#liam wayne

[cofradia-thg]

[dulusionalapocaliose]

I desperately need crazy unhinged bossgirl woman and their pathetic man representation. And by that I mean intelligent, ambitious, unhinged, disgustingly educated but hyperfeminine, that knows how to fight magnifically and are mad science smart queens that would do what is needed to get what they want and need, and their husband/boyfriend supporting and following them around like lovesick puppies.

[dailydccomics]

lol Alfred <3 i love you Batman/Catwoman #9

[withacapitalp]

Hidden Valley

Steve managed to get away with hiding his dirty little secret for a whole six weeks. 

Six. Weeks. 

It would be impressive, but in all honesty, it wasn’t exactly that hard to accomplish.

A few things worked out extremely well in Steve’s favor. Not only was Eddie wildly lazy when it came to things he didn’t want to do, but Wayne also worked double shifts pretty much every single day. Both of those things meant that a lot of the housework in the trailer got pushed to the side, in particular the things that they didn’t like doing. It wasn’t that they were slobs, but neither of them really cared as much as Steve did about doing the dishes promptly or getting the laundry done often enough that no one ever had to do a sniff test to see if something was still fresh enough to wear. 

And both of them really hated cooking. 

And so after he moved in, Steve naturally ended up being the one doing most of the chores in the trailer. And, most importantly, Steve was the one making most of the meals. 

He got up early to make breakfast, packed all three of them lunches, and usually put something to marinate in the slow cooker so dinner would be ready and waiting by the time they were all home. Eddie was happy because he loved pretty much anything Steve did for him, Wayne was a lot less exhausted now that he just had to come home, put his feet up, and wait for Steve to tell him to come get a plate, and Steve got to keep his secret. 

So he got a whole six weeks into living with the Munsons before they finally caught on that Steve would only eat when he was the one cooking. 

Read the rest on ao3!

[armed-with-a-waffle-iron]

Kinda perfect that Dick Grayson likes The Beatles while Tim Drake's into Oasis since Dick Grayson is to Tim Drake what John Lennon is to Liam Gallagher.

[jbsforever]

Summary:

It starts the night Batman tries to break one of the most cardinal laws in all of New Jersey: no pumping your own gas.

- - -

Or: as a teenager working at a little gas station in Gotham, Liam has dealt with the craziest of crazies. He thinks he's prepared for anything – until the Batmobile pulls up.

[batmancurated]

by liam sharp

[mo-2020ao3]

I’ve been re-bingeing the first three seasons of Shameless, and it hit me how the Gallagher family dynamics totally sync up with my headcanon for the batkids:

Dick is Fiona; battling EDS (eldest daughter syndrome), shouldering a quasi-parental role amid questionable paternal guidance. He’s responsible, resilient, and selfless, but has his own personal struggles (sometimes stemming from his own family… loves them to death tho)

Jason is Lip; the intellectually gifted but rebellious second eldest. Wrestling with demons, while trying to understand his place within the family. Acts a bit aloof to siblings but would stand ten toes down for them.

Tim is lan; fiercely loyal, a bit of a disaster bi, and mentally ill ((am i projecting…)).

Finally, Damian is Carl; 1/2 feral, 1/4 troublemaker, 1/4 smart🍑. Little to no respect for authority (except family(sometimes)), special interests are weapons, mischief, and instilling fear into those around him. Also Dick is his favorite.

[mikhardwheat]

"He is so me!!" and it's a character that can be used to blackmail me in the future.

[dearlexies]

