#loving jealous max

[boltsinmycereal]

Lando, Max, and Ria reacting to CarLando in DTS 🧡❤️

Via Quadrant on YouTube

[rue-isabelle]

Aphrodite of Formula 1

Yn had never imagined working as Toto’s personal assistant would put her in the spotlight. Her days were filled with managing schedules, coordinating meetings, and ensuring the smooth running of the Mercedes team. She loved her job—it was busy yet calm, a perfect balance for her. But what she didn’t realize was how much her presence had captivated the entire Formula 1 paddock.

She was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t just her looks. Yn was gentle, intelligent, and kindhearted, with an easygoing demeanor that made her magnetic to everyone she met. Her ability to handle pressure while keeping a warm smile never went unnoticed—especially by the drivers.

---

Charles and Alexandra

Charles leaned against the wall of the Mercedes hospitality, watching Yn chat animatedly with Toto. His lips curved into a soft smile as he took in her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with genuine interest in every conversation.

Alexandra stood nearby, fuming. “I don’t get it,” she muttered under her breath.

“What’s that?” Charles asked, not looking at her.

Alexandra crossed her arms. “What’s so special about her? She’s just… Toto’s assistant.”

Charles finally turned to face her, his smile gone. “Don’t talk about Yn like that.” His tone was sharp, protective.

Alexandra blinked in surprise. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just saying—”

“She’s kind, she’s smart, and she doesn’t need to try. She’s perfect just the way she is. She isnt.tge one.getting jealous about every tiny thing. And to be honest, she is a better person than you will ever be. At least she doesn't use me for fame and my name. She would never be a gold digger and has never done anything to you. You are the one acting fragile and shy, while we both know you are just jealous. Yn has always been a sweetheart to you and i wont let you talk liek that to her.” Charles said firmly.

Alexandra felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She had tried everything to mimic Yn’s effortless grace, from her style to her mannerisms, but it only made her feel more inadequate. The problem was that she didn't have Yn big heart and good soul.

Charles sighed and walked away, disappointed to call her his girlfriend, leaving Alexandra standing there, humiliated. Her cheeks were a deep shade of red. Some people nearby were giving her dirty looks. She glanced back at Yn, who was now walking towards the drivers’ paddock, blissfully unaware of the tension she had caused.

---

Carlos and Rebecca

Rebecca wasn’t blind. She could see the way Carlos’s eyes followed Yn every time she entered the room. He would light up like a kid in a candy store, his usually suave demeanor crumbling into something boyish and endearing. Sometimes, he would even beg his cousin to take a picture of Yn, just so he could see her every day. She was his wallpaper on his phone after all.

“Carlos,” Rebecca said one evening as they sat in their hotel room.

“Hmm?” he murmured distractedly, scrolling through his phone, looking at Yn Instagram. Oh, how he wished to be there right now. He was the one sending her flowers every week, paying her rent, and sending her random gifts.

“You’re in love with Yn, aren’t you?”

Carlos froze, his thumb hovering over the screen. “What? No! I mean… she’s great, but—”

Rebecca laughed softly, cutting him off. “It’s okay. I get it.”

Carlos looked at her, guilt written all over his face. “Rebecca, I—”

She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t blame you. Yn is… amazing.” Her voice softened as she spoke.

Rebecca’s thoughts drifted for a moment, imagining herself with Yn, walking down an aisle, just the two of them in some intimate, fairy-tale wedding. She could see it in front of her, their beach house in Malibu. They would go shopping every day, she would dress Yn in the finest clothes. She could imagine Yn pregnant, carrying their child. She would kiss her breathless, lead her into their bedroom and...

She snapped back to reality and cleared her throat. “I’m not mad. I just wish…”

“Wish what?” Carlos asked cautiously.

Rebecca didn’t answer. Instead, she turned away, her mind swirling with thoughts of Yn’s gentle smile. Oh, how she wished to finally leave Carlos. She played often with the thought about breaking up with Carlos and running away. Oh, what a beautiful dream, a life without Carlos obsession over Yn, while she obsesses over her.

---

Max and Kelly

Max was leaning against the Red Bull garage, trying—and failing—to look casual as Yn walked by. Kelly noticed the way his entire demeanor changed when Yn was around. It was infuriating.

“Max,” Kelly said sharply.

He tore his gaze away from Yn and looked at Kelly. “What?”

“You’re staring at her again.”

Max frowned. “I wasn’t—”

“You were.” Kelly’s voice was bitter. “You act like she’s the only person in the world when she’s here.”

“She’s nice,” Max said defensively. “And she works hard. What’s wrong with that?”

Kelly scoffed. “You’re obsessed with her. Everyone is.”

Max didn’t deny it. Instead, he looked back towards Yn, who was now chatting with George and Oscar. “It’s not like she’s trying to get anyone’s attention. That’s what makes her… different.”

Better, was what he was thinking. There were so many moments where Max knew Kelly was just using him for his fame and that he could be a father to Penelope. He told everyone the age difference didn't matter, but it did. He felt like he was in a relationship with his own mother.

Kelly’s jealousy bubbled over, but she bit her tongue, knowing any outburst would only make Max more defensive. Oh, how she wanted that little disease called Yn to vanish forever from her life.

---

Oscar and Lily

Oscar was shy by nature, and his crush on Yn only amplified it. He could barely string a sentence together when she was around, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red whenever she smiled at him.

“You should talk to her,” Lily said encouragingly.

Oscar shook his head furiously. “I can’t. What would I even say?”

“Anything! Just be yourself,” Lily said with a laugh. “She’d probably find it adorable.”

Oscar groaned. “Lily, she’s way out of my league.”

“Everyone feels that way about her,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. “But she doesn’t act like it. That’s why everyone loves her. Including me, by the way.”

