#The Dust Bowl

[peggy-elise]

Henry Fonda and Jane Darwell in The Grapes of Wrath 1940 🧶

#old hollywood #beauty #romantic drama #historical drama #1940s cinema #henry fonda #jane darwell #john carradine #dorris bowden #the grapes of wrath #the dust bowl #the great depression #john steinbeck

[theblob1958]

"Heavy black clouds of dust rising over the Texas Panhandle, Texas" Photographed by Arthur Rothstein

#the dust bowl #m images #just finished a book on the dust bowl. cant wait to start the other one i have checked out #it's full of pictures so im so excited to look at them #m.txt

[prairie-tales]

Based in Texas, the Devil's Rope Museum is, as the sign above says, a tribute to the invention of barbed wire. Exhibits include a photographic 'History of the Dust Bowl', entanglement wire used in warfare, different styles of barbwire and fencing tools.

#barbed wire #the devil's rope #museum #Texas #the Dust Bowl

[veronicaleighauthor]

The Great Depression

It’s odd to admit that The Great Depression fascinates me, especially since it was a dark period in American history. But it does fascinate me, enough so that I’ve written several short stories and a couple novels (unpublished) based in the era. How people lived, what they ate, how they entertained themselves – most of all how they survived that period – it intrigues me.

Following WWI, during the Roaring Twenties the economy and America thrived. The present and future appeared bright. A few economists predicted that the good times couldn’t last forever, but the world paid little attention. Throughout 1929, there were signs of a slowing economy, and then on October 24th – what is now known as Black Thursday – the stock market crashed. In the following weeks, it was confirmed that the perpetual party of the 1920’s was over and that a new, bleak era was being ushered in.

For the next decade, America and the rest of the world endured the Great Depression. Images of bank closures and people lined up for soup kitchen often crop up in the history books and on the internet. As well as the famous photograph of the careworn mother and her children. My four grandparents lived through the Great Depression and that part of their lives affected their experiences and behavior. Even late in life, they couldn’t shake off those memories. Growing up, I heard countless stories of those days. My grandmother, Margaret, was very candid about the past. She would have just turned twelve when the stock market crashed and she would have been sixteen in 1933, which was considered one of the worst years during the Depression. Her memories were vivid, painting a picture that the history books couldn’t. She was the third of six children – her eldest brother died as a baby – her father was a boiler maker and her mother a housewife. They were a loving Christian family, which is what I believe brought them through the hardest of times. Grandma and her family never went hungry, however, there were many times they didn’t know they’d make ends meet. Yet somehow, they always did.

Hobos would show up on their back porch. A picture of a cat had been drawn on their fence, signaling to other hobos that a kind lady lived there. And my great-grandmother, Edith, was kind, feeding whoever was hungry. If great-grandpa, Charles was present, the visitor would be welcomed in the kitchen to eat and for a nice conversation. Charles always had a job, unfortunately he didn’t always have work and was often sent home. By 1933, his health began to fail and two weeks before Margaret’s sixteenth birthday, he died. Extended family planned to help, by splitting up the family. So-and-So would take Margaret, So-and-So would take Bettie, So-and-So would take Russel…but Edith was adamant: “We may starve together, but we will stay together.” For the remainder of the 1930s, they banded together to survive.

The weather seemed to turn against the country as well. Dust storms struck all over America, costing lives and ruining livelihoods. It soon became known as the Dust Bowl. Lightening accompanied the storms, and folks would hang chains off the bumpers of their cars to prevent them from being stuck. If caught in a dust storm, one would have to cover their face with a cloth and walk backwards against the gusts. Houses had to be shut up tight, windows closed and key holes plugged to prevent the dust from seeping in. But old houses had their crevices and dust would get in somehow. Decades later, Margaret and others who lived through the Dust Bowl, out of habit would place cups and bowls upside down in the cabinets because that is what they did to prevent dust from collecting on their dishes.

