#Rain speaks

[fountaincas]

cas and dean are like the north and south poles in terms of how their abandonment issues fundamentally affects their love languages

[dead-man-in-the-grave]

what if life could be a dream?

[itsraining-somewhereelse]

I might not be a girl or a woman anymore, but I will never forget the way that 8 year old me had to wear a t-shirt under her summer sundress. She was told that it would be her fault if a man saw her shoulders and was tempted to sin.

I have seen little kids out in “immodest” clothing: tank tops with dinos, polkadotted short shorts, unicorn crop tops. You know how many of those children I’ve had sinful thoughts about?

None.

Imagine being such a spineless fucking pedophile that you blame the child for daring to have a body.

Remember when the men said to Christ, “the scantily-clad woman is causing us to have impure thoughts!”

They waited to hear “she must cover her body.”

Instead, Christ replied “if your hand betrays you, cut it off; and if your eyes cause you to sin, gouge them out.”

It’s high time to bring that back.

[rainswriting-blog]

Finger Gun

Summary: There was a video circling around your social media page. Of girlfriends finger gunning there significant others butt. Y/N thought it would be funny to try it out on her military partner. What could go wrong?

A/N: Sorry, I haven't been active on this blog, but here's something funny/smutty for you. Hope you enjoy 😉 Might do part two with Simon Riley if this turns out good.

WC: 1,338

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez

Warning(s): safe sex(consensual), no condom, established relationship, nicknames/name calling, cursing, vaginal fingering, vagina slapping, anal punishment, daddy kink, slapping, hair pulling, dom daddy!price, orgasm denial, cum facial, cum eating, marking.

Reblog’s and feedback are appreciated. 18+ minors do not interact

You walked around the shared home trying to find your husband, locating him in your master closet, putting the folded clothes you washed for him away. He was just minding his own business when you slowly crept up behind him, putting your hands in the same position the girl in the video had. 

Hitting him where the sun doesn't shine. He screamed, dropping the clothes he had in his hands. You laughed trying to run, but John was quick to grab your wrist, pushing you to the ground without hurting you with your hands behind your back.

"You think that's funny, eh?" He says into your ear. 

"It was a prank," you say, kicking your legs, trying to break free of your husband's grip. 

John didn't think it was funny at first but he did a small chuggle. He proceeded to pull down your pink leggings without letting your arms go, showing your bare ass giving it a hard slap on the one cheek leaving a red hand mark. 

"Daddy’s gonna teach you a lesson," he says in your other ear. 

He lets go of your arms, making you put them in front of you. Telling you not to move unless you are told to do so. He then grabs your hips, putting your ass into an arch. 

John then runs his one hand along your wet pussy up to your asshole and rubbing it with his thumb making circles, and slowly pushing his thumb into your perky hole. He abruptly stops smacking your ass and giving your ass a squeeze, making you welp.

"This isn't play time, princess," he says.

You laid there with your ass up waiting for instructions. You heard John mess around in a drawer in your closet. The next thing you heard was him unbuckling and unzipping his pants. 

"John, it was a joke. Don't make it something out of nothing," you say, getting out of position, seeing his hardened cock on full display, rubbing a small amount of lube on the tip and base of his cock. 

"Did I say move?" He says in a semi- angry tone. Pushing you down again in the same position he had you in.

He lines himself up with your asshole slowly pushing in and out with only the tip, making sure not to hurt you. "How do you like being poked there, hm?" He says grabbing a chunk of hair from the back of your head pulling you closer to his hairy chest, pushing himself all the way in. 

You anal always made him go feral. He doesn't know why it does. Maybe it's the face you give him everytime he fucks you in your tightest hole or because he loves the tight fit.

John knows your limits, that's why there was always a safe word in place, if he went too far. At the end of the day, it was all about you on your wants and needs for when you and John were intimate. He always made sure you were comfortable. John was your first when you two tried anal for the first time, he made you feel loved and comfortable the first time he entered your tightest hole that was the day you loved anal. You and John loved how he could punish you with anal but also make you feel good at the same time. 

But, in this moment when John was serious about your punishment. He is a captain in the military for christ's sake and he knew how to punish but he knew how to play.

"Mm.. sorry, Daddy," you said in a crying voice to see if he would fall for it. 

"I bet you are, princess, but those tears won't work this time," he says. 

You low key got upset that it didn't work. So, you changed your tone of voice. You moan out as he punted your hole with the head of his cock, you try to grab the carpet underneath you. "You know I like anal, daddy," you say moaning while laughing a little. As you start to rub your clit you receive a harsh slap to your ass making your pussy clinch around nothing. Making him think his punishment wasn't going to work for you this time. But, you were so wrong, he was always ten steps ahead of you. 

"You think it's funny, eh? You think I can't punish you." He says pulling your hand away from your clit and replacing it with his giving your pussy a hard slap making you jerk a little. He pushes his middle and ring finger inside your pussy. 

"Your so fucking wet," he says giving your ear a small nibble. 

"Start moving," he orders. 