Oscar’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

Lily grinned. “What? I can’t appreciate Yn too?”

---

George and Carmen

Carmen adored Yn like a little sister. She often invited her to lunch, bought her small gifts, and even shared personal stories about her relationship with George.

“She’s like family,” Carmen said one evening as she and George prepared for a gala.

George forced a smile, adjusting his tie in the mirror. “Yeah… family.”

Carmen didn’t notice the wistful look in his eyes or the way he always seemed to find excuses to spend more time with Yn. The way he always had to walk up those stairs behind her, to make sure she didn't trip (and to admire her ass). Or his need to always show her how to do every training workout right (imaging her sweaty skin underneath his rough palm for a different scenario)

“You should invite Yn to the gala,” Carmen suggested. “I think she’d enjoy it.”

George’s heart skipped a beat. “You think so?”

“Of course! I’ll text her now,” Carmen said cheerfully. Oh, how excited she was to see her baby again. Her beautiful innocent angle.

George nodded, hiding the turmoil inside. He loved Carmen deeply, but Yn… Yn had a way of making the world seem brighter.

---

Pierre and Kika

Kika and Pierre didn’t hide their admiration for Yn. They often joked about being in a polyamorous relationship with her, though there was a hint of seriousness in their laughter.

“She’s perfect,” Kika said one evening as they lounged in their hotel room.

Pierre grinned. “I know. But don’t get any ideas—she’s mine.”

Kika raised an eyebrow. “Yours? I don’t think so. If anything, she’d pick me.” Deep down, she wished Yn would pick them over anything.

Pierre laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.” Hoping, to one day call this woman their wife.

Despite their playful rivalry, they both knew Yn was oblivious to their feelings—and to everyone else’s, for that matter.

They didn't need to talk about the things they imagined doing with her. If it could just be easier.

---

Yn hummed to herself as she sorted through some paperwork in Toto’s office. She loved the quiet moments when she could focus on her tasks, unaware of the chaos she caused outside her bubble.

When Toto walked in, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re always so calm. It’s impressive, considering how much you have to deal with.”

Yn smiled. “I like keeping busy. It makes the day go by faster.”

Toto chuckled. “You’re something else, Yn. Don’t ever change.”

She didn’t notice the knowing look Toto gave her or the way the drivers seemed to hover outside the door, hoping for a chance to talk to her. To Yn, it was just another day at work—a job she genuinely loved, with people she genuinely cared about.

Little did she know, the entire grid worshipped her.

Part 2. Part 3

[adimouze]

something something max always wanting to leave and daniel always wanting to stay but the universe always making max the one who stays and daniel the one who leaves

[redgoldblue]

so assuming Avery is actually pregnant / doesn't early-trimester miscarry (which is not a given), there's two reasonable ways this can go, right. number one is she gets an abortion, the plotline is used to pull them all back together again, and they all have some collective hurt/comfort about it. number two, the one i would write - don't get me wrong, i'm all for women getting career-driven abortions, but hear me out - is the one where she does have the baby. under the cut bc it got long.

she goes to med school at first while pregnant - Max is right, it can be done, people in my cohort did it - and either gets lucky with the timing of the actual birth being during holidays, or just works her way to getting time off for a few weeks around it. And then... there's a baby. And you know what else there is? There's two dads (because we're 100% Mamma Mia-ing this bitch. they never find out who the bio dad is and they never seriously try. Baby comes out with Avery's exact skin tone so that's no clue.), and an entire cruise ship worth of backup babysitters. So Avery goes back to med school, and leaves the baby with Tristan and Max.

And, yes, raising a baby while also running an infirmary with a rotating cast of temporary substitute nurses filling Avery's role isn't the easiest thing they've ever done, but Robert loves fulfilling grandparent duties any time he's not on duty; Rosie gets one of those strap-on baby carriers and walks her (i don't know why i've decided the baby is a her but i have now) around the engine room pointing out parts and explaining concepts and hey, the baby never complains about her Michigan stories; Corey gets a cart and a bundle of clean sheets and pushes her down the corridors until the smell of laundry powder automatically makes her start laughing.

Max and Tristan make a pact to send Avery at least two photos a day - which ends up getting supplemented by everyone else who's with Baby - and FaceTime her most days, and whenever she gets a few days off she meets them in port. (The most expensive part of baby-raising ends up being her flights to wherever the Odyssey happens to be at the time, at least until Robert finds out and figures out a way to start paying her 'maternity leave', despite her insistence that the whole point of this is that she isn't maternity-leaving and he should probably be paying himself that and anyway, isn't she technically not an employee right now?)

And the thing is, during this time, Max and Tristan start... realising some things. Like how neither of them feel like they've lost their only partner, because they.. haven't. Like how the co-parenting's been working out better than either of them expected, because they fell instantly (minus a few minor bumps) into a shared rhythm. Like how sometimes they look at the other one holding Baby and feel like their heart's about to explode.

Also, they've both started sleeping in Max's bed. Because Baby's spent so much time sleeping in the corner of the infirmary that now if she wakes up at night and can't see both of them, she starts crying inconsolably. And obviously Max's suite is more suited to multiple inhabitants, and they're usually too damn exhausted to even remember the first time they were in this bed together.

(usually. most of the time. and when they're not, they don't make it the other's problem)

So at the end of the first year of this, the last two days of the year's last cruise have been packed with crisis after crisis after demanding patient after crisis, and as soon as they finally wave the last passenger off they hand Baby gratefully over to Robert and go crash out in Max's bed.

