#thank you for saying they come from interviews

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions

In which you interview 2 multi-world champions in one sitting.

Warnings: discussions of the traumatic 2021 Abu Dhabi race (lol) Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2k words

(quick note. shoutout to @shelbyteller for the inspiration for this one. Hope it lives up to your expectations bb!)

"I can't believe you got him to agree to this." You say, shuffling a few papers on your desk in the Monaco apartment you share with Max.

Max looks at you, brow raised. "Are you kidding me? I didn't have to do any convincing. That man loves you. Honestly, I should probably be a little jealous of how eagerly he agreed to come on the show."

You roll your eyes, knowing that Max is being ridiculous. "As if I'd ever look at anyone but you." You tease, rising from your desk chair before crossing the room to sit on Max's lap.

When you had moved in with Max earlier in the year, one of the things he had insisted on was turning one of the spare rooms in his (well, now it was yours too, he had insisted on putting you on the deed to the property after your engagement, much to the dismay of his lawyer) apartment into a dual recording studio and office for you.

Tucked away in one of the corners was a large mahogany desk that you spent most of your time at. On the other side of the room that's decorated in tones of gold and champagne pink sits your podcasting setup with 2 comfy sitting chairs, microphones, and side tables. It's the perfect cozy setup. You didn't use this room all the time for your guests, a lot of the time you were traveling to meet them. This room was used for when you did your 'bonus session' episodes and when you had more personal friends on the show, like today's guest.

Max wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you closer into his chest. "Have I ever told you that I love you?" He murmurs, breath tickling the shell of your ear.

You hum, small grin spreading across your face as you lean your head further into the crook of his neck. "Not in the last ten minutes."

"Well, let me remedy that terrible fact." Max's lips skate over your jaw before they find their home. "I love you beyond words, schatje." His words are mumbled against your lips but you understand them all the same.

When he slips his tongue into your mouth you can't help the sigh that leaves your body. It doesn't matter how many times Max kisses you because every time his lips land on yours, it feels like the first time.

The make out session continues for several moments before you're interrupted by a buzzing on Max's phone. "Looks like he's here. You ready?"

You glance down at your outfit, casual but put together for the interview that you're sure will make some waves in the F1 world. Not only because of who it is but also because of what you got him to agree to discuss today. "I hope so!"

Max leaves the office to retrieve your guest as you begin prep on the room. You had decided to just run the entire episode by yourself today, giving Steve and Shannon the day off from filming since it was in your home and you liked to keep this environment as relaxed and low key as possible.

Voices float towards you as you finish up the last bits of preparation. And then, they're standing in the doorway.

"I hear congratulations are in order!"

"Lewis!" You croon, setting down the papers in your hands before crossing the room to your friend's opened arms. "Thank you so much."

Lewis chuckles before holding you out at arms length, "Let me see that rock. I'm sure Instagram did it no justice."

You happily hold out your left hand for Lewis to take, grinning like an idiot over his shoulder at Max, who is leaning against the door frame with the same goofy grin on his face. The word 'proud' didn't seem to do what he felt for you in this moment justice.

"He did good, didn't he?"

"Ma'am, that man is so wildly in love with you." Lewis chuckles before looking over his shoulder at Max. "Good taste there, mate."

Max nods. "Thanks. Can I get you anything before you guys get started?"

Lewis shakes his head and just like that, you go into work mode. You give Lewis a brief explanation on how it's going to work, just like you did for Max over a year ago. Meanwhile, Max sits at your desk and watches you work. In the last year, he hasn't really had the opportunity to watch you film and record a show because he's always felt in the way but this time is different. He had been the one to ask Lewis onto the show and it had been Lewis that insisted he stay to watch the entire interview when he had tried to excuse himself moments before.

You were so in your element is left Max in awe. The way you moved around the room with such confidence, setting up the cameras and microphones, talking to Lewis like he was a brother or an old friend, you really commanded the room and made both of these drivers, who were used to wrestling flying torpedos around hairpin curves going fast enough to kill someone was just awe inspiring.

"Okay, but seriously, before we wrap this up we need to talk about one more thing." You giggle a bit, watching as Lewis reaches down to scratch Rosco on the head.

"Shit." Lewis hisses while Max laughs from his spot at your desk where he's been watching the entire interview quietly. "I thought you were going to forget about that."

You toss your head back, laughing maniacally. "And blow the chance at having two fan bases hate me? As if, Hamilton. Max, do you want to join us?"

Although you have the air of someone who couldn't care less about the upcoming topic, secretly, your stomach twists with anxiety. When Max had suggested the finale to your landmark interview with Lewis and when Lewis had agreed to is, you had been confident that you could handle such a touchy subject but now? Now that you were face with actually having to talk to your friend about it on camera to be released for the entire world to see? You were having second thoughts.

Max stands and sits next to you in the chair that you had pulled out moments before.

"And before we even get started, I want to preface this final segment by saying that you both agreed to this before hand and I am not blindsiding anyone, right?"

Both men grin at you where you sit between them and nod. "We both agreed to this." Lewis says.

"Well I, for one, feel a bit like a hostage here having to agree to this on camera." You reach across and smack Max on the shoulder, causing him to smile even wider. "Yes, of course. We both agreed to this."

"We're a few years removed from the 2021 season. Lewis, looking back do you think there's anything you could have done differently to change the outcome?"

Lewis shrugs, "If you would have asked me that a year ago, I would have probably said yes but as we get further away from it I think we did everything we could have. Sometimes, there are decisions made and things happen that are outside of your control. As a racing driver, you want everything to be under your control and even when it's not, it's in our nature to take on everything as if it is under our control."

"Are you calling me a control freak?" Max quips from your other side.

"We're all control freaks, man." Lewis says with a chuckle.

"What's that saying? Hindsight is 20/20? Looking back, there are always things you see and go 'well that was a terrible decision." Max says, smiling over at his rival. "But at the time, we all made what we thought were the best decisions we could with the information we had in front of us. I don't think there was anything either of us could have done to have change the outcome based on what we knew then and there."

You nod, grinning at both of the men. "Can we talk about Abu Dhabi for a second? I don't want to talk about the race, that's been done to death. But, can you walk me through what was going through your head in the days after?"

"I isolated big time." Lewis says, looking down at his hands before reaching to scratch Rosco's head. "I took off and spent time alone and just did a lot of thinking. I hated that my championship came down to the decisions of one man. Had we been better and more consistent the entire year, it wouldn't have come down to the last lap. That was on me and no one else. I had to take that on and figure out how I was going to face the team after letting them down."

"But you didn't let them down." Max insists. "That entire season was a masterclass in never giving up and making something out of nothing. I mean, sure I was the beneficiary of that final call from Race Control but it could have easily went the other way. I don't know what I would have done had I been in your shoes after that race."

"You would have been fine." Lewis says. "You've always been better at compartmentalizing things on the track. I take a lot of my work home with me. It's why I struggle to let people in. I'm often caught up in my own world focusing on what I need to do to perform better and improve, racing takes up my whole life and I'm content with that. You're a different breed. You don't take work home with you and that's how you were able to land this gorgeous girl."

"Hey, lay off the flirting with my fiance." Max snaps good naturdly, reaching for your hand and giving Lewis a wink. "Your singular focus is how you've won so many championships though and no one can fault you for that."

The rest of the interview continues for a few more minutes before you begin to wrap things up. It's been almost two hours at that point and the last 30 minutes of the interview is just Max and Lewis talking racing, Max threatening to retire, and Lewis threatening to pull an Alonso and never retire.

When the episode it released, it is a complete surprise and incredibly well received by everyone inside and outside the F1 community, which was somewhat surprising to you as you know what a hot button issue the 2021 season was and how polarizing discussing that very last race could be. In the end, it's one of your more favorite episodes and it opens up the doors to many more sports interviews, including a partnership with F1 TV for some mid-season post-race work that has you doing even more of what you love: getting to know the people beneath the sheen and shine of their own celebrity.

TheYappingHour Posted:

928,991 likes liked by charlesleclerc, ferrari, roscolovescoco, and others theyappinghour newest episode drops today featuring this handsome boy and his dad! ;) make sure you listen to the entire hour...there may be a surprise guest at the end! lewishamilton pleasure being on with you. and once again, congrats on the engagement! max is a lucky man! >>>theyappinghour oh lewis! you're the best. thank you <3 user028 i cannot get over how good she is at making people feel comfortable talking to her about hard things. i've NEVER heard lewis open up about 2021 like that before. >>>user9281 seriously. she is a magician. user0911 the cameo at the end! the yapping about the engagement! lewis sounding so genuinely happy for them! this may just be one of my favorite episodes ever.

tags: @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99

[poguelandiarafe]

red carpet reveal | drew starkey

pairing - drew starkey x gf!reader

warnings - none

summary - drew brings you to the outer banks season four premiere even though you're relationship is still under wraps. well, until it isn't thanks to a pushy reporter.

--------

the 'outer banks' premiere is in full swing and you're so grateful you get to experience it with drew for the first time. you're buzzing with excitement, the flashing of cameras and excited fans screaming as the cast makes their way onto the red carpet feels surreal.

"you doing okay?" drew asks, gently squeezing your hand.

you nod, looking up at him with a smile, "more than. go shine you superstar."

he chuckles and his hand gives you another comforting squeeze before letting it go and opting to rest it on your back. the way he looks in that suit, flashing his signature smile to the cameras, makes you wonder how the hell you even let him out of the hotel room.

as drew is ushered into many different interviews, you keep to yourself, staying mostly in the background and out of shot. you don't mind this, always having preferred to watch him in his element. he talks with so much passion and excitement that you could, and do, listen to him for hours on end.

the night seems to be going perfectly until it's not. the problem? a leggy blonde who's seemed to make it her life's mission to interview your boyfriend. you claim to not be the jealous type, but you can already tell the type of questions she's going to ask by the way she stalks over to him, eyes not so subtly looking him up and down with an exaggerated smile on her face.

"so, drew," she begins, her voice already annoying you, "you're looking very handsome tonight. outer banks season four! what's it like to still be playing the hottest character on the show? you are literally the internet's boyfriend right now."

he's here with you, don't let it get to you are the words that keep repeating in your head as drew politely answers the question, but you know she's attempting to flirt with him.

"what does your family think of the show? i'm assuming they're very proud," her eyes briefly flicker over to you and she turns her attention to you, "you must be such a proud sister, right?"

you scoff, not only at the question but at the condescending way she's talking to you, like you're a child.

"uh... she's not my sister actually." drew chuckles awkwardly, his free hand coming up to scratch at his neck.

her eyebrows raise in surprise before her shrill voice cuts through the air, "oh sorry! well, it's so thoughtful of you to bring your friend to the event."

yes, you've both agreed to not directly make your relationship public, but god did you want to set the record straight. the way her hand kept grabbing his arm throughout the whole interview is making your blood boil.

before you can say anything, the interview continues and she pays you no more attention. drew's patience for this is wearing thin, but he's determined to remain professional, not wanting to go viral for lashing out at someone for doing their job.

"coming back to my earlier point about being the internet's boyfriend, how's the love life? tell us, do you have your own sofia yet or are you still available?" the interviewer asks, playful flirtation coating the words as they leave her lips.

drew's arm unloops from yours and slides around your waist to pull you slightly closer to him. he's not trying to out your relationship, just reminding you he's there.

his eyes narrow slightly in annoyance at the question, "i... uh, well it's my personal life. wanna keep it personal."

"come on, not even an inkling of an answer?" she insists.

you've had enough of this woman and, quite frankly, drew has to. he's ready to walk off but you don't let him, instead moving to face him with your back to her.

"what are you doing?" drew leans down, whispering in your ear.

before you let yourself overthink what you're doing, you grab the back of his head and pull him into a kiss. everyone around you is in shock. cameras are all turning toward the two of you, and the fans are screaming even louder now. the kiss isn't a subtle peck or quick goodbye kiss. no, it's a kiss that is telling the world he's yours and no amount of bad flirting will take him away from you.

when you pull back, your cheeks are flushed and drew has a stunned smile on his face. your eyes suddenly widen as the realisation hits you like a train of what you just did, and he can tell that a million thoughts are going through your head.

"hey, stop overthinking it. i'm glad you did it," he starts before whispering, "meant she finally shut up and stopped trying to flirt with me."

relief washes over you and your tense shoulders drop as you let yourself relax. you don't even want to think about the social media reaction right now.

"umm," the interviewer clears her throat, "i guess that answers the question."

you grab drew's hand before looking back at the woman, "i think we're done here."

[heartmix]

M4X - MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x teammate!reader

Word Count: 400+

Warning: nothing, just short 'n sweet!

A/N: Max 4 time back to back Champion Verstappen! Had not clue what to name this but I really like it :)

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

The cheering from everyone and the bright lights that lit up the Las Vegas sky were the last thing on your mind. Max did it. He won the championship for the fourth year in a row. M4X. Even if the year or race didn't go your way you couldn't help but smile at your teammate's success. He deserved it all. There's no amount of fireworks or champagne that could be enough to celebrate this milestone. 

"YOU DID IT!" Your voice was loud and clear to Max amid all the cheering and people trying to congratulate him. 

Seeing your face somehow made his smile bigger as he pulled you into a death grip. "I couldn't do it without you!" 

"You did this all on your own. I'm proud of you." You whispered into his ear as both of you held onto each other for as long as you could before anyone pulled him away.

"Thank you for being the best teammate, I'm serious when I say I couldn't do it without you." Pulling back so he could see your face, he couldn't help the blush creeping up on his cheeks. Max wasn't one for pictures but he was hoping someone was capturing the moment between the both of you. 

"MAX! LET'S GO!" The voice of GP broke the both of you out of your trance as he was waiting by the car to take them to his post-race interview. 

"Go to your interview, I'll see you in a bit to drown you in champagne." You smiled as you began to pull away, but his hands locked into your waist preventing you from moving.

"Come with me." He begged. He didn't mean to sound desperate, but he wasn't ready to leave your side yet. This was the first year he had you as his teammate and he wanted to celebrate this win with you. 

"I don't think that's allowed." 

"I'm the champion, I can do whatever I want." Max's famous smirk made its way onto his face and you couldn't help but cave in. How could you say no to the champion?

"What if the FIA penalizes me?" Now it was your turn to smirk.

"I'll take the penalty for you, just come with me." 

"Lead the way champ." Both of you smiled as he dragged you over to the car. There was no way he was letting you go all night. He couldn't wait to drown you in champagne. 

[pickingupmymercedes]

Ageless wonder - Lewis Hamilton

warnings: mentions of alcohol, Toto being an ass (himself)

genre: fluff and teasy Lewis

wordcount: +1k

a/n: I had to, 'shelf life' my ass

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Waking up with a hangover wasn’t new to me, Lewis was the one non-alcoholic Tequila master in the relationship after all. But waking up feeling like my skull is auditioning for the lead role in Crash: The Musical, though? That’s special.

