2021.10.19 20:48 missfeetandfingers Lick the chocolate cake off my feet
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2021.10.19 20:48 SixteenTimesTheTodd Praise Todd Howard
2021.10.19 20:48 DiamondWarrior_DC Discord
2021.10.19 20:48 RegretTheUsernames Yakuza 0- Best Star (Cabaret Club Czar)
2021.10.19 20:48 Tigerblitzpea215MK10 I have returned
Recently my account has been hacked, so I have no choice but to self destruct my account and now I’m having a fresh new start to my new discord account
submitted by Tigerblitzpea215MK10 to equestriaatwar [link] [comments]
2021.10.19 20:48 Rackcity999 i don’t what do and i’m losing hope
i’m 14 ,5’8 and 225 pounds. when covid first started i was 200 i promised myself i would lose weight. i went on 4 mile walks 3 times a weeks and ate healthy. i got down to 160 and felt amazing then online school started and i didn’t have enough time to excerise and started eating chips and junk food again and i slowly gained the weight back. now i’m back in offline school and weigh 225. my brother went back to college which didn’t help considering he was the person who was buying the healthy food, my mom just buys junk food. everything just seems to not go in my favor. i’ve been trying lose weight again but i just can’t stay consistent . plz help
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2021.10.19 20:48 SixteenTimesTheTodd Praise Todd Howard
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2021.10.19 20:48 B1oodr3d Demon Slayer S02E04 delayed from October 31st to November 7th due to special elections in Japan
|submitted by B1oodr3d to DemonSlayerAnime [link] [comments]|
2021.10.19 20:48 Izmebigt School thoughts
I was wondering what some of your thoughts or experiences are with WGU (Western Governors U). Specifically their BS of Cybersecurity and InfoAssurance degree. I'm interested in pursuing some school for career progression and more knowledge. I have a few certs (Sec+ & A+) and an AS of InfoTech, as well as 6+ years experience in managing IT and Comms (SysAd, Networks, Vuln mgmt, etc).
Has anyone found it to be worth their time and money? Are there better options for online schools when it comes to Infosec? Intersted to hear what some of you think. Cheers!
submitted by Izmebigt to cybersecurity [link] [comments]
2021.10.19 20:48 SixteenTimesTheTodd Praise Todd Howard
2021.10.19 20:48 wastedtime32 50+ card HOF vintage sale, swipe through. All prices are in captions. $1 pwe, $4.50 bmwt.
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2021.10.19 20:48 botbee One of The GOAT's | Metroid Prime - Part 1 (Playing Every Metroid)
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2021.10.19 20:48 Halte1 Sun Tzu
|submitted by Halte1 to antimeme [link] [comments]|
2021.10.19 20:48 Majorhavoc01 What Thresh play is your favorite to do yourself?
2021.10.19 20:48 vmxa Belayed thanks for the quick glance research bar
2021.10.19 20:48 Apprehensive-Bar-934 Assorted platies
I want to breed some platies but worried because at my LFS they sell them as assorted platies with a variety of types in the same tank, if the different types breed won't they eventually have greyish offspring? I'd like for my platies that I buy to not have interbred with different varieties for the sake of maintaining the color. Is this a concern I should have and if so what do I do?
submitted by Apprehensive-Bar-934 to Aquariums [link] [comments]
2021.10.19 20:48 SuperBottle12 Halfway through I decided to make the greesiest, juciest burgers I could make
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2021.10.19 20:48 SixteenTimesTheTodd Praise Todd Howard
2021.10.19 20:48 Jan_ator1620 Cleaning the Pacific ocean
|submitted by Jan_ator1620 to TrashLove [link] [comments]|
2021.10.19 20:48 98363111 advice
(if this post is inapporpriate the n i will quickly take it down) im here to ask for some advice if anyone is willing to help me out.. last night i had a very graphic and long nightmare where i was raped. its now almost midnight and i can still remember every detail. when i finally woke up i still felt almost the ghost of the physi cal details and i still felt extremely panicked. i was shaking and coulldnt breathe and even though its been more than 12 hours i still can t think about the nightmare without shaking and full body butterflies.] all day ive been extremely scared becuas e of this.