You start moving your hips back and forth slowly as John watches your little asshole suck in his cock in and out of you with no problem as he continues to finger your other hole. Something about your pace was making him impatient. 

"You're going to slow," he says, removing his fingers from your hole, grabbing the chunk of hair he already had in his hand even tighter, and grabbing your hip with his free hand.    

As he starts thrusting at a fast pace, making you moan. You quickly grab your husband's thighs digging your nails into his skin. You felt him twitch inside of you and a grunt knowing he was about to cum. You could also feel your high. 

"Fuck, so close" you say 

"Yeah, baby," he says, pulling out quickly just before he was about to unload inside you, he let go of your hair for a moment and pulled you to your knees. 

"John, I was so close," you yelled, hitting his bare thigh. 

"Good, that's your punishment," he said, cocking his head. 

"Open your fucking mouth and look at me," he says, grabbing a fist full of your hair. You did as you were told, sticking your tongue out as you looked up at him with your lustful eyes. 

He stands up, bringing your head close to his cock as he jerks himself off at a fast pace. Shooting his hot cum all over your face and tongue. 

John let's go for your hair, taking a step back to catch his breath and wiping the sweat off his forehead as he saw you licking the cum of your lips leaving the rest you couldn't reach with your tongue.

 You sat down, looking your husband up and down seeing the bloody marks you made with your nails from him pounding your little asshole just seconds ago. 

"Does it hurt?" You say pointing at his thighs.

He chuckles. "It's part of the territory, love" he says. 

"But to answer your question. No, it doesn't hurt at all," he says, pulling up his pants that were at his ankles. 

"Go clean up," he says walking away leaving you there half naked. 

"Really," you say in an annoyed voice while rolling your eyes. 

You get yourself up off the carpeted floor, taking your shirt off that you were wearing, and wiping the rest of the cum off your face, and throwing it in the laundry basket to wash later. You then pick up the folded clothes John threw onto the floor from moments prior to the event that unfolded. 

Whispering under your breath, "asshole."

"What was that," he asks, walking back into the master closet, knowing damn well what you said, but wanted to hear it again. 

"Nothing, Daddy," you say in a low voice. He walks closer to you, close enough for you to feel the air come out of his nose and onto your forehead. Acting all innocent, you wrapping your arms around his abdomen and putting your head on his chest to embrace him. He does the same.Thats until he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder with a nice hard slap to the ass again.  

"Guess I'll have to fuck it out of you," he says leading you to your shared bed. 

Taglist 🏷

@nanamis-wifey-reye

© 2022-2024 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴-𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴 do not copy, modify, translate, or repost any content posted to this blog or claim as your own on any platform.

[cupcakes-n-rainbows]

Using mobility aids is not "setting myself up to fail in my own fantasy." I am not giving in or giving up.

When I say I don't ever see myself without my wheelchair, I'm not giving up. I'm looking up at the future with sparkles in my eyes, watching it all unfold on the movie screen in my mind. And in that future? I'm disabled. I use a wheelchair. I have paralysis. I need help. And in that future? It's beautiful and it's amazing and it's fun, and it isn't hampered or dampened or lessened in worth by four wheels instead of two feet. It's just my future. Yes, it's different than that of an able-bodied person, but everyone's future is different, wheels or not. The help I need and my form of mobility doesn't make my life or my future any less wonderful.

Please, hear me and know me and understand me. Please, listen and truly take it to heart when I tell you that this is my future and this is my life. Not the hope you had for me when I was seven or how I danced when I was ten. That naive child left years ago, locked somewhere within the depths of my mind. She won't be back. I'm not her anymore. I'm not the same as I was, and I never will be.

My story isn't a tragedy. I'm not "too young". I'm not "too smart". I'm not throwing away my "bright future". This is my bright future. This is me, through and through and up and down, forwards and backwards and right and wrong.

Please. Let me live on my wheels rather than die on my feet. It's all I ask.

[purpledamonarch]

ᎣᏏᏲ ᏂᎦᏓ, ᎠᎦᏍᎦ ᏓᏆᏙᎥ ᏔᎵᏍᎦ ᏌᏊ ᏯᏩᏓᏘᏴᏛ ᏥᏣᎳᎩ ᎣᎦᎳᎰᎻ ᏥᏁᎳ.

Hello everyone, my name is Rain, I'm 21 years old. I'm Cherokee from Oklahoma, and I'm a full time student currently with no job. I have art commissions open, but if anyone feels like tossing some money my way my cashapp is $RaggedyRain.

ᎭᎵᎮᎵᏍᏗ ᎠᏂᏴᏫ ᎢᎦ

Happy Indigenous People's Day

ᏩᏙ

Thank you.

[lorelei-system]

They’re emotional flashbacks. It’s not regular depression. It’s not me getting upset about our current life. It’s an emotional flashback. It’s about the past, not the present.

That’s what I just figured out. Took me so by surprise that I actually snapped out of it a little. I feel unlovable because I felt unlovable back then, not because I don’t feel loved now.

-Rain

[rainisawriter]

Cute boys: 😍😊😚❤️

Cute boys with painted nails: 💅🥰🤩😘💞❤️‍🔥

[aasouthteranoswife]

This is my favorite panel of South....

