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bakutae · 4 years

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bnha headcanons #4

today’s menu:

bakugou katsuki with a dollop of shouto todoroki

scenario:

where you try to cook dinner for him

prompt:

‘i love you, so much, but please stop trying to cook me dinner. you suck.’

bakugou katsuki

it wasn’t a special occasion but you wanted to cook, and you shall

who would go against that?

well, bakugou did

you two had been together for quite some time now and you even shared an apartment together

there were times where you felt... well, experimental in the kitchen and wanted bakugou to come home to warm, delicious home cooked dinner after a long day

calling your cooking skills bad was an understatement

it was absolutely horrendous

you tried making curry once, instant curry, to be exact

how did you even mess up instant curry? it's literally just pouring water into it and stirring and adding your ingredients that you want in the curry

well, firstly, you added too little water and you boiled the curry for too long, causing most of the water content to evaporate and more paste like from the curry powder

you didn't mix the curry while it was boiling- it wasn't in the instructions though! how were you supposed to know that? and adding on the fact that most of the water content evaporated, you ended up with burnt curry

i mean hey, more char is added into your dish which makes it more flavorful..right?

bakugou came home to the smell of burning and at first he thought a fire was occurring somewhere and him being a top hero and all, was obviously on high alert in case anyone needed help

but when he took a closer sniff, he realised that it was coming from the kitchen

he peeked inside the kitchen and saw you trying to scrape the burnt curry off the saucepan, mumbling to yourself on how stupid you were for not using a non stick pan instead

he then shifted his glance to the plate next to the dishwasher and squinted

the curry looked..burnt and lumpy and it didn't look like it was edible

but bakugou didn't think much of it, how bad could it be?

it wasn't long before he wrapped his arms around your hips and snuggled his face into your neck, sighing in content, causing you to squeal from his hot breath on your neck

and well, long story short, it didn't taste nice, and ended up having pizza delivered for dinner, asking the delivery man to throw out the saucepan that could not be revived

of course you tipped the delivery man, it would be rude not to

this time, you wanted to go for something more ambitious; filet mignon

you couldn't help it, you were doing some grocery shopping and just so happened to drop by the meat section and saw a huge thirty percent discount on the meat

it was calling out to you, dancing on the shelves, waiting for you to pick them up

or at least that's what you told bakugou

bakugou rolled his eyes as he tried to take over the kitchen

he was a fantastic cook, actually and he didn't want to see the poor beef be served in such a pitiful way

however, you shoved him out from the kitchen telling him that everything will be alright and told him to go talk to kirishima or something if he was bored

you first added salt and pepper to both sides of the meat, carefully massaging it into the meat to make sure the the salt and pepper really make the meat flavourful and that your massaging would make the meat even more tender

you then tossed the meat into a saucepan, a new one this time since your old one got uh destroyed

you waited for a few minutes before flipping it over; or trying to flip it over

you had done it again

the meat was firmly stuck to the bottom of the saucepan as you panicked

the heat was still on and you didn't want to burn that side so you quickly turned off the heat and tried to quickly move the saucepan to a flat, cooler surface

the saucepan handle was metal, and since the saucepan was already quite hot, you held it without thinking and pain shot through your hand as you quickly let go of the saucepan, your beef falling on the floor, half cooked and probably burnt on the other side

bakugou heard the ruckus and came flying to you, worried that you got yourself injured in the process

he certainly didn’t expect the sight that he saw

you, with a shocked look on your face, hair all messed up and sticking to your neck from sweat

the meat, on the floor, contaminated with all sorts of germs, visibly stuck to the saucepan since the saucepan was tilted in a ninety degrees

he burst out laughing

'oh my god- pfft y/n, oh y/n darling, i love you, so much, but please stop trying to cook me dinner. you suck'

you pouted and your fingers went to nip at the corner of your top as you tried to defend yourself

'i forgot to butter the pan suki, maybe we should just get a non-stick pan and everything will be okay'

bakugou helped you with cleaning up

needless to say, you ended up another night with pizza delivered and once again, asking the delivery man, once again to help throw out the saucepan with the meat still stuck on it

shouto todoroki

it was your anniversary today and shouto wanted to prepare something special for the day

he knew how much you absolutely loved food, so he decided to make you a homemade meal for dinner

this guy actually took months to come up with the dishes that he was making

in his mind, he was envisioning a romantic candlelit dinner, with homemade aglio e olio and a side of mashed potatoes

shouto had no experience in cooking at all, he had never even held a kitchen knife in his entire life, except when thieves are threatening him with knifes and he coolly freezes them and slips the knife out of their hands, but that was it

he didn't think it'd be hard at all since he did some research on how to make aglio e olio and it did seem like one of the easier foods to make for beginners

it only needed the pasta noodles, garlic, salt and pepper, parsley and red pepper flakes- easy enough

he already had the ingredients needed, all he needed to do was to get you out of the house, which was easy

he gave you a long list and requested you to get them at the grocery store that was quite far from your place

at first, you insisted that shouto go with you

you were aware that it was your anniversary and shouto seemed to have forgotten about it

even so, you wanted to spend time with shouto, but he was so insistent that you go alone that you left alone, starting to feel down as you slipped on your shoes ad left with a sigh

shouto heard it, and he felt so guilty for making you upset, but he had to get cooking

he hurriedly tried to boil the water and he waited for the water to boil

when the water was boiling rapidly, he casually tossed the noodles in, watching as the noodles started to bend and sink deeper into the boiling water

he didn’t know how long to cook it for, and therefore decided to search it up on the internet

just then, he received a call from you

he picked up and you told him that the list was unclear and that the sprinkles in the supermarket had many types; striped ones, those in the shape of a heart and those rounded ones

he scratched his head as he wondered if he really did write down sprinkles; he had forgotten, as at that time he was just writing down anything that came to mind, focused on getting you out of the house

a smile crept onto his lips as he envisioned you staring at the packets of sprinkles in confusion and wondering which one to pick

‘shouto? why are you giggling?’

he snapped out of it and told you to buy whichever you liked best and then ended the call

his phone screen was on google, which the question ‘how long do i cook pasta for’ in the search tab

that was when he remembered what he was doing before you called

he slowly tore his eyes off the phone and peered inside the pot

great, at least it hasn’t been boiled into one lump of dough yet

he quickly turned off the heat and poured the water out, then took a strand and placed it into his mouth

it was melting in his mouth, the moment he placed it into his mouth, he could barely bite it before it was swallowable

it was far from al dente; and he still had to fry it in the pan with the other ingredients after this

he was at a lost, and decided to toss everything into the pan with some olive oil in it

the scent of garlic invaded shouto’s senses and he sighed, it smelt nice, at least

when he tried to stir the noodles, it started breaking and it looked a lot less appealing, but again, it smelt great

he absentmindedly stirred the noodles, waiting for the garlic to be cooked as it sizzled furiously in the pan

he then heard the sound of keys, followed by the sound of you opening the door

oh my gosh, you were back already? he was sure you’d take quite some time with the groceries since there was a lot of things to buy

he ran to the door to greet you, and saw you carrying at least four plastic bags on each arm and he ran to help you

‘y-y/n? why’re you home so quick?’