Clothing was rarely store bought. Dresses were made from stylishly printed feed sacks, using patterns, and sewn by hand, or by sewing machine. Sweaters and cardigans were knitted or crocheted. Shoes were worn at work and school, but at home if the weather was seasonable, they went barefoot to preserve their shoes. Clothing was patched and mended and passed from one sibling down to another, then onto another family. Like many of that era, Margaret left high school early to work. She was first a maid, then she worked in a number of factories. Her earnings of $4 a week went to the household. Later during WWII, when she earned $16, she was allowed to keep $4 for herself, and felt she was rich.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt was elected president and was eventually voted into office three more terms, holding the position until his death in 1945. After Herbert Hoover, who was oblivious to the suffering of the American people, many trusted Roosevelt would lead the nation through the dark times. His New Deal, his relief programs, his steadiness, his fireside chats were a beacon of hope. His assurances that they had “nothing to fear but fear itself” spoke volumes. Despite his attempts to alleviate the financial woes and troubles of the 1930s, the US didn’t rise out of the Great Depression until the onslaught of WWII.

            Years later, Grandma told me that her life had been a hard one, but it had been good and satisfying. I believe many of that era would say as much. I don’t know if it is the Great Depression that is my favorite era, or if it’s the people who lived during that time. They possessed an indomitable spirit. After the Great Depression, they endured WWII and more or less saved the world. That generation proved to us that whatever trials we may face today, this too shall pass.

#the great depression #the dust bowl #wwii #1930s #american history #family history #family stories

[performing-personhood]

Experiencing a peculiar and deeply autistic complex combination of emotions watching Ken Burns' The Dust Bowl.

For context, I live in Colorado on the very edge of the Great Plains where the grass sea meets the Rocky Mountains.

One of the interviewees described the earth after the topsoil blew away as being as hard as concrete, "you could sweep it just like the floor." And I'm so alarmed to realize that the earth still feels like that here. That is, in fact, verbiage my family has used to describe the terrain on our land, 5 acres just under an hour's drive into the Great Plains and tucked on the backside of the Palmer Divide. "Hard as concrete." Rocks rest atop the earth there. Fossilized wood lays around to be collected like easter eggs.

I'm deeply upset to learn that the plains were once lush with fertile topsoil, because for my whole life they've been arid, sandy, scraggly - a place of fields you would never think to lie down in. A place where the grass is not soft, the earth is not soft, the trees have needles instead of leaves, even what little water can be brought up from the aquafers 450+ feet below ground leave hard, rocky mineral deposits in their wake. Everything is hard to the touch there, prickly, leaving abrasions and stickers and splinters.

I'm experiencing something not unlike grief hearing a survivor describe the plains they moved onto, before the disaster, as having sweet breezes and lush grasses. Because I have never known that land. And I never will.

#the dust bowl #ken burns #ken burns the dust bowl #musings about history #history thoughts #history #american history #autistic rant #just neurodivergent things #actually audhd #climate change #ecology #feelings

[voidingintotheshout]

A few years ago there was an Internet phrase called “peak white person behavior” and it was cliché white person activities, like obsessing about pumpkin spice lattes, listening to NPR, buying everything from Pottery Barn, hating anything spicy, dirty expensive sneakers, things like that. Problematic? Sure.

Here’s the thing: for the last few weeks I have been so in love with watching old Ken Burns documentaries and that feels like peak white person behavior to get super jazzed about Ken Burns documentaries about the dust bowl or the US response to the holocaust or a biopic of the life of Ernest Hemingway, or something like that. 

#ken burns #peak white person behavior #the dust bowl #like it just makes me feel weird inside of my skin is all #because I’m liking some thing everyone assumes I would like and I’m resentful but also projecting

[headspace-hotel]

Sometimes, old American books about trees are all "This tree is unshapely, has ragged and irregular growth and has little economic value." but I was wrong to characterize them all as such, because for every capitalist-minded book about the USA's trees that is like "ough we gotta exploit every living thing" there's also a book like this:

The book is called Our Friends the Trees and it was written in the 1930's and this is the VERY FIRST PARAGRAPH, no introduction no nothing, just going all in taking no prisoners from the very first line and it CONTINUES like this for the WHOLE book there is ZERO chill throughout the whole length of the book

#trees #plants #so true bestie #context: at this time in history the whole of the eastern USA was being clearcut and the dust bowl was happening

[endeavornetwork]

Just realized I never heard an Indigenous Plains perspective on the Dust Bowl. Even watched that whole docu series of PBS and can't remember them talking about or interviewing Natives. Wtf is this.