Avery was supposed to be meeting them on board tomorrow, but her last exam gets unexpectedly moved up by a day (believe me, med school loves to pull that kind of shit on you), so a couple hours after the passengers have gone, she shows up to surprise them. And finds Robert (a known ody3 shipper) first, who lets her take Baby with minimal captainly sulking about it, and while she rocks and kisses Baby, tells her (as a known ody3 shipper) that the two dads will be on the Pelican deck, but they're probably asleep.

Avery kinda frowns at him, but doesn't question it, and takes Baby up with her to Max's suite to find them. And they are both fast asleep, on either side of Max's bed with a space carefully preserved between them (because it's usually where Baby would be and they're both terrified of accidentally rolling onto her in the middle of the night). She's also exhausted after exams, so she crawls into it, lies on her back with Baby on top of her chest, and goes straight to sleep.

Tristan and Max wake up before her, and when they look across at each other, at Avery and Baby between them, they both simultaneously realise, oh. oh. oh, this - this three, two-and-half, four people, all together - this is it. this is the love, this is the children, this might even be the home - the second, third, fourth bucket list items to happen in this bed.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

why do i feel like erik would get a little jealous at how attached charles is to the cat and how much attention it’s getting from him

erik 'michael' 'magnus' 'max' lehnsherr is above getting jealous over a cat ok he knows charles loves him more than a silly lil furless furball

Magneto however.

[mjfass]

Yuta making his entrance with his childhood hero, him in commentary during his match, being in the same stable as him, training with him, being part of his retirement storyline… Yuta and Bryan have something so special.

[archduchessofnowhere]

Elisabeth is so upset by this I love it

[im-not-a-l0ser]

I think the idea of Richie having a body pillow of Max being very funny, in a michie context of course.

Especially, a Secret Relationship Michie context. Could you imagine Ruth snooping around his bedroom for like porn or whatever, and finding it? And then going on a long rant about how it's probably not healthy to equate their berator with anything intimate, which she ends with asking to borrow it.

[givehimthemedicine]

Max is so emotionally constipated and sarcastic and guarded. she wants to be included and to show and be shown tenderness so badly but both are so hard for her. she's had a front row seat to relationships crashing and burning and it made her build walls before it was even her turn for relationships. she'll show up, she'll pick locks, she'll audition relentlessly for a role that does not exist, she'll fight for her spot, she'll prove herself. she'll walk away, she won't fall for it, she'll accept insults she thinks she deserves, she'll leave before she's left. she'll disguise hurt as anger and add another brick until nobody can see her anymore and then she'll cry that she's alone.

El grew up in a cage and she's cannonballing into a human life that she learned from soap operas five minutes ago. she's eager to love big and messy and full of mistakes and unashamed. she'll knock anyone on their ass who tries to take what she's decided is hers. she'll kill for her friends, she'll die for them, she'll caress their hair when she hugs them. she'll seek the acceptance of someone she's already rejected. she'll drop the most dramatic line and not bat an eye. she'll bleed and scream and cry in front of everyone, she'll tell a room full of bullies that her dad is her hero, she'll say I love you when no one's ever said it to her. she will have love in her life even if she has to drag it by the ankle. and if she's separated from it she'll escape, she'll break rules, she'll go defcon 1, she'll defy natural laws, she won't stop at death. she'll give of her own heartbeat to get it back.

[elderdragonblu]

Victoria, bursting through the door: You two are having SEX!

Max, confused: We are?

Rachel: Damn, Max. Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve put my book.

[scxrlettp]

Writing Chestappen is becoming my favorite thing to do. ♥️

[123pixieaod]

Tried to write a fun little fic about why Daniel unfollowed on Instagram Zak, Michael, Fernando, and Nicki, the most random quartet possible, only to end up with this lol

Daniel finally answers a call at just gone 4.30am, Max's time. It's 5.30am, Daniel's time, which admittedly is only marginally better, but maybe the hospital he's in has some crazy Get-Up-And-Seize-The-Day sort of ethos. Although from what Christian has told him, Daniel might not be seizing anything, metaphorically or otherwise, for some time.

"Daniel," Max says as soon as he hears the line clicking through. "How are you? How do you feel? Is your wrist alright? Do the doctors and nurses take care of you, do they speak English, or did Red Bull send a Spanish translator and I hope I have not woken you up and-"

He cuts himself off. There's a sort of stunned silence on the other side of the line. Sometimes, Max thinks his need for Daniel is a bottomless pit, something that has hollowed him out and leaves an ache echoing through him.

"Max?" Daniel says, incredulous. High, drugged up, gone on pain medication. "How did you get into my phone?!"

Max squeezes his eyes shut. His mouth is twisted, making some shape. A smile, a frown? He doesn't know, nobody can see him in his old childhood bedroom.

He wants to be with Daniel. He wants to brush a hand through his curls and run his fingertips along the lines of his faded tattoos like how a child would first begin to trace letters and numbers.

I miss you, he wants to say

I want you

I need you

"I'm not in your phone," he says instead, tone light and soft. "I called you. I am in the Netherlands."

"Oh," Daniel says, as if the fact Max had not been magically transformed into his phone is mildly disappointing. "What are you doing there?"

"We had a race, remember?" Max says. He's stretched out on his old bed. His feet dangle just slightly off the edge, and each year, he's promised a new one, bigger and larger and finally a grown-up bed. But it never materialises and Max has stopped bringing it up now.

The room is unchanged. Around him, the faces of former racing legends watch him, tapped to his wall. Above, stars look down, stuck to his ceiling in haphazard patterns. The day his father got to play God and created universes and cosmos splayed above his head.

"Of course," Daniel huffs good naturedly. "You won, Maxy."

"I know," Max replies softly.

