2021.10.25 14:52 Addisonl3 Can’t Wait Until U used the Code!❤️🔥 Points are being top up!🛑 Hurry and it’s not for long at all!🔆 #FetchRewards. #TopUp #OnCodeWu
|submitted by Addisonl3 to FetchReward [link] [comments]|
2021.10.25 14:52 JolliLolli You know what? Fuck it. Here's day 1 of Hoshi-posting because goddammit he deserves it.
2021.10.25 14:52 Empty_Sea1872 Has anyone told their own mothers they should have aborted them?
I realize that flies in the face of what choice entails, but there are many, many good reasons to end pregnancies.
Yes, I have told my own mother that she should have aborted me. She is pro-choice and against adoption, against moms having children late in life and against having kids with disabilities, and still found that offensive.
submitted by Empty_Sea1872 to prochoice [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:52 Vvisscoo Optic announcement
Yesterday Shottzy answered the question “from 1 to 10 how much closer are we to the announcement?” With a “7”, i bet the announcement is 7 days from yesterday, so the 31st, Halloween
submitted by Vvisscoo to CoDCompetitive [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:52 says-who22 Anyone know what this is? (Not the plant lol)
|submitted by says-who22 to Antiques [link] [comments]|
2021.10.25 14:52 Monechetti Heavy Extra Ham And Sausage And Garlic UnderNeath Pepperoni, Lots of Extra Anchovies, Some Extra Sauce, Extra Napkins, Dressing, Heaps of Extra Little Peppers.
2021.10.25 14:52 DootMuncher Forewarning I'm 21 so I know I'm probably just being overly emotional, but whenever I go out drinking or to bars I always get girls and gay gays come up to me saying things like, "Wow you're really hot for a red head." Or "You're the sexiest ranga Ive seen".
While I know it's better than being called ugly, I'm not joking when I say I've never received a compliment without this cavaet included. I used to be skinny and get bullied for the way I looked so I spent lots of time dieting and in the gym to change my physique. I also get told quite often that I'd be a model if not for "that red hair". Really knocks my self esteem around & I've stopped going out and socialising now because of it.. any tips?
submitted by DootMuncher to Redhair [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:52 c11a5 REM
2021.10.25 14:52 free-UE-tutorials Build A Sci-fi Sand Scene Using Unreal Engine 5
2021.10.25 14:52 Nx0Sec [question] how to find kernel offsets from an already jailbroken device?
2021.10.25 14:52 charitypiephotos ITAP Ferris Wheel in Miami
|submitted by charitypiephotos to itookapicture [link] [comments]|
2021.10.25 14:52 Captain_CrunchYaAss TIFU by assuming STARBUCKS had intelligent workers
I enter the establishment to get some work done and decided a pumpkin spice latte would be magical right about now. So I make my purchase, order a sandwich and decided to also purchase the pretty black and gold cup for sale.
After paying I wait and as the barista calls my name with a face as if he hates his life tells me “Im sorry sir but we cant serve your drink in this cup” of course Im assuming its a size issue or something so i tell him put as much as you can its ok. barista replies “No we just cant serve it to you in this cup” Why? I ask, and this idiot has the audacity to tell me “because of the Delta Variant” ... what? He says the delta variant had us make changes so we serve you in that cup. I didn’t get the memo that Delta had a cup preference. I ask the barista how am I suppose to drink this? In my fuking hand? He says no It has to be in this cup a white cup. I replied, “either your the idiot of idiots or your head needs a scan because what your telling me is I cant drink out of this cup because of the delta? I ask him to explain the science behind this theory, he says “it just is that way” Im laughing in sarcasm of course and ask him to say it again he says “yes delta is the cause of cup choice” I cannot make this shit up. SO i finally take the white cup and staring him him down pour it into my cup as if it were a magic trick a d slowly slide his cup back and he throws it away. i raise my voice and say “Do you see how simple that was numb nuts you still had to make the fuking drink which means if delta is the issue you could pass it if you have it!!! AHHH”
Manager comes out because my shouting and says you have to leave. I kindly ask for the purpose behind the cup debacle and to my ears with such confidence he says “yes the delta variant has a higher chance of sticking to certain cups” lmao bruh. I decided to save my blood pressure and leave.
