me.”

You looked down towards your lap where your fingers intertwined and busied themselves with one another. You were trying to avoid Rhett’s curious gaze at your admittance of remembering something so fondly.

“You said, don’t run, I’ll take you anywhere. I mean fuck, we were both outta luck, but at least your truck beats walking to the fuckin’ West.” You looked out of the truck window as you spoke. It was dark for the most part, only with a couple far off city lights pathing the way, but it helped with the silence that fell heavy over the truck.

You heard Rhett exhale deeply and shift in his seat. “Before I came to your town, I was in Florida. I had no one to worry about leavin’ for and no one left to love. But now that I’ve met you, fuck. I finally know jus’ where I’m headin’. Remember when I was all alone in my house and I was fuckin’ your guts like I hated you? I didn’t hate you, sweet lamb. I just kept prayin’ you’ll save me. You made me fuckin’ crazy.”

You felt a sense of clarity clear your head at Rhett’s admission. Your whole body shuddered at the physical memory. It was the first time he invited you round to his house. It was no more than a week after your run in in the Church toilets and the first time he fucked you in his back office at the Church.

He snuck you in. He was careful not to let anyone spot you visiting the town Preacher’s house during the dead of night. Rhett had claimed he’d been alone all day and he needed someone to kill his loneliness with. He had your legs doubled over and his cock hitting your cervix so furiously, that you could see him bulge in your lower abdomen. At the time, you thought you’d done something to warrant such loathsome sex, but it became clear as Rhett explained to you in his truck, that this night was because he didn’t know how to control himself anymore. He spat in your mouth for the first time that night. Your own mouth salivated as you recalled the animalistic action. You understood now that he was spitting his love into your mouth. He needed you, and it came out in the most frustrating way he knew how.

“I think I’ve found a way to show y’ how much y’ mean to me, when you’re lookin’ all pretty, lyin’ in those sheets undressed.” Rhett motioned to the backseat in his truck as he kept his gaze fixed ahead of him. You leant over and retrieved the plastic bag. You reached inside and fished out an old film camera. It was still in its box with the cardboard tattered around the corners. “I wan’ remember everythin’ when we get to the West.” Rhett reached over again to touch your knee, but this time his hand skimmed higher and squeezed at your thigh. You felt a million and one butterflies swarm your stomach at what your Preacher was implying.

“When?” You had to bite down on your bottom lip to stop the selfish grin spreading across your face.

“Tonight, once we reach this Motel. Wear that pretty set I got you. I wan’ get alone with you, sweet lamb.”

“Yes, Father.”

Your son of a Preacher, sinful as ever. You were all over him like a burning rash as he drew closer to the Motel. Your fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt and your lips placed chaste kisses over his neck. Occasionally your tongue would dip out and soak up the salty taste of his sweat that had been simmering for a day or two. It was heaven to you. A concoction that you would go back for time and time again. Eventually, Rhett parked up at the Motel. He paid with the cash he stole from the Church and guided you to your Motel room, with his hand placed firmly on your lower back. He never strayed far from his precious lamb. It was as if to guide his lamb to the slaughter.

Once inside, you fished out the set Rhett had bought you a couple of towns back and slipped it on in the en-suite. The set was simple. It came from a town that hadn’t seen much of the newest century and you wondered momentarily if someone could have been murdered in it. It was cream and white, but a perfect white. Lacy details that had tiny flowers embroidered on, ran around the base of the bra. The underwear curved perfectly and the straps from the garter belt ran over the swell of your ass that was still tinged a baby pink colour from Rhett’s hands two nights before. The garter belt was attached to cream coloured stockings, and it made your thighs look like a place Rhett wanted to hide his face away in for the rest of eternity, until the end of Armageddon if he had to.

“You look like a virgin born again, my sweet lamb. Or, a lamb brought to the slaughter. Shall we find out which?” Rhett’s index finger lazily pointed to the ground beneath his boots. He needed no definite command to tell you exactly where you were to end up. You moved as gracefully as you could to stand in-between Rhett’s wide spread thighs at the edge of the bed. His calloused hands made contact with the backs of your thighs and your body jolted alive at his fervent touch. As if to elicit this image to memory forever, Rhett’s hands moved up and over your legs, finding their home on your ass. He issued a light, yet solid slap, to the soft flesh that made an easy moan fall from your lips, your skin still tender from before.

“I’m in love with your body, that’s why I’m fuckin’ it up, y’ know?” In sequence, as if Rhett had the rhythm of a hymn playing in his head, he delivered five more curt slaps to your supple flesh, each of them burning a fire on your skin. Instinctively, your palms reached out to grip at Rhett’s plaid shirt, with your body wilting forwards against him. Something of a merciful groan left your lips, as if to beg Rhett to stop, but you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted him to—

“Baby,” Rhett’s tone warned you. “If it feels good, then it can’t be bad.” Somehow, he always knew the right thing to say to discourage your doubt, and you let him continue to welt the supple flesh of your ass with his calloused palm.

“Turn around.” Rhett ordered with a gruffness in his voice. He planted his palm on the round of your ass and curved your thigh to direct you towards the blinking red light in the corner of the Motel room. You tiptoed on your feet to position yourself. His hands snaked along your hips and squeezed the soft flesh of your stomach, before leaving your body momentarily and picking up the small cross he’d packed with him.

The camera had the view finder flipped around so you could watch as Rhett didn’t let up his ministrations of marking your ass, yet this time, using the harsh material of the wooden cross. His stern gaze was fixed directly on you through the screen and you squirmed under his touch. You were unable to break away from his damning gaze and you were completely at his mercy. From however far away you were from Rhett, he would always pull you under with his cold-blooded stare and let it bleed all over you. At the back of your mind, doubt started to cloud you senses. You wondered if you had read this all wrong, especially that night when he chased you through the woods. That was something different entirely. What if he hated you? What if it was too late to—

“Do y’ want to hurt me?” Your voice wavered and babbled out before you had even registered what you’d said. Tears stung in the corners of your eyes from the painful pleasure shooting through your lower back as his cross continued to meet your ass, before it came to a sudden halt and was dropped on the bed. His hands ran soothingly over your now deep rouge coloured flesh.

“Hurt you?” Rhett twisted you by your waist to face him as you stood still in between his thighs. His hands didn’t leave you and the warmth of his palm spread over you to dull the ache that he’d created with the hand of God. “My sweet lamb, I never wan’ to hurt you. I wan’ to love you.”

You looked down at him and blinked away your tears in a flurry. His thumb came up to smooth over your cheeks and wipe them away, feeling your baby hairs on the corner of your jaw. The cobalt blue of Rhett’s eyes reflected in the dim lighting of the Motel room and his prior hardened gaze, had softened entirely. You watched as his eyes traced over your face and every feature you wore. Time stood completely still in this moment, in this particular Motel room, now not far from the West. You started to see Rhett differently, and for the first time since you were a child, you could see a man who wasn’t angry.

“You wanna… love me, right now?” You questioned with hesitation in your voice. You and Rhett had disclosed your love to one another time and time again, but this time, it was different and you weren’t familiar with the sincerity in Rhett’s tone.

“I wan’ fuck you, I wan’ see you on your knees, I wan’ rip this fuckin’ piece off,” his index finger tugged at the band of your garter belt and let it slap against your thigh. “But more than anythin’, I wan’ make love to you.”

“You wanna see me on my knees?” A playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips and you bit down gently onto your bottom lip when Rhett let out a grumbled growl. He delivered one more smack to your ass before pointing over to the camera that had since been forgotten about in the corner of the room. You understood what Rhett was silently implying.