(Quick search just now yields nothing but an unanswered reddit question and one reddit exhange)

#history #racism #the dust bowl

[yeoldenews]

For all my fellow name nerds out there, I am very pleased to present the second annual "Gloyd Roberson Memorial List of Actual Human Children Who Wrote Letters to Santa in 1920s/30s Oklahoma".

These aren’t all necessarily “weirder than Gloyd” but fall into three rough categories which I’ve dubbed: “that’s got a nice ring to it”, “if I used this in a novel it would be considered too unrealistic” and “you’ve got 5 seconds to name a character that lives in 1920s Oklahoma, GO!”:

Selvyn Atteberry

Dyer Banfield

Bert Baxter

Hilda Bender

Imogene Berry

Heloise Blakely

Burl Boyer

Clyda Pearl Boyington

Okal Brooks

Vada Jo Bricker

Deverett Brumley

Lee Roy Buck

Vivian May Burdue

Donnie Buster

Elmarie Button

Junior Buzzard

Melchor Caldex

Tycene Calhoun

Tiny Bell Callison

Dapalene Caywood

Edney Clopton

Buster Combs

Georgia Countryman

Vantruba Crockett

Alto Day

Buddie DeWayne

Violet Divine

Elwanda Downing

Cletys Durham

Thurlo Epps

Apple Fields

Floyd Fleetwood

Metherine Franklin

Ula Fay French

Wanda Jo Fronterhouse

Irline Fuller

Jack Gritzmaker

J. D. Grizzle

Billie Jean Gulley

Joline Hardcastle

Kaloolah Herrill

Thelias Hatfield

Elva Heavins

Coleman Hewlett

Helen Hillhouse

Virgil Holderby

Katymae Houston

Myree Huffstutlar

Estelline Hurrypack

Blondie Huhm

Lila Lou Jackson

Denver Jones

Vernell Lambert

Sonny Boy Lockart

Dinkey Long (autocorrect really wanted this to be Donkey Kong)

Bamma Lynn

Rep Madden

Standford Mann

Jack Mattingly

Goldia McGee

Madge Messinger

Mauzell Mullins

Jeffie Wayne Muskrat

Archibald Neighbors

Hazel Nickerson

Eulah Oakley

Lyle Oyler

Milburn Partain

Jackson Payne

Montana Phillips

Bobbie Dean Phoenix

Toots Putman

Madonna Mae Rickey

Cyprine Robertson

Juanelle Schneeberger

Billie Jean Sparks

Texanna Smith

Pansy Stetson

Patsy Ruth Stubblefield

Eldon Sweezy

Hoy Trotter

Pearl Vandorien

Leland Weems

Joe Bob West

Wayness Whitely

Buster Wyatt

John Ira Youngblood

Domby Zinn

#feel free to use for any western themed dnd campaigns #or dust bowl romance novels you may be writing #names #oklahoma #1920s #1930s #dnd #long post

[jwood718]

“This, gentlemen, is what I’m talking about...there goes Oklahoma.”

Hugh Bennett, FDR’s soil conservation expert, speaking to U.S. senators concerning relief funding for the High Plains, 1935.

The story has it that Bennett knew a dust cloud would be sweeping across Washington D.C. (he had the weather reports) and delayed a meeting until the senators were in a conference room at just the right time to see the sky grow dark as Oklahoma swept over head.

The Worst Hard Time by Timothy Egan.

#History! #the Dust Bowl

[katytrailcreations]

109 North Kansas Avenue, Kanopolis, Kansas/ThursdayDoors

The Badge Still without air conditioning here at the homeplace. But there is light at the end of the tunnel as tomorrow is repair day. But with the heat, thoughts of looking back at a hot drive in Kansas fits the bill for today’s Thursday Doors. The temp that day a couple weeks ago was 102. We brought that weather home with us apparently. Thanks Kansas. Just a simple, deserted antique store in…

View On WordPress

#2022 #Banjo humor #Dust Storm #June #Kanopolis #kansas photos #The Dust Bowl #Thursday Doors #Twitter #Weather

[sunnymainecoonx]

For some reason it's got an odd effect but honestly that's kinda cool....