I just had this idea of a batfam × motorsport au, i mean just imagine: Bruce Wayne is a bored millionaire with lots of money and nothing to do, so he sees Formula 1 as a chance for a big investment. he buys his own team, Wayne's Racing. at the beginning no one had faith that it would work (after all, this is not the first time that a millionaire has bought a team in motorsport and thinks it will be a success ((I'm looking at you Lawrence Stroll))) and of course it didn't work. So Bruce starts investing a LOT in this, Wayne Companies manufactures its own parts, he looks for the best engineers and system analysts in the world to work for him, and of course like any millionaire he puts his children on his team (I'll get to this about nepotism and such later, focus on the team) 2025 is when there is a change in the tide of formula 1, the regulations will change and that is great because now the teams are closer to each other Mercedes is no longer the same and is starting to show signs of weakness, Red Bull it's also not the same since Horner was arrested (bc that's something should actually happen) and Adrian Newey left the team. So now comes the chance for a new team to win. At the beginning all eyes were on Ferrari (as always) Aston Martin which has progressed a lot since the last few years and Mclaren, but then suddenly Wayne's Racing starts winning a lot of races. As the championship comes to an end, Lewis Hamilton wins his eighth title, but Wayne's Racing wins the constructors' championship, leaving everyone shocked. This new team that came out of nowhere only needed one year to become champion and now everyone is extremely curious to see what comes next

Well, other day I will talk about Bruce's kids bc Jason is definitely a motogp rider and there's a lot of drama bc he left Wayne's Racing for Al Ghul Team. and Tim oh he's not a racing drive, he never really liked racing but he likes the technical parts, the engineering, the strategies, so he became a sports journalist and lived his whole life in this environment full of racers. And there's also other characters that I've thought like kon, bart, wally, roy, kori etc

[sarcasticbambi]

Enchanted Chapter I

Next>

“Why did I agree to come again?”

Was the thought running through the heads of two people, neither knowing how the night would end for them.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in one of these events, miss…”

“MDC, Monsieur. You can refer to me as MDC”

“Right… MDC you say…”

“...”

“So, what brings you to the Wayne Gala this year? Oh,I hope you understand the curiosity, it is the first time you’re participating in the event after all.”

Just because you make it sound polite, it doesn’t mean you’re actually being polite you-

To say Marinette was done with the fake and pretentious high-class pigs was the understatement of the century. 

Just because you have enough money to be invited here doesn’t mean you’re all that. It just means that M. Wayne will have more money to donate to the associations that will actually use it for something productive.

But then again, she too was invited so it’s not like she can say much. However, she never covered her words with honey to insult someone.

“I’m here as M. Stone’s plus one” “Wasn’t M. Stone’s plus one his manager Ms. Rolling?”

“No! Haven’t you heard? This year he invited his  designer!” 

Here comes the gossip…

“You mean the very exclusive designer known for working with Clara Nightingale and being the only one capable of keeping up with his extravagant personality?”

“I hear they keep themselves anonymous and so never go to galas and such even though many high-profile personalities invite them everytime.”

“THAT designer?”

The way they all turned to look at her could only be described as a predator ready to launch on their prey.

The compliments were very appreciated, even if her confidence sometimes made her think otherwise. Honestly, if it were in any other situation she’d probably be a blushing and sputtering mess, but considering that it came from these old people with nothing to do but flaunt their money all day, well, lets just say that she felt no remorse in putting the mask of professionalism that often came with dealing with annoying press *cough*Alya*cough* as Ladybug. She just wasn’t sure if the red and gold mask was enough to cover the glare she was sure was on her face. It sure wasn’t enough to cover the deadly annoyed aura she emitted.

“Yes, I-”

“M! There you are! Dad and Penny are looking for you!”

“Oh, Luka! I’ll be right with you! I’m sorry ladies and gentlemen, it seems I’m needed somewhere else. Wouldn’t want to leave M. Stone waiting now would we?”

If Marinette saw the pale faces of the people remembering a certain disaster pertaining to the impatience of one Jagged Stone, neither her nor Luka mentioned anything. And so, the pair of best friends left the group of pretentious old people to their gossip and judging words covered with honey so thick it might as well give you cavities. “Is Uncle Jagged really calling for me?”

“No, but I had to intervene, you looked ready to murder those people with your glare alone!” Luka said with a chuckle. “Ugh! Stop laughing, it’s not funny! Why did I even agree to come again! This is exactly why I’ve rejected all of the invitations!!”

“Well, you know how dad can be…” another chuckle

“Don’t I?! He threatened to destroy one of the suits I made him! And not just any suit, but the one specifically  made to open the stage on his upcoming tour!”