‘oh shouto, the grocery store is basically my second home, i know my way around’

he decided to tell you his plan, since it had already fell through

you grinned, so wide it almost scared shouto

‘i thought you forgot about our anniversary!’

you enveloped him in a warm embrace and press a quick kiss to his cheek and soon enough, a slightly smoky smell filled your noses

shouto suddenly pulled away and was running to the kitchen

‘my pasta!’

you trailed behind him, seeing the mess in front of you

the pasta at the ends were colored black as shouto tried to gingerly stir the pasta

the pasta at the bottom of the pan was burnt to a crisp

‘oh my gosh, shoutoo, i love you, so much, but please stop trying to cook me dinner. you suck.’

you gently stepped beside him, trying to assist him in cleaning up as he stood there, a blushing mess at the fact that you said that you loved him shouto todoroki is a shy as heck boyfriend oh man

taglist: @bnha-homeroom

#bnhabookclub #event: provisional license 2020 #tag: fluff #shouto todoroki #shouto todoroki x reader #bnha fluff #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero imagines #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki fluff #shouto todoroki fluff

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youremypride · 6 years

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The Truth About Love | Ch.2

☽ Have you ever love someone so much, you would do anything for them? Even disturbing the peace between the living and the afterlife? Love knows no boundaries but there is always a price to be paid. How much do you say? As much as your heart desires for your true love.

Pairing: AHS! Michael Langdon x Reader

Genre: romance, angst, violence

Warnings: mentions of death

Note: Before the new episode starts, or is starting, another chapter to get the story rolling.

Word Count: 3046 words

prev - next

After the earthquake, I had completely lost track of time. I couldn’t tell how long we were locked in those iron cages. It almost drove me insane if it weren’t for Timothy and Emily. Until one day, they released us from our captive holdings and put us in an armoured vehicle that was silver and made of metal. As I looked out of the window, all I could see was thick fog swarming everywhere. All the leaves from the trees were gone, leaving a bare and eerie look from the outcome. The bark of the trees was burnt. Was there a forest fire or something?

Everything was grey and not a single drop of colour left could be seen. How could an earthquake do so much damage like this? This is why I should’ve watched the news. All my questions were answered by the same man who had took me away.

“There was a missile attack. A lot of countries were affected by it, including us.” Missile attack? Wow, I didn’t think that would happen so soon.

The two workers from before who were supposedly addressed as Cooperative agents said they were bringing us to an outpost. A survival shelter like the ones from Fallout.

“What’s going to happen to us now?” The man threw yellowed radioactive suits at us. “Put these on. The air is contaminated. They’ll explain to you when you arrive.”

They? Who is they? As we stepped out of the vehicle with our suits on, tall black gates welcomed us and it made an unsettling feeling in my stomach. The entire area was closed off with black fences as well. Was this a gated community? No, that can’t be it. To keep people out? Those two agents said that the environment was harmful now. That must be it. I couldn’t imagine being one of the affected. Just thinking about it sent shivers running down my spine.

A figure stood in front of us, dressed in a long robe that covered the person’s entire body, hands covered with gloves and a head mask with large eye googles and an opening tube to help with breathing. It reminded me of the Brotherhood from one of the Silent Hill movies.

The figure brought us further into the clearing and as the fog begins to clear, up ahead there was a man and a woman, kneeling on the grown with three other figures similar to the one in front of us. The woman was begging for forgiveness, saying it over and over again. What was she sorry for?

It was then accompanied by loud fired shots, as both the man and the woman were shot in the head. I felt my chest tightening, my breathing rigid and heavy. Holy shit. They shot them. They fucking shot them.

The entrance to the Outpost was a short curve till we reached the centre of the structure. The figure from before held out a card to the card scanner on the wall, a beep was heard, giving access to the main entry. It was then I knew that it would be the last time I ever saw the outside.

We had been assigned to our own rooms, mine just beside Emily’s. Each room had the same necessities, and a en suite along with it. The wardrobe was filled with long purple dresses, all of them with the same design and cutting. I was never really fond of wearing dresses, but if that’s the only thing I get, then so shall it be. Once I felt the hot water of the shower hitting against my skin, I felt rejuvenated and fresh. It’s been so long since I had one, and the feeling felt so good. My hair that was once greasy was now back to its original condition. I didn’t smell like a hobo anymore and the dirt from my skin had been cleared away.

I stepped out from the shower once I was finished, only to be surprised by a message on the mirror. It had been written out from the steam of the shower. It read, ‘Duo in carne una’. I couldn’t tell what it meant. Maybe someone might tell me but I wasn’t sure if I could trust them, knowing they would be suspicious of me. With a last look in the mirror, I join Emily and Timothy to meet with the others. We followed the music that was playing which brought us to a living room, a fireplace on the other side of the walls, with bookcases and sofas mirroring each other and a coffee table in between. This must be the common room for the survivors here.

There were seven people in the room, three men and four women. One of the women was in grey clothing unlike the rest.

“Well, well, well, well, well. New blood.” The older woman closest to ask spoke. Another woman approached us, “Come in, don’t be shy.” She greeted us warmly.

“You’re Dinah Stevens,” Timothy started, “My mother used to watch your show. She said you beat the pants off Oprah any day.”

“Bless her heart, a million of her and I wouldn’t have to be replaced by that telenovela.”

From my side, a blonde man came up to us, “Um, what’s happening out there?”

“It’s all gone.” Timothy replied. “Everything.” Emily chips in.

“Nothing but death.” I spoke. Thuds started coming from behind us. Ms. Venable was approaching us. She rings a bell, pausing a while before speaking, “Dinner is served.”

A plate holding a small white jelly cube sat in the centre of it.

“It’s all we get. Don’t be too disappointed.” The blonde man now known as Mr. Gallant tells us.

“Darling, you don’t know what disappointment is until you slept with Yul Brynner.” Evie replies back to him. Dinah laughs as Mr. Gallant looks down on his food, “I want to die.”

“The cube on your plate contains every vitamin our body needs.” Dinah informs us, “Or so they tell us.” Beside Timothy, Coco had stuffed her entire cube into her mouth, wolfing it down.

“I’m still hungry. I am so tired of the hunger.” She slams her hand on the table, standing up, “Fuck this bullshit! With all the thought that went into this place, they don’t have a single bag of Pirate’s Booty in the pantry?” While Coco was ranting away with her issues, Ms. Venable and Ms. Mead approaches the dining room from behind her. “For a hundred million dollars a ticket, I expect goddamn Gordon Ramsay in the kitchen cooking us real food!”

Ms. Venable’s cane taps the floor and the room went silent. With a flick of the wrist, Coco was greeted by a slap to her face, Timothy catching her and helping her regain stability. Everyone was shocked but I knew Coco had it coming for her. From the very moment, I could tell she wasn’t appreciative of what she had. Serves you right, bitch. I bit back a smile so that no one could see it.

“I’m going to be very clear so there will be no misunderstanding. We have enough nutrition for the next 18 months. And if our situation doesn’t improve, you can count on less and less.”

“Situation? What is our situation?”

Ms. Venable had informed us about a perimeter alert they had in the morning, saying a carrier pigeon from The Cooperative had sent a message stating that governments were wiped, rotting corpses had increased and survivors out there killing each other for food. Other outposts had been overrun, leaving our outpost the only one that was currently alive. Its been told that all of this happened in a mere of two weeks.

A few others came up, saying they detected a spike coming from the room. Mr. Gallant was quick to blame us just because we recently just got here. We defended ourselves, stating that we went through the procedures before entering The Outpost.

