If I were greedy…
I spend a disproportionate amount of time appreciating the addition of these four simple words to the "I really wanted to develop these myself…" line in the manga side scene with how much insight they provide the audience into Ray's mindset during this arc.
Greedy people don't pull off successful escapes. Greedy people risk getting their friends killed. Greedy people end up losing everything.
(Chapter 181.1 | Chapter 4)
It's a layered message to Isabella as well.
You've known what I've wanted for a long time now. None of those three things have changed. You don't have to worry about me betraying you.
The way he looks at her when he says it, too; tries to make himself both nonthreatening to not invoke her ire or suspicion, yet aware enough to convey he can still competently complete his side of their agreement (along with a bit of pettiness, wanting to believe he has more control of the situation and not wanting to let it seem like she can pull a fast one on him. Knowing what's to come in less than 48 hours is heartbreaking), all while having the most subtle sad and tired tinge to his eyes and subdued grin to mask it.
(Because what if things were different for the two of them. For all of them.)
He already believes he's asking for so much, and yet…
(Chapter 181.1 | Chapter 93)
They're worth it.
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I wanted a little undiagnosed TLE Steve Harrington. So I wrote some. He does not have healthy thoughts here.
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"We need to grab the -- the -- its the -- we need to -- its -- that thing that we -- its -- fucking--" Steve stopped to swallow, breathe, shift his jaw and his tongue, scrunch his mouth up, trying to find the magic button that would give him the word he was looking for. It was right there. It was right there. He started talking to Max and Lucas, trying to get some shade set up for the group as they lazed about by the quarry. They were helping as much as any of them ever helped. Steve just needed to remember the word.
For the thing. The thing that he'd grabbed. It was the thing that he got to go with the rope to make the other thing - fuck what was the name of the other thing?
Dropping his head back with a sigh, he closed his eyes, and dropped into mom-pose. It was a helpful refuge when he needed a second.
'You don't get to complain we aren't helping if you don't actually tell us what you want us to do, man."
If they thought he was being bitchy, they didn't notice.
It was the thing. He knew what it was. A bag of them. He bought them a few days ago so they could set up the shade thing. The - uh - the fabric-shade-making-overhead-canopy-hanging-fabric -- The tent! Tent. They were the things that went with the tent. With the rope for the tent. To make it stay in place. The things that went in the ground. He had the mallet with him specifically because of the things. The things for the tent.
He just had to remember what the fuck they were called.
Not because of the kids. He could point. They'd grab them.
He could tell them to grab the orange things, and they'd do it.
He could tell them to grab the bag of things that made the tent stay on the ground, and they'd know what he meant.
That wasn't the point.
He knew the word, he knew he knew the word. But when he reached for it to speak, his hand slipped through air where the word should have been. Like pushing up his glasses when he wasn't wearing them. Like a phone call waiting to connect. Like missing the next step with his foot.
Everyone thought he was an idiot, and he knew, okay, he knew he'd never be as smart as the kids. He knew he was the stupidest person around most days, but he didn't need the reminder. He didn't need to be brilliant, but it had been a whole week of this, constantly this, and it was making him crazy.
There wasn't even a migraine to blame. He knew what to do about those. He thought one was starting, but it never went past nausea and faintness that went in an out for three days. This was just his brain reminding him that he was an idiot. Too stupid to remember the name of a thing he bought a few days ago. Too stupid to remember his own address on the mail order. Too stupid to remember that he already had two huge jugs of laundry soap in the basement when he brought home a third. Too stupid to remember the name of the game the kids played with Eddie.
That one used to be a joke. He made up ridiculous versions. It wasn't a joke this week. He couldn't remember what it was called as he drove over to pick them up, and was saved by the jokes that came before. He wracked his brain the whole time, and couldn't un-abbreviate D&D.
All week long like this, and nothing to blame it on but himself.
One slow exhale, and he resigned himself to it. He couldn't stall longer.
"Lucas, grab the orange sticks in the bag by the cooler. And the mallet."
Max rolled her eyes. "You could have said."
"I did say, thanks."
"Yeah, but before you got grumpy about it."
"This right?" Lucas asked, handing things over.
Anchors.
Right. Anchors. Stakes. Ground Pins. Tent Pegs. Spikes.
That was the fucking word. Several words. All of which abandoned him until he saw them, at which point they all unlocked at once.
"Yeah," Steve muttered. "Need to anchor the... yeah. Go. I'll finish this."
He got to work. It wasn't like he forgot how to do things, or how to use things. He just lost words. Normal people forgot a fancy vocab word or a crossword answer every now and then. Steve wasn't normal.
He was stupid, and it was getting harder to keep hidden just how true that was. He got his frustration out hammering them down, and kept his sunglasses on until his eyes stopped watering.
---
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Video of miles and Peter just made me think to ask… do you have any favorite legacy hero characters 🧐
Darla Dudley Shazam so very much.
Admittedly, they keep putting the Shazamily in powers limbo so she hasn't gotten many chances to step out. I have a whole case for why Darla should flat-out inherit the Champion of Magic title and release Billy from teen samsara but if I get started on that I'll never stop.
In general, if I'm interested in a hero I want to know their title's history from square 1. The one exception to this has been Kamala Khan. I'm sure there are other interesting Marvels out there but I personally don't care. All my favorite elements start with Kamala's solo: shapechanging, street level stakes, subtly bizarro sci-fi worldbuilding, themes of fractured identity and immigrant heritage and the meta imagery of superheroism, Adrian Alphona's art...
Rereading my answer, I realize I chose 2010s era brown girls with lightning bolt motifs branching off of the Captain Marvel name on both sides of the MarvelDC fence. I might have a bit of a type.
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In addition to son boy having apparently added ICIP to his personal playlist*, the other day I heard him quietly singing along to Välikuolema in the car.
Feel weirdly proud about that.
*(he regularly sings along to that one in the car. The other day he called me Tommy Cash, which stunned me to silence - I showed him the video so he had more context for who sings which part, as I don't think he originally knew Jere and Tommy weren't in fact the same guy singing in different languages, but I've told him in no uncertain terms not to look up any of Tommy's other videos...)
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