"It was your ninth consecutive win," Daniel continues, his tone strong and proud, as if it's Daniel who has achieved it. Maybe he's so high on meds he thinks it is, that him and Max are some sort of Jeckyl and Hyde being, two sides of the same life. Max doesn't know. A headache is building behind his eyes. He hasn't really slept since Friday, three days previous.

"You're now equalling Sebastian Vettle. If you win the next race, you'll beat the record." Daniel continues before pausing, as if realisation is only just dawning. "I don't think I'll be there."

"No," Max murmurs. "I don't think you will be either."

"My wrist is really fucked," Daniel goes back to his jubilant tone, like a child with the best show and tell in school. "I have a metal plate in it, isn't that neat?"

He laughs. Max closes his eyes, just listening to the sound. "Imagine if it goes off at every airport security, Maxy? How annoying with that be?" He laughs again, the prospect sounding delightful to him in that very moment.

Max hums softly, and then shifts on the bed, turning away from the stars his father hung up for him. Instead, he moves to his side, facing a giant poster of Micheal Schumacher celebrating one of his championships. At the bottom, Max, to great things! MS. He was six. It was one of the best Christmas presents his dad had ever gotten him.

"How do you feel?" He asks. Daniel is humming a tune under his breath, the theme song to some gameshome Max barely recognises. He stops at Max's question.

"Good," he says happily. "I have gained deep clarity."

That shocks a laugh out of Max, as only Daniel, even doped, drugged Daniel, can do. The longing feels physical, the hole never ending in his chest. He closes his eyes, blocking out the stars and racing legends whose shine has faded and whose records he's now beating.

In another life, he thinks, he would be there. He'd be the first face Daniel would see, the first hand he'd get to hold, the first for nearly everything, just like Daniel had been for Max.

But instead they're a time zone apart and Daniel is alone in a country where he can't even speak the language and Max is in his childhood bedroom, surrounded by his family who are fast sleep and utterly oblivious to the fact he's gay, let alone in a relationship with Daniel Ricciardo.

"Clarity," Max forces his mind back on track. "How so?"

"Oh you know," Daniel says with ease. "Cleared my mental space."

Max huffs another laugh. His chest aches, empty. He wonders does Daniel know how hollowed out he is without him.

"Go on."

"Well, I deleted a shit ton of apps. That wellness app you made me download last year? Sorry Maxy, but that went," Daniel makes a popping noise. "And the fertility tracking app Scotty downloaded at his bachelor's party."

"Presumably he just got his and your phones mixed up, right?"

"No Maxy, it was a prank because I -" Daniel breaks away, finally understanding, laughing as if Max has made the funniest joke possible.

"Okay so you cleared up some space on your phone," Max prompts him.

"Oh yes, and then deleted twitter and went to WhatsApp and left about a billion groups and then I went to Instagram, and went through who I followed, and unfollowed tons of people."

"Oh? Did I make the cut?"

Daniel tutts as if Max is being purposefully dense.

"Naturally Maxy. In fact, I sort of debated unfollowing everyone except you, but then figured you might've been pissed at me."

Max can't tell if Daniel is joking or not. He doesn't know which he wants it to be.

"So firstly I unfollowed a bunch of people I had met years ago at business deals and stuff, and then Craig and Rebecca from school because I never really liked them anyway and they definitely never liked me and then Zak because the vibes were Not It and then my high-school teacher who I definitely only ended up following on a dare and -"

"Zak," Max says, picking out the familiar name in the sea of chatter. "As in Zak Brown?"

Daniel hums. "Yeah, the vibes were Not It. And then I also unfollowed Fernando -"

"Alonso?" Max splutters out another laugh of disbelief. "What on earth did he do to you?"

"I don't like how he acts around you."

"Me?!" Max voice goes up an octave. "What? But he's always nice to me Daniel. I like him."

"I know Max, that's the point," Daniel says, and before Max can even begin to comprehend what he means, he's continuing. "And then also Richard, from McLaren because I swear he used to tell Zak everything I did and then Michael, and then Sam, this old hookup, and -"

"Michael," Max cuts in, sure he's mistaken, "as in ..."

"Yeah," Daniel says after a beat. "That Michael."

Max swallows. Michael has been a constant strain on their relationship, the fly in the otherwise smooth ointment. Max had told Daniel he wasn't good for him, he wasn't looking after him. That friendship and business rarely mixed, and that in this case, it had congealed into something of neither, a strange, interdependent relationship which drained them both.

Daniel had said Max hadn't understood it, hadn't gotten how much Michael helped him, how good it was to have a physico who was also his mate. Max replied by saying that as far as he was concerned, Michael was proving himself to be neither.

Jealousy. That was what Daniel had pinned to him, had washed all rationality away with. Max was jealous.

He remembers feeling like he had been slapped. Jealousy. Fucking jealousy.

He never mentioned Michael again.

"But," Max begins slowly, mind whirling. "You had lunch with him last week." Even though you never mentioned it, even though I had to find out through fans' blurry photos.

"Yeah," Daniel draws the syllable out. "But... the vibes were not immaculate."

"Right," Max says, hating how terse the single word sounds. And the vibes were fine when he encouraged you to do that fucked up intermittent fasting? When he recommended yoga and gym sessions instead of therapy?

"And then I unfollowed Nicky Latifi, because unfortunately, he's going to do a masters in London, and following him online will simply remind me of all the missed possibilities I had in the academic world," he goes on.

"Daniel," Max says, trying to force his mind to move on, Daniel has unfollowed Michael Daniel has unfollowed Michael. "You dropped out of school when you were seventeen. In the most loving of ways, I would hardly call you an up and coming scholar."

"Details, Maxy," he says, but then goes quiet, and so does Max. He opens his eyes. His room is painted in shadows, sunrise still distant. The trophies he won as a child are carefully displayed in neat rows, their plaques opaque with dust, now thick and heavy. He remembers winning them, young and already starving for more, remembers the weight of plastic, the way sugary pop soda dried sticky on his skin.