this isint the first rape nightmare ive had but this one felt so real that im scared that it was more than a nightmare. is it possible for nightmares to come from forgoten memories? (ill add htat i have had a bad issue with dissociation ever since elemnatary school and currently have very bad mempry issues ehich is the second reasn why im here asking this)
submitted by 98363111 to rape [link] [comments]
2021.10.19 20:48 Suspicious_Juice_734 What is going on with these dildos on tiktok
2021.10.19 20:48 STORYTELLER_13 Miss Vickie's Strays
Some old ladies like me feed stray cats. Whether you call it sympathy for unwanted creatures in general, or because I simply enjoy their company every evening around 7, I like to think I’ve aged into a kind-hearted, respectful human being for anything hungry that happens my way.
You wouldn’t think it to look at me now, but I used to be quite the catch in my early years. Back then, my colleagues at station KRAV—Erudite’s Channel 4 Action News in Lincoln, Nebraska—called me the poster child for career girls. And sure enough, as a head-strong reporter always on the chase for an exclusive, my 30s, 40s, then 50s slipped away with no pronouncement, until I was suddenly one day replaced.
I’d never found time to marry much less have a family. But that’s probably for the best given my current situation.
The Old Farmer’s Almanac predicts a bone-chilling Winter ahead. Worse than the last, it expects. Record-breaking snow accumulations, below-zero temps, and crippling ice storms in store. Thanksgiving lies just ahead and the mercury here in Erudite has started to plunge at night upon its rural populace of 300 or so.
Fortunately for me and my strays, I swung into action early to get prepared.
Every two weeks I drive into town to fill up the truck tank, purchase groceries, pick up cat kibble, and show my face lest folks think me dead living alone in a house that sets off the beaten path. Two months ago, I visited Roberts Farm Supply and Hardware store where I bought a Zippo chrome lighter, a hunting knife, and a chain saw. That’s when I met Luka, maybe age 21 if that. He carried my purchases to the 90s Ford truck I call “Lucy,” and explained that he’d dropped out of college during Summer but planned on returning at some point. Living back home with his parents, he recently snapped up his job at the hardware store to help contribute to the family’s expenses.
“Just so happens I could use some help at the house if you’re interested, Luka.”
“An old barn on my property. A few patch repairs on the roof, an ailing door, and the regular this, that and the other. I’ll pay you well for your time, serve you a hot lunch every day.”
He blinks that excitement only a 20ish boy can pull off when he’s hungry for money and a change of scenery. “Well, hell yeah, Miss Vickie! Guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow morning at six.”
And wouldn’t you know it? I did.
Today, as I wash up the lunch dishes, Luka steps through the kitchen door beaming a broad smile. “Call her done, Miss Vickie.” He pulls off his Cornhusker’s ball cap and swipes a band of sweat from his forehead.
Wiping my hands dry, I shoot him a stern side-eye. “All the hay bundles inside and sorted like I asked?”
“Heater working properly? Did you stock up on propane?”
“New freezer in place? Those things don’t come cheap, you know.”
“All done and ready for your inspection.”
“Good. Thank you, Luka.” I pull out a rubber-banded roll of hundred-dollar bills—about $5,000 if I remember correctly—and stuff it in his hands. “Now, let’s have a slice of apple pie and discuss the next project.”
Before we continue, let’s take a step back to fully understand the dilemma I now face.
On a warm Indian Summer evening back in September, I filled a large tray with cat kibble and a bowl of fresh water then plopped my butt on the porch swing, ready to welcome my regular visitors. At this point, I had seven strays—Rambler (my first), Stripe, MeeMaw, Hustler, Peapod, Mr. Tizzy, and Sampson—each of which would make their individual way here around 7:30 to eat, drink, and curl around my legs in appreciation.