“It can’t be that bad, I mean, you made them almost 100% Jagged proof so no accidents could happen right? Even if he tried I’m pretty sure it’d be very difficult to damage them beyond repair”

“Oh no, you don't understand. He threatened to have Fang “play” with the suit! I may have made them Jagged proof, but they’re hardly CROCODILE PROOF!!”

“... You don’t really believe he’d go that far,do you?”

“Oh dear Luka, I don’t need to believe, I know so. And you want to know how I know that? Because he actually had the audacity of sending a picture of the suit dangling in front of Fang and the little menace looking at it like the most delicious snack ever!!!”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

The silence that fell upon them was the comfortable kind, the one that wraps you like a warm blanket on a cold evening. Even though their relationship didn’t work, they didn’t let that get in the way of a very understanding friendship. Both parties know how to appreciate and lift each other up when needed, especially with the weight of the responsibilities held in their shoulders.

“I think I'm going to stay on the side for a bit. I'm pretty sure if I have to continue another one of these fake conversations, I'm going to say or do something I'll regret and maybe get Uncle Jagged in trouble.”

“It’s ok, after a couple months of following dad to these things I know how bad they can be. And by the way, you - more than anyone else really - should know that my dad doesn’t need you being honest with these people to get him in trouble. He gets himself in trouble all the time! Honestly, I can't say with 100% certainty that trouble isn’t somehow his middle name.” The snort that followed this comment was somehow covered well enough to look elegant, how he did it? She’s still trying to figure it out.

“Yeah, I’m well aware” a soft smile appears on Marinette’s face, memories of various chaotic fittings coming to mind when thinking of her honorary uncle. Sometimes she wonders how Jagged and Anarka managed to give birth to the most quiet (and shy, in Juleka’s case) kids she knows, considering their personalities! Kagami is the only exception to the rule since her quietness and composure comes from years of training and discipline.

“I have to go find dad, you know he needs someone to keep him in check and Penny is trying to get a night to herself. Are you sure you’ll be ok?”

“Yes, I'll be fine. Go find him and help Penny keep the few years that Jagged has yet to make her lose to stress” Marinette said with a giggle.

“Ok, but be safe. If you need anything just call and I’ll be right here.”

“I didn’t know I brought my mum with me.” She said with a roll of her eyes “Don’t worry, I’ll just stay on the side of the room, I’ll even text you if I decide to go and check if the gardens are as amazing as they claim.”

“Ok. I’ll see you in a bit then, you know dad wants to introduce you to his friend.”

“Oui, oui, now leave so I can people watch and judge if these macarons are good enough.”

After one last reluctant look at the petite girl he now considers a sister, Luka left to find his dad.

Marinette walks to the table holding the array of snacks and picks up a pink macaron, turning it side to side judging its appearance first and then taking a small bite. It’s not as good as the ones she bakes with her parents back home, but considering all she has eaten in the US in the past week, suffice to say that it was up to her standards. She would not mind having a second one.

Resting her back against the marble pillar at the corner of the room, she settles with people watching for the time being. Wandering bluebell eyes land on the group of kids on the other side of the room where they were playing with each other, before spotting the tall ginger gentleman in a crouch speaking with a little girl. At first she was suspicious, but judging by the little she can see of the interaction - the little girl giggling at something the man said - she relaxes a bit more, guessing it’s someone she knows or is acquainted with.

After people watching for a couple moments more, she gets bored and decides to indeed check the famous Martha Wayne Gardens, perhaps she’ll even get a strike of inspiration, who knows. Sending a message to Luka so he doesn’t worry,  she moves along to the exit, unaware of the little green eyes following her form.

-----------------------------

Roy Harper was definitely not listening to Jason Todd ever again. No matter what.

“It’ll be fun!” he said.

“I’ll be there with you the whole time!” he said.

“Lian will have fun!” he said-

Ok, that last one is true. She is enjoying herself and playing with kids her age outside of school. But still, WHY DID I AGREE TO COME TO ONE OF THESE THINGS? The suits are uncomfortable, the people are annoying, Jason is off somewhere (probably at the bar avoiding the dangling pieces of meat that can’t seem to understand the word ‘no’) the list goes on and on!