Ms. Mead checked each and everyone of us, and the only people that were caught were Mr. Gallant and Stu. They were dragged away to the decontamination room.

Another day passed and we all gathered back to the dining room. To our surprise Mr. Gallant had joined us, without Stu. He said that he was clean and Stu wasn’t which is why he was able to get free. Andre was blabbing away saying Stu never went outside and that he was with him most of the time, Coco was talking about how she started masturbating to cure her boredom, spewing out insults, causing Andre to curse at her.

Something was off about tonight’s dinner since Ms. Venable considered it a treat after last night calling it the bonne bouche. While the others were drooling over the hot meal, Andre was still not over Stu. Coco as always, getting a spoonful of the meat, slurping it up. Timothy too had suspicions about the meat. Andre began freaking out after finding a finger bone in the stew, claiming that Stu was the stew. Everyone started gagging and coughing out, while Ms. Venable stated it was ridiculous of them to think that. It was only her, Evie and I that was left sitting on the table. Everyone didn’t want to go near the stew anymore.

Evie continued her meal, “I don’t care what it is. It’s absolutely divine, and its full of fibre. I’m going to finish every drop.

“Don’t tell me your thinking of eating the stew, Y/N.” Timothy asked me. Was it wrong? It is after all, food. I was starting to get sick of the jelly cubes. “You shouldn’t waste food, Timothy. As much as it repulses me, I’m going to savour it.” A look of pure disgust came across his face while it earned me a smile from Evie and Ms. Venable.

“Such a good child, Y/N. You all should learn to be like Y/N.” Evie chimes. “Indeed, she is.” Ms. Venable adds on.

The others begin leaving to get back to their rooms, probably cleansing their mouth a hundred times to get the lingering taste off their taste buds.

Andre was glaring at Evie and I. He had an angered expression and the looked in his eyes says he was disgusted by the both of us.

“You’re a monster,” He spite at Evie, “How could you keep eating? You knew what it was. And you, Y/N. You barely just arrived and you think eating my boyfriend was your welcoming gift?!”

“It was chicken, Andre. Delicious white meat chicken.” Evie tried to assure him it was all in his head.

Annoyed, I decided to spite back at him. He needed to stop being such a pussy just because I ate his boyfriend, no pun intended there. “In my defence, I couldn’t care less if it was Stu or not. He tasted great. It’s been such a long time since I had someone in my mouth.” A sinister grin appeared on my face, causing Andre to get worked up.

“You’re disgusting. You’re a cannibal. You’re all cannibals!” He screams. Dinah, who I knew now is his mother, had both her hands on the side of him, stopping him from his rash behaviour. “Think about it. She ate it, too. Stu was contaminated. Why would Venable eat irradiated meat?”

“That’s right,” Timothy agrees, “Why would she feed us poison? The whole reason she is here is to keep us alive.”

“What makes you so certain she wants us alive? You can never trust anyone here, not even yourself.”

Andre starts asking his mother about his body, his ugly sobs starting to make me feel irritated.

“Shut up, shut up!” Emily snaps. “Just listen.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly. The song stopped.”

The old music player had changed to another song. Mr. Gallant proclaims that it was The Cooperative sending a message, saying that they were coming for them and that they were going to be rescued.

He was wrong. They were all wrong. All of them were dejected. Drinking away their sorrows, bringing up their hopes and spirit only for it to come crashing down. I wasn’t. From the day we were attacked, the was no hope left to seek. Only death awaits to give you kiss and embraces you in their darkness.

The days were long and it felt like I was on repeat every day. Wake up in the morning, get dress for the day, eat the same gelatine cubes, hang around with the others in the common room or read the books that filled up the shelves. The place is a bore and my life is a chore. There was nothing fun to do anymore. After a few weeks, Emily and Timothy started to distance themselves away from me. I didn’t take a genius to know what they were doing behind close doors. They had been on secret rendezvous with each other and the rules about copulation was starting to make them feel agitated and lusting for more of each other.

It was better that way. I was able to sneak around the Outpost without Ms Venable or Ms Mead knowing. The Outpost had a theme going the entire place. It was decorated with antique furniture; all the rooms were lighted using fireplaces or candles causing a saturated filter in my eyes. The whole place felt old and Victorian like. They did say this used to be a school. School for what exactly? Witches? I highly doubt it. The old news about that coven school for girls years ago was just the cherry on top. As if they exist in this century.

It dawned on me that it had been eighteen months since our arrival and the attack that left the whole world in chaos. The jelly cubes were starting to get smaller, and not forgetting that one time they served us Stu as stew. I enjoyed it with Evie as the others left to their own rooms, repulsed by the fact they were served human meat. I mean, eventually we all will be eating each other when resources decline and there’s little to none left to eat.

Before heading back into my room, I was startled by Ms Mead after finishing my nightly rounds around the place to digest my dinner.

“Ms Y/N, I’m surprised to see you here. How are you feeling?” Her voice brought me back to my senses, and I glance to her face. She had the same look on her, expressionless with no hint of life. However, I picked up a slight glint in her eyes and the small smirk playing on her lips. To be honest, I was beginning to wonder why she is always trying to start up small conversations with me unlike the rest. Does she have a secret agenda with me? What is her motive for having small talks with me?

“I, um… I’m fine, thank you for asking. Dinner was great. It’s been a while since we had something other than cubes. I’m heading towards my room? Are you heading towards yours as well?” I raised an eyebrow waiting for her reply.

“I’m getting the workers to get a room ready for a guest that’s coming.” Her eyes went big for a while, probably cursing herself for saying something she wasn’t suppose to. “Well, I better hurry along now. Go get some sleep, good night.” She hurried right passed me and disappeared around the corner.

“Weird.” I glance back before walking towards my room.

“My love, why do you call me your flower? Flowers are so beautiful, their petals are painted with different colours to make them stand out from each other, and their lingering scent could put you on a spell. I’m definitely not a flower, I am not beautiful enough to be captivated by.” This caused the man expression to sour after hearing what his lover had said about herself.

“Don’t you dare say something like that about yourself.” He cupped her face with both of his hands and made her look up to him. “I call you flower because you’re the most beautiful amongst all the flowers. I could never get enough of basking my eyes with your beauty. The colours you say? I’ve never seen so much colour in my life before meeting you, and now my vision is filled with bright shades of the colours in contrast to my previous ones of black and grey. I’m always under a spell, your natural scent only keeps me hungry of you more and more. You say you’re not a flower? To me, you’ll always be the most beautiful flower the world has never seen, as your beauty is for my eyes, and my eyes only. My beautiful flower.

“You really do have a way with words, don’t you?” Delicate fingers stroke against the pale white cheeks of the man. He places a small kiss on her palms and caressed her long curly locks of hair before pulling her in for a breath-taking kiss.

“Of course, if it weren’t for my words, I wouldn’t be able to court you at all.” Small laughter escaped from the woman’s mouth and it was music to the man’s ears. Her laughter finally comes to a stop as she held eye contact with the blue hues of the man’s. Green meeting blue, both holding a gaze so powerful with so much endearment and comfort.”

“I love you.” Her velvet voice was so sweet and gentle just like her lover’s embrace, holding her in his arms.

“I love you too,” The man had said a name, but it was unclear before everything starts to become hazy, the scene of the man and the woman fading out into pitch black.

