#tobs: about

[not-a-mongoose]

bc i'm obsessed with au ideas imma just start posting about some stuff i've came up with and promptly forgotten bc idk if i'll ever actually say them.

so this one is basically a fantasy au where scar is a vex adventurer who robs explores old/abandoned places and sells the loot, due to his vex heritage and a special charm from cub (also a vex), he is immune to most curses so he doesn't have to worry much about typical mortal curses so long as he doesn't keep cursed items on him for too long, and he can just get a magician to check them before he sells them (most pawnshops have a solid solution for checking for curses because otherwise it would be so easy to get cursed).

One day, he picks up a cursed amulet along with some of his other loot, which has no major negative effects, but the guy at the pawn shop lets him know it's like super magical, enough that they don't wanna hold onto it because it could get their business investigated if someone found it. Scar keeps it around while he figures out how to deal with it, since it could fetch a pretty penny if he can keep it out of sight from the magical guards (who would probably arrest scar on the spot if he got figured out bc he's vex)

anyways scar chills with it for a bit but then he gets haunted by the amulet's cursed resident, Grian! unfortunately this spooky figure has virtually no memory prior to his time in the amulet, so scar has to just deal with this spooky bird ghost in his jewelry.

anyways naturally he gets discovered by the guards and such and he has to get out of there and figure out a way to deal with this situation without prompting an 'international' incident (bc there's a high probability that scar getting arrested as a vex with a spooky evil gem would be a perfect prompt for the army to launch a xenophobic war against vex despite them having nothing to do with it).

[oneminutefiftysixseconds]

just got around to watching the algarve finish and HAH. but seriously everyone involved riders and crowd both were so lucky it wasn't so busy

[dravidious]

Just unlocked this thing in Tales of Berseria. "Allows the use" of martial arte "derivatives" under "certain conditions". Whatever the FUCK that means. I know what it means, and it's no thanks to this awful description, so I'm gonna rant about it and fix it because I'm frustrated at this display of incompetence

First a little fairness. While a martial arte "derivative" is a total nonsense term, it's easy to figure out by looking at the "Set Artes" screen. Each arte has a derivative arte, which is just some other arte from that character's moveset chosen pretty much arbitrarily. The name is awful, as the derivative arte isn't really derived from the arte at all, but it's not a major issue.

More of an issue is "certain conditions". I hate when video games say stuff like "certain condition" or "specific items" and then refuse to actually explain it. The worst part is, there AREN'T any conditions to using arte derivatives, unless you count "knowing the arte" and "having enough SG to use the arte" as conditions. This is confusing, but doesn't really hinder your ability to use arte derivatives.

Another minor problem is that it says "martial artes" but it actually works for hidden artes too. You can figure it out really quick by seeing arte derivatives listed for hidden artes, but the fact that the description is seriously just lying to you is just sloppy.

The core issue: How do you use arte derivatives? The game does not tell you. At all. In any way. You do it by keeping the arte button held down, and then the arte derivative will be used after the current arte. I have no idea how they expected anyone to figure this out without so much as a HINT. Nothing in the description, not in the tutorial menu, absolutely nothing about holding down the arte button.

Here's my rewrite:

"Allows the use of martial and hidden arte successors by keeping the arte button held down.

An arte's successor arte is listed at the bottom-right of the description in the "Set Artes" screen."

You might notice that the first paragraph is longer, but it'll still fit. They had room for more text to explain but they chose not to use it. Anyway a few minor changes; clarifying that it works with hidden artes, and specifying "an arte's successor arte" instead of just "it" in the second paragraph. Then of course TELLING THE PLAYER HOW TO ACTUALLY USE THE DAMN THING!! It's not that hard!

I also changed "derivative" to "successor". An arte is followed by its derivative, so successor is a more fitting name. There could be a better name, successor is just what I came up with after 10 seconds of thinking about what to call them. Because why the fuck would you call them derivatives.

Anyway there's another related potentite called Wizard's Ventite so when I get that I'll reblog this post with a follow-up.

