#Red Carpet View

[redcarpetview]

Koryn Hawthorne Visits TAMRON HALL

GRAMMY®-nominated gospel singer Koryn Hawthorne visits Tamron Hall - she opens up about her mission to move people with her music, her recent engagement, and performs “Look at God” from her new album, On God.

Having carved a lane of her own, Hawthorne provides a refreshing blend of gospel, pop, hip-hop and R&B. Hawthorne is best known for being a finalist in season 8 of NBC's reality TV singing competition The Voice, placing fourth place as a member on Pharrell Williams' team. After finishing in 4th place on The Voice, Hawthorne got signed to RCA Inspiration. Since placing 4th she has been seen as a guest star on WE tv’s Mary Mary, Bounce’s "Saints & Sinners" and OWN’s "GREENLEAF."

Koryn went on to shatter Billboard's Hot Gospel Songs Chart in 2018 claiming the title of longest reign by a female artist, with her infectious #1 smash hit  “Won't He Do It” - garnering RIAA-Certified Gold® recognition. Hawthorne's latest album, ON GOD, was released in February 2024.

To connect with Koryn Hawthorne, please visit:

Website:          https://korynhawthorne.com/

Facebook:        https://www.facebook.com/korynhawthornemusic/

Instagram:       @KorynHawthorne

Twitter:             @KorynHawthorne

[harveyguillensource]

Harvey looked sharp at the Elton John AIDS Foundation's 2025 Oscars viewing party!

He brought back the iconic back cutout he featured in his look at Christian Siriano's NYFW Fall/Winter 2025 show, this time in a custom suit by Jonathan Marc Stein!

[toyastales]

If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water

- LOREN EISELEY

[sophs-style]

Teresa Palmer at the 2024 Elton John AIDS Foundation Academy Awards Viewing Party on Sunday (10th March 2024) in LA.

[disarmluna]

[foxyou-too]

Weaving for Balance – Textile Artworks by Australian Fibre Artist Tammy Kanat

[prlssprfctn]

Imagine in the beginning, before Red Hood's goons figure out that he is a baby, they think he is a single dad of a bunch of kids, instead. And it is not like they are wrong, since he does parent all kids of Crime Alley, but they mean not them. They mean Bats, instead.

No one is sure how old Red Hood is. But they saw a single white streak of the hair once, so he is... old, right? And these Batkids, they always hang around him, whining and asking for something - surely, it is his kids? Right? That gotta be it.

Red Hood: Now, back to- Sorry, I need to take a call. Goons: Sure, sir. Red Hood: What... Oh my god, Red. What do you mean, you don't know how to wash the carpet without- Spoiled brat. Okay, listen to me, you first need to get a really hot water... Goons: That's definitely his son being in troubles.

(It was Tim, who accidentally ruined Alfred's favourite carpet. He was in big troubles that day.)

Robin, appearing on the doorstep of Red Hood's den: Scram. I am here to see Hood. Goons, staring at little Damian: Hm-m. Red Hood, pushing them away: Bad day? (Damian wordlessly raising his arms to be picked up by Jason) Okay. It is fine. Goons: Hm-m-M.

Nightwing, whining: You are so boring. Why don't you want to play Twister with us this Sunday? Red Hood, rolling his eyes: Shut up. Goons, overhearing the conversation: Kids, am I right? Red Hood: Huh?

Goons, watching Batman and Red Hood shouting on each other on the rooftop: Hey, do we think Batman is also his kid?.. Goons: (thoughtful pause) Red Hood, completely pissed off by his dad in the meanwhile: I am TIRED of you. Go back to your stupid ass CAVE and think about your behaviour. I don't want to see you AGAIN. Batman: But- Red Hood: OUT OF MY TURF. NOW!!! Goons, staring at Batman, who walks away sulkily: ...HM-M.

Red Hood, staring at the "Best Dad" merch, given him by his goons on his birthday: I am confused. Do they mean kids from Alley, or they view themselves as my kids... What does it mean? Uh. Whatever. It is kinda sweet. Red Hood, on the next day: Thanks, guys. Very thoughtful of you! Goons, high-fiving each other: Sure, boss!

[ham1lton]

NOT A CHILL GIRL.

pairings: lewis hamilton x chronically online fiancée!yn

faceclaim: jordana brewster

summary: chronically online, funniest on the grid, and the proud owner of a face card that never declines—at least, according to yourself. your fiancé might raise an eyebrow at the first claim, the world might debate the second, but no one’s arguing with the third.

warnings: just jokes. don’t take any of this seriously.

author’s note: hope u enjoy bunny anon! :D

— small smau spinoff !

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by lewishamilton, yourinstagram and 187,938 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: celebrity stylist, and fiancée of f1 legend lewis hamilton, yn yln took to instagram stories to share some concerning posts. what do we think about these captions, ham1ltons?

view all 23,837 comments

yourinstagram MAMA I MADE IT

— user1 yn you have dressed some of the top celebrities and this is what you’re excited over??

— user2 forget that. she’s fucking LEWIS HAMILTON!!! and this is what she’s excited over???

user3 this is a v tame post for yn LMFAO

— user4 like she’s posted worse 😭

user5 she’s so unserious i’m obsessed

— user6 my fav wag

user7 i love the fact she’s dressing zendaya, showing up to her hot fiancé’s races and still finds time to shitpost

— user8 she’s so me

user9 she should be embarrassed. she’s grown

— user10 she will never see this btw

user11 i need to know lewis’ thoughts on these posts

user12 she’s the moment. i want to be her so bad.

— user13 successful in her own right AND secured the bag. #needtoBEthat

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

INSTAGRAM LIVE

yn i’m using lewis’ ninja creami to make slushies and sydney isn’t picking up her phone because she’s on set. so entertain me, my little gladiators.

user1 what flavour slushie are you making and why is it pure tequila

yn no. it’s a margarita mix. mostly anyways. all about balance babes.

user2 worst red carpet outfit request you’ve ever gotten?

yn girl some actor asked me to dress him up in head to toe camo… i wanted to be sick.

user3 yn, when’s the wedding? lewis is literally ready to propose again.

yn not until jungkook confirms he’s off the market. i need to know i’m not leaving options on the table.

user4 did you see lando’s post underneath your birthday post to lewis.

yn i did and i’m angry. how dare he be funnier than me on my own shitpost.

user5 who’s better at gift-giving, you or lewis?

yn me. obviously. lewis once got me a pen because “it looked sleek.” it was a nice pen, but still a pen.

user6 yn, if you could style anyone in history, who would it be?

yn harry styles but in 2012. imagine the chaos if he let me near those blazers.

user7 how did you guys meet?

yn via a mutual friend at a party. i thought his choice of shoes was disastrous and he thought i was funny. so obviously i went home with him that night. then i fell in love or whatever.

user8 you are literally the blueprint for chaotic but lovable. never change.

yn never will, little gladiator. never will.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by yourinstagram, thirstystan1 and 1,098,125 others.

lewishamilton: sunday best, thank you theststyle

view all 19,827 comments

yourinstagram why won’t this damn app swipe RIGHT?!?!?

— lewishamilton wrong app sweetheart

— yourinstagram oh shit 😓 can you show me how to download the right one? ever since ashley madison shut down and farmersonly.com banned me for “unsolicited flirting,” it’s been tough out here.

— lewishamilton maybe try clownsonly.com—heard they’re taking new members.

— yourinstagram wow. this from the guy who once googled “how to impress a bad bitch” and got caught.

— lewishamilton a bad bitch was impressed, wasn’t she? checkmate.

— yourinstagram yeah, well, don’t get used to it. also, happy valentine’s, loser. 💖

— lewishamilton happy valentine’s, clown. ❤️

— user1 y’all are some weirdos 😭🩷

user2 YN GIVE HIM TO MEEEEEE

user3 #NEEDTHAT

— yourinstagram #TOOBAD

— user3 YN PLEASE 😭😭😭😭😭😭

user4 need this relationship NOW

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @aliciaablueprint @theblueblub @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @landososcar @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @sainzluvrr @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr @tetetoni @ssprayberrythings @heavy-vettel @tashisgf @daniskywalkersolo @c-losur3 @lestappenslover @linoscrly (see yourself tagged when you don’t wanna be? or you want to be and don’t see yourself? send me an ask!)