Y/N woke up with a startle. Beads of sweat had dropped down her face, causing small hairs to stick on her forehead. Y/N could feel her heart clenching in pain as if it was broken by something, or someone. Y/N was still in her purple gown from the previous day and it didn’t help that it was hot and stuffy wearing it to sleep.

Why am I having these dreams again. Who are these people? What is going on? I need answers. I want answers.

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omnybus · 6 years

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The Red Marble

A creepypasta I wrote for @bogleech’s 2017 Creepypasta Cook-Off, and one of the semifinalists!

Comments and critiques are very much appreciated.

The craft had appeared one midsummer morning, hovering quietly over the ocean.

How it arrived without any warning was just one of its many secrets- it was a gargantuan thing, smooth and toroidal in shape, stretching across nearly half the visible horizon when viewed from the nearest beach. At first glance it looked as if it were made of crystal-clear glass, but further observations found it was made of some kind of highly reflective metal that mirrored the sea below and the sky above, and had no visible doors, windows, or seams of any sort. Even viewing it myself from the lighthouse, it seemed almost unreal, like an amateur CGI model of a perfectly smooth, colossal chrome donut hastily pasted onto the sky.

For four days straight, it simply hovered there, never moving, never making a sound. Cargo ships and commercial airplanes were re-routed at great expense and inconvenience to go around the mystery craft, as none dared to approach it too closely. Speculations over the crafts' pilots (if it was indeed piloted) and their intentions sparked heated debate both on the internet and amongst the leaders of the world. There were many attempts at communicating with the craft, both from military forces and civilians (despite the former's attempts at keeping the latter away), mostly through radio broadcasts. Greetings, questions, and threats all went unanswered. Several amateur pilots attempted to land on the craft, but were never heard back.

On the fifth day, another craft appeared, identical in size, shape, and suddenness of arrival, hovering over the Indian Ocean. Another two crafts appeared over the Pacific some time later, followed by four more circling the Antarctic. More and more appeared without a single noise or warning, simply "poofing" into existence in the blink of an eye, until nearly a hundred of them were scattered above the Earth’s oceans without any recognizable pattern.

After several hours of nothing, a great and terrible noise roared throughout the atmosphere across the globe - a low, metallic rumble like the chugging of a train engine slowed down to a thundering bass, kicking up the waters below and blasted nearby clouds away, followed by a blinding, blue beam of light blaring down out from the hole in the center of each craft. From my window I watched with curiosity as the sea below the craft nearest me began to foam and spiral. Curiosity turned to horror as the waters were quickly lifted in a spiraling cyclone of water, sucking up into the craft's middle from below, but not emerging from the top. Before long the cyclone became a massive, twisting cylinder of water wider than a mountain, rapidly lifting up into the craft's eye without any sign of stopping. From the beach, I watched the water being dragged from the shoreline like a carpet, and never rushing back. Whatever these machines were, their purpose was clear: they were draining our ocean.

Needless to say, the world panicked. More fruitless pleas of mercy were broadcasted on every frequency, even pulses of x-rays and gamma rays were utilized with the theory that perhaps our visitors communicated on a different frequency. Temples and churches around the globe all bowed and prayed to their respective gods for help. Some mad individuals took boats out to where the ocean was being drained, perhaps to communicate with the crafts or simply to fulfill a death wish. Either way, their boats were all crushed within the waves and sucked up into the cyclones, never to be heard from again.

Every military force on the planet turned their guns on the alien invaders- missiles, jet fighters, drones and more relentlessly bombarded the machines with everything they could, even our nuclear stockpile was unleashed out of desperation. But new footage revealed that anything that attempted to strike the crafts' hulls simply vanished into nothing mere yards from the alien machines- no explosions, no re-directing, not even a puff of smoke; just disappearing from view as if deleted from existence. All attempts at landing on the craft ended in a similar fashion. When that failed, the remaining military forces simply focused on securing whatever land-locked lakes and rivers remain, as they were unaffected by the draining machines.

Before sundown, the ocean was almost entirely drained, according to satellite footage. From my vantage point, what was once the Atlantic Ocean was now a vast, rapidly-drying desert of sand and rocks, stretching out for miles in every direction. On the horizon, the shimmering craft and its titanic cyclone of water was silhouetted against the sunset, continued its robbery of our waters unabated.

For the longest time I just stood and stared at the thing, thinking and feeling nothing. I had turned off my radio, TV, and internet long ago, having grown tired of hearing the same reports of mass deaths, panic, and chaos repeated ad nauseam.

By midnight, our oceans were no more.

When the last bit of seawater vanished into the craft's center, the blue beam dimmed, and its metallic roar ceased, but the craft remained, reflecting the stars and clouds beneath the moon. It was almost eerily beautiful, an awe-inspiring distraction from the utter destruction of our most precious resource. For a moment I thought about hopping into my jeep and driving out along the sea bed to see the craft up close- a foolhardy quest, no doubt, but considering how the world as I knew it was now no more, and my job as lighthouse keeper was made obsolete in the most insane way possible, what other possible goal in life could I have?

My thoughts were immediately interrupted by another great and terrible noise from the craft, not an ear-shattering roar but a low and slow whooshing, gurgling noise, like the stomach of a titanic, hungry beast.

The center of the craft lit up once more, now an angry red instead of blue, followed by a column of something suddenly pouring out of the craft like an unplugged sewer pipe. I could not tell from the darkness and distance, but I assumed it was water, hoping perhaps that, whatever these things were and whoever sent them, had some benevolent gift for us. Perhaps these aliens took pity upon us humans and decided to clean up our oceans for us, undoing centuries of pollution with their wondrous technology? Was this a gift from beyond? A token of peace? I would take any glimmer of hope at this point.

Once it approached the shore, however, my optimism was immediately snuffed out as my lighthouse's beam swept over the craft's "delivery".

This was not water. This wasn't like anything on Earth. This was red. This was thick and viscous, bubbling and heaving and folding over itself again and again like lava, or freshly-ground meat. Dark red waves with crusted, scabby skin stretched and smothered over each other in their race to the shore. Soft, pale pink tendrils coiled and uncoiled from the creeping mass like tongues. Translucent yellow pustules, some as big as cars, bubbled and jiggled with a dark fluid before rupturing violently, great rivulets of crimson custard spewing forth in every direction. The stench- oh dear God in heaven the stench- washed over me like a tsunami, pouring down into my lungs like hot, rancid soup.

As I knelt down to retch, I watched as a long, flat tongue of the red slop slid it ways up the beach and pooled around my bare feet. It was unpleasantly warm and wet, and rippled and probed along my soles and between my toes, like some big toothless dog was gnawing and slobbering all over my feet. It was enough to finally send me over the edge, and with a great heave I painted the crimson wave with the contents of my stomach, which immediately foamed and swirled into the surface of the red goop, releasing thick red steam as it gurgled. I finally gathered the resolve I needed to leap out of the intruding sludge and high-tail it back to my lighthouse, sealing the doors and windows for all the good it would do. I washed my feet as best as I could (they were slightly pink where the sludge had touched them, but otherwise normal-looking), and immediately dove into bed, trying to forget everything I saw.

In the morning, the craft was gone, but the ocean I was hoping to see was replaced with a vast expanse of red. Its scabby surface rose and fell in waves and ripples, but with a motion more akin to a breathing animal then any body of water.