You handed it to him and descended to your knees at the bottom of the bed. You situated yourself neatly in-between Rhett’s thighs and felt the rough tapestry of the Motel carpet scratch at your knees. He brought the lens of the camera up to point directly at the sinful sight below him. He leant back ever so slightly on one arm to allow the view finder to take in every angle of your poised position. “Smile for the camera, my pretty little lamb.” You gazed up at him through your lashes and smiled a sickly sweet smile. A groan got caught in his throat at the sight below him and his cock strained dangerously tight against his jeans. Rhett didn’t have a spare hand and he gestured for you to take the reins. Your hands slinked up his tense thighs and un-did his large belt buckle. It fell to the side with a clang! against the metal. You could already see the bulge outlined underneath his boxers. You had to bite down on your bottom lip to stop the salvia pooling already in your mouth from dribbling out.

“Don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart. Lord knows you’ve had this cock a million times.” Rhett snarked in response to watching your pupils double the size.

“I- I know, it’s just,” you pointed to the camera in Rhett’s hands and stifled a giggle. He cooed and brought his hand to smooth around your cheeks and hold your chin upto him. How his sweet lamb had strayed so far from the flock and ended up in the Lord’s arms, wearing white that barely hid the temptations of your own body. You had come alone into Rhett’s maliciously corrupt arms, from however far away you were before, and he thought it sweet how you were now getting shy.

“Do what your Preacher tells you.” Rhett’s tone was firm and you knew it was the beginning of a stern warning from him. The previous ache on your ass twinged and you were swiftly reminded of the consequences that would follow if you didn’t obey your Preacher.

Your fingers made quick work of freeing his aching cock from the confines of his underwear. A quiet grunt escaped him as he felt your hand clasp around him and squeeze him lightly. He was hot and heavy under your touch and his broad tip was glistening an angry red colour. He momentarily removed your hand and spread your palm in front of his face. He pursed his lips together and a direct line of his spit came into contact with your palm. You wrapped yourself around him again and in steady motions, you ran your lubricated hand over his length, remembering to work your thumb over his sensitive tip, just as he had showed you before.

A now louder grunt bubbled up through his throat, but he was steady enough to still hold the camera in focus of you. Up until this point, you had focused on the engorging sight before you, but Rhett wanted to see you become immoral in his lap. His hand reached up to cup your chin again and tilt your face upwards. His thumb ran along your bottom lip and pushed itself past to press down forcefully on your tongue, jolting your jaw open.

“Out.” Rhett barked. You instinctively pushed your tongue past your lips and let it hang freely. He lowered his head and pursed his lips together again. Another splat of his salvia fell onto your tongue and ran down to the back of your throat. “No more excuses, my pretty whore. Drink down your communion wine.” A shudder ran up the bones of your spine and settled at your neck, with warm beads of sweat already breaking out. A measly whimper came up and out from your throat, but you were left spluttering around the head of Rhett’s cock as his hand gripped onto your head and tugged you down. You swallowed once around him and let the mix of your salvia’s coat his length before sinking down a further few more inches.

The first real groan left him, followed by a greedy curse of your name. The base of your tongue ran under his shaft and traced along a protruding vein. He shuddered at the sensation and resumed his position as before. He was leaning back on one of his arms with the camera angled perfectly against you. You had now sunk down completely to his pubic bone and his soft brown curls tickled at the tip of your nose. You ran your lips back up his length to swirl around his tip a handful of times and then sunk back down. Over and over you repeated this motion, and pride swelled in your chest when the sound of Rhett’s pleasure met your ears.

“Look at me.” Rhett croaked out in-between his stuttered breaths. You peeked up through your lashes and gazed directly into the camera. “Jesus. Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned at the messy sight. Your lips were stretched around his thick girth and your cheeks were painted a rosy blush. Although you were looking up at him and you moved your mouth over his cock, your eyes had crinkled in the corners with your lashes fluttering occasionally. You were clearly trying to keep your eyes on him as instructed, but the tears stinging at your waterline were becoming more prominent, and you were blinking in flurry’s to hold them back.

“‘memeber when I first had y’ in the confessional booth. Look at you now, too far gone on your Preacher’s cock. God made you for me himself.”

A loud moan from yourself vibrated around his cock, although it was muffled as your mouth was currently stuffed full. The guiding praise from Rhett was giving you a new found confidence and you wanted to put on a show for your Preacher. You continued to run your lips all the way down his length and let his tip push at the back of your throat. You could start to taste the bitter salt of his pre-cum forming at his tip, and on each shove to the back of your throat, you let out a crude gagging sound. At each push, Rhett would groan himself and follow with his sweet praises.

“Good girl. That’s it, take your Preacher’s cock. You were made to take me.”

More of your salvia was gathering in your mouth and you let it freely fall from the corners of your lips. It dribbled down your chin and dripped onto the stockings. More would pool and each time your mouth dragged up to Rhett’s tip, his cock would glisten wet.

You had made the best of your efforts to hold your fluttering gaze towards the camera. He looked again into the screen, but this time he let out a low, almost mocking, chuckle. He watched as one or two tears finally spilled over your eyes and streaked down your burning cheeks. The camera could catch everything from his laid back view and he noticed how your thighs were starting to chafe against each other. His lips quirked up into a sly and all knowing smirk.

“Need somethin’?” He berated down towards you. Your eyebrows turned upwards as if to plead for your Preacher. “If you need somethin’, you must pray for it.” You let out a defeated whimper, but Rhett only raised one of his eyebrows as if to question if you were about to become a whiny little brat. “The Lord worked hard to earn His followers respect. You must do the same.”

You pulled off the tip of his cock with a string of salvia connecting from his head to your bottom lip. You started to quietly mumble out, “our Father in heaven—”

“Louder.”

You swallowed down what little left of your pride you had left and raised your voice and octave higher.

“— hallowed be your name;”

“Look ‘ere,” Rhett grabbed a tight fistful of your hair and pulled your head upwards to look at the camera. You quickly blinked back the next flow of tears that threatened to spill over your cheeks and continued.

“Allow me to press my Preacher’s pussy to my Preacher’s boot and feel some relief.”

You decided the cooling stream of your tears over your cheeks would be better than anything right now, as your cheeks flushed in heat with embarrassment from your words. You stared directly into the camera and in unison with Rhett, you finished your fleeting prayer with, “Amen.”

“Good, little lamb.” Rhett grunted and pushed your mouth back down and onto his cock. You felt his boot come between your knees and forcefully kick your thighs open. You accepted the wide girth of his boot greedily and caught your clothed clit on the tip of his boot. Your mouth sank back down to Rhett’s pelvic bone and you ground your hips down eagerly onto the worn leather.

The pressure felt delicious on your aching clit, as you rocked your hips back and forth in a rhythmic motion, similar to the one your mouth was making. You could no longer stifle your needy moans and you let your throat wail in muffled sounds around his strained length.

“I know, angel, I know,” he purred with his hand still coursing through your hair and guiding you. “Feels s’ good, doesn’t it? My pretty pussy got s’ needy.”

The rhythmic motions you were providing Rhett caused him to groan your name softly with each flick of your tongue around his head. His body was hurtling closer towards his definite release, but he still had more that he wanted to capture on camera. With a final grunt, he pulled you off his cock by your hair. You let out a protested cry. The sudden movement had jolted your body and re-directed the ecstasy inducing pressure off your clit.