TL;DR Went to starbucks ordered a drink and purchased a cup but was told they cant serve me in that specific cup because of the Delta Variant
submitted by Captain_CrunchYaAss to tifu [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:52 Erutious Towesey Homestead- The Scarecrows Know
(Part 1- https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/qey0cg/the_towesey_homestead_part_1_the_field_prepares/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)
It started with the appearance of one unaccounted-for scarecrow.
"Brad, where did this scarecrow come from?"
Bradly, my oldest son, came up and looked at the strange scarecrow.
He was sitting in our west field, the cornfield, and he was sharing company with three other scarecrows. These three, however, were ones my sons and I had made in the barn. One bore the long dress my wife had donated to the cause, another bore a set of overalls with a slice up one knee that I had turned over. The third had a shirt and a pair of sweatpants from my middle son, Gregory. These three, I remembered. I should, after all, since I had built each of them.
This one, though, I did not.
It was a tall fellow, a wide boater hat sitting on a sack head with a pair of new-looking blue overalls and a checkered shirt in a dark blue/light blue pattern.
Brad took a long look and shook his head, "Nope, that doesn't look like one of the ones we made, daddy."
I scratched my chin, wondering if maybe it was something one of my other sons had erected, and shrugged it off as nothing.
One more scarecrow wouldn't hurt anything.
The next day, however, there was a new scarecrow in the east field.
My oldest and middle son, Brad and Greg, were with me as we checked the pole beans and weeded the squash when we came across a trampled patch of squash. Three perfect footprints could be seen in the remains of what had once been a large, healthy gourd. I looked around, looking for other squashed remains of vegetables when I saw another new scarecrow. This one was dressed in a slinky black cocktail dress, completed with a pair of strappy pumps at the bottom of the post. Someone had put lipstick and mascara on the burlap sack head to complete the illusion of a woman out for a night on the town..
I called for Greg, wanting him to bring me one of those pumps to check against the squashed gourd. Greg, however, was nowhere to be found. Brad came up instead and hooked one of the shoes, bringing it over almost gingerly. I appreciated his help, but Brad was begging to be under foot a bit too much. He and Greg had always been pretty close, but it seemed the two had had a fall out recently, which meant that he had spent a lot of time glued to my hip instead. I didn’t mind my sons company, but a sixteen year old boy should really be out chasing girls instead of being underfoot. Greg materialized out of the field then, brushing corn silk from his hair, and I wondered when he had had time to get over by the corn? I shrugged it off, holding the pump over the mark to prove what I already suspected.
It was a perfect match.
"What does it mean, Daddy?" asked Brad. He was the oldest but he had always been kind of a scared kid. His brother teased him about it, but I was starting to feel afraid of these things as well. This whole thing was a little creepy; people wandering around and leaving scarecrows in my field at night was more than a little spooky. I looked around the rows of pole beans as though expecting to see someone crouching there and felt a chill that had nothing to do with the autumn chill that was fast approaching.
"I don't know," I said to him, but I intended to find out.
I told my wife about my plans that night, seeing her looking less than enthused.
"So you want to sleep in tomorrow, letting your sons handle that day's duties, so you can keep watch in the hay barn tomorrow night?"
I told her that was the plan.
"Dale, who cares if people are leaving scarecrows in the field? One more scarecrow won't…."
"It's not the scarecrows," I said, cutting her off, "these people are trespassing and damaging my crops. I can't have that."
In the end, she only shrugged and told me to do what I wanted.
As I made my plans, however, it seemed that our mysterious trouble makers were making their own plans.
My sleep ended at about ten o'clock as my oldest came to wake me up.
"Sorry, daddy, but… .you're gonna wanna see this."
He was wrong, I didn't want to see it, but I did need to see it.