Anyways yeah I drew this stupidly fast which um tells me just how much I enjoy drawing for others -^-

@ask-the-cat-cafe

(And the "unedited" version)

#tccdtiys #utmv #sans au #undertale au #dream sans #cross sans #nightmare sans #Ccino sans #epic sans #ink sans #error sans #outer sans #reaper sans #Geno sans #afterdeath #killer sans #horror sans #dust sans #fell sans #swap sans #blueberry sans #classic sans #horror took over the bowl #how tf did I get that effect tho #UwU #dtiys

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Like Real People Do

Halsin x F! Tav

18+ hurt/comfort, tenderness, implied trauma, oral (f!), face riding, fingering (f!), pants cumming (m!), a little shadowheart love at the end. as a treat!

Since fleeing the vampire lord's grasp Tav is settling into a peace she has not known for years. And finds she has a large welcome guest in her perfect exile...

Part 1, Part 2

-

Laying on her back in the grass she felt... happy. Content. A rediscovered feeling since her escape from his grip. The first gusts of night air tickling her face.

The Selune outpost had become her sanctuary, though she was still hesitant about worship. Seen too many messy gods in the flesh to put her faith in them, killed a few too.

In the weeks she had been there she had gotten stronger, her figure filling back out some. Her face a little less haunted. Even her laugh regaining its power. The life slowly dripping back into her.

Even getting closer to the worshippers, all of them recognizing her and waving hello. Of course they still didn't know who she was, her appearance quite different from the days of defending The Gate, and honestly it worked in her favor.

Of course Shadowheart had been with her every step of the way. Holding her on nights she woke shaking. Encouraged her to eat, bringing her the best fruit, a bowl filled to the brim with stew. Cheered her on as she managed her first few pull-ups in years on a tree outside.

Sitting up to breathe in the heady scent of the orchard, she heard a thud behind her. Turning to see warm hazel eyes filled to the brim with adoration, pack dropped in the grass.

"Tav!" Halsin exclaimed, rushing to her. Scooping her up so easily around her thighs. Holding her up high, close to the heavens.

His face split in a joyful smile as he spun her in a circle.

"Easy!" She laughed, his joy infectious. "You're going to make me dizzy!" As if she wasn't already, her heart lit up like a firework.

A few new scars peppered his face, but he still looked good. Really good.

"Your hair!" Tav marveled, taking a lock in her fingers. "It's long!"

Reaching below his clavicle, the chestnut tresses still deftly braided here and there.

"As is yours!" He smiled, gently pulling her long braid over her shoulder. "Impressive!"

She tried to hide the slight discomfort in her eyes. Her hair still something she hadn't processed yet.

"I'm sorry Tav," Seeing the strain in her face he released her braid, the end swinging back down to the base of her spine. His arm still holding aloft. All soft love in his eyes. "I've been so excited to see you I've forgotten myself."

She knew that he knew there was more to her discomfort, but appreciated the out.

"Oak Father preserve me, you are so beautiful. Memories didnt do you justice." One hand cupping her cheek, arm still supporting her around her thighs.

"Oh Gods, you're already going to make me cry." Tav laughed truthfully, biting her lip. "And you're going to have to put me down eventually."

"Allow me some more, please." He laughed, releasing her far down enough that she could wrap her legs around his middle. "My journey has been long and I've been nearly mad with the thought of drinking you in again."

Gods she missed the deep rumble of his voice, a bow pulled across cello strings. Sending tingles down the back of her skull.

She naturally rested her head on his chest, sighing contently. So warm.

"Please take me inside Halsin."

Laying back in a hot bath she melted under his touch. Strong hands massaging her scalp. The air heavy with lavender, rosemary.

It was almost overwhelming, being showered with so much care. After so long of being nothing but a prized posession to feel so loved was nearly too much.

Aware that she was softly crying again Tav chastised herself. Just be here, be with him.

"Would you like me to stop?" Halsin asked gently, hands slowing.

"No, you're perfect." She sighed, closing her eyes again. "I'm just... not used to this anymore. Being treated so well."

