38 - Aftertaste
Blueberry You,
Chocolate undertones,
Bittersweet like mocha
Richer than cocoa
Marshmallow skin
Eyes intoxicating
Like syrup-soaked cherries
Too sophisticated for my pallette
Yet still I want a taste
Of that fruit forbidden;
Imparting to me knowledge
Of the deepest parts of you.
It all turns to dust on the tip of my tongue,
The kirsch of your lips burns acrid, metallic.
Chocolate-coated secrets
Sit like stones in the stomach;
Sticky-sweet dissolving
Like sugar in the bloodstream.
Your facade cracks like toffee on the teeth,
Exposing the fermenting apple within.
Oh innocence lost, a fantasy fleeting,
Flavour-faded like gum overchewed;
Now the banquet is over, cup drained to the dregs,
And now I know I never truly knew you.
______________________________
The Dark Menagerie No. 38
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Episode 7: Beignets!
I rewatched S2E2 of Helluva Boss ("Seeing Stars") and got hit with that BANGER of a line from Loona about dads having issues and messing up all the time but still caring. VIVZIE, I am sensing a THEMEEEEEEE.
And thank you for all the lovely comments thus far! I'm so tickled to see how many folks connect with this, whether you're from the American South or not. Food is such a core love language for so many people.
SOUTHERN COMFORT FOOD SERIES
Chicken and Waffles
Sweet Tea
Peach Cobbler
Hushpuppies
Crab/Crawfish Boil
Gumbo (plus character notes!)
Beignets Part 2
Shrimp and Grits
Fried Catfish
Cornbread
Pecan Pie
Biscuits and Gravy
Description under the cut!
[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Radioapple comic
PANEL 1: (Lucifer sits atop a barstool-like chair on his balcony at the hotel. He's curled up in on himself, quietly crying with his head in his arms as he slumps over the marble balustrade and his tail curled around his ankles.)
PANEL 2: (Alastor gently sets a large platter of fresh beignets next to Lucifer's arm, and Lucifer glances up, looking miserable.)
Alastor: (offscreen) You're not a bad father, you know.
PANEL 3: (Alastor strikes a jazz-hands pose as a canned laugh track emanates from his cane.)
Alastor: Granted, YES you did fail spectacularly! You fail A LOT. But...
PANEL 4: (Closeup of the lower half of Lucifer's face as more tears fall down his cheeks.)
Alastor: (offscreen) ...you're consistently, SINCERELY trying. And that is incredibly important.
PANEL 5: (closeup of Alastor's right eye in profile)
Alastor: It's certainly more than my father ever did.
PANEL 6: (Alastor reaches over and places a hand on Lucifer's, which is still clutching at his upper arm. Though we can't see Lucifer's face, he's sitting a little straighter, looking up at Alastor.)
Alastor: (offscreen) Or yours, for that matter.
END DESCRIPTION]
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Dungeon food, ah, dungeon food
Laios Touden and the Winged Lion
Dungeon Meshi, Ryoko Kui
^ 1: Margaret Atwood, You Are Happy / 2: Grouper, Poison Tree / 3: Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry / 4: Emma Rebholz, No Good Boodsuckers / 5: Natalie Diaz, Postcolonial Love Poem / 6: Tanaka Mhishi / 7: Jenefer Shute, Life-Size / 8 : Yves Olade, Belovéd / 9: Lara Williams, Supper Club / 10: Ovid (tr. Henry T. Riley), The Story of Erysichthon from Metamorphoses / 11: Alex Lemon, Another Last Day / 12: Kathy Acker, Empire of the Senseless / 13: Grouper, Poison Tree / 14: Neil Hilborn, A Place Where Someone Loves You / 15: / 16: Bon Iver & St. Vincent, Roslyn
v 17: Jess Zimmerman, Hunger Makes Me / 18: Yves Olade, Dark When It Gets Dark, “Topograph”
Special credit: Entroponauts gathered most of these
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bakugou watches the news while washing the dishes.
muted, because he wouldn't be able to hear the weatherman over the faucet, anyway, and his brow is furrowed in concentration — at both his hands and the forecast for next week. behind him on the stove the kettle warms and you eye it lazily, jumping back and forth from it to the way bakugou's muscles shift beneath his shirt as he scrubs.
sometimes it amazes you, the strength he's built within his body — the broad span of his shoulders as he rolls them, sleeves almost too tight for his biceps, and the rest of the material hangs loose on his body, swaying off his tiny waist as he swaps weight from one foot to the other — but you know it hasn't come easy; even now, from where you're sitting, the heavy, pink scarring on his cheek is visible when he tips his head down.
you stand quietly, shuffling across the tile of the kitchen until you're close enough to wrap your arms around him. bakugou says nothing as you press your cheek into his back, only peeking over his shoulder when you press a gentle kiss into his soft cotton tee.
"thank you for spoiling me," you murmur, nuzzling further into him when you receive only a grunt, one you feel more than hear. "the food was really good, sweetie-pea."
the silly name makes him snort and he shakes his head when you hum, amused. dinner has made you full and tired and you lean a little further into him than you maybe should, though if he minds at all, he doesn't show it. instead he just sighs, breath stuttering when you slip your hands under the loose material to gently run over his stomach. just like you, he's soft, a tummy full of food, but it's not long before his abdomen is contracting, muscles suddenly tight under your touch.
you laugh quietly into his shoulder, holding back the urge to bite him. "are you flexing, tough guy?"
"shuddup," he grumbles, shifting his weight once more. "...bein' fuckin' touchy."
at that you inch closer, now purposely much too in his space — and yet he still doesn't push you away. around his shoulder, you watch him run a soapless plate under the water for almost two minutes before his focus returns and he moves on, and then you do bite him, because you can't help it.
bakugou hisses and jerks away when your teeth sink into his bicep, flushed face made more obvious as he turns to glare down at you. before he can get a word in, you kiss him in the center of his chest, over the scars of his heart, and offer him a sweet smile.
"love you,"
his eyes dart away on instinct, embarrassed, but he's been working on his vulnerability; his lips twist once before he's pressing them into your hairline, leaning back against you in return as the kettle starts to squeal.
"drink your tea, woman," he grunts, nuzzling into you the tiniest bit before letting you free. "love you, too."
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I was building a theme park out of gingerbread, but all the buildings kept breaking (because they were gingerbread).
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