Someone had ruined eight of our pumpkins. This wouldn't have been such a loss, we had a whole field of pumpkins, but these pumpkins were in the small field near the barn. This was where we grew our state fair pumpkins. We had planted twenty. Of those twenty, only fifteen had taken. Of those fifteen, only seven were left, and two of those seven would have to be pulled as their roots were trampled.
In the small patch, seven scarecrows made a small circle in their midst.
I helped Brad dispose of the pumpkins. Greg was nowhere to be seen, and calling for him did very little. We had nearly cleaned up all the pumpkins by the time Greg came wandering out of the field to ask what had happened. Greg had been a strange boy as of late. He had always been so happy and outgoing, but this season he had been very moody. He spent a lot of time in the fields, just exploring and being out of the house, and I found myself wondering if he was smoking or maybe he had picked up a habit he didn't want us to know about. My wife said it was just a “a boy hitting that age” and reminded me that Brad had gotten a little moody at thirteen as well. The strangest part was that, sometimes, I almost felt like he was watching me from the crops, keeping tabs on me.
Watching me like I was the intruder.
He helped Brad take the wheelbarrows of smashed pumpkin away and Brad said he could handle the rest from here. They were on special leave from school, due to harvest preparation and he said the two of them could handle the rest today. I was up by then though, my mind angry and my head already making plans, so I told them I would help. We found five more new scarecrows, and that had only made me more furious. What in the hell was going on? Who were these people? Why were they coming onto my farm at night and making a mess of things?
I didn't know, but I intended to find out.
That night, I was sitting in the hay barn with a hunting rifle and a thermos of coffee just after ten as the family was getting good and asleep. I swept around with my binoculars, not really wanting to look through the sight if I didn't need to. I didn't want to shoot anyone if I didn't have to, but I was prepared to fire in the air or near them to scare them. A good scare might convince them that this little joke wasn't worth the effort, and then I could go back to farming in peace. I reached for my cup of coffee, the thermos within easy reach, and that was when I heard it.
From the field, wind rustled through the corn and the pole beans, and I picked up my binoculars to see if it was people in the crops or not. As I scanned, I heard a whispery voice, a spidery voice, and it called to me in the hayloft. I looked around to see if someone was calling up to me, but it was just me and crops out here. It came again then, that low, scuttling voice that told me to come out and walk amongst the corn, to stand amongst the squash.
It told me how nice it would be to walk barefoot in the soil, and, for a moment, it sounded like a good idea.
I had half gotten up to go do just that, and that was when I saw someone vault the back fence.
I shook off the funny mumbling and sighted him in my binoculars. He was bald, a long sleeve work shirt standing dark with sweat and a pair of black slacks that made him look like a floating torso in the dark. He was also Darius McAnn, the bartender at the Cloudy Schooner. What the hell was he doing here? The Schooner didn't even close for another five hours. He should be at work slinging suds and wrangling drunks, not...not….
Not running through my cornfield in the middle of the night.
I climbed down, taking care with the rifle as I sling it over my shoulder, and head out into the corn. My flashlight looked garish as it cuts through the shadows around the corn plants, but I knew that field like the back of my hand. I should, after all, since I've lived here for fifteen years. I've been planting corn, pumpkins, and beans since my oldest was a year old, and this is familiar ground to me. I head out amongst the stalks, hoping to head him off, but he's not where I expect him to be. I stopped, the moon high overhead, and turned in the direction he had been heading. I ran that way, expecting to hear the rustle any second now. Instead, I ran smack into a post.
I looked up the post and felt the hair stand up on my back.
On top of the post was a scarecrow.
A scarecrow dressed in the bartender's clothes and flapping lazily in the light breeze.
As I stood there, I heard others moving through the corn, taking paths at random, running off to do whatever it was that they did that turned them into scarecrows.