“Hush, lamb.” Strings of salvia trailed from your lips, with your glassy eyes swimming in your own tears. “You gon’ let your Preacher have you? From the fuckin’ mess you’ve made on my boot, it’d be a sin not to feel my cunt squeezin’ me tight.” You nodded eagerly, perhaps a little too eagerly for Rhett, as it caused him to bark out a laugh, mocking you.

He stood up and you moved with him. He momentarily dropped the camera to the bed as you helped him pull off the rest of his clothes in a flurry. His chest was flush a bright pink, and as he removed the final item of clothing, his cock slapped against his abdomen between your bodies. You followed him like a lamb would to the slaughter, as he lay back on the bed and picked up the camera. He positioned himself to rest up against the pillows so he could hold the camera and keep his gaze fixated on what he was recording. He patted his bare thigh and motioned for you to come over.

“Bet my pretty little pussy was so desperate to come,” Rhett mocked as you pouted ever so slightly. He was right. “C’ ere and sit on your Preacher’s cock. If you put on a good enough show, I’ll let y’ come.”

You let out a languid moan. Your thighs were already burning from the constant grinding on his boot, but like your Preacher had already told you as he marked your ass shades of black and blue, if it feels good, then it can’t be bad. Having a sweet thing like yourself be completely immoral in a stranger’s lap would be something any man would want, yet you could only share this with Rhett. It was something only you, could have the power over.

With this new found confidence, you climbed atop of the Motel bed and slid your underwear off, with the garter belt and stockings still firmly attached. You were going to put on a show that anyone would wish they had.

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy.” You mused Rhett with a small smirk gracing your features as you straddled his waist. You raised your eyebrows to await his response. His spare hand reached round to give a fleeting smack to your ass, causing you to yelp in response, partly due to the already residing marks from earlier.

“Atta girl, you’re learning.” Rhett was quick to quip back at you as you braced one hand on his chest and your other hand reached to grab at his cock. It was silky and warm under the base, and you had no issue gathering the pre-cum that was beading at his swollen tip with your thumb and smoothing it over. You guided his tip to nudge at your entrance, catching your clit on the way and letting out a whimper.

“‘member who’s in charge ‘ere,” Rhett taped at the camera pointing your way and you submitted to putting on an immoral show in your Preachers lap. Both your hands were now bracing his chest as you sank yourself all the way down on his length. Guttural groans escaped you both as Rhett filled you whole. He could feel your warm walls squeeze around him, warmer than usual, yet still all encompassing that it made his toes curl. You squirmed your hips down to meet his, taking his cock all the way to the base and feeling his swollen head nudge not so far from your cervix. Once your walls had fluttered around him and emitted the feeling to memory, you made work of your thighs and bounced gently at first. If it wasn’t for your hands bracing Rhett right now, you would’ve toppled over on him.

Rhett peered through the view finder and watched with his bottom lip gripped tightly between his teeth at the Heaven shattering sight before him. Your eyes were pinched tightly shut, but your lips were parted and letting out an endless string of needy moans. From this angle of you leaning forward, he could register your tongue just teasing at your bottom lip, threatening to fall from your mouth completely as he fucked you closer towards that teetering edge. Your breasts were moving in time with your rhythmic bounces, and your nipples had turned into stiff peaks. The soft colour that matched against the inside of your pussy made drool pool in Rhett’s mouth. From this angle, he couldn’t have a taste, but he could do what he adored most. Make you squirm and whine.

His free fingers reached out and pinched at your hardened nipples to earn a shriek being torn from your throat. He twisted at your right nub harshly and even though cries were tearing from you, you pushed your chest forward to keen into the painful pleasure. He wanted to see more from you, but his ears were zoning in on the sounds you were making and he trusted in his gut feeling to check on you. He removed his hand from your swollen breasts and placed them on your hip to still your rocking motions, the camera going down with it.

His thumb ran soothing circles over your hip bone as if to signal to you to stop for a moment. A soft look had replaced his hardened gaze. “Y’ okay, little lamb? Y’ need to tell me if it’s too much.”

You nodded as you panted heavily. You wet your bottom lip to speak, “promise, Rhett. Feels s’ good, p-please, need you.” A beat went by.

“Safe word?”

“Bull riding.”

Rhett wore a smile to match his softened gaze and he leaned up to press a admiring kiss to your swollen lips. When he pulled away and came back to resume his previous position, picking up the camera in tow, his face shifted back in a flash. It made your cunt clench as it resembled something close to the Devil himself. That something you had seen in the woods.

You resumed your previous ministrations and your hips continued to bounce rhythmically. Rhett wasted no time in wrapping his fingers around your tender nipples and pinching at them gently to elicit further cries from yourself. With one particularly harsh twist from his index finger, your head was thrown back and your hips pushed further. You ground your hips into Rhett’s and you could feel the tip of his cock slide neatly along the sweet, spongy spot, inside of you. The sensation of after burn on your nipples stung deliciously in combination. To soothe yourself you brought one of your own hands up to toy and stroke over your nipples. Your jaw had now gone slack, as your head was thrown back and your chest was rising and falling erratically.

Rhett let out a guttural grunt in response to this sight and shifted his hips to lazily meet yours. “Look at you,” he matched with a lazy drawl in his tone. “Preacher’s best girl, puttin’ on a show for Daddy.” He focused the camera directly onto the sight before him. He didn’t want to miss a single second of this.

With every shift of your hips bouncing on his cock, you could feel your clit bump against his soft curls and occasionally provided a teasingly millimeter of friction. You needed more, but no matter how deep you grounded your hips down, it provided no release and you were left edging yourself. Your thighs were starting to give in entirely, with a thin veil of sweat coating your flesh and chafing against Rhett’s own. Mumbled nothings were falling from your lips with silent cries.

“I- I… Daddy,” you managed to usher out. It was a pitiful plead of mercy for your Daddy. You needed him now. Your own body was failing you with exhaustion. You needed him to take care of you.

Rhett could hear your soft plea, how your voice was failing you and how your hip movements were becoming sloppy. Your mind was teetering on the edge of complete nothingness. It was about to break and run it’s course into a headspace that made you entirely susceptible to causing more harm to yourself than you could really take. But Rhett was there to slow down your de-railing. As God loved him, Rhett was to love and care for you. You were his responsibility and therefore it was his responsibility to catch you gently when you fell softly into that headspace that rendered you completely, fucked, dumb.

The camera was placed on the bed and his hands came up to still your shuddering body. He shushed you gently and breathed out, “alright, my sweet lamb. Let Daddy take care of his best girl.”

His broad palms gripped at your torso and picked you up as if you weighed nothing. He lay you down on the bed with your head facing the end. He carted his fingers through your hair that was falling haphazardly over your forehead and getting stuck in the beads of your sweat that was pooling. He gently cradled your supple cheek and the baby hairs that lay there. His thumb soothed over the heat rising in your cheeks and he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your parted lips.

His own hair tickled at your skin and you hummed into his mouth. Your giggles bubbled to the surface and Rhett reacted with his own. His familiar warmth was surrounding you and encompassing you whole as his lips didn’t stop moving against yours. A taste of a cigarette and lukewarm beer were fading on his tongue, but it was still there, something that ground you closer to your Preacher. Yet, at the same time, it had you falling through the mattress to somewhere safe.

Rhett parted from your swollen lips momentarily and you let out a disappointed whine, turning them into a small pout. You wrapped your hands around the base of his neck and toyed with the damp licks of hair, in an attempt to draw him back to you, but he resisted for a moment. His thumb lifted between you both and ran along your pouted lips, smoothing them out.

“Need y’ to tell me, my sweet lamb. Can you continue?” He purred.