I looked at my feet, hoping they at least had recovered from touching that stuff, but they had only gotten worse. From the ankles down, the skin was mottled crimson, shiny and rugose with thin patches of pale, crusty scabs all over. My toenails, once thick and only slightly yellow, were now a deep burgundy, heavily wrinkled and brittle like burnt bacon. A faint smell, like a fainter version of what I had smelled before, wafted from my afflicted flesh. I felt no pain. In fact, below my ankles, I felt nothing.

When I turned around, I saw that I had left a trail of blood-red footprints on the floor the other night. My sheets were stained a similar color. They would have to go.

Before anything else, I checked the news on my computer. Perhaps the nature of this new red ocean was revealed.

The very first search result on Google was a single image, taken via satellite of the planet Earth. I saw the world I now lived on.

A red marble.

#my art #writing #creepypasta #end of the world #the red marble #bogleech #creepypasta cookoff

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jasminwiniarski · 4 years

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Interview answers

Here are all the replies I got from undergrad students:

1. Nathalie, 19, female, Chemistry

2. Yesterday

3. Yess, basically every day

4. I use it to get the molar mass of elements

unnecessary are the different colors of elements and the boiling points

5. /

6. at Uni for different calculations and I need to learn the periodic table for the exams

7. /

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1. Michel, 21, male, I am currently in the third year of my Physics Bachelor studies here at Luxembourg University. I am kind of sporty (playing football), love a good laugh with friends and enjoy doing physics, math and chemistry.

2. Last week during the Modern Physics lecture

3. At least once a week but there may be weeks where I use it more often.4) I mostly use it to find the atomic number (Z) or to see which elements are unstable, which are unreactive or very reactive.

5. I got used to it, but at the start it was hard to find the elements I was searching for because the table is quit large and often crowded in values.

6. University

7. At school maybe start with a small periodic table and then add more elements slowly? All in all I think the periodic table looks good as it is.

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So first, my name is Jérémy, I'm 21 and, yes obviously I'm male. Even if it sounds like if it's an introduction in a support meeting, I'm not a drug addict. There's very few to talk about me, I'm a boring dude with a boring life. I study physics, I'm currently in the 5th semester.The last time I used a periodic table was not so long ago, maybe 2 or 3 week 🤔.For the 3rd question I will answer it depends. Because, depending of the course and the topic currently studying. So, let's say sometimes I use it.I use the PSE because it's easy to use... everything is categorised and in a specific order, it makes easy to find what you want such the atomic mass or the valance electrons as well as the shell number. In the past I used it more for the atomic mass, but now it's more to now the quantum states of the electrons.I like question 5 😂. Damn I hate it when you search by name or initials (I don't know how they call the short name, so I call it initials). Like go and search for Hf. Where the hell is it!!???There's only one motivation: you don't have a choice. If you want to know something about some element without using internet, there's only the PSE. Or imagine you want to search for an element with some particular characteristics, well it's more difficult to search it on Google. With the PSE, the characteristics of the elements are in a logic order, it says directly which element you're searching for.Last question. I would change nothing. Because on paper you can't change anything more or do it even more efficient. Well I'm not a specialist neither a designer, but it's just what I think. If you can improve the PSE in paper format that would be interesting and great 😊. For the bonus points, so you want to do a PSE with a focus on what element can be found in which planet? 🤔 If I understood it right, then I suggest you to add the value (like in €/kg) of the elements since Luxembourg want to do spacemining. I would also add the distance between us and the respective planet. So that it's easier to calculate the cost of mining, and so to see if it's worth it.

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1. Dino, 21, Male, B.Sc. Chemistry

2. Couple of days ago

3. I definitely use it regularly, at least weekly

4. I use it to explain why certain molecules react in a specific way. Sometimes you need to know the position and the mass number so you can argument why a component is in a stable/unstable state. I often need to know the molar mass of a molecule for calculations but I don‘t calculate it myself as there are online molar mass calculators. The electronegativity is also something I often need to know so I can tell about the strength of a chemical bond, but this is missing in most periodic tables. All information in the periodic table about an element is vital.

5. If I can‘t find a precise one immediately.

6. Except for studies I don‘t use the table so I guess none. I also don‘t use it always directly as I had to study it by heart so you should know the most important parts without looking at one.

7. It would be nice if (in the case of program as for your app) the periodic table is interactive and you can just display the information you need right now. I think you‘ll be able to find the information you‘re looking for much faster. The lanthanoides and actinoides don‘t need to be displayed as you nearly never need them.

For the bonus question I think it would be nice if the radioactive elements have a sign.

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Name: Benan

Age: One shall never ask a lady for her age!... Try putting a TOE next to a TOE :)

Gender: Take a guess if you’re smart enough;)

Background about myself: I have a beige-coloured wall behind me. Is that background enough for you?

I’m a Turkish-Luxembourgish-Belgian student living in Luxembourg since my childhood. I speak 5 languages (and the 6th language; Czech, is on the way).

Studies: 3rd year in Bachelor in Physics (haha I’m a Bachelorette)

Currently as a Free Mover in Prague (wonderful city!).

When was the last time you used the periodic table?

Today!

Do you use the periodic table regularly? On a daily, weekly basis?

I would say 2 times a week.

What is your principal reason for using the periodic table, what is the information that you usually seek from it?

I have a course called “Solid State Physics” and we actually use the periodic table quite regularly in order to investigate the electronic structure of different elements and materials. We see what makes up the bonding states between atoms. We analyse why a metal is a metal, where the ferromagnetism comes from, how superconductor and semiconductors work in electronic basis and what their properties are. We also analyse different crystal structures like diamonds.

What causes you frustration when using the periodic table?

It reminds me of chemistry courses from high school and hence my high school life itself. It wasn’t really the best time of my life, but it was still funny!

What motivates you to use the periodic table?

Henry Moseley’s contribution to the periodic table and the fact that he was shot by a Turkish sniper during the Battle of Gallipoli.

Also, the fact, that if I work with the periodic table, I might pass the exam, if I pass the exam, I will get my Bachelor’s Diploma in Physics and hence officially be a physicist!

What would you change about this experience?

Life is an experience, time is relative and the past may never be changed.

Bonus question:

Bring it on, lady!

Name, physical properties (colour, shape, softness,..), mass, smell (actually that would be interesting, you could explain by means of smells we know how that element smells, e.g. they say space smells like burnt meat), percentage of abundance of that same element on Earth, lattice structure (face centred cubic, base centred cubic, or or or), what it’s useful for, how old the element is, atomic number, etc

#ixd301 #ixdbelfast #elements #spaceresources #interviews

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ecotone99 · 5 years

Text

[MF] The one who perished

https://www.thebookaddict.co.uk/2019/08/the-one-who-perished.html

Placing one Broken sole over the other Oliver could feel the warm tarmac underfoot. With each step came a new breath of clean, crisp air. With each gulp of air came a sense of freedom. An escape from the beatings, the abuse, the mental strain it took being in there twenty-four hours a day. The time was finally here where he could be free.

The horseshit smelt of roses dipped in caramel compared to the inside. Oliver had a big hop in his step. He listened to every sound. He absorbed every drop of the fresh smells.

His ears where like antennas listening to the small chirps and the slow breeze. He could hear a low rustle. Of a small animal, he guessed. He continued to walk with the same chirp he had since he left.

Throughout the next ten minutes, the insistent rustle continued. A chill sparkled down his back. Stopping in dead stillness. He could feel another presence. A ghostly dark presence from behind him.