My tongue feels like I licked an old battery, my hair probably looks like I got electrocuted, and the sun streaming through the window is public enemy number one.

And still somewhere through the haze of pain, I catch a whiff of something heavenly: Lewis’s cologne.

Thank God. Home.

There’s a low chuckle near me, and the bed dips slightly. “Morning, superstar.”

I pry one eye open. Lewis is sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a grin that’s somewhere between amusement and concern, though he’s annoyingly chipper, like he hasn’t just watched me drag myself through hell disguised as a bottle of – real – tequila.

“Why are you so loud?” I croak, turning over to bury my face in the pillow.

“I’m not loud; you’re sensitive” he shoots back, that stupid chuckle rumbling again. “Rough night”

I flip him off without looking, which only makes him laugh harder. “Rough week actually.”

And it has been rough.

Toto, king of ominous sound bites, had suggested, in the newly launched Mercedes book, that Lewis might’ve been near his “shelf life.”

As if Lewis wasn’t out there fighting the excuse of a car they couldn’t understand how to work around, pulling phenomenal races from P10, setting twelve fastest laps, lapping four-tenths faster than his own teammate at some points.

And if there’d been more laps? Well, Toto might’ve had to eat his words on a very public stage.

I’d been at the race, of course. Watching from the garage, headphones clamped tight over my ears, my hands clasped together until they ached. I’d barely breathed until he crossed the line in P2, the garage erupting around me.

The relief was immediate, but it didn’t last.

I caught the frustration in his shoulders as he climbed out of the car, the way it clung to him during the cooldown drive to the podium interview and those mandatory interviews.

He’d wanted more.

He hadn’t said anything directly to me, of course—he never does when the sting is fresh. But I know the weight when I see it.

It’s in the way he’s still tense even as he waves to the fans, in the measured, overly polite answers he gives in interviews.

Watching him absorb the quiet digs, I wanted to storm the press room and defend him, consequences be damned. But what good would it do? Still, the knot in my chest wouldn’t loosen until I saw him smile again.

And then Toto had gone and made it worse. Of course. Lewis’s teammate was “from another planet,” while Lewis was just working with a “super strong car.”

I’d had to sit there and smile politely, even though every part of me wanted to grab Toto by the collar and shake him.

It wasn’t my fight, though—not really. It was Lewis’s. And Lewis, being Lewis, handled it like a pro. Calm. Measured.

Acknowledging his own faults while subtly calling out the micro-aggressions of all sorts he’s dealt with his whole career.

That’s my man. Too classy for this world.

But let’s be real: the post-race party in Vegas? That was for me. Not that I’d ever admit outside of our bedroom, but seeing him relaxed, smiling, surrounded by people who adore him? That was the real victory.

And the price for that? Me, nursing the world’s worst hangover and Lewis, laughing at my expense. Classic.

His voice broke through my thoughts. “You really went for it last night. Celebrating like you won something.”

“I did win something,” I mumble into the pillow.

“Oh yeah?” His tone is teasing, and I can feel his grin without even looking.

I finally roll onto my back, squinting at him like he’s the sun itself. “Bragging rights,” I said. “Because you…” I pointed vaguely in his direction, “…are a goddamn force of nature. And because everyone who said otherwise is a dumbass.”

He shakes his head, amused, but there’s a softness in his eyes now.

“And,” I add, smirking despite the pounding in my head, “I won tequila shots with Miles. That’s also worth celebrating.”

“Clearly.” He gestures vaguely at my disheveled state, and I kick at him weakly with one foot.

He dodges easily, then leans back, holding his phone up with a sly smile.

“Pot, meet kettle,” I muttered, rolling onto my stomach and burying my face in the pillow. Except that pillow smelled like him, which was entirely too distracting.

“What’s got you so chirpy this morning anyway?” I mumbled into the pillowcase, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

He had an uncanny ability to bounce back after days like these, his body apparently immune to exhaustion. I would’ve hated him for it if I didn’t love him so much.

“Just enjoying the comments on your last post,” he said nonchalantly.

That got my attention. I lifted my head to look at him. “What post?”

Lewis didn’t answer. Instead, he smirked and held up his phone, just out of my reach.

“Oh, come on,” I groaned, dragging myself upright. My head protested the movement, but curiosity outweighed the pain. “What did I do?”

“You don’t remember?” His grin widened. “It’s good. Really good.”

“Lewis.” I reached for his phone, but he leaned back, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“I think it’s fair to say the caption was… pointed,” he said, drawing the word out.

“Pointed at what?” My patience was wearing thin, and my curiosity was spiraling into mild panic.

He finally handed me the phone, and the moment I saw the screen, the haze of my hangover lifted just enough to make room for a new emotion: horror.

The photo was innocent enough—just me and Lewis at some ridiculous Vegas afterparty, his arm slung around my shoulders, both of us grinning like idiots. But the caption. Oh, the caption.

“All in on ageless wonder”

And my jaw drops. “Oh my God.”

Lewis is laughing now, low and warm and entirely too entertained. “You went all in, babe.”

I scroll through the comments, and my stomach flips. Hundreds of thousands of likes. Thousands of comments. Most are supportive—#GoatHamilton is trending, apparently—but a few are... less so.

I can’t help it but laugh. “Drunk me is bold.”

“Drunk you is sincere” he corrects, taking the phone back and locking the screen.

“Toto kinda deserves it.” I sit up, wincing as the motion sends my head spinning. “How long can I leave it up before PR calls me personally to tell me I’m banned from every Mercedes garage on Earth?”

Lewis checked his watch like he was genuinely considering it. “I’d say we’ve got a couple hours before the panic sets in. Maybe three if I keep ignoring my phone.”

I grin at him. “Reckless. I like it.”

He grins back, and for a moment, it’s just us. No hangovers, no drama, no shelf-life bullshit. Just Lewis and me, in sync as always.

He kissed me then, and for a moment, the lingering fog of tequila and regret melted away. All that mattered was him—his warmth, his steadiness, his love that he didn’t have to put into words because it was always there, in everything he did.

Lewis always had a way of grounding me, of silencing the noise in my head with something as simple as a kiss. It wasn’t just the feel of his lips—it was the way his hands cupped my face, anchoring me to him, the unspoken reassurance in the way he held me.

He didn’t need words to remind me that we were a team, that no matter how loud the world got, we’d always have this.

And I knew—I’d burn through a thousand hangovers just to feel this peace

“How much trouble are you when Toto sees that post?” I ask after a few moments of us studying each other.

He smirks. “Don’t worry.”

“Remind me to confiscate my phone next time I drink.” I lean back against the headboard, closing my eyes again.

“Not a chance,” he says, and there’s so much affection in his voice it makes my chest ache.

I peek at him through one eye. “You like chaos too much.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs, still grinning. “Or maybe I just like you.”

Damn him.

I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling now, the pain in my head fading to the background. Lewis has that effect on me. He always has.

And as much as I want to give him hell for waking me up, for teasing me, for letting me post that caption in the first place, I can���t bring myself to care.

Because at the end of the day, Lewis is Lewis. And he doesn’t need anyone to tell him who he is.

Although I’ll keep on shouting it from the rooftops if I have to.

Shelf life, my ass.

_____________________________________________________________

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If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[odessa-2]

Notable Titbits from the ever revealing Josh interview 💫

Caitriona gifted us with the doozy "Our Nanny" comment, but there was so much more gold to be unearthed. The interview was admittedly a bit of a jaw dropper.

One understated and easily missed nugget was the part where they were all discussing Richard's hidden talents. Cait chimed in and was being complementary about his skills and says "on the surface, you think there's not much going on, but then you dig down and you're like, Jesus." If you watch Sam's reaction carefully, you'll detect a hint of jealousy in his demeanour.

A particular favourite moment of mine was the Never have I Ever had a scene partner with bad breath moment. Whilst Ric and Sophie blathered on, Sam and Cait were locked in a fixated gaze for some time, communicating visually until Cait broke the ice and whispered, "Not you hun." She then proceeded to mutter something under her breath that she didn't want anyone to hear (very secretive behaviour for costars) while Sam continued to stare at her almost in a paralysed fashion. Eventually, Sam snapped out of his paralysis "we've come to terms with each other" is what he was able to muster while he unconsciously and instinctively touched hands with Cait

All that thinking time and all Caitriona could say was that "You have good personal hygiene." Wtf 😂. But best of all was when Sam thought it would be a good idea to pull out of a bag, mini toothpaste, gum and mouthwash...."I've got to make sure I have good dental hygiene." Why would that be necessary, Sam,when you are no longer filming OL scenes? Oops, fucked up again 🤪. Please do yourselves a favour and go back and watch Cait uncomfortably shift in her seat.

But my absolute pick of the bunch was when Josh handed out the mean comments cards for them all to read and Freudiantly told them, " You're going to say them to your friends and family here." Yes, FAMILY! Oh boy, what a juicy slip of the tongue that was. Friends would have been sufficient, but the "and family" clearly pertained to the two family members in the cast. Thank you, captain Josh for putting that nail in the coffin 🙌🙌.

And then there was the body language that spoke for itself. I have nothing else to add your honour.

[gotta-winwin]

(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> speed isn't all that matters

word count: 1.6k TW: slightlycold!wonwoo, tiny sliver of angst (we're getting there!), overworking, passing out, FLUFF, comfort italics are interview moments cut between other scenes a/n: second htr! we're starting that landslide into the angst (ദ്ദി ˙ᗜ˙ ) they are so cute in this omgomgomg

Wonwoo sat awkwardly on the pedestal, doing his best to balance while still posing for the camera.

"We had a lot of photoshoots and interviews while touring in Japan." Wonwoo explained to the camera. "Feels like we were posing for photos everywhere."

Wonwoo stood up once the photographer had finished his series of shots. He was tired and couldn't wait to get back to the hotel.

"Wait a moment, Wonwoo." Their manager called out to stop him. "They want a couple shots of you and Cyana."

Wonwoo sighed, nodding as he reluctantly returned to his seat. Cyana walked over, bowing politely to the staff. She stood awkwardly next to Wonwoo, a clear gap between them as she waited for instructions.

"Cyana-yah, can you stand behind Wonwoo?" Their translator smiled kindly as she directed the girl. "Wrap your arms around his shoulders, yes- that's good."

Wonwoo glanced up at the girl, looking away when their eyes met. He couldn't help but stiffen up as they both turned towards the camera. "I thought you went home with the others." He mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, smiling as the photographer clicked away. Most of the members had already finished their photoshoots and gone home.

Cyana's lips quirked down into a suppressed frown. "I stayed back. The car could only take four of us and Seungkwan looked dead on his feet."

"Look this way!" The photographer yelled, cutting off whatever had been Wonwoo's reply.

"Schedules forced Wonwoo to actually talk to me." Cyana couldn't help but grin despite the topic. "It was fun, I guess."

"I've always been a very introverted person." Wonwoo said to the camera, wringing his hands nervously. "I enjoy having time to myself."

Cyana smiled when the interviewer finished talking. "Yeah.. Wonwoo's always been a bit of an enigma to me. Like a mystery I just can't figure out."

Cyana's sitting with Dino in their hotel room, busy eating the lunch they had grabbed from the staff room. They're both mid-bite when the door opens.

"Nana~" Seungkwan walked in, fixing his hat. He was dressed and ready to go out. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Spotting the camera, he waves. "Oh- Hi~ We're going to Super Junior's concert."

Cyana shook her head, still chewing. "It's okay." She managed to say once swallowing. "I think I'm going to stay in today."

Seungkwan nodded, ruffling both her and Dino's hair before leaving. Neither maknae gave any indication they had even noticed the action, continuing to enjoy their meal.

"I'm gonna go to the sauna with Vernon later." Dino told Cyana through muffled chewing. "Do you want to come?"

Cyana made a face. "To the sauna?" She mimed gagging. "No thanks, Chan."

Dino made a face back. "I keep forgetting there are things you can't do that other members can." He smiled when she frowned. "I guess going to the sauna would be a little weird."

"I guess??" Cyana questioned, amazed at his lack of modesty. "A little??"

Dino shrugged. "You're a bro, bro."

"Where on earth did you learn that-" Cyana asked, though she already knew the answer. Vernon. Duh.

Jun and Cyana lazed in bed, Cyana watching Jun's phone from next to him. The girl was half-asleep, eyelids drooping and head lulling against the wall.

Wonwoo walked in, fresh from a shower, double taking when he saw Cyana. Gears turning in his head, he reluctantly slid into his own bed, throwing his blanket over himself.

"What did you do today, Wonwoo?" Jun asked, eyes still focused on the phone. He looked over at Wonwoo before checking on Cyana, smiling to himself when he saw her tired expression.

"I played tennis." Wonwoo answered. "Worked out, went swimming, then ate with the others- what did you guys eat?" He subconsciously said guys, including Cyana into the question. She perked up from Jun's side, suddenly awake.

"I ate with Donghae and Eunhyuk hyung after their concert." Jun replied, nudging Cyana. "What about you?"

"I ate with Dino."

Both boys frowned. "I thought that was your lunch." Jun said, both confused and worried. "You didn't have anything for dinner?"

Cyana paused. "I had some snacks. Not that hungry, since I didn't do much today." She shrugged. "I ate a lot for lunch anyways." Redirecting the topic, she turned to Jun. "Was the concert fun?"

Jun nodded. "It was so much fun." Sitting up straighter, he placed down his phone, fully engaged now. "They speak Japanese so well."

Wonwoo hummed. "We should learn to do that."

"Jeonghan and Hoshi are both great." Cyana sighed. "I think if I have one more language in my head I might combust."

Her quip brought both boys to laughter. "It's okay." Wonwoo said quietly, once the laughter died down. "You can just speak a lot for our North American tours."

"I always had a kind of weak presence, and I never fit in well as a kid." Wonwoo told the camera. "But with Seventeen I didn't get that feeling. They made me feel welcomed, always made me shine without needing to." He paused for a moment, thinking. "They're very important to me- because of that."

"Mingyu once told me Wonwoo cared deeply about his place in the group - he said it might sound selfish but I don't think so." Cyana's eyes were a little sad as she looked at the interviewer. "Mingyu said Wonwoo only has Seventeen. I guess he was just trying to tell me Wonwoo's very protective over the people he loves - and that was the only reason why it felt like he didn't like me." Cyana shrugged. "It made me hate him less."

"Ah. Mingyu told her that?" Wonwoo grimaced once hearing what the interviewer told him about Cyana's interview before him. "I guess he's right. I didn't want Seventeen to break apart because of her." He looked away, embarrassed. "They were my first friends. I only have them."

"What do you mean Dino's ill?"