You replied with a, “yes,” and barely above a whisper, with a small nod of your head. To anyone else, your admittance of submission was feeble, but Rhett had you mapped out on the back of his hand. He could read every inch of your body and how it responded to him. He could read this clearly and he followed through by slipping his thumb passed your lips and pressing down on your tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut and suckled down greedily, eager to have anything of Rhett inside of you and filling you whole. He nudged his knelt thigh between your legs and pressed up against your cunt. Your clit was left painfully un-touched by this point and he could feel it throb as you instinctively rubbed yourself up and over his tight muscle. There was a lewd sound of your wetness squishing against him and something of a growl left his throat.

“Jesus, fuckin’ soaked for your Preacher, aren’t you? Nasty, needy, little harlot.” Rhett sneered down at you. His demeanor had switched back to cold-blooded, but you knew you were safe with this version of Rhett and his venomous words only sent shocks to your swollen bundle of nerves. You were desperately chasing your high once again on his thigh, but it was ripped away from you coldly as he pulled away and issued a direct, smack! directly onto your cunt.

This was your fall from grace and two tears finally slipped over your waterline and stung at your warm cheeks. He smoothed them over with his thumb, but in contrast, he only cooed mockingly at you.

“Cry all you want, darlin’. You’re takin’ what I give you. Now—” he got off the bed and retrieved the camera that had fallen to the side. He placed it on the worn out and chipped desk facing the bed and came back to position you. He slid his arm under your back and twisted you so you were now on your hands and knees, facing the camera. He tugged at your scalp and then pinched your chin to direct your gaze directly ahead to the camera. “— smile for your Preacher, sweet girl. You are Daddy’s best girl, after all.”

His words made you squirm and without direction, your back was arched slightly to show Rhett the curvature of your ass. Two of his calloused hands ghosted down your spine and lay at their final resting place on your hips. He squeezed at your tender flesh and let a groan slip at the sight of your glistening cunt.

One hand was removed and fisted at the base of his throbbing cock. He slapped his heavy member against your lips and let it drag through your folds and nudge at your clit. It made lewd sounds, the sounds of your own wet cunt causing your cheeks to return to a dusty red colour. You both moaned together as he let his tip slip past your folds and tease at the beginning of your entrance. You immediately clenched down on him as he slipped the first inch in. You were unable to hold back the string of pathetic whines, and you bucked your hips back to try and chase his length that he was slowly inching in.

“Daddy, p- ‘lease!” Rhett hushed you in an attempt to soothe you, but it was broken by his own grunt as he eventually bottomed out completely inside of you.

“S’ fuckin’ tight for your Preacher, lil’ lamb. Y’ were made for me, weren’t you?” You nodded feebly at the camera ahead of you.

You wrapped yourself warmly around him and clenched tighter as Rhett slowly started to move his hips against you and build a steady rhythm. At each push back in, he nudged deeply at the sweet spot inside of you and it had your knuckles turning white, gripping the thin Motel bed sheets below you and carting you forward with each thrust.

He found a comfortable grip with one hand on your hip as the pace picked up. His other hand found itself buried at the base of your neck and his fingers intertwined to the base hairs that lay there. He grabbed a tight fistful, pulling harshly on your roots with a yelp from yourself. This new found position caused your back to arch further and your hands scrambled on the bedsheets below to try and hold yourself up. That, combined with Rhett’s now brutal thrusts, his thick tip was waging no mercy on your sweet and abused cunt.

It caused you to hold direct eye contact with the camera in front of you, as it documented clearly to anyone who would watch, how your Preacher would ruin his little lamb inch by inch. It was as though he was pulling you apart thread by thread and weaving himself a new found pleasure. You caught a glimpse of Rhett himself in the corner of the mirror, that was situated off to the side of the desk where the camera was sitting and dear God, you had never seen such a prettier sight.

His hair was mused and tussled stray strands of hair fell against his forehead and tickled against his rosy cheeks. There was a small layer of sweat forming already, and nestled deep in the creases of his forehead as his eyebrows knitted tightly together in concentration at sight before him. His piercing eyes that always had you clenching, were trained directly at the sight of his thick cock sliding in and out of you, your own arousal already slicking him and layering at the edges of your lips.

His jaw was set firm, but his lips were slightly parted in comparison to allow for hot puffs of air and guttural grunts. His shoulder muscles, and all the way down to his forearms, were compacted tightly together and bulging. Prodding veins in his forearm were shadowed perfectly in the low light of the Motel room, dusted by his arm hair that grew thicker at the base of his hands. His chest was flush and the rosy pink dusted over his tattoo on his peck, blending into one.

His lips parted further to speak, “look at you, my pretty Western sunshine. I’ve found heaven in you, little lamb.” His voice was hoarse and yet his Southern drawl was still low and boldly coming through, wetted by the gasps of air he was currently letting out. He had found heaven in time where your own Western sunshine met his deep Southern wet. He was lost in it, lost in the feeling, lost in the taste, and he found himself hard-pressed for air and sweating.

The concoction of the reek of sex and sweat hung heavy in the dingy Motel room. Rhett’s pin point accurate thrusts were pushing you closer to the edge that you had so desperately been craving all night. The knot that was settled deep in your lower abdomen was threatening to snap anytime soon, but there was something else missing. Like clockwork, and how well Rhett knew your body like the back of his hand, his hand from your hip slipped down and his rough padded fingers found your aching bundle of nerves. You let out a broken sob and your eyes squeezed tightly shut at finally relishing in the feeling. His thrusts became sloppier as he let your hip go, but his thick cock that was still moving in and out of you, gave no room for error. His fingertips ran calculated circles and you continued to let out broken sounded moans. You were getting louder with each swipe, but you didn’t care. You paid no mind to the other Motel dwellers next door. You were completely unaware that Rhett heard a couple of thuds on the wall next to you. For him, it only added fuel to the Hellfire you were currently drawing him down to.

“Y’ wan’ to come, angel face?” You pathetically whined out a, “yes,” and let out a louder cry when Rhett tugged harshly on your hair to signal at you to open your eyes. Your eyes peeled open and at this admission, the tears that had been stinging on your waterline fell freely. Your pleasure was heightened to a tipping point so high, that you had no idea what would happen when you fell. “Y’ can come, but watch yourself. Watch your fuckin’ pathetic self.” Rhett seethed with condescension laced thick on his tongue.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou…” You babbled out repeatedly in a weak attempt to show your gratitude. You could feel yourself ready to fall. Your skull felt as though it was full with cotton and your eyes completely glazed over as you stared mindlessly into the camera.

Rhett let his fingers swipe continuously over your now completely abused clit, and he felt you clench and twitch around him. “Come. Come for y’ fuckin’ Preacher.”

The mix of his cock still moving with pin point accuracy inside of you, and the swipe of his fingertips, caused you to fall helplessly with the only cord attached to Rhett. Your jaw went slack, unable to hold the drool that cornered in your mouth and it slipped down your chin as your orgasm came and washed over you like a furious tidal wave. The all encompassing and pleasurable feeling started in your abdomen and blossomed outwards to reach each point of your body, setting your nerves alight. It caused your toes to curl tightly inwards at the base of Rhett’s knees and your chest heave furiously, trying to catch up with the labored moans you were currently letting out.

You weren’t aware how tight you were squeezing around Rhett. Whilst caught up in your own storm, you heard him behind you groan and curse your name with a sinisterly sick tone. “Gon’ fill you up, precious lil’ lamb. Gon’ make y’ full of me, y’ want that?” You were vaguely aware of Rhett’s own begging behind you. “Fill this womb with God’s spend, give y’ children of God.”