"I think you were right," Daniel says softly. Max nods, face pressed against his pillow.

"I mean about him. Michael."

"I know who you meant," Max murmurs.

"Okay good, because you're definitely not write about my academic prowess, I was one hundred percent on track to be this world's Stephen Hawkens."

Max laughs softly. "It's Hawking not Hawken."

"Once again Maxy, details."

There's another exhale of quiet between them, and outside Max hears the world beginning to rise. Birds waking, their whistles winding their way through the crack in his window.

"I miss you," he says softly, as if the words are barely permitted to be spoken aloud.

"I love you too Maxy," Daniel replies with ease. Then - "you should come. I think it would be nice. If you were here too."

"I think so too," Max says. The longing grows. The trophies are dusty on his shelf, forgotten. His feet hang off his childhood bed. Birds begin to sing.

"So will you?" Daniel persists. Max squeezes his eyes shut.

"I don't know. I do not think you would be saying this if you weren't off your head on pain meds," he tries to joke. His chest aches. Hollowed out, always wanting more than he's allowed.

"Of course I would," Daniel says confidently, even though he ends it with a yawn. "I anyways want you around."

Max keeps his eyes still tightly shut. He tucks his knees up, bringing them to his chest. When he was very young and his parents were still together, he'd do this. Curl up on the bed with his eyes squeezed closed. The door shut, their shouts muffled; as distant as the bird song is to him now.

"Maxy?"

His sister said the same. Maxy? Climbing on his bed, tugging at his arms. What are they talking about? Nothing, nothing, it doesn't matter.

"How's your wrist?" Max asks. He opens his eyes - the room has grown lighter, dawn finally creeping in.

"Good," Daniel says, already forgotten what he said. Like a butterfly, moving onto the next topic, nothing permanent. "Sore. I'm on some strong shit though." He laughs. It sounds so near.

Max imagines it. He could do it. Book the ticket to Spain. It wouldn't even be that bad. People know him and Daniel are mates, and mates visit each other in hospital. And that's if it even comes out, which it might not. Nobody has to know.

"I love you," he blurts out, cheeks warm. Daniel laughs again, soft and delighted.

"Good, because my right hand is currently out of action, so I might need help over the next few weeks with a few particular things."

Max laughs, cheeks warm. He's not being quiet any more. His family can probably hear him through the walls, just like he could hear his parents all those years ago.

He can imagine his sister asking him, echoing their childhood as she questions him on words she's grasped through walls. This time, though, he thinks he will tell her the truth.

"I've heard Spain is very beautiful at the end of August," he says.

Daniel hums, "I've heard something similar, Maxy."

Outside, birds sing. The dawn continues on, filling the emptiness of night.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

i know too fucking much about qsmp badboyhalo.

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

(can be read as a standalone)

STEVE LOOKS AT HIS BIG EMPTY HOUSE AND THINKS FUCK IT

(ft. a heartbreaking realization followed bi gay panic and way more Eddie than initially intended. Also: Steve becomes a dad)

cw: drinking, mention of drugs, mentions of homophobia, Steve going through it once again

cool and correct steve playlist

Bullshit.

Steve is good at being alone.

He is even better at pretending that he isn't lonely. That being lonely and being alone is the same thing. Because not being alone is easy. He can do something against that. Throw a party. Fill his house with people until he can barely take a step without stumbling into someone. Say stupid shit in class so that everyone has no choice but to be aware of him. Study with Nancy even if the material refuses to get into his head no matter how often he reads over it and he just feels so fucking stupid. Drive the kids around even if their screaming gives him a headache (his mother said that headaches have always been in the family anyways).

Your love is bullshit.

In fact, he got so good at this over the years, that he almost started to believe it himself.

And isn't it funny how, as soon as he can't run away from the truth anymore, cannot deny that he is so fucking lonely that it hurts and that he has never not been, that he tries again and again but it never works and the problem must be with him, right? Even Nancy has Jonathan, and all Steve has is bullshit - as soon as he admits to himself that he is fucking lonely, he wants to be alone.

It isn't fair, because parties were always his escape. Music that is loud enough to drown out his pathetic heartbeat, longing and screaming for another one with every pump. Enough alcohol for him to lose count of how many days, weeks, months it has been since he last saw his parents. Enough bodies rubbing against one another that it starts to get hard to tell where one ends and the next begins.

And it is in a party that Nancy Wheeler breaks his heart. She takes that pathetic trembling little thing, with so much to give but nowhere, no one to give it to. She takes this wretched beating monstrosity and smashes it in her fists. Digs her nails into it and squeezes until he can't breathe. Grabs each end and opens it, rips it apart until he can't hide or run away anymore.

The music is so loud he can pretend that he didn't understand her for a few seconds longer. She drinks enough for her eloquence to leave her, for her to see straight into the heart of the whole shit show and to summaries everything in the most concise and yet fitting way possible. The alcohol finally gives her the courage to say what has been coming for months. You are bullshit, she says. You are alone, he hears. And the bodies that have been his refuge for so many years turn into obstacles getting in the way of fresh air.

As if fresh air can magically turn him into a decent person. (into someone who deserves love)

And suddenly he realizes how futile that all was. How stupid he is. Inviting people he barely spoke three words to into his empty house. Screaming into the void in a crowd of people until he can't differentiate his voice from the others anymore. He invited everyone so they could admire this character he wore like an ill-fitting mask - and then what? Did he want to be applauded for it? Congratulations, you force yourself to be what everyone around you wants, and YOU'RE STILL FUCKING ALONE.