He cupped the back of her head, coming around to look in her eyes. "Did he hurt you?"

"Not physically." She winced slightly, not entirely truthful. Flashes of pale hands. Rough. Taking. "I was looked after. Oh he had endless servants to cater to me but there was only possession there, not care. Not love. I couldn't go anywhere without his approval." She laughed coldly. "Couldn't even decide what I wore. I was a glorified doll. One that he would fuck on the side. Just a thing to be paraded around. To do with as he pleases." She blinked, all of it pouring venomous from her.

"Is this...?" He trailed off, lifting her hair from the back of the tub.

"Yes," She sighed bitterly. "He liked it long."

He circled back behind her, braiding it in strong sure strokes. Kissing each tip of her ears.

She leaned back, suddenly so tired again. Would she ever be truly free of him? Would he haunt her body forever?

A sound of cutting jolted her eyes open. A weight pulling away from her head.

She turned as Halsin held a length of braid in his hand. Nearly a meter of it. The remaining falling gently onto the backs of her shoulder blades.

"Halsin!" She gasped, wide eyed.

"He cannot have you anymore." He said, voice barely above a snarl. Eyes glowing gold faintly.

She stared at him in shock.

Rising out of the tub she held both sides of his face roughly and caught his mouth in hers.

His hand gripping her hip, other tangled in her newly free hair he kissed back with restraint. A low growl reverberating from his chest.

Looping her arms around his neck she stood to go to him. He hooked under her thighs and lifted her out easily, not breaking their hold on eachother.

"Oh I'm getting you all wet." She blushed.

"Small price to pay." He chuckled, laying her down on the bed. Pulling the damp tunic off his wide shoulders.

She looked up at him, a thrill in her chest. Gods she had forgotten that he looked like that.

Tav was not a small person, tall, usually quite curvy and muscular. Filling out her clothes in several ways. Though the dark years had thinned her out significantly she was still not a waifish little thing.

But beside him? She was dwarfed. Still a whole head taller than her and twice as wide.

Crawling down to her he trailed warm up to her neck. Mouth devotional on the soft flesh.

She moaned softly, head falling back. Hands wrapping around his shoulders. Spreading her legs to make room for him between.

His calloused hands explored gently, around her hips, her waist. Up the outer side of her thigh. The touch lighting her up, leaving trails of need on her skin.

He was all slow, savoring. The pace making an ache in her pelvis. Driving her mad.

A soft growl in the back of his throat as she scratched lightly at his scalp. Saw his eyes pull closed. A shiver going down his back.

"Is this okay?" She asked softly. Is it okay that I'm broken goods? That I cant love you like you deserve?

"More than okay. Tav you bless me just being in my presence." He smiled, coming up to look in her eyes. Hand cradling the back of her head. "I'm the luckiest man in Faerun to share a bed with you."

She blinked at him, his sweet words so genuine they stung. Wanted to rip herself into pieces and rearrange them into a person who was better at this.

"Careful with the tender words, I'm all sharp edges now." She tried to joke, swallowed at the lump in her throat.

"I dont scare that easily. You are not too much for me." Leaned in to kiss her reassurance. "On Silvanus I swear it."

She melted into his kiss, eyes closing wet before the tears could escape.

"Please touch me Halsin." She urged against him, moving his wide hand to her breast.

He rumbled his approval, moving his warm mouth to her throat. Kissing, pulling, biting. The soft flesh of her neck his domain.

Calloused fingers brushing against her peaks, making her hips squirm. Back and forth across the pads of his fingers.

The teasing touch making her throb, hips arching up into his. His hard length greeting her seeking.

She felt him shiver again, taking her wrists and pushing them in an arc above her head. Snaring them down in one hand.

His free hand pushing down her front, their eyes meeting as he pressed fingers against her hard mound.

She groaned, eyelids lowering but never leaving his.

"Tell me what you want Tav." He urged lowly, fingers swirling slow sure circles. "Where you need me."

She paused. So long since she had been considered. What did she want?

"Put me on my stomach." She whispered. Shocked at her own words, how sure they tumbled out.

He hooked under her hips and easily flipped her, her shocked giggle eliciting a smile from him.