“Pleasepleaseplease…” You weren’t even sure what you were pleading for at this point. Anything to keep this euphoric feeling going you would settle for. His thrusts became sloppier than before and his cock twitched inside of you. His fingers were still lazily working around your clit and you mewled out at the overstimulation he was causing you. His thrusts were deep and he let out an even deeper, guttural groan, but they turned shallow as you felt his own spend leak inside of you. You squeezed him tightly at this point, as to milk him for all that he was worth. You wanted God’s children to blossom in your womb.

You had admitted defeat and your arms were shaking to try and hold yourself up. You fell forward on the mattress with a pitiful whine. Rhett gulped down air behind you and let out soft groans as his cock soften inside of your wet walls. You winced as he pulled out and you felt a mix of fluids drip from your swollen and puffy lips. Your body thrummed with the coming downs of pleasure and you let your hips fall to the bed when he let go of your frame. You squirmed into the bedsheets, rubbing your flesh over the material in a weak attempt to ground yourself, but there was no need. Warm hands of your Preacher slinked around your waist and drew you up from the mattress.

“My sweet, sweet, beautiful lamb. C’ ere.” His voice was like honey in your ear. The warmth of his breath was causing goosebumps to flesh over your neck. His large, yet damp with sweat, arms encased you against his. You could feel the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat match up to yours as he held you tightly against his chest for a moment. Skin on skin contact like a baby would have with their mother. Your own sweat was mixing together and puffs of his breath coated your warm cheek.

He maneuvered himself to sit against the headboard with one arm wrapped around your trembling body. Tender fingers from his spare hand slinked upwards at the base of your neck. They were far softer in contrast to the ones that were cruelly tugging on your hair before. They reached upwards and brushed the strands of hair that were stuck to your forehead, tucking them gingerly behind your ear. His thumb and index finger cautiously caught your chin and titled your low hanging head to look at him. Your eyelashes fluttered open and you met Rhett’s face with a weary and blissed out smile.

“You okay?” He moved his hand to cradle your jaw as if it was made of glass. His thumb brushed over the stained tears above your rosy cheek.

“Did I do good?” You voice was hoarse and it caused Rhett’s heart to twinge in his chest. You were his responsibility to take care of and he would be damned to Hell if he didn’t.

“M’ love, you did s’ good. M’ s’ proud of you.” Your weary smile was still there, but you seemed to appear proud. “Can I kiss you, sweet lamb?”

“Please, Rhett. Need you.” You called out to him. He was right there in front of you, but you needed your Preacher to wrap you tightly in his arms and wash away your sins down the basin of the Motel sink drain.

Rhett moved his face to be millimeters away from your lips. Barely above a whisper, he reassured you faintly, yet his words were set in stone. “M’ always here. Never goin’ to leave you. You’re mine forever. I love you.”

Your lips brushed against each other when you replied. “Love you too, Rhett.”

He did exactly as you needed. He cleaned you up with his ever tender and cautious touch. He never left your side and you clung tightly to him when his lips met your ears with honeyed words of praise. However, through a force unknown to you, your body was startled and you awoke from the throws of sleep, wrapped tightly up in Rhett’s arms.

Your bleary eyes adjusted to the dim bedside lamp that was still on. The two of you were too exhausted to switch it off after. The sight of the soft light electrified something in you and you were frustratingly, now wide awake, for lack of better word.

You un-tangled yourself from his arms and he shifted against the pillows to lie on his back. One of his arms came up to stretch behind his head, with his bicep muscles contorting shadows in the light. His hair was tousled, and soft strands fell and framed his face in such a way that made your town Preacher look angelic. The ends of his hair tickled at his hardline jaw, with the four day old stubble coming through. The thin cotton Motel bed sheet was falling haphazardly over his frame and his soft curls with the base of his cock, peeked out from underneath. You retrieved the camera and it whirred to life, clicking in places inside as the flashing red button on the front focused on his sleeping frame. Rhett had never looked more beautiful as he slept naked, due to the air con in the Motel room failing you both once again, and you wanted to remember this serene moment for as long as you lived.

You caught your own reflection in the mirror with bleached corners and tainted glass. You let out a quiet gasp in response and zoomed in on the picture through the tiny screen. Painted over your hips and the back of your thighs, were shades of black and blue. They showcased the way Rhett knew how to show his love.

You were oblivious to the fact he heard the room next door beat on the walls while you were face-first down in the bed mere hours ago. You also weren’t aware of Rhett pummeling a stranger to the floor outside the bar across the street from the diner, because the stranger called you a sickly name. The lovesick haze that clouded your vision entirely with Rhett was unforgivable.Trouble was always going to find him and weather you were aware of it or not, so would you with his guidance. If Rhett loved you like he said he did, you would hold a gun to someone’s head if he asked you to.

On some nights, you were alone in the Motel rooms when Rhett was out. You’d sit on the edge of the bed, facing the television, with tears falling over you cheeks and reflecting in the television static. Yet, your tears came from a place of happiness. You had him to hold you each night as you crossed every state line to reach the West. You knew you’d be alright, as you turned off the camera and slid back into the familiar embrace of your Preacher.

He had now rolled over onto his side and you pressed yourself into his bare back that emitted the warmth of a furnace. Your arms wrapped themselves over his ribs and you could feel the steady rhythm of the rise and fall of his lungs. You would cling to him like some love blind addict. You were always itching for your next fix. Always awaiting the dopamine induced high to flood your senses when you were next to him. You wanted to feel him run hot through your veins and hit the sweet spot in your head that would leave you with your eyes rolling back into your skull and begging for more. Always desperate to scream his name as you drove by the gas stations and trailed down the interstate.

“I’m never gonna leave you, baby.” Your voice was barely above a whisper and your lips brushed against Rhett’s flesh on his back, muffling the sound of reassurance. Even if Rhett was to lose what’s left of his depraved and fortified mind, you’d still be right there besides him. You’d ride with him through every Western night you departed on, and you knew that one day, you and Rhett could be ok.

Rhett pulled his truck off to the side of the road and pulled up on the dirt track. You had finally reached the edge after all this time. You wasted no time and flung open the passenger door, inhaling the near costal air deep into your lungs. You had reached the coast.

Rhett joined you and got out to lean against the front of his truck. He hovered slightly as it was still burning hot from the hours of driving. You both took in the view and spotted the far off shoreline in California from the cliff side he was currently parked up at.

“End of the line.”

You spun around from the cliff side railings and walked back to Rhett as he spoke. You had a spring in each step and you planted yourself between his thighs. His arms came round to encase you against his chest with the warm sun beating down on you both. You looked up at him with hope shining in your eyes for the first time in months, “we made it this far.”

Rhett’s eyebrows quirked upwards, before furrowing slightly as he gazed outwards at the land in front of him. The sun caught in his eyes and caused him to squint. This was a new town, a fresh start, where people wouldn’t know either of you and no one would truly know if you went missing. He looked back down at you and his face broke out into an animated and electrified smile. “‘nd look at what I’ve got.” His hold on your waist became tighter and you felt your feet leave the ground. A squeal, followed by laughter, bubbled out from your chest as Rhett span you around. He placed you back down to the dust eventually, “love’s out there, and we can’t leave it be anymore.”