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

[er1nne]

the interview with drew goes viral (cont.) part one

(do not copy or plagarize, original work)

Your phone buzzed incessantly on the coffee table, notifications pouring in like a tidal wave. You had been trying to ignore them, focusing instead on the lukewarm coffee sitting untouched next to your laptop. But every time your gaze strayed to the screen, that unmistakable thumbnail glared back at you: Drew Starkey’s Red Carpet Interview Goes Viral.

You reached for your phone hesitantly, chewing on your bottom lip as your thumb hovered over the video. It wasn’t like you hadn’t already seen it—you’d watched it at least five times since it went live just hours ago. And yet, the views were climbing at an almost alarming rate.

1.8M views. 2.3M views. 2.9M views.

Your stomach flipped as you opened the video again. The screen flickered to life, and there you were, standing under the bright lights of the red carpet, microphone in hand, smiling up at Drew Starkey like you’d just won the lottery.

“Drew,” your recorded voice greeted, a bit too bright, a bit too eager. “Welcome. How does it feel to be here tonight?”

The video cut to Drew, his piercing blue eyes and easy smile capturing the camera—and apparently, millions of viewers. “It feels surreal,” he said in his calm, measured tone. “Like stepping into a moment that’s bigger than me.”

Bigger than him? The comment section certainly didn’t think so.

You reluctantly scrolled down, unable to stop yourself from diving into the chaos:

• “THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER. HELLO?!” • “Girl, you’re me. I’m you. We’re all the same.” • “Drew Starkey calling this interviewer good at her job and smiling like that??? ” • “Her laugh at the end!! She’s so flustered but trying to keep it together.”

You groaned, burying your face in your free hand. “Flustered” didn’t even begin to cover it. Watching the interview now, with the clarity of hindsight, made you cringe in the most infuriatingly embarrassing way. You hadn’t just been professional—you’d been fangirling.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love your job—you did. Interviewing actors and being part of the glittering world of film was your dream. But there was something about Drew Starkey that had completely unraveled you. Maybe it was the way he spoke, thoughtful and deliberate. Or the way his eyes lingered, like he was seeing past the bright lights and chaos to something more grounded. Or maybe it was the way his hand had brushed against your elbow when he leaned in, sending a shiver down your spine that you still couldn’t quite shake.

You glanced back at the video, biting your lip as the final moments replayed.

“By the way,” Drew said, his voice quieter now, leaning in just slightly, “you’re good at this.”

Your recorded laugh was a little too soft, a little too nervous. “Well, thank you,” you’d replied, the words nearly catching in your throat.

The camera lingered on him as he walked away, and you swore you could see him glance back at you, just for a moment.

You closed the video, tossing your phone onto the couch beside you. “It’s just a clip,” you muttered, trying to convince yourself. “People are overreacting.”

But even as you said it, another notification popped up on your laptop, this time from Instagram. You opened the app, scrolling aimlessly through the flurry of tagged posts and stories from the event. And then you saw it.

Drew Starkey had liked the video.

He liked the video.

Your breath caught, your heart leaping into your throat as you stared at the tiny heart icon next to his name. He hadn’t commented, hadn’t reached out—but that single like was enough to set your nerves alight.

You picked up your phone again, scrolling back through the comments on the video. People were analyzing everything—your body language, the way you laughed, the way Drew looked at you like you were the only person on that carpet.

• “No, but seriously, he’s into her, right? RIGHT?!” • “I’m not saying they have chemistry, but they have CHEMISTRY.” • “Lord when is it my turn.”

You exhaled sharply, setting your phone down with more force than necessary. Your thoughts raced as you paced the small living room, the memory of Drew’s gaze replaying in your mind like a broken record. Was it all in your head? The playful teasing, the subtle almost-touches, the way his smile had softened just before he walked away?

It was his job to charm people. He did this all the time. And yet…

You couldn’t ignore the warmth in his eyes when he’d said, “You’re good at this,” or the way his hand had lingered just a second too long when it brushed against yours. It hadn’t felt like part of the act—it had felt real.

And now the whole world had noticed, too.

You sat back on the couch, groaning softly as you buried your face in your hands. “What am I supposed to do with this?” you muttered, though no one was there to answer.

Your phone buzzed again, another wave of comments flooding in. This was going to be a long week.

[redcarpetview]

Jason Crabb Set to Join Voices With Jay Demarcus and Jason Scheff to Perform National Anthem Sunday, August 6th

Jay Demarcus, Jason Crabb and Jason Scheff. Media image.

Jason Crabb is set to join voices with Jay DeMarcus and Jason Scheff to sing the National Anthem for “The Big Machine Music City Grand Prix NTT INDYCAR Series” race on Sunday, August 6th with a start time of 11:30am CST.  

Jason, Jay and Jason will perform the National Anthem LIVE at 11:11am CST prior to the race. The National Anthem and race will be broadcast on NBC.

One of Gospel and Christian music's most iconic voices, Kentucky-born Jason Crabb has been honored with two GRAMMY® Awards and 22 GMA Dove Awards, the latter including nods for Artist, Male Vocalist, and Song of the Year. He is the youngest member inducted into the Kentucky Music Hall of Fame, and his hometown of Beaver Dam, Kentucky has paid tribute with a street in his name.

Since his first solo release in 2009, he has performed on many of the world's most prestigious stages such as Carnegie Hall, the Grand Ole Opry, the Brooklyn Tabernacle, and Billy Graham's final crusade. Crabb's electrifying stage presence, powerhouse vocals and magnetic personality have endeared him to millions across the world through extensive personal appearances, media coverage, and social media including over 20 million views on YouTube.

Following a wildly successful music career as the bassist, pianist, harmony vocalist, songwriter and producer of superstar vocal group Rascal Flatts, Jay DeMarcus brought his unparalleled experience to the industry, launching his rising record label, Red Street Records in 2018. After 17 #1 hits, over 33m albums sold and more than 40 trophies earned from the ACA, ACM, AMA, CMA, People's Choice and more, the GRAMMY-winning producer has opened the door for Christian and County acts alike to thrive under his expertise.

DeMarcus has worked with such acts as the legendary band Chicago, Ronnie Dunn, Kix Brooks, Shenandoah and Reba. He was also honored in 2020 for his work producing Jason Crabb's album Unexpected which was named "Best Roots Gospel Album” by The Recording Academy.

Singer, songwriter and bassist Jason Scheff is most known as the bassist and lead vocalist for the band Chicago, one of the longest-running and best-selling music groups of all time, for over 30 years. After leaving Chicago in 2016, Scheff participated as a judge for American Super Group and has now joined Jay DeMarcus in the group Generation Radio.

Sunday's activities will also include the popular Stadium SUPER Trucks, GT America, the GR Cup on track, and a post-race concert with fan favorite Tim Dugger immediately after the INDYCAR race.

The Big Machine Music City Grand Prix, an action-packed three-day motorsports festival weekend, features the NTT INDYCAR SERIES, along with INDY NXT, GT America, GR Cup, the Big Machine Spiked Cooler Trans Am TA2 Series, and Stadium SUPER Trucks along with some of the biggest names in entertainment. 

Tickets are still available for Sunday at www.musiccitygp.com/tickets, by calling (615) 270-8705 or via email at tickets@musiccitygp.com.

Tickets for the Big Machine Music City Grand Prix are digital, and all fans must adhere to the Nissan Stadium rules and regulations, including the clear bag policy.  For a complete list of FAQs on ticketing and race weekend policies, please visit www.musiccitygp.com.

# # #

[phantomrose96]

God's Favorite

Lucy wakes to the soft tapping of rain against her window, and she is God’s favorite. She knows this in the absent sound of her alarm, and she knows this in the yawning rumbles of thunder, and she knows this before she touches her phone alight to the notification screen.

8:43 am. Far from the 4:30 am alarm she’d needed to heed to make it to her flight. Her screen is awash with airline notifications.

She scrambles from bed. Her urgency is an apology. Lucy skips the shower and skips the hair washing and paints on deodorant before stowing it back in her carryon and calling her uber.

“Crazy weather,” her driver with the big mustache remarks. His windshield wipers swish through a river of rain.

“Yeah,” Lucy answers. She glances at her rumbling phone. She glances at the rumbling clouds. The road is clear. It shouldn’t be, not this route and not at this hour. A gas main broke somewhere up the highway that feeds this street. A freak accident. 2 injuries. It’s kept this road clear for just the locals since it happened. Lucy encounters no traffic enroute to the airport.