Cyana stared at a worried Hoshi. "Is it serious?" She asked, verging on panic. It felt like the boys were dropping like flies around her - what with Jeonghan's body decay, DK's sore throat, Seungkwan's ankle, Seungcheol's unstable mind and now Dino.

"He's getting it checked." Hoshi told her, not wanting to worry her further with the details. "You won't do anything - panicking like that."

Cyana took a few breaths, knowing he was right. "You're right. Okay." She let out a deep breath. "He'll be okay."

"On in 3 minutes!" A staff member called from the door.

She stood up, following everyone as they shuffled out towards the stage. Wonwoo stumbled a few paces in front of her, making her look his way.

"You good?" She whispered, speeding up to stand beside him.

He only gave her a curt nod, refusing to look at her and instead focusing on the lift in front of them. They could both hear the cheers from here.

"Go, go!" A staff rushes them both onto the lift before either of them could break the silence. Cyana could only glance at him again as they were lifted up onstage.

She thought she was mistaken when she saw him go down. The area behind the stage was dimly lit, and there was a commotion as the Hiphop Unit finished their stage and came down to switch with the Performance Unit. Cyana thought maybe her eyes were acting up, when she saw Wonwoo run down the stairs, take a few steps and drop.

Staff members were on him in an instant. Cyana was shoved aside as they rushed to lift him, moving him out the walkway and onto a table- it's sole purpose was to serve as a bed in case this very thing happened.

She felt like her limbs were falling her, leaving her frozen in place.

"Go." Mingyu mouthed the words at her, pointing at Wonwoo. He pointed next at the tent, gesturing that he needed to get his mic checked. "Stay with him." He pointed again at Wonwoo.

Cyana willed her legs to move, shuffling over to Wonwoo's side. The crowd of staff had dispersed, leaving him alone with two staff members- one with a fan and one with an oxygen tank.

She took the oxygen tank from one of them and told them she could do it instead.

"Wonwoo." She muttered, lifting the oxygen tank and placing it gently in front of his mouth. His chest rose dangerously fast as he tried to catch his breath. "Breathe." She found only English in her mind as she tried not to panic. "Please breathe."

His eyes darted around until they landed on her face. Eyebrows furrowing slightly, he raised a hand and pushed the oxygen tank weakly away from his face, trying to speak. "What- what's going on." He panted out, his speech slightly slurred.

Cyana felt her heart crack. "Don't try to talk." She reprimanded him, gently pushing him back down to rest. "You passed out."

If Wonwoo could breathe, he would've snapped at her to leave him alone, that he could take care of himself. He couldn't. Instead, he closed his eyes, allowing her to take care of him. Just this once.

"She was gentle with me." Wonwoo recalled. "Even though I hadn't been kind to her."

"Breathe." She mumbled again, mindlessly repeating it as her brain turned numb from everything going on. She stayed next to him, raising the oxygen tank to his lips whenever his lungs failed to do the job. "It's okay."

"She stayed throughout the whole thing." Wonwoo looked sheepishly at the camera. "I don't think I even said 'thank you.' We just returned on stage."

Cyana shrugged at the interviewer's question. "He didn't need to say anything. Sometimes words fail us - his eyes said enough."

[crushpunky]

drew tells a story about actress!reader

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this one’s a bit short, but it was suggested and i thought it was really cute so yk i had to write it. based off of drew’s recent esquire interview <3

“Your audition tape for Queer was a slam dunk, can you tell us what you did for the tape?” Drew read the question card.

“Oh, this is actually a funny story.” Drew laughed to himself, crossing his legs. “The first one I had my good friend Rudy Pankow help me tape it. I usually have my girlfriend help me, but she was shooting at the time.”

“One of the scenes was me in bed, I believe, and so Rudy came to my apartment,” Drew explained, speaking dramatically with his hands, “and I had my camera and tripod set up and I was laying in the bed, kinda sort-of framing myself and he came in was like… ‘so what are we doing’?”

Drew laughed, “and I told him, ‘just trust me, ok, I need your help’. Then, as if it couldn’t get any more suspicious, my wonderful girlfriend, y/n, gets back from shooting and walks into our room to find me and Rudy on our bed with the camera set up.”

“I was like, ‘babe I promise this is not what it looks like, I’m just filming an audition’, but she was already like on the floor, crying and laughing.” Drew grinned at the memory, the site of y/n’s smile and adorable laughter playing in his mind.

“But, I appreciate him for helping me with that… and y/n for not freaking out at the strange site she walked in on.” Drew laughed, flipping to the next card.

“Oh, speak of the devil, your good friend y/n y/ln was quoted saying, ‘Drew is probably the scariest sweetheart you’ll ever meet’,” Drew blushed as he read, “what is it like finding the balance between ‘scary’ and ‘sweetheart’ roles?”

The quote was from an interview when someone asked y/n if she ever felt intimidated or even scared working opposite Drew as the big bad Rafe Cameron on Outer Banks. While the scenes between their characters on OBX would certainly get intense at times, it wasn’t very often she was “scared” of Drew. After all, she knew her boyfriend better than anyone else and knew the big heart hiding behind his imposing exterior.

“Wow, I’d like to thank my ‘good friend’ y/n y/ln for that wonderful quote.” Drew grinned, scratching his jaw bashfully. “Well I certainly like to challenge myself, and y’know depending on where I am, that could come in the form of more intense roles or more grounded or more kinda… soft? I don’t know. Y/n says I need to be in a rom com, so maybe that’ll be the next step after this.”

[greengoblinswifey]

heyyy can we get some fem dom nicholas chavez fics? oml i’ve been OBSESSED with your writing your amazinggg!!

Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— at a red carpet event, you and Nicholas share an intimate moment as you're interviewed about your relationship dynamic, with you taking control in a sensual and dominant way, while Nicholas surrenders to your command. after the event, you show him who’s really in control.

warnings— sub!nicholas, strip tease, praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— thank you and enjoy though this was rushed <3 i see you guys’ requests, working on them each, it’ll probably take me a bit as finals week is approaching.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

The evening was extravagant, the flashing lights of cameras following your every move as you and Nicholas made your grand entrance. The air around you seemed to hum with anticipation—l, your black and white two-piece outfit, paired with a delicate black bow in your hair, had garnered its fair share of admiring glances. Nicholas, standing confidently beside you in his perfectly tailored black and white suit, looked every bit the heartthrob the world adored. His arm was wrapped firmly around your waist, his posture poised as he smiled at the flashing cameras.

You could practically feel the envy in the crowd, the whispering excitement as they gawked at the perfect couple that was you two.

It was the interview part that caught you both off guard. The interviewer, a well-dressed woman with an effortless charm, approached you with a grin.

“So, Nicholas,” she began, her eyes twinkling mischievously, “We all know that the internet is absolutely thirsty over you. One question that keeps coming up—are you the dominant type?” She paused and glanced at you with a playful look.

You couldn’t help but laugh, could she not have asked about your individual acting careers? Everyone in the room had been curious about your relationship, especially given the dynamic between you and Nicholas. You both knew the truth—he was far from dominant. But the playful question hung in the air as you looked up at Nicholas, meeting his eyes with that sly smile you reserved for moments like this.

You raised an eyebrow. “We both know the answer to that,” you said with a teasing tone, a glimmer of mischief in your voice. “He’s anything but dominant.”

Nicholas chuckled, brushing his hand through his fluffy hair as he glanced at you with a soft, almost apologetic smile. “Oh, come on,” he said, laughing lightly, “I think I could be the dominant one.”

You couldn’t help but smile even wider. There it was—the playful bravado. You knew he loved to tease, but you also knew the truth. He was yours, in every way that mattered. The cameras clicked around you both, their flashing lights capturing the fleeting moment.

The interviewer pressed further, clearly enjoying the banter. “So, Nicholas, do you let Y/N take charge, or is there more to it?”

You caught the subtle shift in his expression, a momentary flicker of uncertainty. You knew he was always more comfortable when the roles were clearly defined. He loved when you took control, and he relished the moments where you had him exactly where you wanted him. Still, he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

“Of course, I let her take charge sometimes,” he said with a wink, his voice low and confident. “But let’s just say I know how to hold my own.”

Your eyes never left his as you felt a familiar, heated amusement rise within you. You didn’t say anything immediately, instead giving him a knowing, sly smile that only he could interpret. The interview wrapped up soon after, but you could feel the sexual tension between you growing.

Later, as you both slipped into the car to head back to the hotel, Nicholas glanced at you from the corner of his eye, clearly still processing the teasing exchange.

“So,” you teased, turning your body slightly toward him as you sat beside him, “You think you’re the dominant one now, huh?”

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I was just messing with them, you know I’m not really dominant.” His voice trailed off.

Once you arrived at the hotel, you opened the door to your suite—and the atmosphere inside caught you both off guard. The room was bathed in deep red lighting, and a large stripper pole gleamed near the bed. There was a certain sultry vibe in the air that only intensified the electricity between you two.

Nicholas stood frozen at the door, his mouth slightly agape as he looked around the room. His voice barely above a whisper, he asked, “Did you plan all this?”

You took a step forward, a slow, deliberate movement that drew his gaze toward you. A mischievous smile curled at your lips. “What do you think?” you purred. “You might’ve said you’re dominant, but let's see if you can prove it.”

Before he could respond, you walked toward him, your heels clicking against the floor as you reached for his tie. With a firm tug, you pulled him closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “You’re not in control here tonight.”

You pushed him onto the bed with a gentle but firm push, straddling his lap as you let your hands roam to the music playing softly in the background. The sultry beat of Rihanna’s song, Skin, filled the room, setting the tone.

Nicholas’ breath hitched as you began your slow strip tease, starting with a deliberate sway of your hips. He watched, utterly transfixed, his eyes darkening as you spun on the pole with ease, twisting and turning, performing tricks that had him loosening his tie. You could see the tension building in his body, his legs shifting as he fought to maintain control, but his growing arousal was unmistakable.

You caught the sight of his pants tightening as he got hard, a clear sign that the heat between you was almost unbearable. He groaned, his voice rough, “Is it getting hotter in here, or is it just me?” His fingers were trembling as he tugged at his shirt, clearly trying to ease the pressure.

You stopped for a moment, letting your body hover just above his, your fingers trailing lightly over his chest as you leaned in to whisper, “Tell me, who’s the dominant one now?”

He looked up at you with wide eyes, his breath coming in quick gasps. “You,” he muttered, his voice husky, “All you, baby.”

A thrill ran through you at the words, knowing that, no matter what he said in front of the cameras, tonight, he was yours. You kissed him hard, your body pressing fully against his as you let the power shift completely into your hands.

The dim, red lighting in the room created a sultry ambiance, and Nicholas’ breath was shallow as you slowly pulled him closer to the edge of the bed. He was already so lost in you, his eyes dark and desperate, watching your every move with a mixture of awe and hunger.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice rough as he reached for you, his fingers desperate to pull you closer.

You smiled at him, hands moving to gently guide his hands away, a quiet but firm gesture that told him exactly who was in control tonight. “I know,” you whispered, “But tonight, I’m the one in charge.”

He groaned softly at the command in your voice, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and desire. You slowly helped him out of his remaining clothes, taking your time with every movement, savoring the way his breath hitched at each touch. When he was finally naked, your hands hovered over his cock, soft, slow movements that made his skin burn with need.

His hands were on you again, fingers trailing up your thighs, but you stopped him with a soft chuckle. “Not yet,” you teased, your hands moving to his hair, tangling in the strands as you pulled his face toward yours for a deep, hungry kiss.

As your lips met, you could feel him giving in completely, his mouth opening to you as he groaned softly. The kiss was slow, a burn that heated your body with every passing second. You deepened it, your hands still tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you let him feel just how much you wanted him.

“You love when I take control, don’t you?” you murmured against his lips, the words a low tease. “I can see it in your eyes. You love when I tell you what to do.”

Nicholas moaned softly, his head tipping back slightly as his hands roamed over you. “Yes,” he breathed. “I love it. I love when you take me however you want.”

His words made something surge through you leaving your pussy wet. You moved away from him slightly, watching as his eyes followed you, filled with anticipation. You stood before him, feeling powerful, feeling every inch of control settle over you.

“On your knees,” you commanded softly, voice low and commanding.

Without hesitation, Nicholas obeyed, moving to kneel before you. His gaze was filled with admiration, the way he looked at you making your pulse race. He gazed up at you, his lips parted as he waited for your next move.

Slowly, you guided his head to your wet pussy, fingers lightly grazing his chin, guiding him with gentle pressure. “Show me how much you want to please me,” you whispered.

He didn’t hesitate. His hands slid up your thighs, fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner legs, sending a shiver up your spine. His mouth hovered close, his breath warm against your skin.

As he kissed his way up your inner thighs, you let out a soft sigh, your hands still tangled in his hair. “That’s it,” you praised, feeling a surge of power as you guided him. “Just like that. Take your time.”

Nicholas’ lips moved with such care, such reverence, making you feel every moment as he took his time to explore. His lips were soft but insistent as he kissed higher, closer to your pussy, teasing you just enough to drive you wild. You felt him smile against your skin, the gentle pressure of his mouth making you gasp, his hands gripping your hips as he worked his way to where you needed him most.

“Good boy,” you whispered. The praise was just enough to make him groan in response, his lips and hands eager to please. He followed your every direction, his tongue worshipful as he explored every inch of you, making you feel like you were the only person in the world.

As he sucked on your clit, the heat in the room seemed to grow, the intensity of your his movements leaving you breathless. You could feel the desire building within you, the power of knowing how much he craved your control.

“You’re so good at this, baby.”

His response was a needy, almost desperate kiss to your pussy, his mouth moving against you, lips hot and insistent. You felt the rush, the way he shifted beneath you, eager to please, and as your hands tangled in his hair and you moved your pussy on his face, you reached your peak with your juices squirting all over him.

Once you’d rode out your high, the feeling having your eyes roll back, you pulled him up by his hair. His breath caught in his chest, his body trembling with a mix of want and admiration as he gazed at you, eyes clouded with desire.

You straddled him, your pussy hovering above his hard, leaking cock. His hands were immediately on your waist, fingers digging in your brown skin slightly as he looked up at you, the need in his eyes undeniable.

You leaned down, your lips brushing over his ear as you whispered, “You love when I just have you at my mercy, don’t you baby?”

Nicholas moaned softly, his voice hushed, shaky with desire. “Yes, I love it. I need you to guide me. I love knowing that you're in control.”

You smiled at his words, the power rush of knowing how deeply he craved this moment, this surrender, filling you. “Good boy,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. “That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

With that, you sat on his dick and moved slowly at first, teasing him, feeling the heat between you build. His hands moved to your chest, gently cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through you. You gasped, your hips grinding down harder, the connection between you deepening with each movement.