I’m not ashamed to say that I took off for the house. If you’ve never been in a tall field of vegetation, with things moving around you, then you may not understand how creepy it is. As I ran, I could see faces in the rows, people peeking through the rows and looking at me from farther out. I thought, for a moment, that some of those faces were even familiar, but, in my fear, I was fit for little more than running flat out for home. I went back inside and locked the door, needing to think about what I had seen, already certain I had fallen asleep in the loft.
When I woke up the next day, slumped across the couch, to find six new scarecrows in the field, I knew it had been no dream.
That afternoon, the Sheriff came to visit me.
Sheriff Dunland bore an unfortunate resemblance to Barney Fife. He had knocked on the door about noon, just as we were sitting down to lunch, and he swaggered into the kitchen with all the pomp his one hundred ten pound body could muster. He made the usual greetings, saying hello to my wife and sons, and then asked if he could steal me away for "just a minute."
"I promise he's not under arrest of nothin."
As we got to the front porch, he was already lighting one of those shitty home-rolled cigarettes.
"Sorry to pull ya out like this, but I'm working a couple of missing person cases, and I was wondering if you'd seen them."
I nodded, telling him I would help if I could and asking who was missing.
"Darius, the bartender at the Schooner, walked off last night under some pretty weird circumstances."
He told me that Darius had been cleaning glasses, serving the same six barflies he'd been serving since nine when he had suddenly looked out the batwings and walked out. The regulars hadn't thought much of it, but then he never came back to close up. "He's not at home, and he's not at the bar, so we're very curious as to where he might be," he said as he pitched his cigarette into the dirt.
I asked him what this had to do with me.
"Well, his truck is parked near the fence to your east field, so we was wondering if maybe you had seen him?"
That threw me. I hadn't even noticed the truck. I haven't yet been out to the east field today, so that wasn't altogether surprising, but it did explain how he had gotten to my house so quickly. I told the Sheriff that people had been coming out to leave Scarecrows on my property, probably a Halloween prank, but that they had been destroying my crops in the process. I said I thought I had seen him last night, even took him out to see the scarecrows, but he only shrugged and rolled a new cigarette.
"Sounds like kids playing tricks. I still can't imagine what Darius was doing in your field, but I still need to find him. If he should happen to turn up, you'll let me know, right?"
I told him I would, and he left by way of the east field.
When I came back, Thomas, my youngest, was sitting on the porch and looking out at the field. Thomas was six and not really old enough to help much in the fields. He tried though, he wanted to be just like his old man. He was a good boy.
I sat next to him on the swing and looked out at the fields too.
"Whatcha looking at, kiddo?"
"Just listening to them talk."
That made me furrow my brow a little, "Who." I asked, trying to hear what he was talking about.
"The scarecrows," he said, not taking his eyes of the crops as they swayed in the breeze, "cant you hear them?"
I looked out at the corn, the pole beans, the fields of produce, and shuddered a little as I watched the breeze play amongst it. I suppose I could hear something, something like I had heard the night before. It was a strange kind of whispering. I could hear it amongst the rattle of stray husk or the chuckle of bending stalks, but there was a harsher noise too. The creaking of old wooden stalks was audible in the wind now, too, and their chorus spoke of something very different. The call to the earth, the love of the land, the coming of the cold.
The coming of the Green.
I shook my head and told Thomas not to stay out here too long.
That night I was back in the barn, keeping watch over the crops. I didn't need the coffee tonight. I had only to think back on what my son had said and remember what I had heard scuttle through the fields to keep my spine chilled. Autumn was in the air, and it sounded as if the spirits were at work. City folk sometimes forget that fall is a time of growth but also a time of loss. We lay back to prepare for the coming winter, but the earth must also prepare for that hard freeze.
Sometimes, the earth is greedier than even we can imagine.
They started coming in at about eleven.
I could see them parting the corn as they ran. I tried to follow them with my binoculars, but it was in vain. I would lose sight of them, only to find a scarecrow a moment later. I was becoming frustrated because they never popped back up, and the scarecrows would go up. But how were they getting out again? They would make such a production of going into the field, only to disappear. What the hell was going on? Were they burrowing out like moles?
Then a screen door opened, and my attention was pulled back to my house.