[sinscythe]

berseria ending may have flopped but it cemented rokurou as the funniest character ever

[tethys-the-aquatic-sea-godness]

[dany36]

sigh.

time to finish berseria i think. :(

[cetra]

how the fuck are you a velvet stan when her entire story revolves around being in love with her little brother and finding a replacement for him!!!!! the game literally ends with her stuck in eternity with him!!!!!!! what the hell

HUH...... okay first of all her entire story arc is about coming to terms with her trauma and finally being able to let love & light into her life. also about finally getting revenge on an institution that betrayed her and caused her to become a monster. it's a great arc, she's the best Tales of protagonist and that's why we #stan

Second of all Velvet wasn't in love with her Laphi dawg what game did you play 😭 that was her BROTHER..... dont be weird. and she makes it abundantly clear that the way she sees Phi is as a brother. Yes he starts off as a replacement for Laphi and I recognize that's a weird thing to do but she's not supposed to be a good person, this is a game about a lot of traumatized jerks and Velvet is one of them. Phi definitely had a precocious crush on her but Velvet seems pretty unaware of it from what I understand, she only sees him as a little brother. Although in time she starts to back off from this when Phi expresses that it makes him angry/uncomfortable. iirc that's also around the time you start to see her develop healthier relationships with some of the other members of the Menagerie. her going from treating him as a replacement for Laphi to viewing him as more of a treasured friend (and maybe like.... a kid she babysits let's be real) was very obvious to me so again, idk what game you played

as for the ending 😭 c'mon man. that's not even Laphi she's with, that's Innominat. Velvet recognizes that Laphi is gone forever and the reason why she decides to spend all of eternity with Innominat is because SHE'S THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN CONTAIN HIS POWER. literally the only one. She knows that this is the only way the world can be saved and it's a huge moment for her character bc she previously never viewed this as a world worth saving and now not only does she see that it is, but she also feels she was in part responsible for its ruin so that's why she chooses to sacrifice herself in this way. it's a beautiful and bittersweet ending and your reduction ignores like tens of hours wort of critical character development.

ANYWAYS all that being said please enjoy this beautiful art of Velvet that @lexsnotdead made for me

I suggest you change your ways immediately or just leave me and my favorite fictional woman in peace God bless 🫡🧡

[traviezos]

im glad altrive managed to get like four people banned on roblox for a day for saying the word "fattie" in one stream and about under an hour

[sovonight]

I feel you on thr Xan mod frustration. I remember one time he said something like "I'm glad Irenicus didn't scar your face at least; its un-elven to mar beauty" (non-bonded path)

And like bro, THAT is the silver lining you're trying to take from the whole ordeal? Also went against my headcanon that her face did get scarred, so...

Dumped Xan after that for Haer'dalis. Not even Edwin is that insensitive!

I really just dont understand the mod's popularity. I can't imagine BG1 Xan saying that

oh my god i would hate that lmao

yeah there's this huge shift to him now caring about beauty a lot (among other things). i can see the appeal of the sequel in that there are a lot more interaction options with him, there's more dialogue, there's more events, there's a whole new path, there's more everything, but. his heart is not there 🥲 he's just kind of a shallow jerk

[captainblazkowicz]

🌾An eerie plot of farmland with seemingly no one around for miles //perhaps he stumbles upon their lil farmhouse in the middle of nowhere? 👀

[ Eerie Atmospheric Prompts / Accepting! / @outofthiisworld ]

When BJ emerged from the portal that fuckin' na.zi pig scientist threw him into, he half expected to go to some futuristic place with big honkin' robots instead of people, or little green aliens. Instead, place he went to looked like home. Like Mesquite. Plenty of folks back when he was a boy had acres upon acres of land. Some of 'em tended livestock there, like his father. Others of 'em tilled the land, grew things themselves, sold 'em at them farmer markets they held weekly.

It was, to say the absolute fucking least, bittersweet. Sometimes he missed this America. The one before the war. Before the na.zis. Before he saw the American people he thought he respected peddle eugenics and bigotry. Or maybe that was there the whole time, since he was a kid, and he never done noticed it in nobody but his father till it was too late.

America or not, this land was cultivated. There weren't any trees, no undergrowth, no brush, no nothin'. That meant somebody had made it this way, this flat, thus ready-to-till and farm. But who? Felt like he'd been walking for hours. Maybe it was just a few minutes. He didn't know. What he did know though was that sun was setting, with it the cold was settling in, and he needed a goddamn shirt. When they'd thrown him in that portal, they hadn't given him one. Why the fuck would they? No guns neither. Just his fists, his pants, boots, undergarments. And a rumbling stomach.

After walking ahead indefinitely— not like he had a choice— he eventually saw something. Little light. Was coming out a window. A farmhouse. Somebody had to live in there. BJ practically broke into a sprint— or, he would've if he didn't worry 'bout getting himself shot— but decided to briskly walk instead. Soon as he made it to the door— again, he was pleasantly surprised this place had doors— he knocked.