“Tell me again,” you whispered, breathless as you moved against him, “Who’s in control here?”

His answer came in a low groan, his hands gripping you tighter, pulling you closer. “You,” he breathed, his voice rough with want. “You’re in control, baby. Always.”

You felt him buck beneath you, his hips rising to slam into you, but you controlled the rhythm, keeping him on edge, teasing him as you moved on his cock with slow, deliberate force. His breath was ragged now, hands trying to pull you closer, but you kept the power in your hands.

“Please,” he begged softly, eyes filled with a mix of need and reverence. “Don’t fucking stop.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the power of the moment settling over you. “You want to beg for me, Nick?” you teased, your fingers lightly grazing his lips as you leaned in closer. “I love hearing you beg.”

He nodded quickly, his voice desperate. “Please baby, I want to feel you cum on my cock. I need you. I love it when you’re in control.”

The way he said it, so raw and so honest—sent a thrill of satisfaction through you. You felt his need radiating from him with the way he was throbbing inside you, but you held back, taking your time, savoring every moment as you slid up and down. You leaned down, kissing him softly, the gentle, teasing nature of the kiss only heightening the tension between you.

You weren’t ready to let go yet. Not until you’d taken him to the edge and back again.

His touch made you weak, his hands on your hips, pulling you closer, guiding you to move on his cock as he kissed his way down your neck, sucking lightly on the sensitive skin. You moaned softly, a rush of heat flooding you. His name escaped your lips, soft and needy, as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

“You're so good to me,” you whispered against his ear, your voice seductive. “So perfect for me.”

He responded with a low, throaty moan, his hands gripping your hips tighter, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. “And you're so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, his lips brushing against your skin. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You kissed him deeply, your lips soft but demanding, tasting him as you took your time. His hands slid up your back, pressing you flush against him as he kissed you back with equal intensity.

“Do you want to cum for me?” you asked, your lips hovering near his ear, your voice low and teasing. “Tell me you want it.”

He moaned in response, his hands trembling as they traced down your sides. “Please,” he begged, his voice strained with need. “Let me cum. I can’t hold back any longer.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. “Beg me,” you said, your voice steady. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

Nicholas’ eyes locked with yours, full of longing. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he kissed you again, this time with more urgency. “Please,” he said again, more desperately this time, “I need to feel you. I want to let go inside you. Please let me.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, your hands sliding down to his chest as you leaned closer, kissing his lips softly. “You’ve been so good, Nick,” you murmured, your voice thick with praise. “You deserve it. You’ve been perfect for me.”

He let out a low groan at your words, the sound of it like music to your ears. His hands moved to your back again, pulling you even closer. “I’m yours,” he breathed against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “All yours. Always.”

“That’s right,” you said, your voice steady, filled with power. "You’re all mine, baby. So perfect for me."

With that, you squirted on his cock, soaking the hotel sheets, feeling him respond to you immediately, his grip on you tightening as he spurted his load inside you. As he did, he whispered words that sent a rush of heat through your body. “You’re even more perfect than anything else in this world,” he breathed, his voice rough with satisfaction.

The two of you collapsed onto the bed, bodies tangled together, your breaths mingling in the air around you. He kissed you all over, gentle and tender, his lips trailing along your jaw, down to your neck, as though he couldn’t get enough of you.

When his lips finally met yours again, soft and lingering, he pulled away slightly, his breath still ragged. “Round two?” he asked, his voice full of playful desire. “The shower?”

You smiled, running your hands through his hair, your body still humming with the aftermath of the moment. “You want me again that quickly?” you teased.

His eyes sparkled with mischief and hunger. “Always. I can’t get enough of you.”

You kissed him again, feeling the heat between you reignite. “Let’s see if you can keep up,” you said, your tone playful yet commanding.

He smiled, his hands already pulling you up, ready to take you to the shower where you could take him however you wanted again.

[wholoveseggs]

Hey girl, while I am jet-lagged from a trip, another Elijah idea came to me. Memory-free Elijah (Season 5) meets strong and confident human readers, and they start a friendship. She helps him navigate through his new life, and he falls for her. He also kinda forgot that he is a really skilled lover, so it's kinda cute and fluff because he is nervous and sweet, but I imagine that is something he would quickly remember after a few rounds :)

Btw: love, love, love Kinktober!!!

Belonging

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x Reader} You needed a roommate, and he needed a place to belong...but as secrets unravel and his dark past comes to light, your new housemate might just change your life forever.

♡♡ ahhh @originals23 thank you for another spectacular request!! ♡♡

8.8k words {whoops} - Warnings: sssmmuuttt, roommates-to-lovers, lots of sexual tension, Elijah being charming and mysterious, a dash of angst, mild language, protective Elijah, soft and nervous Elijah, domestic fluff, dangerous encounters (brief physical assault), Paris, vampire reveals && all the feelsss

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss @elishi03

Money was tight, as it seemed to be for everyone these days. The economy wasn't kind, and you had bills to pay. You needed a roommate, which was how you found yourself on craigslist. You were hoping for a good, sane human being, but at the end of the day, you would take what you could get.

The first person to show up for the interview was a woman and her very obnoxious boyfriend. You could instantly tell that this would not work, even if you were desperate. She wanted to smoke in the house and have friends over to play loud music and drink all night. You would rather die.

Next came a middle-aged man who immediately gave you the creeps. You had no problem living with men in general, but this guy made you uncomfortable. He stared at you too much and had a weird look in his eyes. You kicked him out quickly, feeling uneasy.

You were about to give up for the day, when a man dressed in slightly worn clothes knocked on the door. You couldn't quite get a read on him, he seemed to be full of contradictions. On the one hand, he didn't look to have a lot of money, perhaps he was even homeless. But his skin was clean, his hair neatly trimmed, and he had an air of confidence that was rare to see.

You invited him in, and he sat at the kitchen table as you asked the usual questions. None of them he could really answer in a straightforward manner.

"Where are you from?"

"I'm not really sure."

"How old are you?"

"I don't know that either."

"Where do you work?”

"I...I'm looking."

You studied him for a minute, and he gave you a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry. I know this is a bit unusual, and I wouldn't have bothered coming here if I had anywhere else to go. The truth is, I have no memories of who I am, where I'm from, or even my age."

"That's...that's a lot to take in," you replied, not sure what else to say.

He nodded solemnly, his gaze steady but filled with vulnerability. “It is. I woke up a month ago on a bus with no memory of how I got there. All I had was this,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a single, ornate cufflink with an engraved ‘E.’ “I think my name starts with an ‘E.’ Beyond that, I don’t have much to go on.

You leaned back in your chair, trying to process the situation. He could have been lying… anyone could come up with a story like that. But something about his demeanor struck you as sincere. He didn’t have the desperation of someone looking for a quick handout. He carried himself with dignity, even as he admitted he had nothing.

"Okay," you said slowly. "So, let’s say I believe you. You’ve got no memories, no job, no ID. How do you plan to contribute if I let you stay here?”

He straightened in his chair, his expression resolute. “I may not remember who I was, but I’m willing to work. I’m a fast learner, and I can help with anything you need around the house. Cleaning, repairs, anything physical...I’ll earn my keep.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure sound confident for someone who doesn’t even know their own name.”

A small, shy smile tugged at his lips. “I suppose some things are instinctual.”

His charm wasn’t lost on you, but you weren’t about to make a decision based on a smile. “And what if you’re dangerous? You could be an escaped convict for all I know.”

His smile faded, and his expression turned serious. “I understand your concern. I don’t believe I’m a danger to anyone, but I can’t offer you proof of that. All I can promise is that I’ll respect your home and your rules.”

You studied him for a long moment, weighing the risks. Something about him made you want to trust him, even though logic told you not to. Maybe it was the way he spoke, all articulate and thoughtful, as though he’d once been someone important. Or maybe it was the quiet sadness in his eyes, the kind that suggested he’d lost something far greater than his memory.

"Alright," you said finally. "You can stay. But there are rules. No bringing strangers into the house, no smoking, no loud music. And if you try anything shady, I’m calling the cops.”

Relief washed over his face, and he nodded earnestly. “Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.”

You showed him to the spare bedroom, which was small but comfortable, and gave him a set of clean sheets and a towel. He looked around the room as though he’d never seen anything like it, running his fingers over the furniture with quiet curiosity.

As he settled in, you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he’d led before he lost his memory. He was polite and well-spoken, yet entirely out of place in the world. And though he seemed vulnerable now, there was something about him… something strong and enduring, like a flicker of a flame waiting to reignite.

For now, you decided to take it one day at a time. After all, what’s life without a little risk?

The following months passed by quickly. You got closer and closer to each other, spending a lot of time together.

He had gotten used to the city life, and you had gotten used to having him around. It had been nice, having someone to come home to, and to talk to.

He was a lovely person, who enjoyed listening to classical music as he cooked, and who was always willing to lend a hand. He was smart, funny, and kind, and you were starting to fall for him.

You weren't sure if he felt the same way about you, but the way he looked at you sometimes, and the way he smiled at you, gave you hope.

You were sitting in the living room, reading a book, while he cooked dinner. The smell of his cooking was making your stomach growl, and you were looking forward to eating whatever he had prepared.

"I found out something interesting today," he said, coming into the room with a bowl of salad.

"What's that?" You asked, putting your book down.

"My name," he said, a slight smirk on his face. "My full name, I mean."

"You did?!" You exclaimed, excitedly.

"Yep," he confirmed, looking pleased with himself. "It's Elijah."

"Elijah," you repeated, testing out the name. "I like it. It suits you."

He smiled, and the sight of his dimples made your heart skip a beat. He was so striking, and you wondered if there was someone out there missing him. Someone who loved him.

"It does," he agreed, his smile fading a little.

"So, how did you find out? Did it just come to you, or did you remember?" You asked.

"Actually... I uh.. ran into someone who claimed to know me. He wasn't very friendly," he explained.

"Oh no, are you okay?" You asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," he assured you. "I wasn't hurt. Just... I don't know, it was odd."

"Odd how?"

"He was angry, and he told me I wanted this, and that I should leave the city for the sake of a woman he wouldn't name," he recalled.

"That's awful," you said, feeling sorry for him.

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Do you have any idea who the woman is?" You asked.

"... I think she might be my family?" He said, looking unsure. "It's hard to explain, but when he mentioned her, it felt like something clicked, and I knew that he was telling the truth."

"Wow, that's big," you breathed.

"I know," he nodded, plating up the food. "It's strange, I don't remember anything about my life, but the mention of her... It felt right."

"Maybe it'll trigger your memories," you suggested, helping him bring the food over to the table.

"Maybe," he agreed.

The two of you sat down to eat, and the conversation shifted to more pleasant topics.

He talked about his favorite books, and his favorite places in the city, and you listened, enjoying his company.

After dinner, you cleared the table, and put the dishes in the dishwasher. And he prepared for his nightly walk, one he didn't want you joining him on.

"Can I join you tonight?" You asked, as he grabbed his jacket.

"Why?" He asked, sounding surprised.

"Because I want to spend more time with you," you explained, hoping he wouldn't think it was too weird.

"Oh," he said, a smile creeping across his face. "Truly, I would love for you to join... But tonight, I want to clear my head. I need some time alone."

"Okay," you agreed, a little disappointed.

"Tomorrow night, perhaps," he said, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You blushed, and watched him leave. He always had an excuse as to why he had to go out on his own, and it was starting to bother you. You couldn't help but worry that he was hiding something from you, or that maybe he didn't feel the same way about you, and this was his subtle way of letting you down.

Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was your growing feelings for him, but you decided to follow him, just this once.

You grabbed a coat and put on a pair of boots, and slipped out the front door. It was a cold, windy night, and you cursed yourself for not bringing a scarf and gloves.

You could see Elijah's silhouette ahead, and you followed him, keeping your distance. He walked with such grace and confidence, the sort of walk that screamed 'I'm rich and powerful,' although his personality hardly lined up with that attitude.

You had a feeling that whoever he was, before he lost his memories, had a lot of money. It was in the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, and the way he could make a cheap t-shirt look elegant.

He wandered into a sketchy part of town, and you wondered why he would want to come here. There were several run-down buildings, and a lot of graffiti. The only people you saw were homeless and drug addicts, and you were starting to get scared.

Finally, he stopped outside an abandoned warehouse. You watched from afar as he walked inside, and a few minutes later, came back out, wiping his mouth. You frowned, wondering what he had been doing in there.

Then, without warning, he turned around and started walking back towards the house.

"Fuck," you muttered, ducking into an alleyway.

You waited until he had passed, and then followed him, staying out of sight. He went back in a different direction, and after a few blocks, you realised he was headed for a park.

You followed him, trying to stay quiet, but your footsteps echoed loudly in the night. You felt foolish, and hoped that he hadn't heard you.

He led you deeper into the park, to an area that was mostly secluded. There was a large tree, with a bench underneath it. He sat down on the bench, and stared up at the sky, which was covered in stars.

You watched him for a moment, wondering if this was his way of relaxing, and what was going through his mind.

Suddenly, his eyes locked onto yours. You gasped and took a step back, your heart racing.

"Are you going to join me, or just keep spying on me?" He asked, his voice amused.

"I wasn't spying," you lied, sitting down next to him.

"Of course not," he replied, his tone clearly mocking you.

"Why are you here?" You asked.

"I like the fresh air, and the view is beautiful," he answered.

"What were you doing in that warehouse?"

"Just clearing my head," he said, his expression becoming serious. "You shouldn't be out here, it's dangerous."

"You are out here," you countered.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling up in the corners.

"That's true," he agreed, looking out into the darkness, his eyes scanning the shadows. His shoulders were tense, and you could tell that he was on alert, even though you were both sitting safely under the tree. "Let's walk back, shall we?"

He stood up and held out his hand. You took it and he helped you to your feet.

"I'm sorry," you apologised, feeling guilty. "I shouldn't have followed you, but I was worried about you."

"It's alright," he said, keeping a grip on your hand as you walked down the path to the park exit.

You enjoyed the feeling of his hand in yours, the warmth of his skin. You glanced at his profile, admiring his handsome features. You noticed the frown on his face, his dark eyes once again scanning the shadows.

He moved a little faster, pulling you along. He seemed anxious to get out of the park, and back to the safety of your condo.

"What's wrong?" You asked, sensing his unease.

"It's nothing," he replied, his tone serious. "But I think it's best we get home, don't you?"

Then the sound of gravel crunching beneath shoes caught your attention. You turned to see a group of men walking towards you, wearing dark clothing, their faces hidden.

Elijah stopped and stepped in front of you, shielding you from the men. They approached slowly, spreading out to surround you. You were frightened, and you held onto his arm, hoping he knew what to do.