You craned your neck upwards and pressed your palms against his chest to steady your lips that were now millimeters away from his. You whispered, as if no one else was privy to your agreement, “I'll come with you if you're sure it's what you need.” Because you knew, in Rhett’s pickup truck with all of your dumb luck is the only place you’d ever want to be.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch

tagging those who may be interested: @peachystenbrough @sunblchdfly @rhettabbotts @bradshawsbitch @bobfloyds @lewmagoo @sushiwriterhere @sugarcoated-lame

#rhett abbott #preacher!rhett abbott #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott series #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott drabble #lewis pullman #lewis pullman x reader #outer range #outer range fanfic #outer range imagine #outer range x you #outer range x reader #outer range smut #outer range fic #tw: religion #tw: religious themes

[magz]

(Alternatively: march 11 to 17, 2024 week summary for palestine on instagram)

March 15 to March 19, 2024 Palestine Summary. From "Let's Talk Palestine" (instagram broadcast channel). Quote,

March 15, 2024.

Day 161

• UNICEF: 1 in 3 children (31%) under the age of 2 in northern Gaza suffer from acute malnutrition, an escalation from 15.6% in January

• 149 Palestinians killed, 300 injured in Gaza in the past 24 hours

• Netanyahu dismisses Hamas’s ceasefire proposal, despite US stating that it is “within the bounds” of what was discussed + announces war cabinet approved plans for Rafah ground invasion. Israel continues to send mixed signals as they are also set to send delegates for truce talks in Qatar

⚖️ ICJ to begin hearings in early April on Nicaragua’s case against Germany for complicity in genocide in Gaza, per Nicaragua’s request for emergency rulings

🇦🇺 Australia to resume UNRWA funding of $6 million, following internal determination that “UNRWA is not a terrorist organization” despite Israel’s accusations

🔻 Hamas claims 4 Israeli soldiers killed in central Gaza + ground fighting continues in Khan Younis (south Gaza) & targeting of an Israeli armored troop carrier and tank

March 16, 2024.

🗞️ The Palestinian Authority (PA) Prime Minister and his cabinet resigned on Feb 26, while PA President Abbas will stay; a move towards a post-genocide plan to create a ‘unity’ PA gov’t across West Bank & Gaza.

Set up in the 90s, the PA operates as a subcontractor of Israel’s occupation, lessening its financial and political burdens. Today, PA is controlled by Abbas’s US-backed Fatah party, after Gaza split from its control under Hamas in 2007.

Since Oct, US has pushed for Gaza’s return to the governance of a reformed PA, but without elections, as Fatah would likely lose. Rather Abbas claims he’ll appoint a “technocratic government of officials & experts”. He chose a new PM 2 days ago.

But the rhetoric of “Palestinian unity” covers up the plan’s dismissal of popular demands for representative leadership. Palestinians doubt the reforms, overwhelmingly demanding the PA’s dissolution, Abbas’ resignation & PLO elections.

👩‍🏫 Confused about the PA? Read our post: tinyurl.com/4yhr7k67

Day 162

• 1st aid shipment departing Cyprus arrived in Gaza yesterday carrying 200 tons of food, marking 1st Gaza sea shipment since 2005 + planned 2nd ship coordinated by US, UAE, Spain & Japan; but unclear on distribution of aid across Gaza

• Massacre in central Gaza as Israel destroys home, killing 36 Palestinians, incl. kids & pregnant women

🔻 Senior Hamas & Houthi officials hold rare meeting to discuss coordinated action against an Israeli Rafah ground invasion

• Israeli settlers attack homes in Nablus (West Bank), throwing stones & shooting the air + 20 Palestinians abducted in West Bank, incl. some released in Nov. hostage exchange deal

•⁠ ⁠Palestinian Authority (PA) president Abbas accuses Hamas of causing “return of Israeli occupation of Gaza”, essentially blaming Hamas for the ongoing genocide. Was prompted by Hamas criticism of ‘unilateral’ appointment of new PM of the PA (see our last broadcast)

• 63 Palestinians killed, 112 injured in Gaza in past 24 hours

March 17, 2024:

Day 163

🇺🇸⁠ NBC: Biden frustrated over drop in poll numbers in swing states Michigan & Georgia due to his handling of Gaza genocide. Shouting and swearing in a White House meeting, saying he’s doing what is right

•⁠ 19 aid trucks arrive in north Gaza — first convoys to reach the north without incident in 4 months. But aid remains scarce as Israel keeps blocking entry of aid as trucks pile outside Rafah crossing + rate of malnutrition among children under 2 in north doubles in past month

•⁠ 14th Palestinian dies since Oct 7 in Israeli prison following multiple allegations of extreme abusive conditions for Palestinian hostages

🇪🇺⁠ ⁠EU President condemns an Israeli Rafah invasion, joining countless nations to do so like the US & Arab countries

•⁠ Israeli forces abduct 25 Palestinians, incl. a woman with cancer from Gaza & a child in overnight raids in West Bank

•⁠ ⁠92 Palestinians killed, 130 injured in Gaza in past 24 hours

March 18, 2024

Day 164

🚨⁠ Israeli forces raid al-Shifa Hospital, where 30,000 Palestinians are sheltering, shooting snipers at those fleeing despite ordering an evacuation. Al-Shifa has regained minimal functionality since Nov seige, but now unable to treat the injured due to siege. 200+ civilians abducted, incl. Al Jazeera journalist Ismail al-Ghoul & his crew — stripped, blindfolded & taken to unknown location, reporting abuse & beatings

•⁠ 81 Palestinians killed, 116 injured in Gaza in past 24 hours

•⁠ Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC): Famine imminent, expected in north Gaza by May as 70% of its population subject to “catastrophic” starvation; while famine in Khan Yunis, Rafah & Deir Balah by July

•⁠ ⁠Israel recaptures Rawda Abu Ajmiyeh, previously released in Nov hostage exchange deal; 13 Palestinians recaptured, a clear violation of the deal

•⁠ West Bank: 300 homes demolished + 1,640 Palestinians displaced since Oct 7

🇪🇺 EU announces plans to sanction Israeli settlers

👆 Graphic from IPC report on the levels of starvation and food insecurity in Gaza. On the left: current levels of food insecurity in Gaza; on the right: projected food insecurity levels by July

March 19, 2024

📣 We’ve just launched a dedicated page to fundraising for Gazans via our linktr.ee/fundsforgaza initiative. We’ve already facilitated tens of thousands of dollars in donations in the past weeks to families in Gaza.

The people we’re helping fundraise for are not numbers. This is a matter of life or death for people with dreams, passions, and stories like you.

Follow the new page @ fundsforgaza (instagram) to get updates on the fundraisers, share content with others to help fundraisers, and support people in Gaza ❤️🇵🇸

Https://instagram.com/fundsforgaza

#described #in alt text #text post #o post #palestine #sij

[papirouge]

I gave up on being pro life publicly and online. The genocide in the Congo and in Gaza have proved it to me that many western women who run those pro life accounts don’t care for children. Many babies have been lost due to hospital bombings. More children are displaced with no families.

I’ve tried reaching out when they talk about saving children in generic posts because very real babies are losing their lives by IDF terrorism. And I get blocked or I get told “that’s different/ they’re Muslim/they should have left already/I don’t care” over and over and over again. The countless videos are already out that have children begging and crying for their families they lost or the homes that can’t be saved. Some of the worst messages I read criticized and blame the Palestinian men too that they should be protecting the kids, so when they die, it’s actually Palestinians fault. Not the IDF. Meanwhile those “young men” are just teenagers because their parents are dead. The Congolese topic is worst. Many are begging people to stop buying the iPhone 15 to raise awareness over the issues there but I got told by one girl who likes to call herself an anti woke submissive wife that she couldn’t care less about the Congo, she’s going to do whatever her husband wants, if that means ignoring genocide then that’s what she will do too. It’s her god given to have freedom over dead bodies l…

I’m fed up. I’m sick of the hypocrisy. I’m sick of seeing stupid homestead content of how they’re at peace taking care of a home as they purposefully condone genocide. If some hacker group exposed all these “submissive Godly trad wife” accounts as being agents for Israel to distract the west from IDF war crimes, I wouldn’t be surprised the least. Their apathy is demonic

@not-your-average-prolifer is the only pro life blog who passed the vibe check as far as I know. She reblogged posts about the emergency of pregnant women in Palestine and also post about mental health of middle east women. I think she is left leaning (correct me if I'm wrong!) so I'm not surprised to see her with more empathy about whatever's happening to women abroad, unlike Conservatives who are extremely stupid & uneducated when it comes to foreign affairs, if not straight up xenophobic.