Turning around, Roy leaves to go check on the kids. He knows he doesn’t need to worry, the Waynes would obviously only get the best of the best, security included, so he knows his daughter is in good hands. But he still prefers it when he has eyes on his little girl, no need for unnecessary troubles…

And Jason can make fun of how she has him wrapped around her pinky all he wants, later.

Not like you can say much right, Uncle Jay Jay?

Going up to the little kids group, Lian spots him immediately and runs up to him, mischief clear in the same green eyes he sees everyday in the mirror.

“Hey baby. Everything good?”

“Of course daddy, I’m a big girl now! You don't need to go around worrying about me!” she exclaimed, puffing her little chest up and making herself seem taller to get her point across.

“I know princess. I’m sorry for doubting your capability of not getting yourself in trouble or not creating chaos”

“*le gasp* Daddy!” The grin that appeared on his face betrayed the look in his eyes. He would do anything to protect his little girl, mischievous or not. He’d do anything for her, hunt the whole world down for whatever she asked and from whoever had it, if only to be able to keep that smile on her little face everyday.

“I don’t get in trouble! Trouble is the one to always find me! What do you want me to do, ignore it? You yourself said that it was rude to ignore people..”

Oh Lord. She knew exactly what she was doing, and there was absolutely nothing he could do, so with a resigned sigh he looked up at his daughter again and cleans the little bit of cream from the pastry she was eating earlier.

“Was the cream puff so good that even your cheeks wanted a bite?”

“Yes! You should try some yourself!” The little giggle she released hid the glance she threw at the masked lady on the other side of the room.

“Let's go then.”

—----------------------------------------------

Glancing around, the gardens were indeed quite beautiful. It’s a pity that Martha Wayne passed away, because even though it’s been years since the accident and someone else is in charge of it, it’s very obvious that the foundation of the garden is still the same as it was some twenty years ago.

With the care she is sure the gardens receive everyday, she can see why they’re called the best gardens in Gotham after the Gotham Botanical Gardens. But that is only because it’s Ivy who’s taking care of them - it doesn’t matter how good you may be at caring for plants, no one can beat Poison Ivy’s ability of bringing them to the best of their potential. 

It’s not long after moving around the gardens that Marinette hears her name being shouted from the entrance of it. 

guess it’s time to go back to that insanity. It was good while it lasted

Getting up from the bench she found around one of the several fountains, she fixed her dress and moved back inside.

——————————————-

Seeing Lian try and “sneak” another cream puff from him, Roy decides that that’s enough. 

“Come on little troublemaker, enough cream puffs. Your daddy won’t be able to endure another sugar high session.”

Ladies and gentlemen and non-binary people, this single statement brings forth the most challenging battle Roy has ever fought - and if you know about his… nightly past time, you know that he’s had several and very complicated battles, some even had him on the brink of death!

I introduce you, ‘The Pout’, by Lian Harper!

Obviously, Roy can never say no to his precious little girl. Who would be able to after seeing ‘The Pout’. At this point, not even Jason can say he’s managed to achieve such a feat!

“Princess, baby, light of my life, don’t do this to me. Please!”

“But daddy, just one more!” ‘The Pout’ intensifies…

“You said that last time too…”

“I promise! I’ll even get away from the table! We can go outside to the gardens!” 

If Roy wasn’t so desperate to get his daughter away from the pastry and snacks table, he would have been able to identify the glint that appeared in his daughter’s eyes whenever she was up to no good. But alas, he was too busy.

“Ok honey, one last one and that’s that! You promised!”

“Yes, yes. Now let’s go into the gardens! I saw a fairy move there and I DEFINITELY need to meet her!”

“… a fairy?” The look of confusion on his face spoke volumes.

“YES! She was wearing a gold and red dress! And her hair was so pretty too! It shone in the light! I’m pretty sure only fairies’ hair shines like that!”

Thinking it was another one of Lian’s fairytail settings where he’s required to play along and help her uncover mysteries or save someone (*cough*princess Lian*cough*), Roy just sets her down, holds her hands and guides her to the closest balcony. It’s too cold outside for them to actually walk around the garden, but it’ll be fine to stay on the balcony where they can oversee them. Should be enough for whatever adventure Lian’s mind conjured this time. 