One of the men reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. Casually holding it by his side, as if it was a normal object, instead of a deadly weapon.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Elijah said, his tone calm and confident. "How may I be of service?"

The leader of the group chuckled, and shook his head.

"Hand over your money, and no one gets hurt," the man demanded, gesturing the gun at Elijah.

"Of course," Elijah said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He handed it to the man, and the man flipped through it, counting the cash.

"A little light, don't you think?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid I don't carry much cash on me," Elijah said, sounding apologetic.

The man's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, his gaze flicking between you and Elijah.

"Perhaps you should let the lady go, and we can discuss this like civilized men," Elijah suggested, his tone still polite, but his eyes had hardened.

"I don't think so," the man replied, his grip on the gun tightening.

"I uh... don't have anything," you stammered, too terrified to think straight. "I...I left my wallet at home,"

"Liar," the man spat, pointing the gun at you.

Elijah stepped in front of you, putting himself between you and the gun.

"Now, now, there's no need for that," Elijah said, holding up his hands. "We're all reasonable people, let's not resort to violence."

"Then, perhaps, we should take her fancy designer clothes instead. Maybe that'll make up for the loss," the man said, his tone threatening, pressing the barrel of the gun against Elijah's chest.

Elijah tensed, and a low growl escaped his lips. You looked at him in surprise, he didn't seem like the type of guy who would react to threats this way.

The leader's eyes widened, and a small grin appeared on his face.

"Ooh, we have a tough guy here," he said, sounding amused. "Trying to impress your date? She’ a little young for you ain't she?"

His goons laughed, and you felt your cheeks flush.

"She is none of your concern," Elijah replied, his tone sharp.

"Actually, she is. You see, I'm in charge here," the man said, he looked at you and smiled, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth. "Strip. Now. Or I will shoot your sugar daddy in the fucking face,"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head.

"No, no please, we'll give you anything you want, just don't hurt us," you begged, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Clothes. NOW!" The man yelled, pointing the gun at your face.

You hesitated, and he grabbed your hair, yanking you away from Elijah.

"Take off the fucking clothes, or I will kill you both," the man snarled, his breath hot on your face, the barrel of the gun pressed against your temple.

"Alright, alright, don't hurt her," Elijah said, taking off his coat.

"Hurry up," the man snapped, releasing your hair.

You nodded and started to undress, tears streaming down your cheeks. You stripped off your coat and scarf, then pulled off your shirt and pants, shivering as the cold night air hit your bare skin.

You looked at Elijah, who was watching you, his expression unreadable. You could see the muscles in his jaw working, his hands balled into fists.

You were scared, but more than that, you were angry. You hated these men, for the way they were treating you and Elijah, and for the fear and shame they were making you feel.

"There, I'm naked," you said, trying to sound brave.

"Not quite," the man replied, stepping forward. He ran his hands over your body, his fingers rough against your skin, the gun still pressed to your temple.

You flinched, and he chuckled.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not going to rape you," he said, his hand cupping your breast. "You're not my type."

He moved his hand down, stroking your stomach, and then lower, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your panties. You shuddered, and he laughed again.

"But, maybe you'd like a little fun," he whispered, his lips close to your ear.

"That's enough, you've gotten what you wanted, now leave us alone," Elijah demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"It seems your sugar daddy doesn't want to share," the man said, his tone mocking. "He keeps pretending like he's in charge,"

"Please, let us go," you pleaded, your voice breaking.

"No, I think I'm going to keep you," the man replied, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you against his chest.

"You won't harm her," Elijah warned, his eyes blazing.

"Or what?" The man sneered, his fingers digging into your skin.

"I'll kill you," Elijah growled, his voice deadly.

You watched in horror as the other men laughed, raising their guns at Elijah. He didn't even blink, his gaze fixed on the man holding you.

"Is that a threat?" The man asked, his grip on you tightening.

"A promise," Elijah replied, his expression was eerily calm, but his eyes were filled with anger and determination.

The man pressed the barrel of the gun against your skull, the cold metal pressing painfully into your skin. You gasped, and he laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine.

"Walk away, and I'll let her go," the man said, his gaze locked on Elijah.

Elijah looked at you, and his eyes softened.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, his voice soft, barely audible above the sound of your racing heartbeat.

"Yes," you answered, without hesitation.

He smiled, and turned to the man. "Then duck,"

Before the man could respond, Elijah lunged at him, his hand grabbing the wrist holding the gun. The man yelped, and you ducked down, just as Elijah's knee connected with his face. There was a sickening crack, and the man cried out, letting go of the gun.

Elijah caught it before it hit the ground, and other men began firing, hitting Elijah in the chest over and over, but he stood there unfazed, almost bored, like they were annoying pests and nothing more.

One of the men, realizing his bullets were useless, rushed forward and swung a fist, hitting Elijah in the jaw. Elijah didn't budge, grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air. The man gasped, and tried to pry his hand off, but Elijah's grip was too strong.

You watched in awe as Elijah crushed the man's throat, his expression blank. Then, he threw him aside, the sound of bones snapping echoed in the air.

The other men backed away, their faces pale. Elijah ignored them, taking his leather jacket and putting it over your shoulders, before turning his attention to the leader.

The man was kneeling on the ground, clutching his broken nose. He looked up at Elijah, his eyes wide with fear.

"P-please," the man stammered, holding up his hands. "I'm s-sorry,"

Elijah stared at him, his expression cold. "No you are not,"

He crushed the gun in his hands like it was tissue paper, and grabbed the man by the throat. The man choked, his hands clawing at Elijah's arm.

"I promised you that I would kill you, and I intend to keep my word," Elijah said, his voice devoid of emotion.

You watched in horror as he tightened his grip, and the man's face turned purple. You wanted to look away, but couldn't tear your eyes from the scene.

Elijah's expression was a mixture of rage and hatred, his face was no longer human, he had completely black eyes, with veins snaking across his face, and his teeth were razor sharp, almost fang like.

He snapped the neck with a loud crack, and dropped the man to the ground. The other men backed away further, their guns forgotten, the color drained from their faces.

Elijah looked at them, and smiled, his fangs glinting in the moonlight.

"Run," he commanded, his voice dark and deadly.

The men fled, tripping over their own feet, disappearing into the shadows. Elijah turned to look at you, his eyes soft yet completely inhuman.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, unable to speak. You were terrified, but not of him.

"Close your eyes and count to thirty, I'll be right back," he said, and then turned and followed the men.

You watched him run off faster than any human could, and you closed your eyes tightly, hearing screams and cries as he caught the men. You waited, counting down from thirty, and then you heard his footsteps and opened your eyes, his face once again normal, the only hint that he had been a monster moments ago was the blood staining his shirt.

He didn't say a word, just reached out his hand and helped you to your feet. He picked up your clothes and helped you dress, your hands were shaking so badly that you could barely button up your shirt.

When you were dressed, he wrapped his arms around you, and held you close, his warmth enveloping you.

"S-shouldn't we call the cops?" You asked, still in shock.

"There will be no need," he replied, his voice calm and soothing.

You looked at the bodies of the men, and then quickly looked away. Elijah had torn them apart, their limbs twisted and contorted in impossible ways. Their faces were frozen in expressions of terror, their eyes empty and lifeless.

"You're not human are you?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"I'm more human than them," he replied, his grip on you tightening a little. "Let's get out of here, and I'll explain everything."

"Okay," you said, letting him guide you away from the bodies.

You felt numb, and you let him lead you out of the park, your mind struggling to process what had happened. Who was this man? This creature beyond comprehension?

Who had you let into your home?

The sound of the kettle whistling pulled you from the daze you had been in. You were sitting on the sofa, wrapped in multiple blankets, Elijah's coat draped across your lap.

You watched him move about the kitchen, his movements confident and sure.

"Here," he said, handing you a mug of hot tea.

"Thank you," you said, taking a sip.

He sat down next to you, his body close to yours. He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, and you flinched.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised.

"But you killed them," you whispered, your eyes watering.

"I did," he confirmed, his voice calm and steady.

"How?" You asked, looking up at him.

"I have... certain abilities," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Abilities that make me stronger, faster, and more dangerous than any human."

You put your mug down on the table and turned to him, studying his face. He was watching you intently, his eyes filled with concern.

"Are you... are you an alien?" You asked, a hint of fear in your voice.

He laughed, the sound a pleasant rumble.

"No, I'm not an alien," he assured you.

"What are you then?"

"I'm...well.. I think I'm a vampire," he said, sounding uncertain.

A burst of disbelief mixed with terror erupted within you, and you let out a hysterical laugh.

"Vampire," you repeated, shaking your head. "Like Edward Cullen?"

"I don't know who that is," he said, frowning.

You let out another laugh, your mind reeling. It wasn't possible. Vampires weren't real.

"Y/N," he said, his voice serious. "I know this is a lot to take in, but please believe me. I am a vampire. I can't explain how or why, but it's true."

You let him talk as you grabbed your phone and searched up vampires. Showing it to him, and telling him to look at the search results.

"Sparkle in the sun? Not as far as I am aware," he commented, frowning.

"Holy water? Crucifixes?" You pressed.

"I'm not particularly religious," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Garlic?" You questioned.

"I love garlic," he replied, grinning.

"Can you fly?" You asked, wondering how many myths were true.

"I'm not sure," he said, his brows furrowed in concentration. "I've never tried."

He stood up and did a little hop with his arms raised in the air, like some sort of weird bird. You snorted and covered your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh.

"No flying," he concluded, sitting back down.

"So, how old are you?" You asked.

"No idea," he said, a sad look on his face.

"Oh my god, what if you are like one hundred years old?" You asked, your mind racing with possibilities.

"Perhaps," he mused.

You paused at the next item on the list of vampire traits, and hesitated before asking.

"And the other thing... blood," you read, your stomach turning at the thought.

"Yes," he admitted, a look of shame crossing his face.

"So, when you went into that warehouse…?" You began, remembering how he had returned, wiping his mouth.

"I was hungry, and I needed to eat," he said, his voice low.

"So you just went and killed someone?" You asked, unable to keep the judgement out of your voice.

"No, he was very much alive, just passed out," he explained.

"And you didn't kill him," you pressed, not entirely convinced.

"I didn't," he insisted.

"But what if you did? What if the next time you went to get some 'sustenance' you did actually kill them?" You asked, starting to panic.

"Y/N," he said softly, taking your hand. "I would never hurt you,"

You looked at his face, searching for any signs that he was lying. But his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity, and a hint of sadness. His gaze drifted to your lips, and his expression changed, becoming softer, and a little more intimate.

You quickly looked away, back to the list of vampire facts, and cleared your throat.

"Mind control," you read, and felt his gaze linger on you.

"Not to my knowledge," he replied.

"You can't enter a house without being invited," you continued, and his hand tightened around yours.

"Is that a request, or a demand?" He asked, his tone playful.

"It's a question," you countered, blushing slightly.

"Yes, but most invite me in without hesitation," he said, giving your hand a light squeeze. "You did,"

"Oh," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.

Your eyes went back to the mind control section, and a thought crossed your mind.

"Have you used mind control on me?" You asked, a sense of unease washing over you.

"I don't know," he admitted. "If I have, I'm not aware of it."

"Oh," you mumbled, not knowing what to say, but curiosity got the better of you. "Try to, make me do something,"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, something harmless," you said, thinking for a moment. "Make me sing a song,"

"Very well," he agreed, looking thoughtful.

You waited, expecting to start singing. But nothing happened.

"Do you feel any different?" He asked.

"No, nothing," you said, disappointed.

"I don't know what else to suggest," he said, a frown marring his features.

"I don't know, look me in the eye and tell me to do it? Like... Tell yourself you can do it? I don't know… maybe it's a belief thing…?" you offered.

He nodded, and then turned to look directly at you. His dark eyes were intense, and his lips curved into a smile.

"Sing me a song, sweet girl," he said, his voice echoing strangely in your mind.

You told yourself not to sing, to sit quietly and not react. You repeated it over and over, until the words were all that was in your head.

But his voice seeped into the ribbons of your brain, dancing behind your eyes. You lost your awareness of time and space, and suddenly, a melody rose up from within you.

You opened your mouth and the words came tumbling out, and you started singing an old song that had been stuck in your head for days.

Elijah sat back and looked surprised, a small smile on his lips. You stopped singing, your face flushing in embarrassment.

"Holy shit," you gasped, a strange sensation creeping through your mind, like cobwebs being blown away. "It worked,".

"You have a lovely voice," he said, his tone gentle and kind.

"How did you do that?" You asked, feeling unnerved.

"I don't know," he admitted, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "I just believed that I could, and you did as I asked,"

You suddenly stood up, tossing the blankets off of you and heading to your wine rack.

"I need a drink," you declared, and picked a random bottle.

You poured yourself a generous amount, and drank it all in one gulp. Then poured yourself another glass. You looked over at him, and noticed the way his eyes followed the glass as it reached your lips.

"Do you want some?" You asked, the wine giving you courage.

"No, thank you," he replied.

You sat back down on the sofa, and took a long sip. Thinking about all the possibilities of what his vampire status meant.

"Could you mind control my mortgage payments away?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Possibly," he said, smiling a little.

"Could you use your super speed to clean my apartment?" You teased, taking another sip.

"You're not thinking big enough," he replied, his grin growing wider. "I would love to leave this city, find a home in a new town and live a normal life."

"I'm not sure normal is something you could ever be," you quipped, raising an eyebrow.

"You might have a point," he conceded, his tone wistful.

He pointed to the artwork on your walls, you had purchased them at Ikea ages ago. They were those generic wanderlust posters of different famous travel destinations.

"Pick one," he said.

"What?"

"I'll take you there," he offered, his voice soft.

"Seriously?"

"I owe you so much, I think this is the least I can do," he replied.

You stared at him, your mind struggling to process his offer. Was he for real? Was he really willing to take you around the world?

"Paris," you blurted out, a blush rising to your cheeks. "I've always wanted to go,"

"Paris it is," he agreed, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Really?" You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your voice.

"Absolutely," he said, his tone sincere. "I would love nothing more than to take you."

"That's so sweet," you gushed, your face heating up even more.

"So, Paris?" He asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Yeah," you agreed, nodding your head.

"Then we will leave first thing in the morning," he said, his expression brightening.

"But I have work... I need to take time off-" you started to say.

"Forget about all of that," he cut you off, his tone gentle. "I can mind control people, remember? I'll just take care of everything,"

You laughed, the ridiculousness of the situation finally hitting you. He was a vampire, who had mind control powers, and was offering to take you on a trip to Paris.

"This is insane," you giggled, feeling slightly hysterical.

"Indeed," he agreed, grinning.

You finished your wine and set the glass down on the coffee table. His proximity was starting to make you feel hot, and a little giddy.