But on this night, Rambler didn’t show.
The next morning, Lucy and I set off to find him, and find him we did. On the dirt drive that connects my property to the town’s only two-lane, I glimpsed something ahead that lay flat and motionless under the moonlight.
There’s nothing unusual about finding the occasional dead animal on my ten acres but something about this looked, even felt, different. I put the truck in park and stepped closer to what I knew to be Rambler, studying the gray and white tufts of what was left of his fur. His eyes had been plucked from his sweet face. His insides were completely gone. Yet there was no blood, prints, or tracks around him that could offer a clue as to his demise. Back at the truck, I scooped up the farm blanket I stow inside Lucy, then gently wrapped the little fellow’s carcass inside. The drive back to the house took only two minutes or so, but in that short amount of time my reporter’s instinct—long retired—suddenly reawakened.
Damnit! I really liked that cat.
Three days passed and three more of my strays failed to appear at dinner time. One right after the other. This time, MeeMaw, Peapod, and Hustler. I discovered them all just as I found Rambler on the same moonlit stretch of dirt road. Eyes gouged. Guts gone. No blood, prints, or tire tracks.
I sat in front of the fire pit out back, spilling tears I didn’t think I was capable of over now four homeless cats no one gave a flying fuck about. But I did. Watching flames lick the last of their hapless souls, my mind scrambled for a logical answer as to who or what was erasing them from my life. In that moment, as flames died to crackling embers, things for me just got personal.
The next morning, I woke with a plan.
Around 7 pm on a Thursday, as the sun began its descent into a wide swath of orange-pink, I donned head-to-toe black and set off on foot with my Zippo lighter, cell phone, flashlight, and the new hunting knife. The latter, just in case. Stripe, Mr. Tizzy, and Sampson hadn’t found their way to the house just yet—still a bit early for them—but I left their nightly food and water just the same.
The overgrowth of tall winter grasses to either side of the drive kept me well hidden as I crept closer to what I’d identified as the kill zone. Crouching into a thick patch of Bluestem where the moon cast its silver glow, I put my cell phone on video capture, and waited.
Minutes ticked by. This night, the wind slept. Nothing moved, cawed, howled, or buzzed in the preternatural silence. Belly down and resting on elbows, I checked my watch—7:28 pm. Funny how the void of all sound can ring so loud. As the seconds passed, my breaths came faster waiting for something I wanted to see and didn’t want to see at the same time.
Then, I caught movement just ahead.
Mr.Tizzy appeared at the foot of the drive, ambling his way toward the house where supper awaited. His displaced hip crooked his walk as he slipped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. I checked the focus on my cell and aimed the camera squarely on his ginger form as he moved closer to the kill zone. The thrum of my heartbeat grew louder against my quickening pulse while I counted off the seconds—one…two…three…four…fi—
Then, the inexplicable.
--Oh, Jesus God, I remember whispering. Am I really seeing this?
Now two weeks before Christmas, I have a situation at the house and call Luka. The town of Erudite is under a snow-storm advisory with nearly four feet of the stuff already on the ground. And the heavens keep delivering more. Luka makes it here three hours later after buying out the grocery store’s inventory of beef, chicken, turkey, and pork.
But that’s no longer enough for what’s out in the barn.
We sit at the kitchen table, cups of coffee between us, thinking hard.
“How about if you move in, Luka? Just until the end of the year so we can get this under control—“
“—Miss Vickie, I don’t know about all this—"
“—Okay, then. Let’s cut to the chase.” I press my hand over his as I watch him grapple with the gravity at hand. “We both need something right now, you and me. You need money to go back to school. I need a solution to the issue in the barn. New Year’s Eve and we’re done.”
Luka’s chin drops to his lap. After a long moment, he lifts his head and fixes his gaze on me. “End game, you swear?”
Back in September as I watched the thing suddenly swoop out of the darkness, I truly believed I had lost my mind. Nothing about this made any plausible sense. I laid paralyzed by the horror unfolding in front of me, questioning everything I knew to be true.