—--------------------------

“Daddy look! It’s the fairy!”

Looking out the balcony towards where Lian's small fingers pointed, Roy finally understood what she meant when she said she saw a fairy. 

There, standing in front of the fountain with a glass of what he can only assume to be the expensive champagne being handed around the party, stood the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid his eyes upon. Luscious strands of midnight hair fell down her back only to stop at the small curvature of her back. The strands were so dark it shone blue in the light of the full moon that for once was visible in the dark, gloomy and foggy sky of good old Gotham.

Her red dress fell down to the crisp grass he was sure Alfred kept at the exact same even height every single time. Whoever made the dress, knew for sure what they were doing, because it seemed to float even though he saw it drag through the grass  when she moved. Although there wasn't much he could make out from the distance he was observing her, he could still see the shine of the gold lining and details in the dress with the small movements she made. 

And wasn't that a blessing. Because when she moved, he was able to see a bit more of her features; the pale skin that seemed to glisten in the moonlight, and the blue orbs that shone as bright as the bluest of sapphires to have ever been found, looked in his direction, and he was sure that time stopped right then and there. 

Like some kind of spell, he was entranced by the beauty that stood feet away from him surrounded by the most beautiful of greenery, making her fit for the word his daughter had used to describe her: a fairy. A Garden Fairy. He should tell Alfred that he did such a good job at keeping the garden in shape, that it was blessed by the presence of the most ethereal of fairies.

After a couple seconds of eye contact, her attention was given to something else - probably someone calling her, from the way she seemed to react. And so, after another glance his way, the Garden Fairy (as he’s decided to call her until he finds out her name) turns fully towards the building and starts walking inside, finally vanishing under the big balcony he was standing in.

“Awww, she left Daddy!” his daughter spoke for the first time since getting into the balcony with him. Or he’s assuming it was the first time, since he was completely  entranced by the Garden Fairy and would probably not have heard any comment from his daughter. Which, by her mischievous smirk, was a very accurate assumption.

“She was very pretty wasn’t she? I told you she was! Did you see her hair? I told you it was amazing! I also want hair like hers!!”

“Yes, yes she was. And you were very right, she does have pretty hair. Maybe we should get back inside to get away from the cold and maybe find this Garden Fairy of yours to get some hair tips?”

“That’s a great idea! Let’s go!”

Picking up the 6 years old, Roy turns around to head into the salon, when his daughter gets his attention again. And the look in her eyes? It spelled trouble.

“But Daddy, I never called her Garden Fairy!”

Next>

[cofradia-thg]

[karinhart]

assorted mistos 🐈‍⬛

left to right: timothy scott, jacob brent, wayne sleep, ricky ubeda, liam mower, guy-paul de st germain, joseph poulton, pierpaolo scida ✨

[ID: A series of drawings, from the shoulders up, of eight different people who have played Mistoffelees in the musical Cats, in costume. The spaces between them are decorated with white sparkles against the black background. /end ID]

[dailydccomics]

Batman by Liam Sharp Batman: Reptilian #3

[withacapitalp]

Countdown Pt 3

Part One Part Two

Tw: Slight suicidal ideation and general grieving

--------------------------------------

They only carry a couple things with them on the run. 

Surviving the apocalypse isn’t pretty, and it’s easier to make a quick escape if they’re always traveling light. Essentials only, with a few sentimental items so they don’t completely lose their minds. 

Nancy had her journals, Max had her skateboard (even if she couldn’t use it right now), Will brought a pack of colored pencils, and Steve was pretty sure Hopper had somehow saved a half a pack of smokes. 

And Steve….Steve has a shoebox. 

It’s an old thing, held together with duct tape and decorated with sharpie doodles. Wayne had given it to him right before he left town, along with the necklace that Steve kept around his neck every moment of every day. 

He’s never let any of them look in it. They think he’s insane, but they’re not the ones with zeroed out timers.

This shoebox is all he has left of his soulmate. 

