I’m thinking about coming home to see father bakugo and your daughter sitting in the living with her doing his make up 🥹 and I wanted to share that with you
and it’s your best makeup too. 😒 maybe you have like, idk, one of those hobbyist metal toolboxes that opens in tiers—katsuki bought it for you one year and at the time you had laughed. it wasn’t originally for your makeup—it’s so utilitarian, in it’s dark green. but it matches the black one katsuki had bought for himself, filled with the fine-tipped tools he uses sometimes, to repair his gear at home. 🥺 and you had liked that. 🥺 you liked that he had used something and liked it enough to want to share it with you, too. and now it’s yawning open, pilfered, your expensive eyeshadow in it’s heavy lacquered case in your daughter’s hand, your favourite lipsticks rolling around on the floor like bullet-shell casings.
and you’ve got to give them credit!!! katsuki would never let her be careless with your stuff, even if he thinks the prices you pay for some of them is ridiculous. your daughter is careful, using light fingers even as she frowns at the shimmer she’s smearing under your husband’s brows. they have the same clear, fierce gaze—when you drop your bag they both swivel to look at you, the two of them similarly glittering and rosy and your heart tightens and swells like a balloon, too full for it’s own good.
it’s so funny. your little girl is so like katsuki in moments, standoffish and assessing but when she sees you her face lights up and she’s bounding from her spot, your eyeshadow compact still in her hand as she flings herself at you, letting you pepper her face with kisses.
“you’ve done such a good job,” you tell her, brushing back her hair from her face as she grins, wide and sharp and exactly like her father.
there’s a clatter; katsuki, scooping up your errant lipsticks before standing, the leopard haul of his weight as he squints, moving to you both.
“very pretty,” you tell him fondly, reaching out to touch his jaw. his lips are shinning—a nude lip, widely applied. he bites at your palm, even as your kid makes a small, annoyed noise between you as his hand settles on her head, and when he leans in to kiss you, you smile into the taste of your lipstick.
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Is it just me or does the phrase "dumb Darillium River" make your ears ring too?
That phrase hurts me like crazy because it takes away how the post-Manhattan events affected her so deeply. And now that we have the added knowledge that she gets to see her parents in New York even after Manhattan, THORS now presents itself in a different light.
River's resounding "the Doctor does not and has never loved me" cements the implication that she and the Doctor had a huge row after Manhattan. What would you feel if the love of your life told you he "does not and has never loved" you? Certainly not happy.
Do you know what grief does to one's mind? No matter how brilliant you are, grief changes you. Grief makes you a different person. I would know, having experienced it myself. And River, in her grief, jumped into a headspace that shut out (or tried hard to) the Doctor.
Yes, she should have recognized it was him she had unknowingly dragged along on her space Robin Hood quest, but for her, it isn't him. It wouldn't be. Because that was the last thing she had heard him say.
Grief and pain clouding her mind, she proudly asserts that no, the Doctor isn't there. He won't show up for her. He has never loved her. But of course, she loves him. She's never denied that. But he proves her wrong soon afterwards. Because she is the Woman The Doctor Loves.
So, yes, on the surface level, "dumb Darillium River" seems to be what THORS had made River to be. But no, it wasn't. It isn't. It was about a grieving River and a chance for the Doctor to right his wrong. (And yes, we were robbed of that kiss. Homie here quite clearly wanted one.)
originally posted over on twitter.
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a person who shrunk down to three inches tall roughly five months ago: *finally accepts that they will never grow back and return to a normal life, and are doomed to an overwhelming existence of survival in a world no longer meant for them*
somewhere, in the distance, Rod Sterling looks at the fourth wall: Man that shit was fucked up. Anyways. Tune in next week for more fucked up shit.
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alternative reasons to avoid bringing your brother in law into a conspiracy or a conversation between caesar and cassius
this scene is set sometime after Brutus and Cassius have switched over to Caesar's side during the Pompey-Caesar conflict.
in a different comic, I wrote about about how cassius isn't a dog that needs to be tamed, but that depends on which side of the playing field you're on. if you're Caesar, Cassius is someone you need to leash down immediately, and the complicated social web of debt is one way to do it!
Cassius is inescapably tied to Brutus: the sandbox bond of childhood best friends, brothers-in-law with Servilia bringing Cassius into the family, and a third time with Brutus asking for Cassius' life. if you're going to bring a man who clawed his way out of a horrific defeat that killed your patron and later joined up with your rival in a civil war (twice aligned with the other two heads of the three headed monster you were a part of!) under your heel, reminding him of the only bond that could hope to rival with his family ancestry is one way to do it!
Cic. Phil. 2.26
Brutus, Plutarch (trans. Scott-Kilvert)
The Defeat of Rome: Crassus, Carrhae and the Invasion of the East, Gareth C. Sampson
Civil Wars, Caesar, III. 101 (trans. A. G. Peskett)
Servilia and Her Family, Susan Treggiari
Caesar and the Dangers of Forgiveness, Barry Strauss
tbh, there's probably an additional subtext (there is, I was thinking about it) on how Crassus used 'softer' means than force to bind people to him (again, the politics of debt and patronage) and how Caesar takes after him in some ways here. it didn't last, tho. in 45 BCE Cassius voted against giving Caesar honors. (Cass. Dio 44.8.1)
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