He continued to walk with less of a spring in his step. Now the horse shit really smells bad. Now the spring had popped underfoot. The hot tarmac felt icy. The thoughts began to creep back into his mind.

The burning. The blood, the screams for help. All of it came flooding back to the tip of his mind. The pills and therapy only kept them at bay for so long. Before they danced on the tip of his mind.

Now he was walking faster. He didn’t know where he was going. All he wanted was an ice-cold can of Dr Pepper and to find somewhere to bed down for the night. He didn’t even know where he was.

The rustling started again. This time it was followed by a louder sound more of a yell.

Oliver stopped and gazed back into the woods. He could see a pair of red eyes in the bushes. At first, he thought it was his mind playing tricks, but then the eyes turned into a body. It was a pale man wearing a black tracksuit. He was really old. His face was decayed. His nose was squashed. His eyes where further back then they should have been. A deep crevasse in a mountainside

“Who are you? Oliver h froze the man looked icy. As if he had just walked out of a freezer. Little streaks of steam came wafting up above his eyes.

The man's grin rose high like a jackal creeping up and up. Unnaturally up.

“Who are you,” Oliver's mind told him to run escape while he still had a chance. He doesn't want his freedom to be sucked away from him. He didn't like this man. He was an enemy someone he shouldn't be near. It's like his mother always told him “Never mess with the big ones” He didn't want to mess with this one. All he wanted was his mum to protect him. That was impossible though she was dead and it was all his fault.

A stream of pee trickled down his leg.warming it up as it trickled down.

The man burst out in laughter. Oliver began to weep. He was stuck in place like a frog dropped in boiling water all he could do was weep and try to escape. He legs were numb.

The man's cackling stopped and he rummaged in his pocket. He pulled out something shiny. He pointed it to Oliver. He thought this was it., He thought that he was gone forever.

The man threw the shiny thing at Oliver. It hit the ground in front of him. It wasn't a blade it was a key. A shiny silver key on a ring. By the time Oliver looked back up from the floor the man had disappeared. He had vanished.

Oliver picked up the key to inspect it. It was a golden key. With all its crevices he wondered where the accompanying lock lived. He wanted to find out what this man wanted with him.

He inspected the keyring it had an address. Thirty-five gray fields avenue. He didn't know where that was, he rushed down the warm tarmac down to the nearest payphone he wanted a taxi to get out of here, anywhere was better than here. He wanted to smell the fresh air as he rushed through the fields. Touching on freedom for the first time in years, but now all he wanted to do is get away from that thing. Whatever it was. A ghost, a monster he didn't want to know.

The taxi arrived within thirty minutes and he was outside a shell garage. He got out and grabbed himself a can of dr pepper. It no longer felt refreshing. It tasted bitter and he spat it back out onto the forecourt as if it was poison leaping from his mouth. He didn't swallow a single drop, not one.

He sat down on the curb and cried once more. A multitude of people wandered past him but no one stopped. He sat there crying for maybe an hour. He didn't know where to go or where to hide. If he should run away in case it came back

He had the key in his hand and he kept staring at it like it would give him an answer. Well, it didn't. He had two choices. One to go to the address and most likely meet the thing again,. He never wanted to see the man again. He was evil pure evil throughout his bones. He was evil He clearly danced with the devil on innocent men's graves.

The other option was to run. Go anywhere as far away from that address as he possibly could. Maybe he could take a flight. Maybe he could go to France through the Eurotunnel. Well, he had fuck all money so that was out of the question. He could still run as far as his legs could take them, but something deep down inside him told him that he couldn't run from this man. The man would hunt him down and shoot him like a sitting duck.

No, he had to go to the address and found out what was going on. A deep curiosity waved through his mind. He needed to find this man. He needed to find out what it all meant. Even if this was pure evil. Even if this was a repercussion for what he had done. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that he confronted it. He was never a coward and never would be.

He remembered that day in year six when his teacher was yelling at him for fighting. He was a young blue-eyed blonde-haired boy, she was a fat overgrown ape in a dress. He spat in her face and called her a cunt. Of course, he was expelled for that and he was beaten by his mother. But he took the beating with grace knowing what he had done was the right thing.

He always wondered what had come of her miss cuntface. He had grown up and gone grey and with any luck she at one too many slices of cake a killed over choking on her own vomit.

He went onto google and found that the location was four and a half miles away. It was in a dingy and dark corner of greater London. Where drug dealers are open about their business and the kids ride around on their bike throwing empty beer cans at the elderly and weak.

He jumped on a train and was there within an hour. He took caution as he approached the alley.

He could hear the rustle of the rats scouring their little faces into the pit.

He heard yelling coming from afar.

The alley was dark no streetlights, it was the day but no light came in this derelict and dingy hole. The gutters leaking making a tip-tap sound dancing across the floor like midgets taunting him. Saying look here you nut case I'm talking to you and your crazy.

He took caution as he crept down the alley. He could see numbers spray-painted on the walls. He was looking for thirty-five, unlucky as shit.

He got to the unlucky number and looked ahead. The building had crumbling mortar and had graffiti on it. The artist as you may call him drew an extremely large penis on the door and surrounded the rest of the walls with six-six-six, Satan will get you. He is here for your soul.

As if he wasn't already scared he felt his bowels moving, he clenched to keep them locked in to stop shit sliding down his leg like a volcano erupting. This has happened to him on many occasions that he does not want to happen again.

The door was a small metal thing. It had one step up leading to it. Oliver took the steep and placed the key in the lock. His heart pounded hurting his rib cage. He twisted it and heard the clicking and then pulled it down and pushed it inwards. A large creak and he could see in.

All he could see was a lot of derelict in the dark fall of mould and mildew. The place looked half gutted and half furnished. Litter capped the floor like a dump truck had tipped over.

He took a slow step in and let out an abundance of air releasing carbon dioxide back into the atmosphere. This is when the atmosphere hit him. It hit him hard almost choking him. He began to cough and splutter. It was burnt, it was charged meat mixed with the unmistakable smell of death. The smell that lingered in you for hours upon hours. The smell that made vomit come out of you as if you were a racehorse. The smell he smelt the day of the incident.

He ventured further into the broken-down shack of a building. The only walls left where mere beams. The floor above lay sprawled across ground zero. There was nothing here. Why would that thing that man? That creature tells him to come here of all places. To this shit show. For what? He kept walking further in and that death smell hit him again. This time he gagged a little. Almost puking. Luckily he hasn't ate all day otherwise He would have gone up like the fourth of July splattering vomit on all solid objects within reaching distance.

He pushed through and went forward. He could feel a ghostly presence from deep within the remaining walls. Chills and freezing ice water danced around his body.

In front of his eyes, he could see what he was there for. There was a big black tub. Battered and beaten plastic. Scratches covering all surfaces insight. It was eyeing him with a vengeance.

He wandered towards the tub as if a presence was pushing his body with full throttle towards it. The next thing he knew was that the lid was coming off. His icy white hands were peeling back the lid to see what treasures lay within. Well, not treasures what evil spirits, the evilness that haunts and hurts his thoughts. Cramming him full of pain through his body breaking down the barrier between his mind and soul. Forcing his soul through his thoughts dragging his dark consciousness.