He finally manages to go outside and he doesn't know what the fuck he is supposed to do now. There are still people everywhere. The air is still heavy with weed and smoke and vomit. His head aches to the beat of the music, although it might also be because of the tears he is trying not to let fall.

So there he is. In a party full of people and yet alone in a way he has never allowed himself to be before.

He wants to leave, but the thought of being in that empty house just makes his anxiety grow. He wants to go back inside, but the thought of the whole school being witness to Steve "The King" Harrington's Fall from Grace part 2: electric Boogaloo makes his skin crawl. He needs to be gone. He can't be alone. He needs to think. He can't bear the thoughts tormenting him in his head.

He sees a relatively empty patch of grass and runs. The fence digs against his back but he can barely feel it. He has never been so fascinated by good old boring grass as he is now.

"Oh wow, someone kick your puppy or something? You look so pathetic, I might even give you a discount, your highne- fuck are you crying?!"

Steve looks up and can't hold in the sigh that escapes him (he pretends to himself that it doesn't sound as tremulous as it does, thinks he can allow himself this one concession in this already disastrous night).

"No", he lies.

Now it makes sense, why this patch is so empty. Nobody wants to be seen spending time with Eddie "The Freak" Munson. The only reason he is even here is the metal lunchbox he always carries around. Steve always had a sort of admiration for him - not that he could ever let anyone know that. Because Steve was - as Nancy so kindly put it - bullshit. He laughed as Tommy shoved kids against the lockers because that was what was expected of the popular jock. He threw parties because that was what teenagers are supposed to do when it is the weekend and your parents aren't home. Girls he didn't even know the name of asked him out and he accepted because he could feel the entire school staring at the back of his neck. And as soon as he stopped doing that - when Nancy finally gave him the courage to say no when he didn't want to - everyone left him. Including Nancy.

But Eddie? Eddie didn't care. Eddie didn't give a fuck that people called him a girl because of his long hair, he just let it grow and it looked fucking good. Eddie didn't give a fuck that Tommy called him a fairy because of his painted nails and jewelry, he just put up his middle finger, showing off the biggest fucking ring Steve has ever seen. Munson is unashamedly himself and every year a new group of freshmen nerds join his table of weirdos. They only leave when they graduate.

Now, with alcohol buzzing in his veins and his heart shattered into a thousand pieces, he can admit that he is kind of...jealous. Munson is brave in a way Steve has never managed. He jumps on tables and screams about conformity or shit and he doesn't give a fuck. Hell, he brings his lunchbox full of drugs to school like it's the most normal thing in the world. (Sometimes he wonders whether some teachers know and that is the reason he can't get through his senior year.)

"Would be more convincing if you weren't currently sobbing, pretty boy." Eddie's arm is extended towards him, almost as if he is going to touch him. But when Steve looks up he quickly brings it back to his side.

He feels his cheeks heat up. "...pretty boy?"

He looks fascinated as Eddie takes a lock of his hair and twirls it around his finger. The ring finger in his left hand, to be more precise, ironically the only one not adorned with a ring. He vaguely wonders if that is intentional. Eddie's fingers are long and slim. Piano fingers, his father would say. Didn't he play in a band or something? He continues watching entranced as Eddie lifts his finger and starts chewing on his hair. His lips are chapped. Paired with his big brown doe eyes, the effect is weirdly.... adorable.

"-heart?". It is only when those ridiculously red chapped lips move that Steve realized that Eddie is talking to him. His gaze seems to betray his confusion because the older boy sighs and presumably repeats himself. "I asked, are you doing okay?! Jesus H. Christ I'd think I was dreaming except that you aren't on your knees"

Steve doesn't think he was supposed to hear this second part and he frankly does not have energy to unpack that, so he makes the executive decision to ignore it. He has also already failed in his quest to not cry, and the only person he wants to talk to is the current reason for his distress, so he thinks, fuck it. (It's not like Munson really counts as a person anyway, a voice whispers in his head, but he ignores it. He does not want to be that person anymore)

"I think my girlfriend just broke up with me"

"You think?!"

"I am pretty sure my girlfriend just broke up with me"

"What?!"

"I said-"

"No, I understand. I just find it hard to believe. A lowly peasant captures the heart of the king- nay, the emperor- nay, the god of this hellish kingdom we call Hawkins High. And she, without mercy or remorse-"

"Don't call me that." Eddie freezes, his hands still raised from wildly gesticulating before. Steve absentmindedly notes that his rings glimmer orange from the bonfire.

"Don't call me king or, or emperor or whatever-"

"God."

"whatever, because that's not me. I- I don't want to be that person anymore. I know I was an asshole and- and I want to do better. So...yeah."

"Stevie, Stevie, Stevie" He tries to ignore the goosebumps, tries not to stare too hard at the mouth lovingly forming this single word. When was the last time someone called him a nickname? Even Nancy just called him by his name. Maybe that was one of the signs he overlooked. Maybe- (stop thinking about it stop thinking about it stop thinking about it) (lonely lonely lonely lonely)

He looks back at Eddie and sees that he isn't looking at him anymore (big doe eyes just like hers) He follows the older boy's gaze hoping something will distract him from spiralling. He doesn't know why he feels disappointed when the goal turns out to be Billy Hargrove: cigarette in his cherry red lips, some girl he isn't even looking at under his arm, icy eyes so intense they seem otherworldly.

"Oh yeah, I forgot that you were dethroned. Really not your year, is it?"