"So," you began, trying to distract yourself. "I guess I'll go pack my bags,"

"I can buy you anything we need when we arrive," he suggested.

"Are we gonna fly? Like on a plane?"

"I was thinking that I could just jump really hard and we can just land in Paris," he said, a serious expression on his face.

"Oh shut up," you giggled, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.

He chuckled and shook his head.

You smiled and sat back, taking a moment to reflect on the day's events. It had been an emotional roller coaster, and your head was still reeling from the revelation that vampires were real, and sitting in your apartment. But the prospect of a trip to Paris made your heart flutter with joy.

"I can't believe I'm going to Paris," you said, letting out a happy sigh.

"We," he corrected, smiling.

"We," you echoed, a warm feeling spreading through you and a huge grin appearing on your face.

This was going to be the best vacation ever.

France was just as magical as you imagined it would be. Elijah took you to the most luxurious hotel in the city, and ordered a feast fit for royalty. The food was incredible, the atmosphere romantic, and the company... Well the company was a bit odd.

The vampire man, who could control humans with his mind, who had saved you from being mugged, and who was now whisking you around the world, was a little hard to ignore.

What was harder to ignore was the raging jealousy you felt every time someone flirted with him. He was like a magnet for hot people of all kinds, and they would flock to him like moths to a flame.

It was ridiculous really. How they would throw themselves at him, practically begging him to fuck them, and he would politely decline. You felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing that no matter how good looking they were, no matter how talented their tongue, his attention belonged to you.

You were currently strolling along the Seine, admiring the sights, when you noticed a group of young women watching Elijah.

"They're looking at you," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

Elijah didn't bother looking up from his guidebook, but a smirk spread across his lips.

"I'm sure they are," he replied, sounding amused.

"Why are girls so obsessed with you?" You asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

"I have been told I'm... As the young say these days, a snack," he said, laughing at his own joke.

You couldn't help but snort and laugh along with him. He was a complete dork sometimes, and it made him all the more endearing.

He looked over at you and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had been feeding from plenty of tourists, much healthier blood than the people he found on the streets of New York. His complexion was no longer the sickly grey it had been. Now he looked healthier, his skin glowing, and his eyes shining.

"Do you think I'm a snack?" He asked, his tone playful.

"I think you're an entire six course meal," you replied, trying to sound cool.

"Is that so?" He asked, an eyebrow raising.

You flushed and looked away, trying to hide your embarrassment. Why were you acting like such a teenager?

"Yeah," you murmured, fidgeting with your jacket zipper.

"Perhaps you'd like a bite," he said, his voice low and inviting.

"Oh stop it," you groaned, pushing him playfully.

"No seriously, I've seen how you look at me. You want to sink your teeth into me," he teased, giving you a wink.

"That's you, Mr. Vampire," you retorted, sticking your tongue out at him.

He grinned and reached for your hand, taking it in his and bringing it to his lips.

Your heart rate increased, and your cheeks flushed. You could feel the heat rising to your face, and you quickly pulled away.

"You're such a flirt," you finally managed, shaking your head. "I bet if you kissed the hand of one of those girls over there, they would swoon right into the river,"

"I could," he agreed, looking at the group of young women.

The group of girls noticed him looking and they quickly began giggling and whispering amongst themselves. One of the girls waved at him and he waved back, his expression playful.

You couldn't help but smile at his antics. He seemed much happier here in Europe than he did back home, and his smile was infectious.

"See, they are already falling over themselves for you," you laughed.

One of the girls broke off from the group and walked up to Elijah. She was stunning, with long blonde hair, and big brown eyes. She said something to him in French, and he laughed and responded.

When you landed in France, Elijah could speak French perfectly. He didn't even notice he was doing it until you called him out on it. Making you both wonder just how much knowledge was locked away inside his mind.

You couldn't understand what they were saying, but the conversation seemed lighthearted. He took your hand and kissed it again, before saying something else to the girl.

She giggled and looked at you, giving you a wide smile. "Zhou are very lucky to 'ave such a fine 'usband."

You were shocked by her words, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Oh, we're not married," you stammered, shaking your head.

"Oh," she said, her eyebrows raising. "'E is zee lover?"

You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you. The idea of Elijah being your lover was too ridiculous to consider. But before you could correct her again, he spoke up.

"Oui, je suis votre amant," he purred, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.

Your stomach clenched at his words, and your mind struggled to come up with a response.

"Oui, oui, très romantique," the girl giggled, giving you a knowing look. "I'll let you get back to your 'oneymoon,"

She waved at you, and you awkwardly waved back.You watched her join her friends, who all began whispering and giggling again, the blonde fanning herself dramatically and clutching her chest.

"Did you just tell her that we were lovers?" You asked, turning to look at him.

His lips twitched into a faint smile, though he avoided meeting your gaze. “I thought it might discourage her interest.”

Your irritation faltered, replaced by something warmer. “She’s beautiful, Elijah. Why wouldn’t you want her attention?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the cobblestones. When he finally looked up, his dark eyes were steady but uncertain. “Because she’s not you.”

The world seemed to tilt, the bustling streets fading into silence. You stared at him, your chest tight.

“Elijah...” you began, but whatever you were about to say was lost as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative kiss.

It was soft at first, hesitant, as though he were unsure if he was doing it right. But when you responded, your hands gripping his coat, your lips parting for him, his hesitation melted away. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.

The sound of giggles broke the spell, and you pulled back, breathless and flushed. The group of girls was watching you, their laughter light and teasing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Elijah’s forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Was that... acceptable?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

You laughed softly, your hand sliding to his jaw. “More than acceptable.”

Relief flickered across his face, though his cheeks were still flushed. “I wasn’t sure if I...” He trailed off, his uncertainty palpable.

“You were perfect,” you whispered, your thumb brushing over his cheek.

His lips curved into a small smile, and for a moment, the two of you simply stood there, the city alive around you but forgotten in the haze of the moment.

"That was my first kiss," he said with a small laugh.

You smiled, your hand cupping his cheek, tracing along his jawline. Taking in his handsome face, his deep brown eyes, his soft lips. You wanted more, you wanted it all.

"I have a strong feeling you've done that plenty of times before, you just don't remember," you teased, your gaze darting to his lips.

He let out a nervous chuckle, his fingers gently caressing your sides.

"Perhaps," he conceded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You stood on your tiptoes, and leaned in close, your lips inches away from his.

"Maybe I should refresh your memory," you said, your voice soft and flirty, "Back at our hotel,"

"Yes," he agreed, his smile growing wider. "And after, perhaps we could discuss this 'lover' business further,"

You snorted and playfully hit him on the shoulder, and his deep, sexy laugh echoed through the streets of Paris.

"Shut up, you are so cheesy," you giggled, your cheeks hurting from how wide your grin was.

He took your hand and kissed the top, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Let's go," he said, his voice warm and full of promise.

The two of you rushed down the street, and headed back to the hotel. The possibilities running through your head, making your heart pound with excitement.

Paris was already the most romantic place on earth, but now, with Elijah by your side, it was about to become unforgettable.

It had been quite a while since you last had sex, and you were feeling more than a little pent up. It also didn't help that Elijah was stupidly hot and a complete gentleman.

You had fantasized about him multiple times since the moment you met, and now the opportunity to make those dreams a reality was right in front of you.

You wondered what having sex with a vampire would be like, would he use his fangs? Would he be gentle or rough? You shivered, the thought exciting you more than it should.

The two of you rode the elevator up to your room in silence, both of you trying not to rush, but the tension was thick. He was holding your hand, and when the doors opened, you both hurried down the hall.

You let out a squeal as he scooped you up before you reached the door, carrying you the rest of the way. He used his supernatural speed, and before you could register what was happening, he was already kicking the door open and stepping inside.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and the excitement coursing through your veins. He gently placed you on the bed, and you let out a soft gasp as he crawled over you.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and soft.

You could feel the blush spreading across your face, and the heat pooling in your core. He kissed your neck, and you let out a soft moan.

"I confess I haven't done this before," he murmured against your skin, his hands caressing your sides.

"I really doubt that," you said with a laugh, your voice breathless. "Have you seen yourself? Whoever you were before you lost your memories... He was a ladies man, I can guarantee it,"

He laughed and shook his head, slowly unbuttoning your dress.

"I suppose I'll just have to rely on my instincts," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face.

And those instincts... were impeccable.

His hands were warm and gentle on your bare skin, his lips soft and teasing. He took his time taking off your dress, savoring the moment, until you were finally lying beneath him, completely naked.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel the heat rising in your face. His eyes were dark and hungry, and you were desperately trying to keep your cool. But it was nearly impossible, especially with his perfect body looming over you.

You leaned up and kissed him, a deep, passionate kiss that left you breathless. Your hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it free from his pants. He chuckled, helping you remove his clothing. Your fingers traced along his firm chest, and down his arms, enjoying the feel of his skin.

You could tell he was a little nervous, his movements slow and tentative. He avoided your gaze, but kept glancing at you. A slight blush crept up his cheeks, and he let out a soft sigh.

"I do not wish to disappoint you," he confessed. "I fear I may fail at this task,"

You cupped his cheek, and gave him a soft smile.

"It's okay," you reassured him, your tone gentle. "We'll figure it out together,"

He nodded, and let out a shaky breath. You kissed him, trying to help him relax, and he returned the gesture with a little more confidence.

You gently guided his hands to where you wanted them, showing him what made you feel good. His fingers gently brushed over your slit, and a soft moan escaped you. He looked a little surprised, but his lips curved into a faint smile.

He began to explore, his thumb circling your clit. His movements were slow and deliberate, and you found yourself arching into his touch.

"Like this?" He asked, his voice soft and teasing.

"Mhm," you murmured, a blissful smile on your lips.

He kissed your neck, and you could feel his fangs brushing against your skin. The thought sent a shiver of excitement through you, and a soft moan slipped out.

His fingers eased inside you, curling just right, and you couldn't help but gasp. He let out a soft laugh, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you.

"I take it that's the right spot?" He teased, his voice low and seductive.

"Mhm," you moaned, nodding your head.

"What a pretty little sound," he praised, his lips brushing against your ear.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, and he continued his gentle assault on your senses. His fingers worked you slowly, and his lips on yours felt divine.

The heat was rising, and you could feel the pressure building inside you. His thumb teased your clit, and his fingers stroked you just right. Your hips rocked against his hand, and he let out a soft hum of approval.

"Elijah," you moaned, your voice low and breathless.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

"I'm so close," you panted, your nails digging into his skin.

"Go on," he urged, his fingers increasing their pace.

Your breath caught in your throat, your legs trembling. The heat was almost unbearable, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge. You closed your eyes, lost in the sensation, and then it was crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

You opened your eyes, and he was watching you with a bit of wonder in his gaze. You flushed, your heart still pounding in your chest. You could feel the heat in his eyes, and you knew he was enjoying this as much as you were.

When the aftershocks finally faded, he gently withdrew his fingers, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, and a sense of need overtook you.

You splayed your hands on his chest and pushed him onto his back, straddling him, and giving him a good view of your body.

He looked up at you with wide eyes, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed. He was gorgeous, and you felt a surge of pride knowing that he was yours.

Your hands were moving steadily downward, and when they reached his belt, you slowly started unbuckling it.

His breathing was getting heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you touched him through his boxers. He let out a low groan, his hands reaching for your hips, pulling you closer.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, his arousal pressing against your core. His eyes were hooded, and his breathing was ragged. You slowly pulled his boxers down, his thick cock springing free.

"My my," you said with a smirk, taking his length in your hands and stroking him gently. "Is this all for me?"

He groaned, his hips rocking forward, eager for more contact.

"All yours," he panted, his voice low and husky.

You could see the desire in his eyes, the need burning within him. And as his fingers dug into your hips, guiding you into position, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto his length, hissing as he stretched and filled you.

"Oh," you moaned, your head tilting back as he bottomed out.

He was big, and it had been awhile, you reached out for him, and he sat up and took your hands, kissing each one.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his tone soft and concerned.

"Yes," you breathed, your eyes meeting his. "You feel really good,"

His lips curved into a satisfied smile, and his fingers caressed the small of your back, gently encouraging you to move.

You began rocking your hips, slowly at first, and then building up to a steady pace. You were panting, the friction delicious, and he was gripping your hips tightly, his own movements matching yours.

The room was filled with the sounds of your pleasure, the bed creaking beneath you, the headboard tapping against the wall. The scent of sex and desire permeating the air.

You could feel the flush spreading across your cheeks, and the heat building inside you. He was hitting all the right spots, and the look on his face was making you even more turned on.

He was watching you with such intensity, his gaze focused on your expression. Every time you moaned, or shuddered in pleasure, his lips would curve into a satisfied smirk, and his grip would tighten on your hips.

You were close, the pressure coiling within you, and you could tell he was close too. His movements were becoming more frantic, and his breathing was coming in short gasps.

You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He responded eagerly, pushing you backwards, and pinning you beneath him. He gripped your hips tightly, his thrusts becoming harder, faster.

You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders. You were so close, teetering on the edge, and then you felt his fangs brush against your neck, and that was all it took.

The pressure released, waves of pleasure washing over you, and you cried out, your legs shaking. He groaned, his movements becoming erratic, and then he was spilling himself inside you, his cock throbbing and twitching.

He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot on your neck, and his skin slick with sweat. Your fingers gently traced along his spine, and he let out a satisfied hum.

He rolled off of you, and laid down beside you, his hand reaching for yours. You laid on your side, and intertwined your fingers with his, a content smile on your lips.

"That was amazing," you breathed, letting out a soft laugh.

He chuckled, his eyes fluttering shut.

"I agree," he murmured, his tone soft and sleepy.

You gently kissed his forehead, and then his cheek, and his lips. He smiled, his eyes closed, his expression peaceful.

You had never seen him like this before, and it made your heart swell. You couldn't help but lean forward and place a kiss on his chest, right above his heart.

You scooted closer, resting your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.

"I love you," you whispered, your fingers gently tracing along his collarbone.

He stirred slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

You smiled, snuggling against him, and letting the warmth of his body lull you to sleep.

It had been a long, strange journey, and there were still so many questions left unanswered, but in that moment, none of that mattered.

All that mattered was the man next to you, and the promise of what the future held.

[offtorivendell]

Elain, Gwyn and a possible January birthday...

I can't believe it's the end of the Year of our Cauldron 2024 and this argument has resurfaced, but here we go I guess.

Thank you @shitwillnotbegiven for working though this with me!

Firstly, I really want people to know that none of this even matters; the interview in which Steph asked SJM if Azriel's person could have her birthday happened after ACOSF was sent* to be published. So whatever couple was built up was already set in the text. It's a complete non issue. Secondly, SJM has fudged up the numbers before; I am pretty sure that someone did the maths and, according to canon, Eris would have only been around 8yo when he left Mor at Autumn's border! These things happen, and SJM has said she's not a numbers person (no shame).