Lifting the lid off he could see what was underneath. He lifted it off and peered underneath. It was a dark piece of clothing covered in muck and dark splotches. His heart sunk lower into his chest. Deep down into his heart a burning sensation tickled him. Dancing through him puncturing his heart.

It was hers the young girls. The one who perished because of him. The ones who died so he could live. The reason he was locked up. raped, mutilated, tortured. The lies that were spread around hurting him even more. Destroying what little he had.

Wife, kids, friends, everyone was gone. His good job was gone. Every single penny he owned had been taken off of him all because of that one terrible night. That night that they all perished.

Tears balled up under his lashes, his throat numb and head began to spin. It was getting to him. Eating at him.

He slowly lifted the clothes up and touched it. He held it even smelt it. It was hers the one that was now gone.

From behind, he could hear a faint whisper, his heart fell through the bone hitting the floor with a force that struck at the inner workings of his body.

“Ha, ha, ha” It was a laugh of sorts, but a very quiet one. The same laugh the had heard earlier. The man was back. He was back.

Swiftly turning Oliver grasped at the clothes holding it tight to his chest. He was hugging it to feel closer.

Looking around the dark and desolate room he couldn't see the man. The ghost of sorts hasn't appeared yet. No, he hadn't he was nowhere to be seen.

“Where are you bastard come out and face me”

“Ha, Ha, Ha” The voices laughed once again. This time more of a witch's cackle,. Less chimp-like.

“Come out you fucking cunt. Who are you why are you here? Why did you make me come here.”

“He, Ha, ha” This time it was high pitched, a child's laugh. A little girls laugh. One that he had heard before only when he heard it wasn't a laugh. It was her. The girl that had...

“Don't you get it” This voice was an adult a manly voice. Deep and throaty. Head to toe with gruffness.

“Get what”

“I am not real. I am you Oliver” The voice twisted into another distinct sound. This time it was a woman, not a young girl.

“What the fuck are you talking about” Oliver's voice broke apart

“I am your conscience John. I am here to destroy you. I am here to ruin your life” Another morth this time into the girl's voice “ Like you destroyed me”

The other voice appeared “Like you killed me in cold cold blood. You murdered us John” This time the voices merged into one and horrible monotone of mixes humming through his core”

“I didn't mean to It wasn't my fault”

“You were the one who put the petrol through the door, you are the one who threw in the match, you are the one who ran and hide, you were the one who let us die”

“It wasn't supposed to be you it was supposed to be them you know it wasn't meant to be you”

“You could have saved us you could have saved us” The voices chanted this time separately.

“Please stop please stop”

“No Oliver we will always be here eating at you beating you down when you feel good. Destroying every moment like you destroyed ours.”

“No stop Please. I didn't mean to” John began to whimper. He was yelling. The noise bouncing wall to wall. His cries dripped like a leaking tap.

He fell to the floor gripping at the piece of clothing. Holding it so tight that no one could take it. This was when the sirens came on and a man in a green jacket took him away. They carted John off to the asylum. After this day he lost his voice. He could no longer scream. He could no longer cry. He could no longer say a single word.

When the voices came he was forced to listen and listen carefully. He couldn't fight back. They ate at every inch of his brain day and night. They mauled over his skull like a chipmunk dancing in the waves.

The pills, the nurses, psychotherapist. No one could help him. No one ever could help him. Nothing would stop this eternal death defining defeat from his conscience. He knew he had done wrong. But it wasn't his fault, was it? He sometimes questioned it but he always came back to blaming anyone else.

He didn't know who lived there it was their fault they told him that the family were gone. You should have checked? I couldn't I Didn't know. The voices told him it was his fault. It was all his fault. Deep down he knew it. Past all that denial he knew it. He truly knew who was there. He knew the girl lived there. He knew her. He knew her from afar. Watching her and wondering about her with fascination. He knew deep down he could never have her. Maybe he did it on purpose an act of you can't have her, no one can. Maybe just maybe it was his fault.

He was told the house was empty. He was told that a quick insurance fraud job. He lit the match and ran. He never looked back. He never heard the screaming until he was too late. It was too much. He had to run he had to hide. He wishes he could go back but he couldn't do anything. Nothing could change this nothing could end his suffering. He was stuck in an eternal dance with the devil where he was made to dance on hot ashes and be whipped for all of eternity.

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#Blogger #Story

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twoguystrybbq-blog · 6 years

Text

Woodyard Bar-B-Q

Leo:

Ben got back from his Texas vacation (of course sending me mouth-watering pictures of Texas barbeque) and got a puppy! Well, a year-old puppy. Her name is Gracie and she is gorgeous. A Greyhound mix, she is a chocolate brown with darker brown/black vertical stripes (I guess she wants to look taller?).

Gracie being a new dog and me being a large bearded man, she didn’t take to me instantly. When I came to the door, there were a few barks. When I came in Ben’s apartment, she barked a couple more times and growled a bit. While I was overcome with her cuteness, she was obviously a bit nervous. I put out my hand for her to smell, which usually does the trick when I meet new dogs. She smelled it nervously and then backed away. I went to sit down and she kind of circled the apartment, coming near me and then darting away. Ben gave me a couple treats and giving Gracie those helped her warm up to me. By the time we were ready to go, Gracie let me pet her a bit.

Ben suggested that we go to Woodyard BBQ because they had a patio and we could bring Gracie. “Did the website say you could bring dogs?” I asked a bit skeptically. “No, but it’ll be fine,” said Ben. “Okay,” I replied, but I still had my doubts about showing up to a restaurant with a dog.

So, Gracie, Ben, and I piled into Ben’s car and drove over to Kansas for some barbeque. It was a little hot out, so we cruised over to Woodyard with the windows up and the A/C on. You could tell that Gracie would’ve preferred the windows down, but she was a great car dog and lay down most of the trip.

Woodyard isn’t off the beaten path (it is only a minute or two from the highway), but it’s location in a sparsely populated, foresty area makes it seem secluded. As we drove up, it reminded me of roadside BBQ joints in Arkansas that my mom had taken me to as a kid when we drove down to Hot Springs, Arkansas to fill up on Mountain Valley Spring water (which is a whole other story). So, I immediately had a very pleasant impression.

As we walked over to the patio, my nervousness came back about bringing a dog to a restaurant. As luck would have it, a waitress was clearing some tables on the patio and she greeted Gracie with a smile. “Oh, a lot of people have been bringing their dogs today,” she said. And, with that, my nervousness was gone. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll go in and order while you stay with Gracie and then you go in and order. Sound good?” “Sure thing,” said Ben.

So, I went in and the waitress from earlier took my order. As I was ordering, what appeared to be her family came in and gave her hugs and said goodbye. This scene added a sweet air of family to the restaurant, which reinforced the hospitality I’d felt since we were told that Gracie was a welcomed guest. For lunch/dinner (it was about 3pm), I went with brisket, ribs, and a side of potato salad. Oh, and a Pabst tall boy because it was a Saturday. I went out and sat with Gracie while Ben ordered. Gracie didn’t whine or anything when Ben left and she let me pet her (later, I’d give her a rib bone and that would seal our friendship). While Ben was ordering, I looked around the patio. It was an all-brick, open-air patio, which was nice because the pleasant smell of burning wood permeated the air. The bricks had begun to shift, so the floor was a little uneven, but this just added to the character of the patio. There was also a small stove towards the back, which made me wonder about the origins of this patio. Had it once been a small house or kitchen back in the day and the roof bits had long since vanished, but the sturdy brick remained? And the indoor dining area and the place I ordered looked newer. Maybe we were sitting in the original barbeque restaurant and the rest had been added on over the years?