And Steve isn't sure what it is. Maybe Nancy's words are only now really sinking in. The fact that now he has neither girlfriend nor friends. Maybe it is the shame of realizing that Eddie actually isn't a bad guy, that he used to make his life hell for no fucking reason. And maybe a petty part of him is angry at how easily Billy filled the whole he left, how years of friendship apparently mean nothing to Tommy and Carol. Maybe he hates himself for missing them sometimes, even though he knows that they aren't the kind of people he wants to associate himself with. Or maybe it's just fucking infuriating how fucking big and warm Eddie Munson's fucking eyes look in the orange light. All he knows is that one second he is talking to Eddie "The Freak" Munson with blood roaring in his ears and the next he is sitting in his car. He grips the steering wheel so tightly his fingers turn white. One blink and he is parking on his driveway, another and the door is slamming shut behind him. (Dad will be mad, the ten year old in him cries, but he tells him to shut up, too)

And here he is now, sitting on his ridiculous white leather sofa staring at his grey concrete walls. (alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone)

When his father is home, he almost exclusively spends time in his study. The one Steve isn't supposed to go into. And yet he is also the one who meticulously planned the living room. The whole house, really. He saw pictures in a business magazine and ordered someone beneath him to get it done. Everything is color coordinated: grey and white and the occasional pop of brown. It doesn't look like people are supposed to live in it. It is lifeless and clinical and Steve feels like an intruder in his own home. But he doesn't dare change anything. Once his mom tried to place a red vase with purple flowers on the coffee table. The fight ended with her sleeping in a hotel for a month.

Steve can handle sleeping in a hotel. It isn't like it would be all too different from his current situation. If he had to finance it on his own it would be a different story, but his parents would never allow him to sleep in the streets. He can already hear his mother's shrill voice "what would that look like, Stephen?!"

What Steve can not handle is being the only living being inside these trist walls.

(alone alone alone alone)

The thought is so overwhelming that he breaks into his father's liquor cabinet. When he finally falls asleep, bottle still in hand, he dreams of flowers and trees and waterfalls and life.

--

The next day he takes an aspirin against the pounding in his brain and drives to the hardware store. (He will probably be too scared to actually go through with it if he has the ability to think clearly). He parks his Beemer (please don't get dirty with soil please don't get dirty with soil shit maybe he should've brought plastic plane or something to cover the leather seats) and waves hello to the poor guy manning the register (he thinks he remembers him laughing around Billy yesterday night. He slams the door extra hard behind him and can't help the schadenfreude when he sees him flinch. It hurts like a bitch but it's completely worth it) and goes straight to the plant section.

For a moment he just stands there. It feels kind of insane. Here he is, standing in front of a shelf filled to the brim with living beings. Beings that need oxygen and sun and nutrients and water just like him. And he can just buy them for like five dollars. What the heck. (Is he just going to be trafficking a bunch of little guys into his house?!?! he feels a weird mix of fear and excitement when he realizes that he will actually have to take care of everyone he decides to take home with him. He will be needed.)

He sees a plant with leaves so large that it is almost pushing it's neighbours out of the shelf and into the deadly hard floor below. It kind of reminds him of Mike, the way that little asshole is always trying to get him to leave Na- to leave his sister alone. (Do not think of Nancy do not think of Nancy) (Bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit) (alone alone alone alone)

The thought is so amusing he immediately adds the newly dubbed Mike Jr. into his cart. (For a moment he feels incredibly idiotic. What would the others think if they saw him?! Naming a plant he is only buying because he has no friends. But then he remembers that the entire reason for this little trip is that there isn't anyone to stop him, so he proudly glares at Mike Jr. in his cart like a disgruntled mother and continues on in his journey.) The next few minutes (hours? days? time is a social construct anyway) are spent trying to find the leafy reincarnation of the rest of the little party. Max gets a cactus with a beautiful pink flower blooming at the top. Dustin gets a succulent that falls on his foot like the fucking menace it is and is still somehow in one peace. Hard-headed just like it's namesake, Steve thinks and adds it to the cart. Picking the one hanging from the ceiling with the leaves majestically growing towards the ground because it reminds him of El's nosebleeds may be kind of morbid, but as long as Hopper never finds out it should be fine. Lucas gets the tall ones that almost look like a miniature palm tree. (He finds it kind of genius. Steve isn't sure what exactly it is about miniature trees that tickles his fancy, but Tall Lucas may be his favorite. Don't tell the others.) Human Lucas is the tallest of the bunch and is starting to show interest in basketball, which gets Steve weirdly emotional when he can't sleep at night. Will is the hardest. He is the quietest of the bunch and he doesn't drive him around as often as the others because his mother doesn't want to let him out of her sight. He settles for a bamboo in the end. It fascinates him to see it thriving even though it is so far away from home.

When he is preparing himself to leave, his eyes catch a bright yellow flower. (Rings glimmering in the orange light). He doesn't think too hard about it when Eddie Senior finds it's way into his cart.

On the way home he stops by the library. He doesn't think he has ever been here unless Nancy forced him. He's surprised at the amount of people that are actually here. He picks out as many books about botanics as he can take home at once (he may not be a fan of reading, but he will bear it for the sake of his new roommates). Back in the house he places all his kids on the coffee table (ha, suck it dad!), makes himself the biggest cup of coffee with a frankly concerning amount of espresso shots, and sleeps for the rest of the day.

When he wakes up the sun has already set. (nobody noticed he had been gone all day). He looks at the books, looks at the plants, and makes the executive decision not to go to school on Monday. Only to be able to take better care of his new charges, of course, no other reason. (He can already hear the whispers. "Oh how the mighty have fallen" "did you see that his girlfriend dumped him?" "look how pathetic, all alone" "dethroned")

He expects to need to force himself through each page. He expects to return the books without opening even half of them. He expects to just give up and abandon his babies in a park or something, it's not like they can be home when his father returns anyway.