* Correction: ACOSF was not yet published, but it would have been at the printers and/or being shipped out. Thank you @valentiinexo.

Thirdly, assuming SJM honours the promise to begin with, even if the birthday request predated ACOSF being sent to the printers, it's still a non issue because both Elain and Gwyn could have been born in January. I don't know why people are saying Elain was born over the summer, besides wanting to reassure themselves that she won't end up with Az.

But let's have a look.

Elain

Nesta said that Elain was "barely thirteen" at the ball when the heiress bullied her for whatever reason.

“She wouldn’t have gone into much detail about it,” Elain said. “Nesta was only fourteen at the last ball we went to before—well, before we were poor …” Elain shook her head. “Another young heiress was at the ball, and she positively hated me. She was several years older, and I’d never done anything to provoke her hatred, but I think …” “She was jealous of your beauty,” Amren said, an amused smile on her red lips. Elain blushed. “Perhaps.” It was definitely that. Even though Elain would have been barely thirteen at the time. “Well, Nesta saw how she treated me, her casual cruelties and snubs, and bided her time. Waited until that ball, when a handsome duke from the continent was there to find a bride. His family had run out of money, which was why he’d deigned to come over at all—to nab a rich bride to refill their estate’s coffers. Nesta knew the heiress had her sights set on him. The girl had bragged about it to all of us in the powder room at every ball for weeks leading up to it. - ACOSF, chapter 44

Nesta herself was only "fourteen," born in the spring.

Cassian held her gaze as he stalked for her, then reached out an arm— And plucked the cerulean-and-cream scarf Elain had given her for her birthday this spring off the hook on the wall. He gripped it in his fist, dangling it like a strangled snake as he brushed past her. - ACOSF, chapter 1

As the map and seasons of Prythian both coincide with the map and seasons of the UK and Ireland/the northern hemisphere in general (besides the four seasonal courts), and it should be safe to assume that the ball happened during the social season, then we can extrapolate from most online sources, which suggest that would have begun when British parliament returned after closing for the winter.

Per Wikipedia:

The Season coincided with the sitting of parliament; it began some time after Christmas and ran until midsummer, roughly late June. Some sources say it began at Parliament's Easter session break. The social season played a role in the political life of the country: the members of the two Houses of Parliament were almost all participants in the season, as all Peers sitting in the House of Lords were by definition nobility, and many if not most Members of the House of Commons were gentry. But the Season also provided an opportunity for the children of marriageable age of the nobility and gentry to be launched into society.

Feyre confirmed as much in ACOTAR, because she arrived back in the human lands after the "socialite season" had ended and it was getting into summer. Elain was even wearing summer appropriate attire and was flushed - maybe from the heat as much as her excitement?

Summer—in the weeks that I’d been painting and dining with Tamlin and wandering the court lands at his side, summer had come. Did my family still truly believe me to be visiting some long-lost aunt? What were they doing with themselves? - ACOTAR, chapter 25

I glanced sidelong at her. My sister was beaming, content—prettier than I’d ever seen her, even in her simple muslin gardening dress. Her cheeks were flushed beneath her large, floppy hat. “I think—I think I’d like to see the continent,” I said. And it was true, I realized. There was so much of the world that I hadn’t seen, hadn’t ever thought about visiting. Hadn’t ever been able to dream of visiting. “I’m surprised you’re so eager to go next spring,” I said. “Isn’t that right in the middle of the season?” The socialite season, which had ended a few weeks ago, apparently, full of parties and balls and luncheons and gossip, gossip, gossip. Elain had told me all about it at dinner the night before, hardly noticing that it was an effort for me to get down my food. - ACOTAR, chapter 29

The following afternoon, bleary-eyed and quiet, we all gathered at the lunch table. I thanked my sister and father for the party, and dodged my father’s inquiries regarding whether any of his friends’ sons had caught my eye. The summer heat had arrived, and I propped my chin on a fist as I fanned myself. I’d slept fitfully in the heat last night. It was never too hot or too cold at Tamlin’s estate. - ACOTAR, chapter 31

Spring is "right in the middle of" Prythian's social season. Winter > spring (tulip season) > summer. Feyre gives us this information.

All of this is to say that it is absolutely possible for Elain to be born in January and be "barely thirteen" years of age in the late winter/early spring of the same year "weeks" later, when Nesta got revenge for her at the ball. And Nesta, who was "only fourteen" at the time, could have been nearing her fifteenth birthday. "Two under two" is a common saying for a reason, and I suspect the "only" was not to suggest that Nesta had recently turned fourteen (though two in one year is definitely possible), but that she was too young for marriage in her father's/family's opinion, and the entire situation was ludicrous.

Perhaps the wooden rose was actually a birthday gift for Elain from Papa Archeron?

She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.” - ACOSF, chapter 55

Gwyn

If Gwyn and Catrin were conceived on Calanmai, which is the first of May, and faerie pregnancies last ten months - this is of course assuming that their half-nymph mother would have expected the same duration of her pregnancy as a high fae like Feyre - then yes, a pregnancy with a due date of May plus ten months (it's impossible to count from her last missed period as we know at least the high fae only have two cycles a year, so the conception date will have to do) could end with a set of twins born in January.

Gwyn went on, “My mother was unwanted by either of their people. She could not dwell in the rivers of the Spring Court, but was too untamed to endure the confinement of the forest house of Autumn. So she was given in her childhood to the temple at Sangravah, where she was raised. She partook in the Great Rite when she was of age, and I, we—my sister and I, I mean—were the result of that sacred union with a male stranger. She never found out who he was, for the magic chose him that night, and no one ever showed up to ask about twin girls. We were raised in the temple as well. I never left its grounds until … until I came here.” - ACOSF, chapter 29

Around half of twin pregnancies make it to term, and 90% are born after 32 weeks (per google), so even with the extrapolation between human data and the barely existent faerie pregnancy "lore" I think that a January birthdate for Gwyn and Catrin is not a risky guess. I also think it's much more exciting to refer to pregnancy "lore" than data, so can we all get that going? 😂

So yeah, there you have it. Both Elain and Gwyn could have been born in January. Though again, it was a request made after ACOSF was finished. This argument doesn't "benefit" either side, and to suggest that it eliminates either Elain or Gwyn is disingenuous. Why does it keep popping up?

[azaharinflames]

the ratings are not going to drop, the last episode did very well, so do you think GA really cared about Tommy? We talk about it but sometimes I feel like it's more how we would like to see the situation than what the reality is for viewers who follow the show without interacting on social media.

Hi, Nonnie! Thanks for the ask

Thing is - the ratings are dropping, regardless of Tommy. They’ve been steadily dropping since the beginning of the season, especially since the Young Sheldon spin-off premiered. And again - that is independent from Tommy.

I will also add that there isn’t a real reason for the people to stop watching if it was because of Tommy, which maybe is an unpopular opinion. But what we see in canon is Buck longing for Tommy. If you look at the show and just the show and not the interviews, wouldn’t you expect something to happen? Thus, wouldn’t you still watch, in case it does? The break up was open ended for a reason - if that was to keep the audience engaged until they find a new LI, or if that was to later on have them come back together, we won’t know for a long while.

I will say, some of the GA did express disappointment. GA doesn’t mean they absolutely never use social media, at least with part of the GA. The response to the break up wasn’t just kept in fandom - it was one of the only times I’ve seen some members of the GA actually making themselves known. I think it’s undeniable the GA at the very least liked Tommy, and the insistence that they didn’t seems very like the other side.

All in all - regardless of Tommy, 911 could be doing better in terms of rating. It’s normal for the audience to drop as the season goes, but there is also a clear winner in the competition of the night, and 911 isn’t it. Which is to be expected, as Young Sheldon (the spin off) is fairly new and I know people were excited for it.

We’ll see what happens once 8b airs. Hopefully the hiatus helps the ratings.

My inbox is open for ranting, venting, and discussing (911 or whatever) :)

Take care <3

[tavolgisvist]

Scouse

Viscount Montgomery Brian Epstein’s personal assistant Barry Leonard quit his job ‘because the strain of managing the Beatles is just too great’. In an article in the Daily Express Leonard told about his experiences with the Beatles. Among other things, he said Paul wanted to leave the group and was trying to lose his Liverpool accent. As the Beatles gathered at the office of their accountant, Epstein mentioned the story to Paul. ‘Barry says you are trying to lose your accent,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t,’ muttered John, as he examined a likeness of the Beatles fashioned in papier mâché.

(Love Me Do. The Beatles Progress by Michael Braun, 1963/1995)

After a short interview in which they sound like they're putting on Liverpool accents (particularly Paul and John), 'and now their new single Love Me Do'. 'FANTASTIC…turn it UP!' (I shouted in my head). That's my brother…my bloody brother!…My head's exploding…'so ple-e-e-se love me do'. <…> I dashed back to Forthlin to tell Dad I'd seen our Paul on the TELLY and then waited for Paul to come home to see if he'd changed at all. By the time he eventually got in, Dad and I were in bed but I was still awake. The conversation probably went like this: 'Psst…here you.' 'Is Dad asleep?' 'Of course he is, it's past two o'clock.' 'We were celebratinh. Did you see it?' 'Yeah it was gear, it really was.I had to watch it in a bar down from Bernard's, but it was fabulous.' 'Could you see the velvet collar?' 'Sure, you could see everything.' (When the decision to 'go commercial' and buy suits instead of the cool Hamburg leathers was reached, mainly by Brian, Paul had smoothed over the shock by saying, 'But ours are different from anybody else's…ours have got velvet collars…look.' As the cardboard box lid was lifted and the white tissue paper unfolded to disclose the dark blue 'Dougy Millins' tailor-made suit, sure enough, the highly polished, trouser creased, mohair suit was topped with a black velvet collar.) 'But why did you talk like that on the TV? It sounded like George gone wrong…you don't talk like that.' 'I know that, you know that, but they don't know that…It's part of the image…' 'Monkey suit and phoney accents?…anyway it worked, it was fantastic.' 'Gear, I'll be off then, ny nyte.' 'Nigh-night…psst can I have your autograph?' 'Sod off.'

(Mike McCartney, 1981, Thank U Very Much. Mike McCartney's Family Album)

Part (I), (II), (III), (IV), (V), (VI)

Interviewer: Are you going to lose some of your Liverpool dialect for the Royal show? Paul McCartney: No, we don't all speak like BBC

(Interview 16th Oct 1963, befor the Royal Variety Charity)

We went to London to party. I always tell this story, it happened pretty much like this. The week before Merseybeat broke up here [in London], or a couple of weeks before, I was just with my friends, and you were at a posh party, and they'd come up to you [adopts 'posh' voice] 'hi, how are you?' 'Great, thanks.' 'My name's Peregrine, and this is Cecilia…' 'Oh, great, hi.' 'Where are you from?' 'Oh, Liverpool…' 'Anyway, Cecilia, you said…' And they just turned their backs on you, because it was so simple - you were useless to them, useless. Anything north of the Cape was the hinterland, the jungle. So they couldn't care less. And then, a week later, Merseybeat suddenly goes 'bang!' He goes down to London before he conquers America and the world… and it's the same party, "Oh, I'm Sebastian, this is Claudia, what's your name?" "I'm Mike." "Where are you from?" "Liverpool." "Liverpool, oh my God, guys, come here, look, these guys from Liverpool, it's just wonderful." And then they'd do a Liverpool accent, and that's why it always came out Brummie [Birmingham], because they couldn't do a Liverpool accent. So, yeah, you were a nobody, and suddenly everything changed.

(Mike McCartney, interview for the Super Deluxe Edition, September 26, 2019)

pic by lisamarie-vee

+about suits

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

A race for love p.15

Hii guyss, I hope you enjoy this part. If you've missed part 14 or the other parts you can find them on my masterlist :)

Formula 1 is all about speed, but in this story, the real race isn't just on the track. Read on to find out who will win the ultimate race-for your heart.

- Spa 2023 -

Race day in Spa has the paddock buzzing with energy, especially with a massive wave of Max fans taking over. The sea of orange flags and cheering crowds are electric, creating a wild atmosphere that only adds to the pressure and excitement in the air. You've been running around the McLaren motorhome all morning, lending a hand wherever it's needed, keeping track of the endless details that keep the day moving smoothly.

As the race unfolds, though, things don't go as planned for McLaren. Oscar struggles with the car and ends up finishing last, while Lando manages to place seventh but isn't particularly pleased with the result. The mood in the motorhome is a mix of disappointment and exhaustion. As the post-race interviews begin and everyone is occupied, you slip out of the motorhome and make your way to the F2 and F3 paddock, eager to catch up with friends before the day ends.

When you arrive, you see Franco chatting with some of his team, and a smile spreads across his face as soon as he notices you.

As you settle into Franco's embrace, the weight of the morning starts to slip away. His arms around you feel like the first bit of peace you've had all day.

"Alguien está cansada," he murmurs, a soft smile playing on his lips as he holds you close. "You've been running around all day, haven't you?"

(Someone is tired)

You nod, letting out a tired sigh. "It's been non-stop, honestly. And with the race going so badly, the McLaren motorhome is just... tense. No one knows what to say to each other."

Franco tightens his arms around you, resting his chin gently on your head. "Lo siento, mi amor," he says, his voice warm and soothing. "I get it. My race wasn't great either; we just didn't have the pace, and it's hard not to feel... a bit useless, you know?"

(I'm sorry, my love)

You look up at him, sympathy filling your gaze. "I know it's not what you wanted," you say softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair back from his forehead. "But I also know you did your best, and there'll be more races, better ones. I'm always here cheering for you, win or lose."

He gives you a small, grateful smile. "Gracias, hermosa. You know... it really helps, knowing you're here, even on days like this."

(Thanks, beautiful)

For a moment, you both stand there, wrapped in each other, blocking out the noise of the paddock. The world feels smaller, quieter, and safer. Franco lets out a soft sigh as he runs his hand soothingly along your back, his words gentle. "I don't think I've ever looked forward to seeing someone so much. Tú me haces sentir mejor, just being here."

(You make me feel better)

The way he says it, his voice so tender and sincere, makes you smile. "You too, Franco," you reply, feeling the words settle warmly between you. "I didn't realize how much I needed this—just us, right here."

He kisses your forehead, pulling you even closer. "We'll take more moments like this, I promise. Nadie más, sólo tú y yo."

(No one else, just you and me)

You stay wrapped up in him, feeling a deep comfort you didn't realize you were missing. But after a few more quiet moments, you suddenly remember.

"Oh, I totally forgot," you say with a small laugh, pulling back slightly. "I need to return Ollie's sweatshirt."