As I sat musing and enjoying the day, Ben came back. Moments later, our orders came out. I was very pleased with the portions of brisket and ribs and the potato salad had big ol’ chunks of potato in it, letting me know that it had been handmade from scratch. The food tasted good, too! But the real winner of the day and why I would go back was the sauce. It was a great blend of flavors and was a bit thicker (the way I prefer it). Needless to say, after I’d tried the meat without the sauce and with the sauce, I covered the remainder in sauce.

We finished up and headed back to the car. On our way back, we talked about the things we liked and the kind, hospitable atmosphere was the thing we appreciated the most (with the sauce and the food, of course). When we got back to Ben’s, he wanted to show me a movie called “The Room,” which you just have to see to know how it is. While we watched the movie and had a couple of nice beers, Gracie laid between us, put her head on my lap and let me pet her. I guess that rib bone really did the trick!

What a pleasant afternoon! I hope that you are hungry and I hope that you go to Woodyard BBQ. When you do, I hope you have just as great an afternoon as Ben and I did when we visited them. You may have to get a puppy, too, of course, but everybody needs a puppy or two in their lives. Happy barbequing!

Ben:

The few days leading up to our visit to Woodyard BBQ was a bit of a whirlwind for me. Wednesday was the Fourth of July -- a holiday I properly celebrated in Texas with old friends. All-American beer was had; Bruce Springsteen was jammed to; Rocky IV was watched. On Thursday, I flew home to Kansas City and pretended to work in the evening. On Friday, I woke up early, actually did work, drove to an animal shelter, and adopted a new roommate.

Meet Gracie. She enjoys sleeping on the couch, chasing squirrels, and hiding from loud trucks. Despite chewing on my “Dog Training for Dummies” book, Gracie is all around perfect.

However, as happy as I was to add Gracie to the Case de Ben, I realized her presence would throw a bit of a kink into our weekly scheduled barbecue plans. I had, after all, just bet her about 24 hours before we planned to get barbecue on Saturday, and I hadn’t yet left her alone for a minute, much less the solid 90 minutes we typically devote to our Saturday meat sweats. I told Leo I had adopted Gracie, sent him the obligatory cute dog picture, and invited him over to meet her before we headed out for barbecue.

As I waited for Leo, I did some recon on the Google machine -- I need a dog-friendly barbecue joint with a patio. After perusing photos for a few minutes, I settled on Woodyard BBQ. Woodyard appeared to have a massive outdoor seating area and plenty of stars after hundreds of reviews. Well that settles that.

Leo arrived; Gracie barked (large bearded men scare me, too), but quickly warmed up to him. Awesome, now that you’re all friends, let’s feast. Per custom, I had foregone a proper breakfast to ensure I was sufficiently hungry (hangry, really) by the time barbecue was in front of me. What’s more, I had already had some unexpected exercise that morning -- apparently dogs need walks.

The three of us piled into my car and we were off. Located in KCK, Woodyard is absolutely massive, but has the feel of a simple roadside barbecue joint. And, if I had to guess, I’d think that’s exactly how Woodyard started, because the actual restaurant structure is pretty small and traditional: just a few tables and a counter. But the patio(s) are huge, and I get the sense that Woodyard can and does get packed at peak times. In the days after we visited Woodyard, I’ve come to learn that it regularly hosts live, outdoor music. Barbecue, a few beers and a concert sounds about right for an ideal Saturday night. But, alas, we were here on a Saturday at 2 in the afternoon, so we had the run of the place.

I left Gracie on the patio with Leo as I ordered inside. Woodyard has your typical barbecue offerings, plus burnt end chili (something I’ll most certainly try when I return). I went with a two meat plate: burnt ends and pulled pork, with a side of beans.

My food would be brought out to our table, and I was given a table stand with a photo of a young Paul Newman. The guy at the counter told me: “He looks like the type of guy that would hook up with your girlfriend and just say, ‘Sorry, brah!’” Honestly, that looks exactly correct.

Back to Leo and Gracie on Woodyard’s front patio, and our food arrived within minutes. Before my first bite, Woodyard was at an immediate plus -- the portions were legitimate. Consistent with its roadside barbecue feel, our food came on metal trays lined with paper, sides heaped into paper containers. Leo had ordered brisket, ribs, and potato salad, which I’ll let him talk about, but visually, his ribs looked fantastic.

My burnt ends were sauced and falling apart on my plate -- a good thing. I think a solid burnt end is like a solid rib; it should essentially “fall off the bone,” but with no bone, burnt ends should just melt into the plate. If I have one complaint, it’s that I wish there were more charred bits in Woodyard’s burnt ends, but at the same time, the taste made me want to sample the burnt end chili. Next time, I suppose.

The star of my plate was the pulled pork -- something I’m relatively picky about. Woodyard gave me a heap of meat that wasn’t too dry, yet wasn’t too fat, and didn’t over-rely on seasoning or skin. This was a true meat pile, a mess of smoked pig, and you can’t go wrong with that. The pork pairs well with Woodyard’s original sauce, but unlike other places, the sauce doesn’t steal the show; it’s only a compliment to the meat.

The beans were of the thick and sweet variety, which is what I’d consider traditional Kansas City style. Zero complaints there.

Woodyard left me pleasantly full, and Gracie, having eaten an entire bone from Leo, seemed equally sated. On our way out, we took note of Woodyard’s banner of TV appearances. This place has certainly done the circuit, so to speak. Woodyard has been visited by Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, Anthony Bourdain, and Andrew Zimmern. That amount of press is nothing to scoff at.

Woodyard is a place you should go for that traditional roadside barbecue feel. Big portions served on paper and outdoor seating, what more could you ask for? And if you’re feeling in the mood, maybe stick around for a couple (or a dozen) beers, live music, and a second round of meat and/or beer sweats.

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omnybus · 7 years

Text

Creepypasta: Red Marble

I’ve been working on this on and off for a few months now, and have finally finished it. Feel free to leave criticism, but honestly I’m just glad its finished.

Red Marble

By Omny

The craft had appeared one midsummer morning, hovering quietly over the ocean.

Every military force on the planet turned their guns on the alien invaders- missiles, jet fighters, drones and more relentlessly bombarded the machines with everything they could, even our nuclear stockpile was unleashed out of desperation. But new footage revealed that anything that attempted to strike the crafts' hulls simply vanished into nothing mere yards from the alien machines- no explosions, no re-directing, not even a puff of smoke; just disappearing from view as if deleted from existence. All attempts at landing on the craft ended in a similar fashion. When that failed, the remaining military forces simply focused on securing whatever land-locked lakes and rivers remained, as they were unaffected by the draining machines.

By midnight, our oceans were no more.

Once it approached the shore, however, my optimism was immediately snuffed out as my lighthouse's beam swept over the craft's "delivery".

When I turned around, I saw that I had left a trail of blood-red footprints on the floor the other night. My sheets were stained a similar color. They would have to go.

Before anything else, I checked the news on my computer. Perhaps the nature of this new red ocean was revealed.

The very first search result on Google was a single image, taken via satellite of the planet Earth. I saw the world I now lived on.

A red marble.

#my art #writing #creepypasta #horror #sci fi

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