"Hips up." She grinned into the sheets. She felt comfortable, safe with him. A lightness in her chest under the waves of lust.

His arm pulling up on her hips, gripping her ass briefly. Groaning at the soft round flesh pushing between his fingers.

"Go down on me, please." She hushed. Being so direct making her blush.

"Oh yes," He rumbled, clearly more than pleased to fulfill her request.

His mouth met her cunt, licking hot stripes up her center. She choked out a moan. Hands gripping the sheets under her.

His tongue moving in flat dragging strokes, briefly pushing down into her entrance as he passed it.

Her hips already quaking, toes curling. "Ugh, that's so good." She groaned. Pushing back into his mouth.

He rumbled his pleasure deep in his throat, the reverberations against her making her shudder.

Licking tear drop around her clit, coming down to suckle it into his mouth, tongue pulsing.

She almost collapsed, seeing stars. A near indignant whimper leaving her lips.

He was suddenly gone from her and she looked down, dazed.

He had flipped onto his back, long hair splayed halo around him. Jaw coated in her wetness, his eyes flashed up to hers. Pulling encouragement on her thighs towards his parted lips. Pupils slitted, glowing bright gold.

She needed no further prompting, her thighs releasing to his strong hands.

His mouth pulling her in again, now fully devoted to her clit. Suckling and licking hard and insistent. Hand coming up to push inside her above him. Only two but already filling her to the brim, pulsing hooked fingers.

"Oh Gods," She whimpered, the arousal in her pelvis so full it ached. Both his tongue and fingers almost too much. Her hips moving in time with his worship.

She thought she would go mad, a mewling mess. All decorum gone as the pleasure overwhelmed her. Lewd begging moans muffled into the sheets her face was buried in.

He groaned hard into her, the deep sound unfairly pushing her to near edge.

"Fuck, I'm almost-" She warned, the ache pushing into itself, her limbs hot.

As if the his snarl of approval wasnt enough, his hand snapping down on her ass was overkill. The crack of it on the air joining the indecent sounds of his hungry mouth.

She pulled her arms into her body, white knuckled around the sheets, her orgasm hitting her in great violent jolts. Ripping through her, taloned and merciless. She screamed out muffled incoherent pleas into the mattress. His tongue laving up the cum that pushed thick out of her, clearly pleased with his reward, sighing hungrily into her.

Her body tremored rhythmically to his motions, little gasps leaving her in time.

He slid up over her, cradling her back to his wide chest. "Come here to me." He rumbled, pulling her to fall back onto his chest. Laying them down together.

She fell dumb into him, limbs puddled. Still trying to catch her breath. Eyelids fluttering.

"You didnt," She started weakly, gasped words catching. "We didn't get to you..."

He chuckled warmly, vibrating against her back. "No need, I already did."

She blinked, shocked. Focusing found it to be true, a wetness in his trousers.

"Oh," She marveled. Just her pleasure enough to send him over. Bit back a little proud smile.

"Oak Father sustain me, I dont know how I didn't wild shape." He admonished, gently pulling her hair behind her hair.

Her hair. She took a lock in her fingers, staring down at it.

"Tav I'm sorry I did that without consulting you." He sighed, gentle regret pulling in his deep tone.

"No," She stared, awestruck. "No I love it." Craning her neck to look up at him. "I'll think of you when I see it now. Thank you."

His eyes shone with tears, cupping her face. "You honor me." Pushing a soft kiss into her hairline.

"Hey, no crying." She whispered. Turning to press her head into his chest, letting her weight onto him. His hand threading into hers, secure. "Only I get to be a mess, okay?"

He laughed, his heart steady against her ear. A tranquil drum. Pulling her down, her eyes heavy.

"Can you stay? I dont want to be alone tonight." She whispered, eyes closing. Already drifting. Barely hearing his answer.

"I would want for nothing more, my heart."

Standing quiet at the base of a great tree, Shadowheart slid her hand into hers. Both staring down at the mound of small dirt. The night air chirping with insect song.

"I'll admit it," Shadowheart sighed, defeated. "I dont know what rites to speak at a hair funeral."

Tav smiled, squeezing her hand.

"Here we stand to honor the death of Luscious Locks..." Tav started, tone dour.