Franco raises an eyebrow, a smirk forming. "Ah, el famoso Ollie," he teases, a hint of playful jealousy in his tone. "I'll come with you. I think I'd like to see his face when you give it back."

(Ah the famous, Ollie)

You laugh, linking your arm through his as you both head back towards the paddock, and Franco's lighthearted presence fills you with a renewed warmth.

As you and Franco finally spot Ollie, you call out, "Ollie!" He turns at the sound of your voice, a smile spreading across his face—until he sees Franco by your side. The warmth in his expression fades slightly, but he quickly covers it up as you approach.

"Hey! I wanted to give this back," you say, holding out his sweatshirt with a grateful smile. "It saved me last night, so thanks for that."

Ollie takes the sweatshirt, his smile returning. "Anytime. Glad it came in handy." His gaze shifts briefly to Franco, then back to you. "We had a blast last night—hopefully, we can do it again sometime."

Franco's arm slides casually around your shoulder, his thumb brushing gently against you. "Oh yeah, she told me all about it," he chimes in with a grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Seems like you guys were having a lot of fun. Maybe next time, I'll join and see what's so entertaining."

The air between Franco and Ollie shifts, the tension barely noticeable to you, but an unspoken challenge passes between them as their gazes lock. Ollie's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, while Franco's smirk lingers, his stance relaxed but his eyes holding steady.

Just as you're about to notice the shift in their expressions, your dad's voice crackles from your phone, snapping you back to the moment. "Where are you? I'm ready to go."

"Oh! Gotta go." You quickly step forward, hugging Ollie tightly. "See you next race," you say, smiling warmly at him.

Then, turning to Franco, you squeeze his hand as he pulls you into a brief, soft hug. "Catch you soon, princesa," he murmurs, a hint of affection in his voice as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

With a wave, you dash toward the F1 paddock, the lingering looks between Ollie and Franco fading from your mind as you hurry to catch up with your dad.

After you leave, Franco turns back to Oliver, his expression hardening as he faces him with a smirk. "So, in case it wasn't clear," he says, a hint of triumph in his voice, "we're together now. Maybe if you'd been faster, things would've been different." He shrugs casually. "But I guess that's what separates the winners from the rest, no?"

Oliver's jaw clenches, the shock in his eyes quickly replaced by anger. "You think just because she trusts you, I should? I don't," he retorts, voice low and simmering. "Maybe she's let her guard down around you, but I haven't. And just because she's with you doesn't mean I'm going anywhere, especially when there are still questions unanswered. I haven't forgotten those messages. Can you say the same?"

Franco's smirk fades slightly, but he holds Oliver's gaze with steady confidence. "Keep thinking whatever you want," he replies, unfazed. "You're only here because she hasn't told you to back off yet. And maybe she never will, but you're not her priority—I am." He leans in, dropping his voice. "So why don't you let her be happy, instead of clinging to something that's not happening?"

Oliver's hands ball into fists, but he keeps his voice calm. "As long as I have a reason to doubt you, I'm not going anywhere. Whatever's going on with those texts? Maybe she should be doubting you too."

Before Franco can respond, an engineer from his team calls him over, effectively ending the confrontation. He gives Oliver one last look, daring him to push back, before walking away.

Meanwhile, you're back at the McLaren motorhome, oblivious to the clash that just took place. You dive into your work, helping Lando's and Oscar's crews with post-race equipment checks and preparations before leaving. There's a hint of tension in the air, but you shrug it off, attributing it to the stress of the race day.

Tag list: @hs2016, @a-beaverhausen

[cherrylng]

My Chemical Romance - Gerard Way interview [INROCK (May 2006)]

“I'm using the word "love" for the first time. I can definitely say this is based on real experience.”

Gerard Way / My Chemical Romance INTERVIEW: AI ANAZAWA

My Chemical Romance have been laying low of late in order to work on a new album following "Sweet Revenge". If all had gone according to plan, recording would have started at some place in Los Angeles by now, but this time it is Rob Cavallo, who produced their heroes Green Day, who is in charge of production. According to Rob, the new album has "some dark stuff, some references to Queen and The Doors. There are also some experimental parts that are reminiscent of System of a Down." The working title of the new album is "The Rise and Fall of My Chemical Romance." It is significant that the album is about 'the rise and fall of My Chemical Romance', even though they have only released two albums so far. As we wait for the album to be released before the end of the year, we attempted an email interview with Gerard, who says he loves Japan.

How have you been? How are you doing these days? Gerard Way (vo.): Good question. I actually just got back from Japan the other day, can you believe it? The day we finished touring in Australia, I went to Japan for a holiday. I was so happy this time because I got to see the beautiful land of Japan without working. What else have I been doing recently? In six days I'll be heading to Los Angeles to prepare for the recording of the new album.

I heard you were visiting Japan. Where did you go and what did you do? Gerard: Hahaha, you already answered your own question. I went to a lot of places. Tokyo, Osaka, Kyoto, Miyajima, Hiroshima and many other places. I also stayed at a ryokan across the sea by boat. I went hiking and visited a lot of temples. I had dinner with a geisha… I had so many wonderful experiences.

Were you alone? Or do you have friends in Japan you can rely on? Gerard: I went with my girlfriend. And her younger sister and her boyfriend, who are both artists by the way. My sister's boyfriend is from Kyoto, so he showed me around. If it wasn't for him, I would have been completely lost. So it's thanks to him that I've had such a great experience. Of course, meeting Kazu, the Japanese label manager, was another highlight of the trip. For me he's not just a label manager, he's a good friend. We got some great photos together.

"I feel like when I go to Japan, I come back a better person afterwards."

What did you buy in Japan? Gerard: I bought a lot of straps to put on my mobile phone, hahaha. I also bought a lot of souvenirs for my family and friends. Tea, Godzilla, and Studio Ghibli stuff.

Why Japan? Gerard: Because it's my favourite place in the world. It's beautiful and I like the way people take care of things. I feel like when I go to Japan, I come back a better person afterwards.

Is there anything you've learnt since you've been here? Gerard: Wow, well… I learnt about respect and the importance of thinking about what's good on a larger community level and not just about yourself.

Don't you think more Americans should travel more and see more of the world? Gerard: Everyone should, not just Americans. It's the only way to learn about the world.

I heard a rumour that you bought a CD of the Don Quixote theme song while you were in Japan. Gerard: Yeah, I liked it so much that Kazu helped me find the CD and buy it. I'm sure Matt Cortez, our guitar tech, will be thrilled when he hears it.

You once said that "I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love" (first album) was about finding yourself, and "Sweet Revenge" was about polishing yourself, so you want to make the next album the ultimate My Chemical Romance album. What exactly do you plan to do to make that happen? Gerard: I think some of the songs on the previous albums have inspired us to grow up and take more risks as a result. For example, "You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison" on "Sweet Revenge" showed us that we could explore new and more diverse areas. It's like a warm-up before a boxing match knockout. Another thing I can say is that the new album will be more colourful. It will definitely have more depth and you'll see that we don't care about the outcome, we're just going to do what we want to do.

What can we expect from the new album? Are you planning any collaborations with anyone? Who will be your producer? Gerard: I'm looking forward to some intense stuff. Also, there will be a lot of wolves. I don't know about collaborations yet, but we're going to have Rob Cavallo as producer. I'm very happy about that. It's a huge honour.

You mentioned that the new album will have more songs based on real-life experiences. What are the themes of the lyrics? Gerard: Death is still a theme in the new album, but this time it's more humorous than before. There's also a lot of references to self-loathing, self-awareness and a lot of longing. I'm using the word "love" for the first time. I can definitely say that this is based on real experiences.

Looking back, what do you think of your work so far? Gerard: I'm very proud of it. At the same time, I feel that I could have done better. Especially my parts. But hey, I'm good at criticising myself.

"I've been sober for the last year and a half, and it's made my life a lot better."

I heard that "Sweet Revenge" was a concept album, and the makeup was based on that concept. Do you think it was good the way it was? Gerard: Of course. It was necessary for us to make an artistic statement and to get the idea across. It was specific to "Sweet Revenge", and we'll do something different next time.

With that album, you guys were accepted by many people, especially the MTV demographic. I think your popularity has exploded, especially over the past year, thanks in part to the elaborate promotional videos you've made. When we spoke at Summer Sonic two years ago, you said that you still had a strong New Jersey underdog mentality, which I remember fondly. Was it a slow and gradual process for you guys to become popular since then? Or was it a sudden, dramatic change? Gerard: Even though we'd been around for quite a while, it was a sudden change. We just couldn't keep up with the fame. I don't think anyone can ever be prepared for fame. And we didn't get along well with celebrities, so we never got over the underdog mentality. Celebrity pretence was never our forte.

How important is the visual aspect? What can we expect to see from you in the future? Gerard: The visual aspect of the album art and the stage is very important. The costumes we've worn in the past, they've just naturally taken shape to suit the stage. That's why I don't wear the old stage clothes for photo shoots these days.

You have been relatively open about your depression and alcoholism. How are things going for you there? You seem to be a lot happier these days. Gerard: I'm doing great. I've been sober for the last year and a half, and it's made my life a lot better.

Finally, I know you're of Italian descent, but what other bloodlines are you mixed with? Gerard: Italian and Scottish, as well as German and Swedish. My name comes from a Catholic saint. That's a very Italian way of giving a name.

Oh, at the end of the day, did I forget to ask you anything else? Gerard: Hahaha~ I think we covered it all. Thanks for today!

Translator's Note: Please do support me via ko-fi! ☕

[jbaileyfansite]

USA Today Interview (2024)

For Jonathan Bailey, one of the biggest perks of starring in a massive franchise is getting your very own Lego figure.

The British actor, who plays the swoony prince Fiyero in “Wicked,” is featured in a 945-piece plastic Emerald City set. Although he has yet to procure the toy metropolis for himself, “Christmas is coming and I hope I’ve been a good boy this year,” Bailey says with a grin.

The impish heartthrob has been using Legos to unwind while on a weekslong promotional tour for the blockbuster movie musical, which tells the origin story of the witches of Oz. “Just last night, I managed to (put together) the Atlantic Ocean in this giant Lego globe that I’m currently building,” he delightedly explains.

The fantasy film caps off a monumental year for Bailey, 36, who earned an Emmy nomination for his devastating work in Showtime miniseries “Fellow Travelers,” and spent the summer in Thailand shooting “Jurassic World: Rebirth” (in theaters July 2, 2025) alongside Scarlett Johansson.

“It’s extraordinary the types of roles I’ve been able to play these last two years,” says Bailey, who broke through to U.S. audiences on Netflix phenom “Bridgerton” in 2020. “I’m pinching myself. If I could have gone back and told my younger self that this would be happening, I’d probably do a flip.”

Jonathan Bailey brings 'boyish charm' to 'Wicked' prince Fiyero

Bailey is no stranger to musical theater: At just 8 years old, he played the pint-sized revolutionary Gavroche in “Les Misérables” on London’s West End. And in 2019, he won an Olivier Award for a gender-swapped revival of Stephen Sondheim’s “Company,” singing the mile-a-minute “Getting Married Today.”

But it was a viral audition tape for the musical “The Last Five Years” that caught the attention of “Wicked” director Jon M. Chu. “It felt like the thing I’ve always loved about musicals, where the song is just an extension of the dialogue. It felt like acting,” Chu recalls. “He just has that X factor. There’s such a boyish charm to him that you’re like, ‘That is Fiyero.’”

Like many, Bailey became obsessed with “Wicked” thanks to its Broadway cast album and 2004 Tony Awards performance with Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth. “The lyrics are so fascinating and witty,” Bailey says. “I remember laughing specifically at Glinda singing how this hat is ‘really, uh, sharp, don’t you think?’ I screamed!”

When the contumacious Fiyero arrives at Shiz University from Winkie Country, he instantly enchants the besotted Glinda (Ariana Grande), but slowly finds himself drawn to the green-skinned Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo). He also freely flirts with both his male and female classmates.

“Fiyero is confident and curious and kind enough to invite anyone to Winkie Country,” Bailey says cheekily. But as a gay actor, he’s grateful for the “years and years of progress” that have allowed him to be the leading man in a big-budget movie like “Wicked.”  

“There's been many Fiyeros before me, and many members of the LGBT community who have fought for times where someone like me could play these parts,” Bailey says. "This story resonates for so many people because it’s about identity and celebrates our similarities. In playing Fiyero, you realize what an ally he is to someone who’s outside of society. People are incredibly unkind to Elphaba, and he uses his charm and privilege” to help her feel accepted. “It’s really lovely.”

The 'Bridgerton' dreamboat heads to 'Jurassic World' next

“There's been many Fiyeros before me, and many members of the LGBT community who have fought for times where someone like me could play these parts,” Bailey says. "This story resonates for so many people because it’s about identity and celebrates our similarities. In playing Fiyero, you realize what an ally he is to someone who’s outside of society. People are incredibly unkind to Elphaba, and he uses his charm and privilege” to help her feel accepted. “It’s really lovely.”

The 'Bridgerton' dreamboat heads to 'Jurassic World' next

Bailey delivers one of the movie’s standout numbers in “Dancing Through Life,” in which Fiyero persuades his schoolmates to join him for a night on the town at the trendy Ozdust Ballroom. The song begins in the Shiz library, where Fiyero swings between ladders, slides across desks, and flips through novels using only his feet. The actor spent seven weeks rehearsing the choreography, much of which takes place on rotating bookshelves.

“It turns out in Fiyero’s boots, it’s not so easy to open books and read ‘War and Peace’ with your toes,” Bailey jokes. “I also started training vocally over Zoom while I was filming ‘Fellow Travelers.’ I would do these scenes with Matt Bomer where I’d be smoking and screaming, and then I’d have to come back and sing somehow.”

Ultimately, making "Wicked" helped Bailey feel more at ease taking on the beloved "Jurassic Park" series, in which he plays a bespectacled paleontologist named Dr. Henry Loomis.

“Dancing and closing books with your toes does not save you from raptors,” Bailey quips. “ ’Wicked’ is its own beautiful beast, but it leans so much on the original imagery of ‘The Wizard of Oz.’ It taught me to blur out the reality of what it means to step into an incredibly iconic story, and just focus on working hard and having a lot of fun."

Bailey teases that he has another musical project “on the horizon.” In the meantime, Fiyero will have a more substantial role in "Wicked: Part Two" (in theaters Nov. 21, 2025), which shot back-to-back with the first movie. He still regrets not taking home the character's black leather boots, created by "genius" costume designer Paul Tazewell.

“I did manage to steal some postcards from the Emerald City,” Bailey says. “Some of those accidentally flew off in the middle of a take and landed in my bag. Other than that, I hope Paul will send me Fiyero’s tight pants one day."

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[armandaughter]

wishing everyone who said to tag my marius hate a very read 'orientalism' by edward said