What’s inside would seem like junk to most people. A handful of rocks of varying size, shapes, and colors. A leather cuff with spikes that Steve had immediately put around his timer wrist to hide it from view. A matchbook from a gay bar in Indianapolis, a Spalding bouncy ball. Some hand-sewn patches with logos he didn’t recognize, three different mini figures, a dozen faded beautiful photographs, and a single mixtape. 

Only Robin knew about the mixtape. He had only told her in case they needed a song for him. That mixtape was the only thing in the world that had the song that could save his life. 

But the most important thing in that box was the letters. 

He read one every night. He had promised himself he wouldn’t read more than one. It was routine. When it was his turn to be on watch and the rest of their family was sound asleep, Steve would open his shoebox, pull out a letter, and read it. 

The first one is probably his favorite. It was written in dark red marker on yellow construction paper, the edges ripped and torn with age. The marker bled through the back of the paper where the child who wrote the letter had pressed down too hard, and Steve could imagine the way his fingers must have stained from the ink. Blood red. The same way his fingers were stained when he died. 

7/4/1971 

TWO SULMAYT,

HI.

I AM EDDIE MUNSON. I AM FIVE YEARS OLD. I LIKE TRUKS. YU SHUD LIKE THEM TO. WE CAN WATCH THE BIG TRUKS! 

WHAT IS YUR NAMY? 

BIE

LUV EDDIE

P. S. I HAD A NANA FOR BRIKFEST. YUM. 

There was a picture of two giant monster trucks under the words, and a tiny thing Steve assumed was a banana under the postscript. Steve keeps that one tucked in his jacket pocket, just in case he ever loses his bag or his precious shoebox. 

He keeps the first in his side pocket, and keeps the last one in the breast pocket right above his heart

6/13/1986

Hi Love,

The first one says ‘Two Sulmayt’ but every one after that starts with ‘Hi Love’. 

Steve can’t help wondering if Eddie would have eventually called him ‘Love’ if they had gotten more time. 

Well, if you’re reading this, then I guess my plan to be the one that lived really didn’t work out. Damn, that sucks. Probably a little bit more for you than for me. 

I don't know how you dealt with knowing we only had five days, but I thought it was kinda fucked. Like damn, really? Five? The universe sure has a funny sense of humor, doesn’t it, Love? Or maybe it just hates me. That is also a very real possibility. 

Maybe. But if the universe hated Eddie, then it must hate Steve more for making him continue to live. For giving him other people to love, people to care about, people to force him to not give up. 

Anyways this is how I dealt with it. If you only get five days to have me, I’m going to make sure you know me. Or know who I was at least. One letter a month for the last 12 years, and a bunch of random one off ones from when I was little. Before I lived with Wayne it was kind of catch as catch can with paper and stuff, and I was also like seven, so how many letters do you really want from a seven year old who still can’t spell ‘Difficulty’?

I know how to now, by the way. Mrs. D, Mrs. I, yada yada. Do you ever wonder why all those women are married? I think that’s stupid. Forced conformity, even in our nursery rhymes. 

That joke always made Steve laugh. He’s read this letter so many times it’s starting to come apart at the creases, but it still made him pause and chuckle. 

Anyways. This is yours. Eleven letters a year for twelve years is one hundred and thirty two. Adding in the ones from before, it’s probably around a hundred and fifty. It’s not the same as having me around, but if you spread them out, you might get thirteen years or so before you have to start rereading them. 

Or read them all in one sitting. Do whatever you want. 

Steve had counted. It was one hundred and forty one. He read one new one a night, because every single day they survived seemed like a miracle right now. 

He only had seventy three more left. 

Not like I can stop you, haha. 

That’s probably not as funny to you as I want it to be. Sorry, Love. 

It wasn’t funny. Not in the slightest. Steve wanted Eddie here, wanted him to tell him to wait. He wanted Eddie to write him more letters. 

Oh, I also included a bunch of stuff I thought was too cool to lose, and a mixtape with songs that I wrote for my band. I thought you might want to get to hear my voice. It’s probably stupid, but you don’t have to listen to them if you don’t want to. 

Steve listened to it. They had been forced to scrounge up new batteries for his walkman three times because it kept dying. 