[cephaloph0re]

i keep stumbling upon yoshimasa terui. i didn't start listening to sora tob sakana because i knew it was him but i was so surprised by my first track of theirs (dazzle) sounding so much like him. fast foward 3 months later and i bother to look at the credits list and whos name do i see?

[not-a-mongoose]

honestly i've decided i like the name toby (as well as austin but it's besides the point) but i used to be into dsmp and i hate the idea of someone thinking i chose the name bc of tubbo. no shade to him but the idea of someone saying that fills me with rage.

[francesderwent]

so for the purposes of this discussion I’m going to assume that we all agree that it’s not a desirable state of affairs to be sexually intimate with a whole bunch of people just for fun. I know not everybody agrees with that *gestures vaguely to the sexual revolution and the hookup culture*, but if I have to prove that first then that’s going to take forever and I don’t think it’s what we’re talking about anyway.

we’re going to assume that our interlocutor believes sex and love do have something to do with each other, and wants to know why we shouldn’t treat sex the way that most television shows these days treat sex: like kissing on the lips. you’re in love with your boyfriend so you kiss him on the lips. and then you might break up, and fall in love again and kiss a new boyfriend on the lips. in certain circumstances you might kiss someone on the lips who isn’t your boyfriend, like if they save your life or you go through a bonding experience together or something. and eventually you get married to someone and you only kiss that guy on the lips from then on, but you have kissed a few other guys before and it’s not a big deal or a scandal at all. why, is the question, can’t we treat sex exactly the same?

so, point one is: because the whole physical world is infused with symbolic meaning, the human body speaks a language of its own. we don’t assign meanings to the “words”, they’re inherent and universal. you can’t twist bodily actions to mean whatever you want them to mean, they’re going to go on saying what they really mean whether you want them to or not. a slap does not mean love; its violence is not and cannot be loving. a kiss does not mean hatred; Judas betraying Jesus with a kiss adds an extra layer of hurt to his deception.

point two: in order to exist happily and healthily in the world, we need to speak the truth with our bodies, and not try to twist the language of the body into saying something it isn’t. when we lie with the body, the whole real world we live in resists us. we’re trying to impose our own meaning by our own will onto something that already has its own meaning, given it by God, and quite frankly, God’s meaning is stronger and it’s gonna win. think of this as living in a state of denial—even if you can stay in your denial for a little while, eventually, reality will have its say, it will make itself felt. more on this later.

point three: sex, as a word in the language of the body, is saying something other than just “I feel love for you”—i.e. it is saying something different than a kiss. how do we know this? first of all, sex causes bonding on a chemical level in a way that kissing absolutely does not! secondly, sex creates children—and therefore exists on a very different level than kissing! both of these differences point to this: kissing as a “word” speaks about love as desire, when it says “I feel love for you” it’s mostly saying “I want you”. sex as a word speaks something more, it says something in itself about a commitment which is forever. what sex is saying is “I give all of myself to you and I receive all of you in return, we belong to each other forever”.

point four: the only circumstances in which sex can be spoken truly is marriage. sex speaks in the body the same total commitment that is made in the marriage vows, reiterating and confirming the mutual gift that has already been given.

this is sort of where it gets tricky (and where I think TOB speakers often fail their listeners), because when you’re dating somebody, if you’re not being disingenuous and stringing them along until you find something better, you do hope that you’ll be together forever. and so the more you fall in love with someone, the more you naturally (and appropriately, I’d say!) want to have sex with them, because you want to be able to express your longing for that forever. you don’t intend to lie with your body! you want to say what sex says and make it true in the saying of it!

I think the usual Christian response is to say “ah yes, but that forever isn’t yet promised or guaranteed, so you don’t know if it’s ever going to come”. and as much as the person currently head-over-heels in love doesn’t want to hear it, unfortunately it is very real. for every Jack who meets his first serious girlfriend in college, has sex with her because he really wants them to be together forever, and then marries her six years later having had sex with no one but her, there’s just as many (if not more) Jill’s who meets her first serious boyfriend in high school, has sex with him because she really wants them to be together forever, then is blindsided by a breakup and goes on to repeat the pattern with several more boyfriends before she finally finds the “one”. it’s a tragically common story, so common that the trauma of it is becoming harder to recognize. but it causes severe emotional and psychological harm, to give all of yourself to a person hoping for the gift to be received, only to have your whole self be rejected, or trivialized, or used and discarded. it takes tremendous courage for Jill to pick herself up and believe in love again, and often she’s disappointed over and over again. even when the “one” does appear and the gift is finally received completely in marriage, the scars don’t fade completely. I think a lot of people who get their happy ending end up experiencing that phenomenon of psychological backdraft, all their old sexual traumas bubbling up again now that they finally have a healthy sexual experience to know how it should have been. they then have to spend the honeymoon years of their marriage healing from everything that came before. so the usual Christian guidance is “you don’t want to go into marriage with all that baggage, so better to wait just to make sure”.

