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#and inspirational image
hairstylesbeauty · 2 years
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spinejackel · 11 months
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What are dead man walking tornadoes? :O
it’s a multi-vortex tornado. i dont remember the tribe it originates from (i think it was cherokee), but there’s a native american legend…? saying? that goes “if you see a man in a tornado, you are about to die.”
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the most infamous shot of a dead man walking tornado hit jarrell, texas in 1997
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it did so much damage to the town it caused the scale that tornados are measured by, the fijita scale, undergo revisions, and it made anchoring buildings in the tornado alley region pretty much mandatory. (it took the entire town off the map. only those who had taken shelter outside of the town or in underground bunkers survived.)
two more examples of dead man walking tornadoes looking like a person are a tornado from 2011 that hit cullman, alabama
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and a tornado from 1975 that hit xenia, ohio
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edit: it has been brought to my attention that the native american “legend” part of this post was a rumor spread by a documentary.
i have been asked to remove it, but i believe in letting my errors stand because i’m not perfect. i make mistakes
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qweenofurheart · 3 months
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he’s the only nineteen year old alive who can pull off that stupid ass outfit. also i think im onto something with the pink pants..
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chiptrillino · 1 year
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ID: Katara and sokka in swimgear. in the first image, sokka is searching for something in the water. his hair getting wet. katara leans over to him saying "don't you think, its time for a haircut?" in the second image sokka rose form the water, a dog-shark creature in hand, swinging his hair in Katara face splashing her. smugly he says "no <3". End ID
i know its winter! i know it likley snowed by now on the northern hemilsphere! but... on the southern side is summer time right??? so... its fine.... this is fine!!!
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!!! please do not use or repost this artwork without permission!!!
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enduracarrotchips · 4 months
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not dead yet
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skyberia · 1 year
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on the agency of puppets
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delicourse · 3 months
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i miss them a little if im gonna be honest
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bucciniexe · 5 months
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(tw: blood, blades, needles...)
Requested by sweet anon <3
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burstfoot · 7 months
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mochasucculent · 1 year
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She!!
Image description courtesy of @anistarrose: digital art of Luz from The Owl House in her Titan form. Instead of her witchy clothes, she wears a t-shirt and green overalls, with claws poking out from her sandals. She's leaping in the air with Stringbean's staff in one hand, laughing and channeling a spell. End description.
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hairstylesbeauty · 1 year
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cursedimagedump · 1 month
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mnemonicmew · 3 days
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I think their dynamics are peak btw
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wuntrum · 3 months
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love you forever jas newport 🎸🎸🎸
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stararch4ngelqueen · 7 months
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Impatience
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Time Written- 5:57 a.m
Jason Todd/fem!reader smut (yes, the helmet comes off)
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His modulated rasps vertebrates along your back, fully plated muscles pressed firmly along against backbone, becoming the hard wall compared the soft mattress you were trapped against.
“How’s it feel, pretty girl? Feel good, huh? Fuuuck, thought of this pretty little pussy since the second I left. Just can’t help myself.”
Euphoric drops refused to stop trailing down your cheeks, blinding your vision from the silk pillow that caught most of your tears.
Six years ago, the idea of him using you as such erratic, heavily erotic stress relief would’ve made you wince with a furious blush.
You were enclosed in, too closed in to slip a hand down in between your sweaty body and the warm mattress to give your clit additional stimulation. Not that you particularly needed it.
His broad hips ground against your plush ass perfectly, heavy balls slapping against your sobbing cunt. The head of his dick perfectly brushing against your cervix nearly nonstop, drawing endless noises from your mouth, ranging from short yelps to loud, drawn out cries.
Red Hood; with a cock so good he knew just how to use it without even trying.
You didn’t go out to dinner the night before and have a man ogle at your choice of black slip dress, with thin silver chains for sleeves.
You didn’t stroll alongside Jason at a downtown Gotham park on a warm summer evening, catching attention via the faint sheen of sweat along your neck, decorating your faint show of cleavage from your tank top.
You most definitely didn’t rouse this man off the edge by your simple choice of sleepwear, a loose white shirt and a cherry, seductive red lace panty.
As if you didn’t purposely wear that for his viewing pleasure.
It wasn’t Jason being jealous, so to say. To put it politely, it was Jason being overbearing.
Chest nearly melted against your back, burly muscles keeping you trapped against soft cushion, his words contracting the brutality of his relentless pace.
“Please, baby,” he grunts, his modulated voice shooting firefly kisses along your skin. “Please, lemme use this pussy. Been a hard night.”
This could’ve happened after he dragged his heavy boots into a hot shower, but no. While he could’ve washed the night’s worth of sweat and grime off his body, yours was the only priority on his mind. All this beast of a man had done was pull grab you by your hips and adjust your body flat, yank himself free from his constrictive pants before stuffing his fat, aching cock between your thighs. His balls full and heavy after hours of aggravated patrol.
The grunt that rumbled through his modulated speaker forced a tingle of fresh slick to seep from your lips as he fucked your thighs, dampening that sexy underwear in seconds. A short chuckle followed after from feeling it, quickly filled out by another groan as he made do with hooking his finger through one of the lace flowers decorated along your ass, anchoring the hole large enough to fully rip the not so affordable fabric.
His gloved hands gripped hold of the back of your shirt collar, yanking the fabric apart in seconds, exposing your bare skin to the cool bedroom air. Scratchy, gloved hands rubbed along your over sensitive nipples before trailing downwards, quickly leaving muted fingerprints along your hips.
Four years of knowing him, one year of missing him, followed by another year of dating him, you knew very well by now that Jason wasn’t as patient as he presented and enforced himself to be.
No, especially not with you.
“Christ, that’s my good little girl, taking this dick like a champ.”
Devilish grunts against your freshly shampooed hair, his musk fully invading your senses as he straddles the back of your hips, bracing his dirty boots along your bedsheets as he fucks you like an expensive whore.
He drew climax after climax from you so very easily, catching your quivering cries in the palm of his gloved hand. Stale gunpowder filled your nose, his meaty forearm playing a rest to keep your head and neck supported.
You weren’t sure when exactly his helmet came off, never registering the dull thud of it carelessly tossed onto the pillow beside yours. Pale, milky eyes glared into yours, reminding you of the persona who’s hands crushed necks and broke bones, now using you as a pretty little cockslut he’d dote on for the rest of the morning after he’s positive you’re fully bred till sunrise.
He halts his persistent thrusting after your body settled into overstimulation, removing his palm to give you a chance to breathe. He didn’t completely stop, using his knees for leverage to grind his pelvis against you, the tip of his aching, perfectly angled cock brushing against all your sensitive spots perfectly.
His lightly stubbled cheek brushed against yours, his wet tongue licking the sickening saltiness of your sweat and tears, gutturally grunting from the lustful ambrosia your body provided him.
He makes a show of biting the tip of his gloved, middle finger out of the corner of your teary eye, spitting his glove off to the side before caressing your side, dipping his fingers underneath your stomach.
Just the slightest brush of his index finger against your long neglected clit made you buck your ass back against his hips, making Jason smirk at your involuntary, full bodied whimper.
“Think you got another one in ya, sweetheart?”
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