There are pockets of planes grounded across the runways, barely visible behind the sheets of downpour. They look like herding animals, herbivores, standing stock-still in brace against the weather. Lucy stares at them only a moment while the driver pulls her carryon out of the trunk. She grabs her jacket closed against the wind, and grabs her carryon handle, and thanks her driver. The rain does not reach her here, though the wind does.

Inside Lucy drags her bag past the help desks swarming with the orderly filings of people in disarray. Parents leaning too hard on help counters with kids pulling on bag handles. Hurried conversations and requests and arguments. The electronic boards are awash with deeply red DELAYED and CANCELED. The airport is choking. Lucy, who God loves, glides through security unimpeded.

At gate-side, Lucy finally looks to the large red board of DELAYED and CANCELED etchings to confirm what she knew without even checking her phone notifications. Gate A14. Her carryon wheels pitter and patter across tile as she walks, striding quickly, with apology.

When Gate A14 comes into view it is smothered with the weight of two or possibly three flights worth of people. There are people asleep clutching backpacks and curled on the floor. There is a four-year-old girl with her face buried in an iPad and a mother having a phone call whose clipped urgency infects Lucy. There is a man leaning over the counter to talk to the gate agent, and his hands pulse with each tensing of his fingers. “…to the hospital before she…” Lucy makes out, or thinks she makes out. She doesn’t hear the gate agent’s response, but she can read the defeated shake of her head.

Lucy’s carryon wheels clunk where the smooth tile of the terminal shifts to carpeting. She doesn’t think to grab a seat because there are no open seats. So she positions herself in a way to unmistakably say she is at the gate, threading between stagnant suitcases and kids splayed on the floor. Lucy approaches the rain-splattered windows, and like a conversation shy upon being overheard, the thunder recedes from her advance. The rain draws to a polite close. The clouds split along a seam and pull away, as if they were only ever a wave that had transiently crashed to shore. The sky is beautifully blue.

There is a stirring hopefulness in the air. Other passengers have pushed past Lucy to stand closer to the window and peer outside, as if their confirmation of the changing weather can convince the airline of what to do next.

The gate agent puts down the phone receiver of a one-sided call. She pulls the microphone close and with grainy clarity she announces, “Boarding for Flight A1874 to Detroit will begin in 10 minutes.”

On the walkway, through the gap between the throughway and plane, Lucy sees the puddles rising with steam. They throw the iridescent spectrum of a rainbow up into the sky.

In a backlog of hundreds of flights, Lucy’s is the first out across the runway. This is because God loves her. She only wishes It loved her in a way to fix her broken phone alarm.

…

In childhood Lucy had heard “God loves you” and “Jesus loves you” in the placative ways that Sunday School teaches its children. With jingles and crayon-drawings of sheep and shepherds and a decorated ornament, crafted each Christmas Eve.

Lucy had long since fallen out of it and had thought very little of her parents’ tepid god for the last 10 or 15 years.

It was last spring, 27-years-old, that Lucy had found her way out into the marsh. Mud sucking her boots and gnats plicking in swarm against her skin. Where she sat her tailbone in the muck and folded her arms over her knees and buried her face in her legs to cry. And cry. And cry. And there with the mugginess sopping her skin and the humidity coiling her hair, God decided It loved her.

It loved her with a parting of canopy for the robin-blue sky. It loved her with the chirp of cicadas. It loved her in the way a dog circles its owner and nudges a wet snout to palm, because It was here, and It would make her feel better.

Lucy’s seat is the window seat beside the man with the tensing fingers. He fiddles with a phone in his clutch until he locks it in airplane mode and stows it, to look at no more. Lucy wonders who this man knows in the hospital, and she wonders why God doesn’t love him more than It loves her.

…

In March, Marco breaks up with her over a plate of fish that is too dry. In the moment, Lucy wonders if it’s her fault, because of the fish. But that’s not it. The signs were there, in all the subtle and stuttering moments Marco had pulled away. Each little moment like a slightly missed step, on a staircase growing ricketier each month.

Marco leaves and everything is so quiet, to the point that Lucy thinks her own sounds are pretty stupid, and pretty embarrassing while she’s coiled snail-like and snottily-sobbing into her pillowcase. She thinks absently of how she has to wash the pillowcase now, and that’s fine, because she was going to wash her linens this weekend anyway. She sobs so hard she’s almost screaming. Oh, and kitchen towels. She’ll wash the kitchen towels too.

She’s alive enough the next morning to throw all her linens and her kitchen towels on the floor of the laundry room. And maybe Marco breaking up with her is fine, because his birthday is December 25th and who wants a husband whose birthday is the same day as Christmas?

Her doorbell rings. And somehow it’s Marco again. She opens it to him, and he smells like a wildfire.

“Sorry, Lucy, this is awkward,” and Lucy believes he means it. He’s clutching a jacket around himself for what looks like security more than warmth. His apartment burned down last night. A resident fell asleep with a cigarette lit and dangling from her fingertips. Unit right below him. All his stuff burned, or filled with smoke, or is now logged up with water. He’s been sitting outside on the cobblestone for the last few hours, watching the blaze, on the phone with insurance. His landlord hasn’t responded to him yet. He’s cold, and he’s smokey, and can he shower here maybe? Can he stay for just a day or two, maybe? Sorry. This is awkward. He has no family on this coast. He really has nowhere else to go.

“Sure.” Lucy lets in Marco who smells like a wildfire. She adds the towels to her laundry list because they will smell like a wildfire too once Marco has used them. When he is clean, Lucy asks him nice questions. He asks her nice questions back. She helps him figure out something strange on the insurance form. He starts cooking dinner before Lucy realizes he’d entered the kitchen, because she was busy with the linens and the towels.

Marco takes the couch and clean linens. “Thanks, again, really. I can pay you a few days rent, when I get the insurance payout.” It’s no problem. Lucy goes to her room and shuts the door. It’s warmer here with Marco again. She wonders how long he’ll stay. She wonders if it will be for as long as she thinks the sound of him breathing in the other room is a comfort.

Something twists in Lucy’s chest. She wonders why God loves her more than It loves Marco. Lucy wonders why God didn’t love the woman with the lit cigarette who did not make it out of the building.

…

In June Lucy is desperately throwing together the haphazard makings of a financial report. She meant to stay up late to finish it, and get up early to make it beautiful, but she’s had a cold for a whole week now and the new bottle of decongestant she grabbed wasn’t “non-drowsy” like she thought.

Her heart is beating, and she nearly twists her ankle with a misstep in high heels, and she almost loses her grip on the shoddy makings of a too-light financial report still warm from the printer. She can spin it, maybe, that it’s intentionally light and she’d simply wanted the esteemed and respected input from the executives in the room before she produces the truly polished report this evening. And when the eyebrows are raised and she is told the report is due now, maybe they will refrain from firing her on the spot since she is still the only one who can produce the report they need.

She pulls open the meeting room door as if she is not out of breath, as if her nose isn’t red from a thousand tissues. She takes her seat so hastily that she does not notice, until she looks up properly, and sees the CEO’s seat is empty.

No one speaks. No one acknowledges her entrance. Lucy hugs the warm binder to her chest.

The door latch clicks open, but Lucy knows it will not be the CEO. She heard the click of heels before the doorknob turned.

It’s his assistant with the lovely auburn hair that curls around her shoulders. Her suit is red and her eyes are red and she stands just behind the CEO’s chair. Everyone notices her in the way they did not notice Lucy.

She speaks. The CEO’s wife and daughter were in a head-on collision with a drunk driver 42 minutes ago. They’re in critical condition, and the CEO has gone to be with them. He asks everyone’s forgiveness and grace in this time. The meeting is rescheduled for tomorrow, same time, and he humbly requests if everyone in attendance can adjust their calendar to accommodate this. This is a big ask, he knows. The board will have questions, he knows. But these are extenuating circumstances. The assistant will help with any necessary reworking of everyone’s calendars. And Lucy, can you please deliver the report tomorrow? The assistant has a sympathy card, which she lays on the table along with a black pen, and she asks if anyone would care to sign it.

Lucy signs it. The card paper is so cold, compared to the warmth of the half-finished report squeezed tight against her chest. The half-finished report should have cooled by now, but God must know she’s cold and ashen-faced, and God loves her so much.