and while I do think avoiding trauma is generally a good idea, I think this is a little bit of a cop-out. for one thing, it kind of seems to be saying “don’t have sex with your significant other, because you don’t really know if they’re telling the truth about wanting to marry you”—that is, it’s encouraging you to not trust your partner. sure (she said sarcastically), that sounds healthy!! there has to be a better, more loving reason not to have sex with a significant other before marriage. and it’s this: if the Church’s teaching about sex and marriage are really true, then it is just as wrong for Jack to have sex with his girlfriend before marriage as it is for Jill to have sex with her boyfriend—Jack’s eventual marriage to his girlfriend doesn’t retroactively validate every instance of premarital sex! and if Jack having sex with his girlfriend before they got married is wrong, then what we’re saying is it must be hurting them. even though their love story ended happily! even though they did end up giving and receiving the gift of self completely! getting things “out of order” is hurting them and making them unhappy. this is the burden of proof, and it’s much harder than proving Jill’s sexual history is hurting her. and yet if we believe Church teaching, it must be true!

so we return at last to my above point two—in order to exist happily and healthily in the world, we need to speak the truth with our bodies, and not try to twist the language of the body into saying something it isn’t. and here’s the kicker: we are not God. we cannot make a thing so just by saying it. so no matter how understandable it is to try to create a relationship that will last forever by speaking forever with our bodies, it simply does not work that way. when the word is spoken out of the context which makes it true (i.e. when you have sex outside of marriage), it does not and cannot bring that whole context into being—it doesn’t create a vow of fidelity, it doesn’t create a shared life, it doesn’t create a public commitment. someone can have sex with you and then break up with you, someone can have sex with you and then get in their car and go home leaving you there by yourself to sleep alone, someone can have sex with you and then pretend you don’t exist. the sex, on its own, doesn’t create a slippery slope that leads swiftly and inevitably to marriage. it just creates tension between the life you actually have, unmarried, and the unreal life you’re pretending you have in sleeping with one another. it makes all those parts of yourselves that you haven’t shared stand out more strongly, making you feel every little separation as a wound. and instead of creating a sense of peace and security, it leads to a kind of desperate grasping feeling—“we’re acting like us being together forever is a done deal, but it’s not a done deal, it’s not set in stone, so what can I do to make it work, how can I control this, how can I make him want me enough to stay?” even if in the end Jack proposes, the foundation of the relationship has been damaged. it can be healed, and rebuilt! but it is not good for a relationship to develop under that kind of strain. not good, and not necessary.

what’s the alternative? when you wait to have sex until marriage, your dating years with a partner can be years of expectantly looking forward in hope, while also living in the moment. you are not married yet—so your relationship is not set in stone, you’re still deciding what kind of relationship you want to have together, which means it can still get better and better as you build it. talk a LOT! talk about everything! talk about your pasts, talk about your dreams for the future! work out your issues in the present instead of covering them over with physical affection! because you’re not burdened by the anxious desperation to turn a lie into the truth, you will be able to see more clearly what the strengths and the weaknesses of the relationship really are, which allows you to address your weaknesses and work on them! and because you’re not pretending like you’re already totally committed, the prospect of actually making a total commitment will be more and more attractive. when you’re not trying to act like you’re married already, it’s so much easier to have open conversations about the future you want together, and easier to know when it’s time right now to take steps to get there. and that’s exciting! it’s fun to have stuff to look forward to, it’s fun to make plans together!

it’s not a better way because there’s less collateral damage, because you’re hedging your bets playing it safe just in case something goes wrong. it’s a better way because it’s all about letting love develop in its own time, according to its own internal laws. I’m not gonna say “guard your heart”, as if your significant other was an enemy at the gates. instead, “guard your relationship”, because it’s worth protecting, worth giving every chance to be as happy as it can be.