I hope for every single Christian I know to never open their mouth about uwu Christianism is from Middle east uwu ever again the next time someone calls Christianism white man's religion or I'll go berserk on them. They better shut up forever. They had no problem to keep their mouth shut witnessing the martyrdom of our brothers - they better keep it that way permanently and stop summoning their struggle once it's convenient to them. YES, they proved they definitely consider Christianism a white man thing, considering our little care they have for our (non white) Christian brothers overseas. They better keep them out of their mouth permanently.

"They're Muslim" it's been well documented that there are Christians in Palestine. But even if they weren't, Christ wants everyone to be saved and accept him as their lord and savior - refusing to extend some basic empathy to people being bombed and killed in their sin is not the way to go. Never forget that Jesus didn't heal or saved only Jews, but also pagans, prostitutes, etc. It's insane how so unemphatic "Christians" have become.

Christian Palestinians are actually some of the oldest Christians - like, where do they those idiots think Jerusalem was?? where did the Pentecost happen? IN MIAMI?? KANSAS?? "They should have left" WHERE?? aren't the ppl pulling out this argument the same crybabies whining about woke culture destroying western civilization? Why didn't they leave the western zone already??? Also aren't they the same against immigration and how men fleeing their country are lazy cowards? so why are they mad at Palestinians sticking to their land?? Damn, Western politicians/diplomacy have the opportunity to do the funniest thing possible and mass import Palestinians in western countries to abide Zionists requirements in Israel 💀

And LOL oh so now Palestinian men are supposed to protect children? what are they supposed to do when the IDF is bombing their house? Take weapons to defend/get back their land and shit? Oh my bad, that makes them terrorists (and let's be clear : what happened on October 7th is unjustifiable but let's not act like the Hamas wasn't called terrorist much earlier than that). It's a damned if you do, damned if you don't. If they do nothing, they're cowards, and if they do, they are terrorists - because in this case, resistance is defiance. Ultimately they just want to deflect from their own lack on empathy and find a rational explanation to that.

Conservative scrotes are the LAST people who should lecture anyone about defending the children when there are acting bullying kids young enough to be their grandchildren calling them wokes, leftists, or whatever. I won't even start about gun violence and how deflective they are about protecting the children only to protect their precious right to carry. Ghouls. They only care abt unborn babies because they are unable to call them out on their bs yet. Once they do, they'll cuss them, call them woke, and all sort of -ists.

On TikTok there was a Christian girl saying how Christians are "too emotional" and how we should keep supporting "God chosen people" (Israel). I already made a post calling out how this "god chosen people " narrative didn't stand now that we were in the NEW COVENANT. But let's follow her train of thought: isn't humankind made from God image? Where do emotions come from? Didn't God himself have emotion? Why? What's the right or wrong place to have emotion? She and all the clown who agreed with her would never be able to reply those questions. We've all seen the videos. I did what I could to avoid them but they're quite unavoidable at this point. What's the correct emotion after seeing 2 kids younger than 10 carrying a third one crying while one of his foot was hanging with only one tendon?? This girl, along with every single Christian unmoved by this disaster has to shut up. Their heart is a stone and they should stop trying to lecture people who still have a heart made of flesh. We're not the same. Christ is PEACE. Not war or violence.

And girl, you really shouldn't even engage with women labelling themselves "anti woke submissive wife" 💀 why would you expect them to care about anything but their idol (husband)? Stay focus on what really matters. Peace and God. We're in the end times and God is slowly but surely unfolding the truth. The masks are slipping. Take note of all the so called who remained silent witnessing satan action, take proper action, and go on.

#answered #Christian

[stcverogers]

AUGUST FIC RECS 1!

what i’ve been reading and obsessing with over the first half of august

this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.

F: fluff A: angst S: smut

𖥻 - series

masterlist

STEVE ROGERS

F: before you go by @world-of-aus 𖥻 steve is a trucker who is stuck in a snowstorm and has to seek refuge in a small inn. one week in the quaint town and he's found himself falling in love with the inn's owner.

F + A: the night we met by @avengerofyourheart 𖥻 one night, that was all you got with steve. years later, he returns and realise that much has changed since.

F: airport scenes always make me cry by @demonpoxballad you and steve watch love, actually

F + A: mirrors by @bonky-n-steeb 𖥻 you're the new PA for steve rogers and as much as he wishes to make a move on you, his ex wife is holding him back.

F + A: no questions asked by @pellucid-constellations steve does what he does out of love

F + A: love and medicine by @just-dreaming-marvel 𖥻 what happens when you start your first day as an intern in your local hospital, only to find out that your one night stand from last night is your new superior.

F: losing composure by @marvelettesassemblenow you lose a bet to bucky and have to dress up as an USO girl

F + A: brooklyn, thursday night by @intrepidacious when the blip happens, steve can't find a single thing to be thankful for on thanksgiving

F: birthday escape by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend the avengers have planned a surprise party for steve and he is determined to not attend it

F + A: by the strength of his heart by @irisofeden hercules rewritten with steve rogers

SEBASTIAN STAN + CHARACTERS

F + A: the last name by @demonpoxballad 𖥻 your last name is all bucky has to remember you by. his memories come back in hitches and he is determined to find you again.

F: new teacher on the block by @galaxy-siren 𖥻 the teachers in midtown high have a wager on whether the english and physics teacher will admit their mutual feelings for each other.

F + A: the two of us by @bucky-bucket-barnes 𖥻 you and bucky investigate the strange occurences of westview. however, you find yourselves getting sucked into the hex.

F + A: no such thing by @sanguineterrain 𖥻 bucky barnes is the absolute bane of your existance. after you interview him for your school's newspaper, he seems to show up everywhere you go.

F: first look by @atlasbarnes bucky never believed in love at first sight till he saw you

F + A: cold by @wvintersoldat you absolutely cannot stand bucky barnes. never have, never will.

F + A: wrong choice, right places by @mvtthewmurdvck 𖥻 falling in love with you was not a part of bucky's job description

FRANK 'THE PUNISHER' CASTLE

F: easy early mornings by @fanboygarcia waking up to frank next to you is the best feeling in the world

S: the game by @chrisevansredbelt two can play that game

S: cute by @jaceyneedsabetterusername to frank, you have always been just a next door neighbour. when you become neighbours again years later, you've become the girl next door

S: kiss it better by @lordabovehelpme frank castle is a gentle lover

S: sit around and miss you by @ohcaptains you would stay at home looking pretty for frank any day

S: west coast by @mrsswaino frank proves just how much he loves you

S: honey by @babybugwrites just. like. honey.

MATTHEW 'DAREDEVIL' MURDOCK

F: large black coffee by @daring-the-devil 𖥻 you own a small cafe in hell's kitchen

F + A: bruises by @goldustwomun no matter how battered and bruised, you will always be there for matt

F: the seven stages of matt murdock’s jealousy by @alrighty-matty matt murdock was not a jealous person. absolutely not.