…

In July, Lucy is a perfectionist. Her mother swears she wasn’t always like this. Her high school best friend is surprised, when in town for a weekend and meeting up for coffee, by the way Lucy triple-confirms the time, and the place, and the way she wears two watches. Why two watches? he asks. Because the alarm on one watch might fail. What about your phone? The watches are the backup, if the phone dies.

There’s something off-putting in the way she talks, and the way she asks questions of him, and the way she exclaims in joy at every piece of good news he shares. Josiah glances behind himself, more and more, and it’s because Lucy stares back there like she knows someone else at the next table.

It’s all weird, and Josiah can’t help but pull away. But Lucy pulls away first, retroactively. She can always pull away retroactively, and declare to her four walls of her room how much she didn’t need that friend, like she doesn’t need Marco, or anyone else who God may drop at her doorstep like the dead bird bounty of a cat, happy to share with the person It loves.

Lucy finishes her reports early. She wiles away the sun at her office even in the summer finishing reports far before anyone could need them. She double-checks, every time. She triple-checks. Her boss pulls her into a meeting room and with hands folded on the desk, he asks if maybe she needs to take some time off. And instantly she declares to the four walls that no-one at the company is doing this to her. “I wasn’t implying that…” but she’s not looking at him when he answers.

In July Lucy returns to the marsh. She returns with stones she’s horded up and gathered in the trunk of her car. She walks through the boot-suckling mud and she weighs stones in her arms while she hurls them, and throws, and screams, and hopes one of them might strike God in Its snout.

“I HATE YOU!” she screams. She throws all her weight into a stone whose sharp edge nicks bark. She hurls one through the bushes and another into the leafy canopy above. She is sopping wet and the cicadas chirp at her. “I HATE YOU!! GO AWAY!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!” She chucks a stone which lands in the sucking muck, capsizing like a ship beneath the algae.

She throws, and her gravity heaves forward, and her boots stay stuck in the mud. So she topples elbow-deep in the mud, spattered, soaking into her chin and her shirt and her jeans and her hair. She parts her lips and tastes the earthy wetness on her skin, coppery blood, split lip. The stones are all under her. She laughs. Lucy tilts her head to the sky screaming with laughter. Joyous to tears, with the wetness drawing rivulets down the mud on her cheeks. She laughs because sopping-in-mud-and-muck is NOT the state of something God loves. This wouldn’t happen to something God loves.

Lucy goes home. Lucy showers. Lucy does her laundry. And It crawls back into bed with her. Perhaps like a scolded animal, but perhaps It did not even know It was being scolded. Lucy cannot tell.

The wine stains came out of her linens today because God loves her.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Dating in a Dream - Vil Schoenheit

SUMMARY: What would his dream be like, exactly the same as in the original story, but with the small detail that he is dreaming that you two are dating?

CHARACTERS: Vil Schoenheit x Reader 👑🦐

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; In a Relationship (kinda); Kiss

WARNING: Spoilers from Book 7, Vil’s dream and Vil's Red Carpet Cadets (Eng Server)

WORD COUNT: 6.460 words (I may or may not have been overly... inspired)

COMMENTS: This was written as a companion piece to the original dream story, so the parts that are the same as the game are just summarized.

I hope you enjoy 👑

Dating in a Dream: Idia / Epel / Rook / (Vil) / Kalim / Jamil / ...

“Aether signal tracking successful.” Ortho says when you land in the new dream, along with Grim, Silver, Sebek, Epel and Rook. “We have arrived at the designated coordinates.”

After Silver checks if Rook is feeling okay after the trip from one dream to another, and he said that not only was he great but he was also able to enjoy the view, you all realize you're not in Night Raven College, or even anywhere on Sage's Island. Where were you?

Rook recognizes the entrance arch that says ‘Queen's Film Studios’. Acording to him, you were in Maquillaville, in the Shaftlands. And if you know anyone with ties to this place... That person just emerged from inside the studio to be met with a huge group of screaming fans at the entrance.

You see Vil in new clothes, a hat and sunglasses signing autographs and taking pictures with fans. You also see the dreamer's silver bird around his head. But shortly afterward he excused himself and returned to the studios.

“He really is... THE FAIREST ONE OF ALL!” the fans scream.

“I KNOW!” Rook joins them. “Even the most sparkling gems lose their luster compared to his beauty.”

After that, while everyone is talking about that dream and how it doesn't seem much different from Vil's real life, Grim decides to enter the studio premises and follow him to find out more. You all follow Grim because it’s better to stay together and also not to stray too far from the dreamer.

You lost track of Grim and the studio premises were so big that you couldn't find him or Vil anywhere.

“Hey, you. Why didn't you bring a parasol?” You hear Vil's familiar voice and tone complaining.

It was coming from inside one of the studios so you follow it. You find Grim, also spying on what was going on inside. When Sebek starts to speak, Grim jumps up to cover his mouth with his paw and tell him not to talk so loud. You all peek inside the studio.

“I'm fairly certain I told you to always bring a parasol whenever I spend more than five minutes outdoors, did I not?” Vil was telling someone you couldn't tell who it was.

“Ah, I'm sorry. I forgot it in the car.” The other person responds clearly regretfully.

“Unbelievable. What kind of assistant are you? And there's more...”

Vil keeps complaining to his assistant about finding trash on the floor of his dressing room and fingerprints on the mirror. Despite the assistant's apologies Vil calls him a "Useless boy!" before telling him to go get cleaning equipment to get that floor and mirror sparkling. The assistant complies with the order and runs out of the studio, where ends up bumping into Rook. And this is when you discover that the assistant was none other than Neige LeBlanche.

“Excuse me.” Vil comes to see what's going on. “Why are you making a racket in... Huh?! Who are you people?!”

You come closer to tell him that you are just students.

“(Y/N)?!” Vil recognizes you, but he's more shocked to see you there than to come face to face with a bunch of supposed strangers. “Students? What are you doing with students? And what are they doing inside the studio? I hadn't heard there were any tours scheduled.”

“Take a closer look, Vil!” Grim says. “See anyone else familiar?”

“Oh, ick! what's this filthy stray cat doing here?”

“Mrah?! Stray cat?! You recognize my hench-human but you don't recognize me?!”

“Hench-human? Are you referring to (Y/N)? Who do you think you are to address them that way? Actually, who do you think you are to address them at all? (Y/N), come here.”

You walk over to him, mainly because maybe if you follow what he says you can find out more about what's going on in his dream. When you get close enough he takes your hand to gently pull you to his side, but slightly behind him.

“Stop being insulting and talking nonsense...” He keeps talking to Grim. “Hey! Keep your dirty paws off me. You'll get fur on my clothes. Shoo! Shoo!”

“Vil!” You say, shocked at the way he is treating Grim. “What are you saying? Why are you treating him like this?”

Vil turns to you and whispers just to you: “You can't simply walk around hanging out with just anyone. Firstly because you don't know these people, and secondly because your standards should be much higher. You can't be so naive and let your guard down so easily. What were you thinking?” He turns back to the group. “I suppose there ARE troublesome fans out there who can't distinguish fantasy from reality. For that matter, how long have you been eavesdropping on me?”

“Since you started yelling at your assistant for not bringing you a parasol.” Silver simply admits.

“So the entire time, is what you're telling me? Ugh, unbelievable. Aha, I think I get it now - you're all paparazzi disguised as students. You're probably looking to besmirch my beautiful reputation. And you even have the audacity to deceive and take advantage of (Y/N)'s kindness. Well, you'll be doing no such thing.”

Vil glared at Neige.

“You! This is yet another result of you failing to have your act together as my assistant. What will you do if my carefully cultivated reputation gets dragged through the mud?! Or worse, what if something happens to (Y/N)?!”

“I... I'm terribly sorry, sir!”

“Vil! They are my friends!” You say quickly. “Grim has always been with me. How come you only remember me?”

“Grim? Are you talking about that stray... whait... Grim...? And you...?”

The bond between the two of you is so strong that even Vil's imagination is having trouble explaining how you and Grim wouldn't know each other. And his head starts to hurt.

“You don’t think that Paparazzi would use mind control on someone if one of them was a mage, do you, Vil?” Neige says, but in a somewhat strange way. “And surely the stone in the kitten's bow is just a harmless pendant... or is it?”

Vil’s head stops hurting and he pauses for a second, in complete shock.