What he does not expect is to be wakened out of his trance-like state by his own growling stomach. The first thing he is aware of is that the sun is already high up in the sky. The second is that he really really needs to pee. And eat. And drink. And find the exact right spot with the perfect amount of sunlight for each plant. And make a plan of when he has to water each one. And make sure that the vases are all big enough for the plants to properly thrive. And go buy the correct soil.

Maybe he would feel a bit bad if Nancy was still up his ass about school and attendance and punctuality and all this shit (don't think about her don't think about her don't think about her) but as things are he runs to the bathroom, whips up a quick Spaghetti al Sugo and runs back to the hardware store.

He tries to remember everything he learned. Apparently Will The Strong is actually a bamboo-type that is native to North America (the so-called arundinaria appalachiana) but that is fine, too. He should probably get bigger vases for all the plants now that he is thinking about it, even if they don't necessarily need it they deserve to have a bit more space. Would it be overkill to get a sun lamp?? Steve makes to horrifying realization that the store in Hawkins does not have Cactus or Succulent soil on sale (seriously, this is so ridiculous. How can you sell cacti with a straight face and not have any soil for it in the shop?!) He goes back to his car and goes to the next town over. (He goes a bit over the speed limit but nobody catches him so it is fine. The thought of leaving his beloved plants alone for too long make him feel kind of bad for some reason.)

It is there that the shopkeeper shows him the marvelous world of Bonsai. They are like Tall Lucas, but better. Because they are real trees, like the big ones, but in small. They can even grow real fruit. And the fruit keeps it's original size, even if the tree is tiny. Steve sees a mini apple tree and it is fucking love at first sight. He leaves the store with five new roommates (he has to find them a name on the drive home), more vases than he actually needs (they just looked so pretty, it would be cruel to make him choose), a watering can he doesn't actually need (he will have to look this object in the eyes every fucking day he deserves to actually choose it okay), more types of soil than he thought existed and two books about Bonsai.

(he finds it fascinating for some reason. Taking something as tall and strong and imposing as a tree and taking it into your home. Having something so fragile be dependent on your own two hands. Bonsais are not easy, the clerk had said. You need to be careful, gentle, loving. Cut their leaves every day. It shows when you don't take proper care of them, even if it is just a single day.)

--

He knows this is a fight he cannot win, but as soon as Hargrove dares to put his hands on Lucas any rational thought leaves him. The last thing he sees is a fist coming towards his face. The last thing he hears is a plate breaking somewhere above. Then everything is dark.

When he comes to he is in a car. He needs a second to recognize the car as his own. He needs another to realize that nobody else in the car should actually be driving. He wishes he didn't have that second realization, he has enough of a headache as it is. The only thing worse than finding out that a twelve year old is driving his beloved BMW is knowing where exactly she is driving them to.

When he sees the monster coming, he knows he can't let it get to the kids. He is the oldest. (He is alone). He will make sure that those fucking dipshits make it back home if it is the last thing he does.

When he knows that he is not going to make it out of this one alive, when he feels it in the depth of his bones that it is either him or the kids and truly, is that even choice to begin with?, he thinks of his plants. He feels bad for Rose Nylund and Dorothy Zbornak. His miniature trees were coming along so well....

--

Apparently it is not abnormal to lose ones brain-mouth filter for a bit when one has a concussion. Or ones ability to think clearly.

After everything is done for the second (and hopefully last) time. Hopper says they should have another Congratulations We Survived This Shit Again-dinner, and Joyce looks so devastated Steve doesn't have the heart to say no even though his head still isn't 100% back to normal (the doctors said that maybe it never will, but he tries not to think about that.)

This one is somehow worse than the first. The first thing Hopper does is loudly complain about the lack of Lasagna on the table. Steve sits as far away from Nancy as possible and tries not to look at her. (Tries not to look at her and Jonathan's intertwined hands). She tries to speak with him, but he somehow manages to avoid her. Hopper tries to force the Byers into conversation, but they just stare into their plates with a faraway look.

Unsurprisingly it is Mike who starts it, the little shit could never pass up the chance to make fun of him. He screams about how Steve kept talking about leaves and trees and plants and about watering "his kids", and Steve doesn't say anything because Mike's voice sounds so tiny and desperate in the silence and it hurts him in his very soul. Dustin adds that he sometimes spoke in another language, and he thinks the looks of horror on their faces are a bit exaggerated when he reveals that he is half-italian from his mother's side.

He ends up showing them his babies, and the kids somehow manage to weasel their names out of him. Max looks appropriately smug when she sees her badass cactus, and Dustin is insulted when he sees his Succulent. He does not look happier when Steve explains the origin story. (He changes the subject when Will quietly asks why the bright yellow flower is called Eddie)

--

He starts driving Max back home from school while Billy isn't allowed to drive. Nobody knows how the drugs got into his system. (He has his suspicions but sometimes it's just easier not to ask)

One day she enters the car with dirt underneath her nails and a bouquet of Petunia in her hands. "This is Non-Concussed Steve", she proclaims proudly. "It doesn't look like it, but it is actually very resilient". Just like you, she doesn't say, but he hears it anyway. He tries not to cry and fails spectacularly.

Unexpected talent #2: gardening

-> a comprehensive list of all of Steve's babies

[thisismeracing]

good morning I just woke up from a dream where I met lando norris and for some reason he was flirty, followed me from both a burner account and hi ls real account and kept messaging me (?)

[sinclairstarz]

i just think Nancy and Max would be an interesting dynamic to explore. Both are teenage girls plagued with the guilt of a lost loved one, and feeling like they killed said loved one, and that manifesting into a deep-rooted anger. Both come off to people as mean and harsh and have a hard time making and keeping friends. I don’t know exactly what this means or how their dynamic would be, but I think they are similar and should interact more, and also I think Nancy would like Max a lot if she got to know her.