PIETRO 'QUICKSILVER' MAXIMOFF

F: lumea mea by @tommiruewrites you know pietro loves you, even if you may not be able to understand what he's saying

A: the perfect distraction by @ficnacs you are sucked into wanda's hex

F + A: at the end of the day by @acciopietro pietro reminds you that at the end of the day, you should always put yourself first

F: hidden treasures by @haunteddelusiontale pietro was supposed to be dead, right?

F + A: truly, madly, deeply by @mendesxruel no matter how severe of an argument, pietro still manages to show you how much he loves you

F: seven evil exes by @inpraizeof you recount all seven of your exes to the black widow

ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD

F: welcome home by @anna-phora bob is utterly and fully in love with you

F: things one, two, three, and four by @callsignbob there are four things bob looks forward to everyday

JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

F + A: see you soon by @sunnysidevans you see hangman for the first time in years

F + A: getting even by @lass-that-is-gone jake seresin makes your job ten times more difficult than it should be

S: basic training by @welld0nebaku jake seresin is a sharp shooter

A + S: small doses by @purelyfiction stationed at top gun, you encounter a ghost of your past

A + S: fucked up by @twinklelilstarkey seresin needs to be put in his place

S: make me a... by @sunderlust hangman with a breeding kink

F + A: all bets are off by @rolycolysficrecs guys like jake don't like girls like you

S: competition by @enchanting-eloquence everything is a competition between hangman and rooster

F: caught by @heytheredelilah333 what the hell is jake seresin doing in your bath

F: do you love me by @wishfulwithwine hangman was full of surprises that night

F + A: we're only human by @obsessedasusual where you give jake the reminder that he is only human

MICKEY 'FANBOY' GARCIA + JOAQUÍN TORRES

F: since when? by @callsign-squints since when did fanboy have a wife

F: meeting the team by @peterman-spideyparker this was not how you intended to meet sam and bucky

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x reader #frank castle x reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro x reader #bob floyd x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #fanboy x reader #mickey garcia x reader #claire’s fic recs

[wolfstarshipping]

March Masterlist (Wolfstar Fic Recs)

These are all the fic recs I posted in march, it's a mix between some of my personal/all-time favorites as well as some fics I've just discovered and read more recently that I wanted to share with you all, it's mostly different kinds of AUs and some angst, enjoy!

1. take me as I am by orphan_account, Shira_a (48.494 words, modern AU, demon AU)

2. The Door through the World by Amuly (95.903 words, non-magic AU, fantasy AU)

3. The Long Way Home by hollyivydruzy (177.337 words, modern AU, non-magic AU, university AU)

4. Beneath a Big Blue Sky by eyra (68.298 words, modern AU, non-magic AU)

5. Marauder Ink by jennandblitz (91.312 words, modern AU, non-magic AU, tattoo parlor AU)

6. Staying Strangers by 3amAndCounting (313.586 words, modern AU, non-magic AU, university AU)

7. The Weather Inside by earlybloomingparentheses (ebp-brain) (43.240 words, post hogwarts/first war)

8. Discards by picascribit (76.032 words, modern AU, non-magic AU)

9. Beekeeping in the Daylight by halictus (50.961 words, modern AU, non-magic AU)

10. A Night Off From the War by picascribit (3291 words, first war)

11. Impossible Things by accioromulus (13.952 words, non-magic AU, modern AU)

12. Swing and a Miss: A Secret Santa Tale by sreka (smodernlife) (6444 words, modern AU, non-magic AU)

13. A Dark and Silent Overture by eyra (9664 words, modern AU, boarding school AU)

14. Hold Back the River by mcdynamite (3369 words, marauders era, post-prank)

15. June, and Other Natural Disasters by montparnasse (5524 words, post hogwarts)

16. the time when you were mine by renaissance (9404 words, modern AU, muggle AU)

17. When the Wolf Comes Home by earlybloomingparentheses (2640 words, PoA)

18. No One Can Know by MorlayWritings (5589 words, marauders era, post hogwarts)

19. How Remus Got His Groove Back by RealityShowJunky (42.766 words, modern AU, non-magic AU)

20. As the Moon Knows the Stars by mcdynamite (48.825 words, soulmate AU, everybody lives AU)

21. Pas de Deux in the Upper West Side by wilteddaisy (30.831 words, modern AU, non magic AU, ballet AU)

22. Fits You Well by Snowfilly1 (1027 words, epistolary)

23. Whatever Words I Say by orphan_account (23.656 words, modern AU, non-magic AU, band AU)

24. Heartstones by eyra (4599 words, modern AU, non-magic AU)

25. Remember Me? by moonage___daydream (4146 words, AU, post azkaban)

26. Casanovas of Gryffindor Tower by lostpennies1 (9955 words, marauders era)

27. Apartment 2A by vicariousteria (8558 words, muggle AU, modern AU, musician AU)

28. The Bent by earlybloomingparentheses (40.257 words, wizard AU, everybody lives AU)

29. Found by heartofspells (1320 words, sirius lives AU)

30. Pomegranate by Anonymous (19.700 words, marauders era, different houses AU)

#wolfstar #wolfstar fic rec #wolfstar masterlist #fic recs #rec list #masterlist #march masterlist #remus lupin #sirius black

[hero-israel]

So, heard the christian population of behtlehem has decreased a lot, from 80% in 1948 to less then a fifth today. Why?

Many people blame the occupation, and it certainly hasn't helped. But the answer must include the violent oppression that Christians experienced under dhimmitude going back long before the establishment of Israel. Jordan used its own occupation to violently de-Christianize the West Bank, and after the Palestinian Authority was allowed to take over in the 1990s they brought in new policies of anti-Christian harassment: constantly proclaiming supremacy of sharia law, unequal land sales, or just murdering Christians in the street. The terrorist takeover of the Church of the Nativity in 2002 sent a pretty clear message too.

Here is a long and poignant book excerpt that I encourage you to read in its entirety. It includes Palestinian Christian insights on what they experience from both Israel and the PA, as well as the narrator noting that those Christians have a strong personal-safety incentive to complain publicly much less about the latter.

#Christianity #Palestinian Christians #Palestine #Bethlehem #Israel

[fictionadventurer]

Ranking the Little House museums I've been to:

Carrie Ingalls Museum in Keystone, South Dakota. It's just a couple of schoolhouses with some artifacts and some things to read, but it's completely free, and we weren't expecting it at all, so the surprise gives it a nice boost, especially because you learn that Carrie lived a super interesting life. (She went around to different towns out West and helped their newspaper offices get their printing presses running, and eventually married a widower who was involved with creating Mount Rushmore.) Someone wrote a thesis on her that's there to read. (I wonder if they ever finished their book about her). If you ever visit Mount Rushmore, make sure to check this out, too.

Burr Oak, Iowa. The hotel's still standing and tourable. That's pretty cool and the main reason it ranks so high. (The creepy life-sized pioneer family rag dolls in the entry have made at least one child run away crying, though).

De Smet, South Dakota. Maybe it should be #1, because there are some cool artifacts there, but I'm still miffed we had to hurry through and didn't get to see any of the stuff in the wider town. Pa's Freemason grave gets -10000/10.

Walnut Grove, Minnesota. It's got a nice museum, the creek's still there, the rock is there, child me was pretty thrilled. Everything in town is named "Laura" something, though, which is creepy.

Pepin, Wisconsin. It's just a sign and a weird little shack. Don't bother.

#little house #this is mostly an excuse to tell you about the carrie ingalls museum #though thinking about burr oak is what brought it to mind