The winged creature—the size of a tiny sparrow covered in a sickly shade of gray and white—landed upon Mr. Tizzy where its four razor-sharp hooks for feet flipped the cat to its back and sliced open the length of his belly. Lying there in the thicket where the moon illuminated this madness, I clapped a hand to my mouth to stop the scream rising to my throat.
Still, I never dropped my cell phone and continued to record the tiny creature as it suddenly lifted its misshapen head skyward and loosened a blood-curdling shriek. That’s when I noticed it had no eyes, only empty white sockets rolling around in the ecstasy of the moment.
“The damn thing’s blind,” I remember thinking.
And just as quick as that thought occurred, the thing opened its mouth revealing tiered jaws of V-shaped teeth before diving back into its prey where it went to work ripping out the cat’s organs and entrails. I dared not move, not even breathe, as it fed and drank.
Then I saw its wings. Transparent black and crackled with blood-filled, spider-like veins. One of them flapped behind the creature’s gray-white body. The other drooped folded in half. With its frenzy over, the monster attempted to fly away. Five, six, seven times, maybe more. But it couldn’t find flight. Not with a damaged wing.
I watched and videoed the creature’s struggle to find flight for another 20 minutes until my cell battery finally died.
It’s now December 278h, four days until the end of the year when Luka will leave me here alone again.
He drags what we’ve agreed to be the last body into the barn where New Rambler waits to feast. This makes nine since the barn repairs in October and includes Luka’s grandfather who—in all honesty—had only weeks to live before Luka put a soft pillow to his face.
New Rambler is fiercely hungry tonight. He rips into the dead man with a quick devour of the innards and eyes and slurps the last drop of blood in minutes.
New Rambler leaves behind nothing. That has never changed.
But he has.
His meal over, I toss Luka a wink at the door of the barn and walk into Rambler’s now eleven arms, where he embraces me like a child to a mother. Which, for better or worse, I have been. The creature now stands at more than eight feet with five heads—each of which possess tiers of fanged teeth and different personalities.
But I have nothing to fear. I feed them.
And for just a few moments I hold this monster tight and as close as I can, where between our six selves we exchange whispers about what’s to come. “Yes,” I tell them, “We have to. There’s no other way.”
I break from my latest strays and head back to Luka waiting outside the barn. He wears a ghostly pallor as we lock gazes, trying to read the other’s mind.
My voice cracks as I ask him for the chainsaw. “End game, Luka. I promised.”
He returns a nod, ready and willing to end this chapter of our collective lives.
“Let’s make this quick,” I whisper. “I love you too much to suffer.”
Luka senses his doom without argument. Without a word, he places the chainsaw in my hands.
“—Miss Vickie, I know this has to be.” A flood of tears tracks down his face. His hands quiver as he brings me close in a hug goodbye.
“Just wanna say thanks for everything you’ve done for me,” Luka whispers in my ear. “This was a whole lot more exciting than working at a damn hardware store.”
The creature and its five heads are growing impatience, ready to feed.
I break from the arms of this dropout college boy, where I’m now focused on the task at hand. Digging into my coat pocket, I pull out the Zippo.
“Commence with the propane, Luka. Then let’s go have ourselves a nice warm slice of pie.”
KRAV, Erudite’s Action 4 News, is here now where the barn behind my house is in flames, close to burning to the ground.
Reporter Tiffany Kersey is on the scene and shoves a microphone in my face as the camera captures the firefighters at work and the raw emotion I’m supposed to display.
“Miss Vickie, how are you feeling right now witnessing the destruction happening behind you?”
I shake my head to play for the camera.
“Well, of course, I’m absolutely devastated. I just thank God my son and I are okay.”
“What’s next for you, ma’am, as you try to rebuild?”
That microphone still in my face.
“For right now,” I tell her, “Just a little time and sympathy.”
submitted by STORYTELLER_13 to nosleep [link] [comments]
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