"Gone but not forgotten." Shadowheart nodded. "They will be released to the great comb in the sky."

Tav laughed. Knocking her head gently into her silver hair.

Great hands sliding over her waist. "Have I missed the reading of the will?"

She leaned back into him smiling, sighed softly at his all encompassing warmth. "Bad news, you didnt inherit anything. Sorry big guy."

He chuckled, planting a quick kiss on the crown of her head.

"You sure we cant talk you into staying another night?" Shadowheart offered, smiling warmly at him.

"Ah dont tempt me, I've already been selfish staying so long. They need me back home, someone's got to read the children their bedtime stories."

"You'll never hear the end of it, I'm sure." Tav teased, turning to hug him tightly. Burying her face in his chest.

"Thank you." She murmured. "For coming, for being here."

"Oh my heart, knowing you are safe here with us again. That will sustain me for quite some time. I'd love for you to visit some day, if you'd allow me some more of your company." His arms around her so steady and perfect she didn't know if she'd have the strength to pull away. She nodded into him.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked low, hand cupping her cheek.

"Mmm okay, just one for the road." She smiled, standing up on toes.

"Of course." He smiled, lips sliding against hers. All smothered fire and longing. A deep hum in his chest.

Pulling away too soon he rested his forehead against hers. Staring deep into her. His love pouring in.

Leaning back with a sigh.

"And you," He boomed, grabbing the back of Shadowheart's neck and planting a strong kiss on her forehead. "Take care of yourself! Of eachother, nothing is more precious."

Shadowheart squeaked, blushing. Tav throwing her a cheeky smile.

Hitching his pack up his shoulders he trailed one more kiss on her knuckles and turned to leave. Waving goodbye good naturedly at the worshippers pretending not to eavesdrop from their windows.

Shadowheart tutted her disapproval, eyes squinting judgment. "So nosy, all of them."

Tav smiled, watching him leave fondly. Turning back to her. "Oh let them have their fun. It can get awful boring around here."

She mock scoffed, hand to chest. "Oh is watching me pray for hours not stimulating enough for you? I'm hurt."

"Well the view is never bad." Tav shrugged, giggling as Shadowheart's hand shot out to pinch her side.

Tav darted around, her agile arms nearly catching her.

"No!" Shadowheart shrieked, laughing loudly. Running down the small ravine, Tav giving chase.

She laughed, breathless. Watching her silver hair bob in front of her. Catching her around the waist in a patch of undergrowth. Both tumbling laughing into the soft ground. Limbs tangled.

Tav kissed her softly, hand cradling her cheek. Shadowheart's gentle moan licking against her lips.

"I think," Tav started, pulling away. "I think I'm happy again." A soft wonder in her voice.

Shadowheart smiled up at her, eyes bright with tears. "And you even got a free haircut."

Tav laughed. "Actually, I think I want to shave the side." She mused, smoothing fingers along her temple. Gaze sliding to her green eyes, mischievous. "Wanna help?"

"Oh yes." Shadowheart's eyes alight, devilish.

"But first. Tell me everything."

~

Part 4

#halsin eating it from the back as oak father intended 😤 #halsin x tav #shadowheart x tav #halsin smut #lyrics from: dust bowl - ethel cain

[prairie-tales]

#the Dust Bowl

[televangelist666]

Frolicking through nature with not a care in the world, I absolutely adore taking photos in the country during summer ♡

#southern gothic #ethel cain #photography #vintage #preachers daughter #photo edit #aestheitcs #m1ne #instant portraits #super 8mm #8mm film #photographers on tumblr #american aesthetic #country #nature #dust bowl #film edit #film phogoraphy #film photography #big ethel energy

[performing-personhood]

"But of all our losses in recent years, the most distressing is the loss of our self-respect. How can we feel that our work here has any dignity or importance when the world places so low a value on the products of our toil?"

Caroline Henderson, Letters from the Dust Bowl

#quotes that stopped me in my tracks #i needed a minute after that one #quotes #good quotes #labor #labor movement #some things never change #caroline henderson #letters from the dust bowl #the dust bowl #the great depression #ken burns #service industry #blue collar #unions work