“Eject these mosquitos from the premises at once, and contact security immediately!”

“Yes, sir! Right away, sir!”

“As for you people” He turns to the group. “You'll see what happens if you dare to post online about what you eavesdropped on today. I'll use every means at my disposal to force-feed you all poison apples. And...” Vil's tone became darker, “If you used any kind of spell on (Y/N), I will create a new poison just for you. So deadly that waking from a slumber won't even be an option.”

Neige leads the rest of the group to the exit gate, while Vil puts an arm around you to lead you into the studio. You hear Grim whimper your name.

Vil takes you to his dressing room, a place as luxurious as you could imagine he would dream of. You ask what's going on but he seems to ignore you and cups your face with his hands. His face very close to yours and his gaze searching your eyes.

“Your eyes look normal.” Vil says still analyzing your face. “Did you eat anything they gave you? Open your mouth.”

You look away and gently push Vil away with your arms, saying that he is overreacting and that they didn't do anything to you. Vil sighs.

“Stay here. I'll call a mage doctor. I won't be long.”

With the greatest of casualness, he kisses your forehead and leaves the dressing room, leaving you alone inside. You hear the door latch. Your reflex is to try to open the door and that's how you confirm that he locked you inside. At that moment you start receiving messages on your phone. They’re from Idia.

«Hey, don't try to wake Vil up alone. It's dangerous while the party is separated. Especially since you can’t use magic to protect yourself from the darkness. Try to know what your role is in Vil's dream and act on it. If the darkness doesn't see you as a threat to the stability of the dream, in principle, it will not attack you.»

You tell him what happened and that Vil went to call a mage doctor.

«I see. I'll access the doctor's code and have them say that you're fine, but that your memories of Vil have been affected. That way you can ask him questions to better understand your relationship with him without him suspecting that something is wrong. Btw, be careful with Neige.»

After a minute, Idia sends you a message saying that Vil and the doctor should be on their way. After that you hear footsteps approaching the door and it being unlocked.

After examining you, the doctor said what Idia programmed them to say. When Vil hears the doctor say that your memories with him have been affected, he seems worried for a split second, but then quickly returns to his stoic demeanor. The doctor adds that it is not a serious loss and that he will only need to answer the questions you have for him to start improving and recovering your memory completely. This time, Vil doesn't hide his relief. And to take more blame off you, the doctor said that your memory loss was due to inhaling some potion in a gaseous state, and that you probably haven't even interacted with those people before that.

After the doctor leaves the dressing room and closes the door behind them, Vil takes you to the couch and sits on it with you. He cups your face again to make you look at him.

“What do you remember about me?” he asks with some sadness in both his voice and his beautiful face. “You seem to know who I am at least.”

He takes his hands off your face and you tell him what you remember: that you know who and what he is. Vil Schoenheit, a super famous actor and model.

“Well... yes... that's pretty much what anyone could know about me. This is better than nothing, but is there anything you know about me that you think no one else might knows?”

Since Vil doesn't remember Rook, your chances increase significantly. But what could you say? You already know that in his dream he was never an NRC student. Much less the Housewarden of Pomefiore. Your options weren't many, but what about...

“Your father is Erik Venue. But you don't want people to know because you don't want them to think that all your success is just nepotism. You want to achieve things through hard work and by truly deserving them.”

Vil starts by smiling, until he llaughs heartwarmingly, something rare, and maybe for that reason absolutely beautiful. He holds your face still with one hand on one cheek while he kisses the other affectionately.

“It seems that not much was lost.” He says with a genuine smile. “I think I should be the one letting you ask the questions now, shouldn't I?”

Finally! The first thing you ask is what is the relationship between the two of you? After all, how come you were the only one he remembered? Were you two friends?

“Friends? Well, I believe that too.” He gives you a sad smile. “We... are a couple. I am your boyfriend.” He laughs at your surprised reaction. “I know, it's hard to believe that out of everyone I chose you to be my beloved. Many would question that...” He pauses and then becomes serious again. “And that's why our relationship is secret. Your arrival in this world is still recent. You still need time to adjust. I didn't want you to have to deal with fame and media pressure at the same time.”

“So... I really came from another world. That is still the same... as I remember, I mean...” You say, but if he has never been to NRC... “But how did we meet?”

Vil’s gaze becomes even sadder.

“I had been cast as a student at an prestigious arcane academy for a new series. One of the props for the school was a replica of the Fairest Queen's mirror. But there was some mix-up and instead of a fake replica being delivered to the studio, a real one was delivered instead. And in the middle of filming you simply appeared out of that mirror that everyone thought was fake.” He chuckles. “I still remember the commotion.”

So your arrival in Twisted-Wonderland was an unforeseen event during the filming of a new series he was on. You were going to ask what happened next, but someone knocked on the dressing room door. Vil says they can come in and after the door opens you see Neige.

“What do you want?” Vil automatically became ruder when he saw who it was. “If you’re not here to notify me of an emergency then don't waste my time.”

“The... That group of students has already been expelled from the studio premises. And... um... the director is calling for you... to film the next scene...”

Vil sighs and places his fingers on the bridge of his nose for a moment. After thinking for a second he looks at Neige dissatisfied. “I won't leave them in your incompetent care again.” He gets up from the sofa and extends his hand to you. “Come with me.”

You give him your hand and he helps you up gentlemanly, then he offers you his arm so you can intertwine yours with his and the two of you leave the dressing room together. Neige immediately moves out of your way, practically in fear. And you felt bad about it.

“You really can't just not care about him, can you?” Vil says, almost disappointed. He sighs. “I never knew if that was a quality or a defect. Leave him be. He failed his duties. His carelessness put you in danger and made you lose important memories. Know that he is very lucky that I didn't do something worse to him than simply being... stricter than normal.” He was speaking softly despite how angry Neige actually made him, or at least that Neige.

When you arrived at the scene he told you to sit in his chair and if you needed anything you could just ask the staff. You stood there watching the recordings and whatever you asked for, someone from the staff would bring it to you, even if it was the most absurd thing. After all, it was a dream. But you didn't abuse it too much. You couldn't risk waking Vil up yet.

While filming was taking place, you received updates from the others and all the discrepancies and differences between the real world and that dream world. Vil had gotten a lot of lead roles since he was little, instead os the antagonist roles. And Neige wasn’t an actor in this dream world, so he was no competition for Vil. In response you tell them what you discovered about your relationship with Vil. They didn't respond for a long time, so you asked if something had happened. Epel was the one exchanging messages with you.

«Sorry. We were too shocked. I mean surprised. Rook already knew. By the way, he isfwerd»

«Oh, I can't wait to see the two of you together! I know you make an absolutely beautiful couple. I'm going to return the phone to Epel now. Sorry for the interruption.»

«I hope this isn't too uncomfortable for you. Rook is smiling weirdly. Wait! Do you like Vil too? It wouldn't be a big surprise. You would have good taste at least. Wait, what am I saying?! Back to the plan to wake him up!...”

Later that day was the Diamond Movie Awards, where Rook assumed that Vil would win the award for Best Actor. In the real world, Neige was the youngest actor to win this award at age 14. Vil wanted to be him, so he must dream about it. They would infiltrate the awards staff and use the loudspeakers. You would just need to stay safe until then.

“Hi (Y/N).” Someone greets you sweetly. You look up from your phone and find Neige smiling at you, which is then replaced by an expression of guilt. “I'm sorry for what happened. I shouldn't have left you alone. I heard you lost memories of Vil because of this. I'm so sorry... *sniff*”

He was being so sweet that you even felt sorry for him. Especially remembering how Vil treated him. You say everything is fine and that you forgive him. He smiles at you, weakly, and asks if there is anything he can do for you.

“You may call our driver.” Vil says to Neige as he approaches the two of you. “Filming is over. We'll be heading to the Queen's Palace for the Diamond Movie Awards ceremony.”

“Y-yes, sir. Right away.” Neige steps back to make the call.

Vil extends his hand to you for you to take and stand up. He looks you up and down.

“Oh, right, you're still wearing that uniform. Let us change it, shall we?” With a snap of his fingers Vil uses magic to change your uniform into beautiful clothes. A dress if you prefer. This also gives you the makeup you like the most to use and a hairstyle that suits you perfectly. “Much better.” he comments. “Much more suited to your beauty.”

“The driver is now heading to the usual location.” Neige informs you. “We can go now if you want. Oh! (Y/N), those clothes look beautiful on you.”