Everything in this box is yours, Wayne has strict instructions to give it to you. And, anything of mine Wayne doesn’t want is for you too.

Wow. A whole trust fund of trailer park trash. Some people leave their soulmates huge inheritances. I left you rocks and pictures and a shit ton of letters. Aren’t you lucky, Love? 

He was lucky. He had seventy three more letters. Seventy three more reasons to survive another day. 

After that…Steve wasn’t sure if he would be lucky anymore. 

Now if you’re good at math- which I hope you are, because I’m terrible at it- then you might be saying to yourself ‘Is my soulmate an idiot? Does he not know there’s twelve months in a year?’ 

No. I’m actually incredibly smart, even though my grades don’t really show it. I rewrite this top of the box letter every year on my birthday, and then I burn the last one. It’s a fun, extremely morbid, tradition. 

I’m 20 today, Love. I wonder how old you are a lot. I hope you’re close to my age at least. Maybe you’re like fifty years older than me, and I meet you when you’re on your deathbed, and that’s why we only have five days. 

They had only gotten five days because Steve hadn’t just taken Eddie and run. He should have just told Eddie to go as far from Hawkins as possible the second he realized. Fuck the rest of the world, fuck stopping the apocalypse. The best part of Steve was already dead. 

Two whole decades, but somehow I’m still in high school. I failed. Again. I wrote a lot about it in my letter last month, so I’m not going to talk about it again. Suffice to say I’m pretty bummed. I mean, c’mon, even Steve Harrington managed to graduate last year, and that guy barely even went to class during senior year. 

That part of the letter always made his stomach turn. He hated the reminder of all the wasted time, the little nudge that always told him it was his fault they barely had any time. 

If he had only looked up. 

Oh, well. This one is it. ‘86 baby! I’d say I want this to be the year I meet you, but I really want to graduate, so maybe hold off for just one more year? Stay wherever you are for just twelve more months, Love, just to be safe. Then I can put a picture of me flipping off my principal in this box for you. I’ll add my diploma in too, just to prove to you I did it. 

Eddie wasn’t going to get a diploma. 

If you wait a year, I’ll give you twelve more letters. So just wait one more year. By then, I think I’ll know what to say to make this better. I’ll know what to do to fill the gap I know you’re going to have. I’ll have something to say that will fix all this. I say that every year, and I never do, but hey, ‘86. 

Nothing anyone said would fix this. Nothing Eddie could write would fill the hole left in Steve’s soul. Nothing. 

I’m sorry. 

I say that every year too. 

Steve didn’t want apologies. He didn’t want letters. He didn’t want a hard to hear voice on a single mixtape. 

He wanted Eddie. 

Well. Happy birthday to me. One more year without meeting you. Eleven more letters. You better be doing something just as nice for me in case it's you that bites it, or I’m bringing your ass back just to kill you again. 

Steve didn’t care if Eddie killed him. Eddie could reappear right now and immediately shoot Steve and he would die happy. He just wanted one more minute. Just a little more time. 

…Wait just a little bit longer. I’ll have better words next year. 

Can you do that for me, Love?

P.S. You should read the first letter I wrote to you, just to appreciate how eloquent and charming I am in this one. 

Eddie called him ‘Love’. Eddie asked him to wait. Eddie wanted to have the right words. He wanted to live long enough to save Steve from his own broken heart.

Steve wishes he had waited.  

[steddieas-shegoes]

You know sometimes I do wonder if Wayne Munson had a moment of doubt.

This man is a saint from what we can tell from the few minutes he had of screen time, but right when he walked into that trailer and saw Chrissy, don’t you think for at least a moment, he believed Eddie had done something.

I’m not saying he wanted to believe it or even that he believed it for more than a quick second, but there had to be that voice in his head asking himself why the hell Eddie would run if he didn’t do it.

It fades quickly, and he defends his boy to everyone: the cops, the public, whoever he has to.

But then the guilt settles in because he realizes that something bigger is going on. He doesn’t know what, he doesn’t really care what, he just knows that Eddie didn’t do a damn thing wrong. But he thinks about that first moment constantly. That one single moment where he let himself think that Eddie maybe was who everyone in town thought he was.