I saw a little ghost in a long nightshirt streak into the cropland, his bare feet smacking the cold earth. I called out to him, but he never stopped. I cried out pitifully as he entered the corn, but he was gone amongst it in an instant. Not thinking about the fall, I leaped from the loft and thankfully landed in some deep hay. I was out and running in an instant, bolting for the place I had seen him disappear.
I was hot on Thomases heels as he dashed into the thick rows. His little nightgown, one of my old undershirts, flew behind him like a cape. Despite my long legs, he stayed one step ahead of me, and as we came into a patch of moonlight, I saw that he had stopped and stumbled to a halt myself. To this day, I don't know what I didn't just grab him. He was barely five feet away. I could have just reached out and grabbed him.
Instead, I was almost transfixed as the sounds of those scarecrows rustled around us.
"He comes with the wind."
"He comes with the cold."
"He comes with the harvest."
"He demands his sacrifice."
The words swirled around me, echoing in my head, carried by the wind, and they buffeted me like an angry sea.
My son turned to look at me, his eyes reflecting the light of the moon.
"The Green Man comes," he whispered, his voice high and cherubic.
Then, he simply sank into the ground, and I heard a scream rocket up my throat as he disappeared beneath the soil.
No matter how long I clawed at the earth, I could not find him.
After I'd dug a furrow four feet deep and still not found a trace of him, I was forced to give up.
It wasn't until I turned my back to go that I heard the creak of a wooden post.
The little scarecrow on the post was dressed only in my son's nightshirt, his charcoal face almost cherubic.
submitted by Erutious to spooky_stories [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:52 Eljoj Trading those for full grown queen bee(potions doesn't matter)
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2021.10.25 14:52 swallowpeaches This sub looks empty but I’m super excited about my booty gains so far
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2021.10.25 14:52 laundryprobs CS 3410 thoughts? Workload? Are the contents difficult to understand?
2021.10.25 14:52 OneLurkerOnReddit In a chaotic election, Jackson wins another term as the Bucktails crumble. Jackson, Adams, Sergeant, and Biddle all pick up states in the general election, as the Free Soilers, Democratic-Republicans, and Anti-Masons grab more seats in the House. | Pax Francia?
|submitted by OneLurkerOnReddit to AlternateHistory [link] [comments]|
2021.10.25 14:52 daevilsins_6 Literally....
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2021.10.25 14:52 Independent-Lake1703 An absolute favorite of mine! Dayfall Belgian White by Stone Brewing 🤤🙏🏻 I could drink this religiously! Cheers to a great week ahead! 🍻
|submitted by Independent-Lake1703 to showerbeer [link] [comments]|
2021.10.25 14:52 delmontyb Is Yoshi-P Holding an ACE up his sleeve with Endwalker?
2021.10.25 14:52 Rpnjerk College dorm hotties (iktr)
|submitted by Rpnjerk to HotGirlNextDoor [link] [comments]|
2021.10.25 14:52 MadSteve666 When you realise it
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2021.10.25 14:52 liltigas Melhor cartão para efetuar pagamentos/levantamentos nos EUA
Vou fazer uma viagem pelos EUA e gostava de saber qual o melhor cartão para efetuar pagamentos/levantamentos e pagar o mínimo possível em taxas. Já ouvi falar no N26 e no Revolut, no entanto reparei que ambos tem limites baixos até começarem a cobrar taxas nos levantamentos.
Alguém com mais conhecimento na matéria consegue ajudar?
submitted by liltigas to literaciafinanceira [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:52 ShrimplyPibblesHeart [Adam Pacitti] “Hearing reports that Charlotte Flair called Becky Lynch's mum a slag and says she's no longer invited to her birthday party.”
2021.10.25 14:52 More_Double_5360 Weather widget
Why do i always get the message that location permission is needed for the weather widget when it already has all permission? i already tried refreshing it, i tried to turn the location permission off and on again but nothing happens.
submitted by More_Double_5360 to Android12 [link] [comments]