“Of course they do.” Vil retorts. “I would never allow them to dress in less than the best for them.”

The three of you go to a place away from the main entrance where Vil's fans were all, where a beautiful and luxurious, but relatively discreet car awaits you. The driver is standing outside and opens the door for you and Vil to get in and sit in the back seats. Neige goes to the passenger seat.

“You're looking around like it's the first time you've sat in this car.” Vil chuckles. “You must have forgotten about these trips as well. But I can't say it's a bad thing. That enchanted look of yours always suits you beautifully. Do you still remember what the Diamond Movie Awards are?”

Rook had told you via message what they were. The biggest awards in cinema and how much Vil wanted to win the award for Best Actor. You tell Vil this and he looks pleased.

“I hope you're not nervous. After all, I am the one who is nominated. But remember, our relationship is secret, okay? You will accompany me along with LeBlanche as one of my assistants. And don't worry, after today, you and recovering your lost memories will be my top priority.” he comes close and kisses your forehead. “When we arrive we will have to separate on the red carpet. Follow LeBlanche and we'll meet at the entrance later, understood? And don't talk to strangers!”

If you look at him annoyed because it seems like he's treating you like a child, he'll laugh.

“Call me overprotective if you wish, but I won't allow anyone with bad intentions to even come close to you again.” he says seriously and determined. “At least not until your memory returns and we find a way to protect you against other possible magical threats.”

He looks out the window and realizes that you are arriving. He looks back at you with a tender look.

“You know, even though I don't believe in acts of good luck, you insisted that we have one between us. Do you remember?” He gets a little sad when he sees you reply that you don't. “It's a little cliché too. I learned to appreciate them with you. A good luck kiss. It may not have any power to bring good luck, because I don't need it, but I can not deny that it makes me happy and improves my mood even more, which is reflected in the photos. I understand if you don't feel comfortable doing it, I don't know how amenesia might be affecting you at the moment. But know that nothing would make me happier than receiving a kiss from you today. Even on days when I don't win an award, your kiss always reminds me that I have already received the greatest award of all. Oh, no, not you, I meant...” he looks slightly embarrassed about what he's going to say next. “At least what I believe it to be... True love... But don't worry, I don't need a kiss to know this. However, it's always a nice thing to receive.” he smiles confidently.

You feel the car slowing down. You were arriving. As he reminds you to follow Neige, you decide to give him what he wanted. You interrupt him with a kiss on the lips and feel him smile. When you part you see his amethyst eyes looking at yours smugly.

“I see you haven't forgotten your cheekiness. No one else has the audacity to even interrupt me. Such a lack of manners. We'll have to deal with that later.” However, he was smiling the whole time. He comes closer as if he's going to kiss you again, but instead he speaks with his lips almost touching yours. “You also forgot a rule I have with you. You're only allowed to smudge my makeup after all my work is done. And I still have an award to win.”

He finally pulls his face away from yours to grab a mirror and check his lips. He smiled when he saw that his lipstick was still flawless.

“I don't know if this lipstick has more quality than I thought or if is just you that are very skilled. Let us go with bouth.”

The car stops in front of the entrance to the red carpet.

“Thank you.” he tells you tenderly. “I'll meet you inside, my love.”

Both the driver and Neige got out of the car. The driver to open Vil's door and Neige to open yours. While Vil went out to be photographed and filmed on the red carpet, you went out with Neige on another path to the interior of the Queen's Palace.

As soon as you and Neige arrived inside, you were led directly to your seats. Neige told you to leave the seat between you two empty for Vil. He would want to sit next to you. What he did as soon as he arrived.

The awards ceremony takes place as normal until the time comes to present the award for best actor. Which is, unsurprisingly, announced to Vil. At the podium, where you and Neige were also because you had accompanied Vil, the voice over the speakers begins to describe Vil's acting career, but not the one he was dreaming of having. Rook was describing his real career including the fact that he was only cast for antagonist roles.

“What is the emcee saying? They're getting my career history all wrong! This mean-spirited joke on a happy occasion has gone on long enough. Someone cut that speaker off right now!”

Rook mentions Night Raven College and the movie club and this makes Vil start to remember.

“My filming schedule is tight as it is. How would I have time to go to some boarding school on an island way out in - Hrk! ... My head...! How do I know where it's located, and what kind of school it is...?”

“Because that's where we really met, Vil.” you tell him. “That school, the mirror, none of that was a movie, it was real. And you weren't cast in the role of a student, you were one of the students! And not just any student, you were a housewarden, the...”

“Housewarden of Pomefiore” Rook says in unison with you. “The dorm based upon the Faires Queen's spirit of tenacity! Our own fair queen, our Roi du Poison!”

Rook and Epel reveal themselves, dressed in their Pomefiore uniforms, which makes Vil start to remember them. And his headaches come back.

“Vil, are you all right?!” Neige rush to him. “Hurry, someone call an ambulance! Security, what are you doing?! Eject these intruders immediately!”

All the people in the audience started to turn into black, goopy figures, and Vil was being swept away by a sea of darkness, separating him from you, Rook and Epel. And then, another dark figure suddenly formed.... a copy of you.

“Vil, are you okay, my dear?” That darkness version of you said to him in a soft, loving tone. “Everything is fine. Just focus on me. Focus on us...”

“Here it is...” Neige said to him. “The Best Actor trophy you've always wanted. Look, it's all gold and sparkly... isn't it pretty?”

“Yes... It is... This is what I've always wanted. Proof that I'm the best in the world...”

Meanwhile, the dark figures had reached you and as the others faced them, the shadows prevented Vil from seeing you. No matter how much you or the others shouted, Vil didn't hear you either.

“Heheheh. That's it. Just stay here, and you can be the best in the world forever and ever, all without having to put in any work.” Neige continued. “You won't have to do any rigorous training or follow any tedious skincare routines to maintain your beauty.”

“And I will always be by your side.” Your darkness lookalike added. “To give you all the love you deserve, unconditionally. To be your safe place. The final crucial piece of your perfect happily ever after. Just like in those fairy tales.”

“You... (Y/N)... I never needed to compete for your love... You just... make me so happy... and rested... My... happily ever after...”

“And I will continue to make you feel loved... Just worthy of being loved... Without worrying about being perfect... Now and forever, my fairest one of all... So... Go on, Vil. Just close your eyes... and stay here with me.”

Seeing that Vil is going to let himself sink into the darkness, Rook uses his signature spell, I See You, so he can find Vil later. And Vil disappears, along with the dark versions of you and Neige.

After getting rid of the darkness figures that were attacking you, you all jump into the black goop after Vil.

You ended up on the interior of the Night Raven College coliseum, where you find Neige lying unconscious on the floor, while his friends cry wondering what happened. This was a reenactment of what happened on the day of the SDC, but what would have happened, or what Vil wanted to have happened, if Neige had drunk the poison apple juice he gave him. Epel uses his signature spell, Sleep Kiss, to stabilize Neige before you all run onto the stage.

The title of SDC winners was being awarded to Night Raven College and all the students who participated with Vil were celebrating, Ace, Deuce, Jamil, Kalim, even Epel and Rook. But there was something disturbing about them, their faces were flat and their skin was that black goop.

You and the others run up to him and shout Vil's name to get his attention. Seeing two Rooks and two Epels helped make Vil start to realize that something wasn't right. They remind Vil that they didn't win the SDC, they came second, they lost to Neige and Royal Sword Academy.

The shadowy figures tried to convince Vil to believe in the reality of the dream, that Neige felt unwell and so he and his friends had to withdraw from the competition. But Rook continued, reminding him of what really happened that day, how the plan to poison Neige had failed and how Vil had not been able to forgive himself for even trying to do so.

But perhaps it was this pain that made him realize what true beauty is, and what led him to the events on the Island of Woe. Where he displayed utter beauty beyond any other! And when he proclaimed, “At this exact moment, I am the fairest one of all!”

This is what makes Vil finally remember, break the dream around him and wake up. He thanks you all and hugs Rook and Epel. He looks at you, but just when it seems like he's going to say something to you or even ask you to join the hug, the ground starts to shake and the sky cracking open. You all prepare to evacuate yourselves to the dreamway, but darkness catches Vil. And unfortunately, in order for you to save yourselves, you have to leave Vil behind. Regardless of your attempts to save him.