He looks cute with his tongue sticking out after beating the living day lights out of someone

Ran and Rindo are in the background chilling lol

[theseakingsmermaid]

What would your advice be to anyone wanting to make a fun OC for this incredible world you've brought to the surface? (Pun intended)

Hello!! Congrats on being our first ask! 🎉

For character creation, there really is no restriction to species honestly, so it's pretty lax for this world.

I would say the part that I can see intimidate people would be choosing where your character is from ethnicity wise. It would be important to do a bit of research before hand if you're not Asian (or of that specific culture). Obviously your character does not wholly represent that ethnicity so don't stress yourself out too much, but it would be fun to do some research to incorporate some of those traditional fashions/history into that character! It's just the most respectful thing to do.

Once you have that down to pat, you can pretty much go wild with who your character is in this huge mermaid ocean ^^ Have fun!

[rainjacketfoureyes]

It's so funny like, Twitter is going down the toilet, fires are burning, hell hath fury upon thy and so on

while we're just chilling here in our pool, drinking from coconuts in our watermelon themed tubes having a fun little pool party while we watch the elongated muskrat tear the big blue bird into pieces

"Man, sucks to be them." we say

Also Shane and Ryan are there

[fountaincas]

pictures that are in dean winchester’s phone

[dead-man-in-the-grave]

a vex, a watcher, a demon, a vampire, and a moth person enter a bar. inexplicably, they're all riding horses painted to look like race cars. they play level up by jono and tell the bartender and patrons to "buy at boatem", then leave without buying any drinks. the bartender finds out later that there are several bottles missing, a piece of paper reading "I O U" in their place

[itsraining-somewhereelse]

They said the people who left simply didn’t have enough faith,

Lost sheep, sure to be influenced by satan, sure to have sorrow struck deep in their bones, sure to return

I was told that if I stayed in the lines, (clearly painted in red over the messy world) that I would be saved. That if I had enough faith, paid their tithe, went to church, I would be fine. Repeated their words, covered my sinful body, hid away my bad thoughts, I would be accepted. Prayed harder, doubted my doubts, begged forgiveness, I would be loved.

They said the people who left were:

Wrong. 

Bad. 

Evil.

I did nothing wrong. 

I need you to understand, to repeat it, to look at me and know the truth in your bones.

I did nothing wrong. 

I did nothing wrong. 

I did nothing wrong.

I had enough faith, I stayed in the lines, I cried in prayer deep at night, I did nothing wrong. I covered my sinful body, I hid away my bad thoughts, I did nothing wrong. I was a lost sheep only by virtue of being cast out of the flock, banished from their heaven. I did nothing wrong. 

Witness it.

My pain, my hurt, my sorrow.

Witness me. 

They punished and reviled me. 

Witness me. 

They blamed me for my agony.

Witness me. 

They burned me for my imperfections. 

Witness me.

Yet they could not remove me from myself. 

I did nothing wrong.

Witness me.

WITNESS ME.

[rainswriting-blog]

Needed this......

Source: Pinterest and tik tok credit are in the right bottom corner

[cupcakes-n-rainbows]

Chronic pain sucks.

I'm fourteen. I'm young to be here, to be in these communities, to even have fully-formed opinions on things. But I've been here. I've had years to idle and stare at the wall, thinking about all the things I wish I could say in a way abled people would understand. Had years to read blog posts, to quietly seek out disabled role models, to call myself disabled inside my head. Because that's okay. It's who I am.

I hate playing the "Sick Olympics". I've never not been in pain, but it really started when I was eleven. I've been through shit. I have friends who have been through more shit. You can drown in a few inches of water as much as you can in a few feet. I have to remember that.

I'm fourteen. I write. I've been writing since I was eleven. First, it was for fun, to make up little stories to dance in my head. Then, it was to pass the time, sitting in waiting rooms and pre-op and spinning on the never-ending hamster wheel of too much, not enough. Now, it's to express myself. To craft the representation I never saw when I so desperately needed it. To, someday, help others feel seen. I've been told I defy the odds. I'm taking a college class and a high school course load when I should be in 8th grade. I write. I think. I stare at the ceiling. The world passes me by.

There are days when all I can do is curl in a ball. I'll never be normal. I never have been. I'll never have the middle school experience, probably won't have the high school one. I missed two years of school, but somehow stayed grades ahead. My mind is the only part of me that's all mine, and sometimes, I can't talk straight. The fog sets in, and it's like every word has to wade through honey to leave my mouth, to be typed onto my screen. I'm breaking at the seams.

It'll only get worse. This rare disease, what it all stems from, it's degenerative. The glue that holds my body together is faulty. I stretch and I bruise and I hurt, and someday, it feels like I'll disintegrate. I don't know what to do. Sometimes, I'm trapped.

I know what I want to do. I know what holds my heart, my interest, my passion. I know I'll never do it. Some things, you aren't selling yourself short. Some things, it'll just hurt to pretend you could until you have to admit it.

I hope it gets better. I really do.