In the dreamway:

If you, like Rook and Epel, want to go back to the dream to save Vil:

Then you will be one more person for the rest of the group to contain and prevent from going back to that dream until it is safe. “Oh, Trickster, how I understand your aching heart.” Rook says, surprisingly calming down a little. “But now your desire to run into danger to save your loved one puts me in a difficult situation.” “What? What do you mean?” Epel questions. “And why did you suddenly stopped fighting to come back?” “Because now, dear pommette, we both have a dilemma on our hands.” Epel looks confused and Rook continues. “On one hand, we must save our Queen. But on the other... We must protect our Queen's Beloved!” “Well, there are two of us.” Epel says with a smug smile. “One tries to get back there and the other stops (Y/N) from getting back there.” “That seems to define a hypocritical action.” Ortho points it out. Epel recognizes this and becomes frustrated. You'll have to wait until the dream stabilizes again, but the three of you are restless and try to return to the dream every 10 seconds.

If you are calm like the rest of the group despite your worry:

“How can you be so calm!?” Epel questions you, outraged. “It's Vil who's trapped there! I thought you liked him too!” “Epel!” Rook censors him, patiently. “It is not because one is calm that they aren't suffering. None of us deal with desperate situations in the same way. And that must not invalidate others feelings.” “Urg! ... I... I’m sorry, (Y/N)...” Epel says regretfully. You explain to them why you are calm. You know that was the only solution. Just like the Shroud brothers explained, either you left Vil behind and tried to save everyone, or you stayed behind and ran the risk of something happening to one of you and never waking up again. “Besides...” You continue. “Vil is already awake. Don't tell me you think your Fair Queen isn't capable of facing whatever comes her way now?” “A... A....” Rook's eyes start to water. “ABSOLUE BEAUTÉ!” Even Epel gets startled by that shout. “The way you soothe your worries by having faith and trust in him!” He actually starts to cry emotionally. “There are no words to describe the beauty of your love! I should treat you like royalty as well!” Epel agrees with Rook, but starts to feel a little embarrassed by the situation and tries to tell him to calm down.

As soon as you all return to Vil's dream and see him safe and sound in front of the Queen's Palace, Rook and Epel immediately run to hug him.

If you, like Rook and Epel, were so worried about him that you wanted to go back to the dream to save him, you also run to him to hug him.

Rook and Epel move away a little so that the hug is mostly between the two of you and they are hugging you both. The others comment on how difficult it was to keep the three of you away from the dream to save him. Rook tells him how he was torn between returning to the dream or keeping you safe. “I hope you know what I would have told you to do.” Vil says. “To protect (Y/N) at all costs.” Rook answers with certainty. “Even if you have to lose me to do so.” Vil adds, in such a serious way that even Rook is a little surprised. “And you!” he tells you, as if he is upset. “You don't have magical powers, you would be in more danger than me. Never put yourself in that kind of situation, understand!” After a second, he sighs and smiles. “Thank you... to all of you.”

If you were calm in the dreamway:

The others comment on how difficult it was to keep Rook and Epel away from the dream to save him. He laughs at it. “Oh, Vil, I must admit” Rook tells him. “The faith and trust that (Y/N) has in you are simply magnifiques! They remained calm the whole time because they believed you were strong enough to face anything. *sniff* B-beauté...” “Are you going to start crying again?” Epel laughs, as does Vil. Vil saw you standing there looking at them, clearly wanting to join in the hug, but respectfully staying back. After finishing the hug with Rook and Epel, Vil approaches you. “Are you really going to say you weren't worried at all?” He asks with a smirk. Of course you were worried, but you knew it was something he would have to face alone. The best thing you could do was keep yourself and the others safe while he ‘sorted out this problem’. “But I knew you would be strong enough.” You add. “I mean, if even Idia could defeat the darkness...” Vil laughs with you. “A lot of smugness for someone who would be swallowed up by the darkness if it weren't for people who can actually use magic. Whehe-” Idia suddenly notices Vil looking at the tablet he was speaking through in a scary and threatening way. “HICK!” You tell Vil that it's okay, after all, you started it. He smiles at you in response.

“Wait...” Vil says to you, thinking. “I’m just now realizing something. The part of the dream where you were with me after supposedly losing your memory. This was after you all showed up, and you were with the group. So... does that mean...” he widens his eyes. “Was it YOU? The real you? All that time?”

You confirm. If you thought the clothes he gave you didn't already give you away, you look at them and see that you were wearing your school uniform. Your clothes must have gone back to normal when Vil woke up.

“In that case...” Vil regains his composure. “Would you allow me to speak to you alone for a moment?”

“If it's about you and (Y/N) dating in the dream, you don't have to worry, we already have that information.” Ortho says, casually.

Vil's eyebrows rise in surprise for a split of a second, but then he quickly returns to his composure.

“Even so, I would still like to discuss this matter with (Y/N), alone.” He simply put a little more emphasis on the last word, but it was enough to make everyone take a step back. He looks at you. “Since this is a dream, why don't we talk inside the Queen's Palace? If you wish.”

You agree and the two of you walk away from the group to enter the beautiful building. After Vil made sure you were in a place where the others could neither hear nor see you, he stops you and stands in front of you.

“(Y/N)...” he tells you very seriously. "At any moment, did I do or say anything that made you uncomfortable?"

He asks this clearly worried and regretful, but instead of you saying yes or no, you had that expression of someone wondering how to explain the truth. Knowing you, he realized what that hesitation really meant.

“You can tell me whatever you need.” he says with a beautiful, gentle smile, which is relatively rare in him when it’s a true one. “I behaved very... relaxed with you... I owe the same to you now.”

You tell him. You say you didn't feel exactly uncomfortable, on the contrary. In your own way, you tell him what you really felt all that time, and end up confessing that your feelings are mutual.

“But, I mean...” You tell him. “You must be used to people having a crush on you...”

“I am, indeed. But there is a great difference between those fans and you.” Even if you consider yourself a fan of mine like the others, unlike them, you know me for who I truly am. Ugly sides and all. You didn't meet me as the actor and model Vil Schoenheit. You meet me as that bossy and probably superficial Housewarden of Pomefiore.” he smiles smugly, especially seeing your guilty reaction.

“You knew me at my lowest...” he continues. “And stayed. Not only that, but you also went into the depths of S.T.Y.X. with Rook and Epel. Even knowing it wasn't just for me, it was good to see that you were as happy to see me as they were... And...” He is silent for a second, remembering the moment he wanted to talk to you about and you saw a new loving look in his eyes. “... after what I did... after what I became by saving Idia... I remember looking at you and seeing... a look you had never given me before, when I was... when I looked beautiful. That really changed the way you saw me, didn't it? Well, it also changed the way I saw you. My outer beauty doesn't really have as much of an effect on you as my inner beauty, does it?”

Vil gets closer to you and caresses your face.

“What a coincidence, I feel the same way about you.” his hand slides to your chin to tilt your head up and he smirks. “If your outside matched your inside...” He brings his face closer to yours and speaks a little more quietly and seductively. “You would be more stunning than any model I have ever seen... I think I will take this as a personal challenge. I want everyone to be able to see why I fell in love with you.”

His lips were practically touching yours, but he wasn't kissing you. He was teasing you... Tempting you... You decide to do what he wanted and you kiss him. You can feel his lips forming a smile as he reciprocates the intensity of your kiss.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[sophs-style]

Josephine Skriver at the Elton John AIDS Foundation's 32nd Annual Academy Awards Viewing Party on Sunday (10th March 2024) in LA.

[disarmluna]

[slttygeto]

Actors on Actors | Toji Fushiguro

pairing: actor! toji x actress! reader

genre: interview style, slightly suggestive on toji's part

note: ah shit here we go again

📊 Video Stats

10M views | 350K likes | 40K comments

Convincing Toji to do this interview was as hard as his team had expected. 

The man was extremely private, always giving short answers on red carpets but they were more than enough to feed his fans. Coupled with a confident smirk of his and a proud display of the scar on his lip, the man knew he had people swooning for him. 

However, he wasn’t fond of interviews. It was evident in the way he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, a bored look on his face and only answering when the question pertains to his character only. 

Other than that, you couldn’t get a single word out of this man.

When you heard that you were invited to be on an episode of Actors on Actors, you were both excited and nervous. Talking about yourself wasn’t your favorite thing in the world, but you loved getting to know other people in the industry and bonding with them over shared experiences.

What you don’t expect is to read Toji’s name on the paper. 

“Toji?” you turn to your manager with a look of disbelief on your face. “Fushiguro Toji?”

Your manager gives you an apologetic look. She could see the anxiety brewing inside of you, and you have to place a hand over your heart to calm your nerves. 

Talking to that man was the equivalent of talking to a brick wall. There was no way this was going to be a good interview—and who thought of pairing the two of you together?

The tall, broad shouldered man sits in his changing room with the same paper in hand as his eyes land on his name. His makeup artist catches the glimpse of a smirk on his face before Toji turns to his manager.

“That’s the pretty one, right?”

His manager chuckles before placing a hand on Toji’s shoulder. “The one and only.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

The interview is off to an awkward start. At least from your part. 

You feel small under the gaze of such an intimidating man, putting a leg over the other and pulling down the hem of your short dress to hide as much of you as possible. That doesn’t stop Toji’s shameless gawking as the two of you shake hands.

“I’m (Name), nice to meet you.”

“‘course I know who you are,” the words roll of his tongue smoothly and he watches as you purse your lips, dropping your gaze. “Fushiguro Toji”

“Very pleased to meet you.” You finally let go of his hand but you could’ve sworn that his hand lingered on top of yours a bit longer. 

When neither of you decide to speak up first, you let out a nervous chuckle while Toji turns to the filming crew with a playful smirk.

“This is fun,”

“I mean…” you trail off, smoothening the fabric of your dress. Again, his eyes land on your thigh and clear your throat.

“I’m…a really huge fan of your work.” your voice is small as you confess your admiration for his work in the industry. “I’m always amazed by your ability to get into character so quickly.”

“Watched some behind the scene footage?”

You were caught.

“Maybe…I mean it’s there!” You laugh and fortunately for you, Toji does as well as he nods. 

“Sure it is. I could say the same about you—” he gestures towards you with a genuine smile. “Great work, it’s rare to see someone so passionate in the industry nowadays.”

“Oh,” you wave your hands. “It’s-it’s nothing, I just really love acting.”

Toji braces himself forward with his elbows on his knees. “How old were you when you thought of giving it a try?” 

Your back straightens up under his gaze and you avoid his eyes as you think of a response. “I was about 6 or 7 when my parents would pull out a camera during Christmas and record me recreating scenes from movies like The Wizard of Oz and The Shining.”

“The Shining?”

“I was a weird kid,” you laugh when you see the look of shock painting his features. “But yeah these two were my favorite movies of all time.”

“That’s interesting, cause in a way I can see you getting into movies like that at a young age.” 

“Really?” 

Toji really likes the glint in your eyes. 

“Mhm,” he nods as he leans back in his armchair. “Like I said I’ve seen some of your work and–” he raises his hands. “I’m a fan.”

You drop your head shyly, silently thanking him for the amount of compliments he was throwing your way. This was honestly going better than you expected, but you knew it was time to ask him questions. 

“Can I just say,” you gesture towards the man. “Your recent work absolutely blew my mind—I mean, the entire movie was just amazing but your role. Wow, just wow.” 

Toji bows down his head when you clap for him, chuckling when you go the extra mile by pretending to bow down for him. 

“That role, was it difficult to get into such a state of mind? I’ve seen many actors—including myself, who needed a much needed break from everything after a certain role. Was it the same for you or were you able to detach yourself from the role easily?”

Toji gives it a thought, taking in the fact that you had crafted this question so carefully unlike any other interview he’s ever been on before. 

“After we finished shooting, I cut off contact with most of the world for about three months straight. I moved out of my neighborhood and into an area where it was just me, the mountains and the sound of birds.”

 Toji proceeds to explain how the role was mentally taxing, how the idea of going back and doing promo for the movie seemed like a huge roadblock he needed to get over. But after lots of therapy and some much needed time off, he was able to get back on his feet. 

“I’m glad that you feel better now, the industry needs good actors like you.” You admit and Toji leans back in his armchair again with a knowing smirk.

“I could say the same about you.”

The interview proceeds smoothly, with the two of you asking each other questions back and forth. After fifty minutes, the interview comes to an end and you get up to share a well deserved goodbye hug. 

However, Toji’s arms linger a little longer around your waist and he whispers something in your ear that’s facing away from the camera.

“You look good by the way.”

Guys, the mics are still on!

🗨️ Top Comments

💬 [somethingsgottagive]: DID YALL SEE THAT (6k likes)

💬 [somuchtosay]: this entire interview is just toji flirting with her im losing my mind (5k likes)

💬 [onehastogo]: ive never seen him this down bad omg??? (7,3K likes)

💬 [theboyismine]: this is the most talkative ive ever seen toji am i sensing smth (1.8K likes)

💬  [sweetnsourchicken] replied to  [theboyismine]: THAT HUG???

💬 [alltheavocadoes]: THE THING HE WHISPERED???(923 likes)

💬 [albumoftheyear]: oh the internet is on FIRE (508 likes)

💬 [cmontryme]: someone check on me ive shipped them for the longest time (392 likes)

💬  [sweetnsourchicken] replied to  [cmontryme]: without a single interaction is crazy

💬 [cmontryme] replied to [sweetnsourchicken]: i’m crazy

2025 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[no-squ4sh-4-b4by]

Kanye West and Bianca Censori's appearance on the red carpet was something out of a nightmare. If you haven't seen the clip, go look it up.

It starts with them posing, then they face each other and start to talk. Their conversation is not audible, but you can see Bianca shaking her head no and readjusting her large fur coat to cover herself. After three or four words are exchanged, she turns away from the camera and starts taking off her coat slowly. Revealing her naked shoulders, then her back, then her buttocks. She turns around to finally show off the dress she's wearing, a tight, see-through piece of nylon (designed by Kanye himself, according to a post he made on his Instagram) that leaves her breasts, genitals and ass exposed. She's essentially naked. During this whole scene, Kanye is just facing the cameras with sunglasses on, neutral expression on his face.

Now, I'm not shocked by nudity. Censori is definitely not the first celebrity to walk the red carpet wearing a very revealing outfit (and she won't be the last). What disgusts me is the scene they built around the outfit.

First, the little conversation they have. You can clearly see Bianca shaking her head no and tightening her coat around her before being made to undress. There's two possibilities here:

A) Either this wasn't rehearsed, so we essentially witnessed Bianca being pressured into undressing herself in front of dozens of cameras or;

B) It was rehearsed (the most likely option, in my opinion). But then why? Why act out this discomfort before the reveal?

Some could argue they were talking about something totally unrelated, but I very much doubt it. It's their big moment on the red carpet, in front of cameras, it's not the time to talk about the groceries.

What I think is happening is that they (but most likely Kanye) voluntarily chose to paint a scene of a woman being forced to undress herself in front of thousands for the amusement of her husband. It's essentially a brag, a show of force for Kanye. He's saying: "Look at my wife and what she'll do for me. Look what I can make her do. "

The last thing I haven't mentioned, and the scariest, is Censori's facial expression through it all. Neutral expression, no smile. Her eyebrows are trimmed downwards in a way where she looks slightly worried. And her stare is totally vacant. I've seen people say she looks drugged, dissociated, downright "stupid."

I think this is the main difference between Bianca's look and others who have worn skimpy outfits in front of the cameras. Whether it be Lady Gaga, Kendall Jenner, or Madonna, they all share something: confidence. A sultry look, a cheeky smirk, hell, at least a smile! Something to show that they feel desirable, that they're in control. That they choose to show us their bodies.

Whereas Bianca looks dead inside as she's posing.

After standing in front of the cameras for a little while, Kanye takes her hand and leads her away.

The whole sequence (no matter how much Bianca has consented to it) feels like a humiliation ritual. Kayne, standing there fully dressed, pressing his wife to expose her body to the entire world before parading her around. A gross display of chauvinist male domination on the body of a woman. Like, I don't know how else to say it, but it looks like he's walking around with his sex doll, still partially in her plastic wrapping.

Why are we seeing this? What is the point? I can't help but relate this to Elon's n*zi salute. It feels like we're witnessing more and more rich and powerful men pushing the boundaries of what is socially acceptable, trying to see how far they can go. How much of their toxic, repressive views they can share before we come for them.

My heart goes out to Bianca, I hope she's safe and happy in her marriage.