[acexsmhking]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ CBF!Toby

Warning(s): 18+ content, FEM!reader, nasty sexy, mentions of abuse, mentions of child abuse, mentions of child neglect, Toby’s backstory is a TW itself, Toby’s obsessive behavior

BSF!Toby that coincidentally breaks into your home one night, fully intending on satisfying his urges, maybe taking a limb off you and leaving

BSF!Toby that’s quiet pushing open your door, feet not making a sound as if he isn’t even there

BSF!Toby creeping to the side of your bed, eyes locked on you but something shiny catching his eye

There on your nightstand, a picture. Three people, two girls and a boy. Clearly two of the individuals are you and… him?

BSF!Toby’s head pops to the side, a hiss leaving his lips cringing at himself. He sneaks a glance at you, still thankfully unaware

BSF!Toby doesn’t look back at the picture, something about it.. irks him. That girl in it irks him

BSF!Toby leans in and sniffs you, you smell familiar you look vaguely familiar. He can feel himself getting hard as he looks at you, really looks at you

BSF!Toby feels himself getting frustrated, upset as to why he can’t remember you. Why was he feeling so… peaceful? Seeing you

BSF!Toby who suddenly leaves in a huff, shaking, bones popping uncontrollably as he stumbles out of your room, out of this house

Swiping one of your discarded panties on the floor…

BSF!Toby that stalks you, watching you from crowds, trees and corners as you go about your day

BSF!Toby gets a ridiculous hard-on one day watching you, seeing you bend over to pick something up and feeling a disgusting amount of jealous when he sees someone else checkin you out

BSF!Toby deciding enough is enough, and creeps into your house while you’re making a snack, completely unaware of him around the corner glaring at you

You who finally turns and, reasonably, freak the all hell out as you see a tall, face hidden, bloodied hatchet carrying individual in your home

The stranger moves fast, gripping your neck. You can’t turn your head, you can barely breathe. You’re horrified

Then you see it, a simple glimmering chain.. it’s the only thing on him in gold, the only thing on him that seems well maintained

You recognize the cross, the pearls dangling from it. You heart trembles, your nails dig into his sleeves as you try fighting him off

But BSF!Toby seems unbothered, presses a knee between your legs. You’re stunning, to him at least, and your scent. You’re driving him crazy

He feels unreasonable, more than usual. You look like a dream, something distant, something no someone he’s supposed to know

“T-Toby?” Your voice is quiet, hoarse clearly still unable to take a good breath of air

But you feel his grip loosen, his side head move to the side as one of his hands pop. This time your reach for his face, running your fingers over the cold leather muzzle where his gnash should be, is

BSF!Toby that keeps his grip on you, but is nicer.. feels nicer. He doesn’t protest as you remove his goggles, or when you undo the straps of his muzzle

He just watches you, as your eyes widen and tear up. Roaming his face and taking everything in. He can’t fault you; he’s doing the same

He looks older, tired, with this.. look in his eyes. They seem dead, you never understood what that saying meant before now

He looked as if he’s seen things and as if he’s done things. And if the hatchets are anything to go by he has

But still, some sort of weight lifts from your heart. Just being able to see him again; really see him again

It’s not some old photo, not an old tape from years ago. It’s actually him brown eyes, unkept hair and jitters

He leans closer, thigh pressing harder against you. You gasp, hands on his triceps as you weakly try squirming

“Tobs!” The nickname slips from you before you can stop it. His brows relax, he doesn’t look as.. angry at you now

You can feel slobber leak from him and onto your shirt as he moves his head to your neck, you can hear him take in a sniff

His fingers occasionally flex, crackle around your neck making you choke but he seems uncaring about moving hand

BSF!Toby that gives your neck a long lick, groaning at the taste of your skin. You’re soft, so soft and warm. Your skin isn’t too salty, but not dusty either

Your thighs clench around his, you can feel heat rise in your cheeks and your heart thumping

And of course BSF!Toby cared too little to be aware, suckling and biting your neck as you squirmed, core grinding against his thigh as your hands cling to his jacket

You’re whining, practically begging him to stop, let you pull yourself together and talk

BSF!Toby that just swats your hand away when you try pulling him off. He feels so safe, and you taste so damn good

You can feel yourself getting wetter, clit throbbing and it’s not enough. You need more you need him you need to feel his skin

BSF!Toby is relentless, as he moves you against his thigh. Not flinching as you begin unbuttoning his shirt, teeth nipping your jawline

“Ich nehme dich mit, Kleines”

: ̗̀➛ I am so sorry this is ass, I have been having a horrible headache. But I wanted to feed you all!! I am also trying to play more RDR again after months so the next coming chapters are a bit more put together, I am also still working on Brian’s generals — Ace

[m0chisenpai]

Mochi what do you think about 90s model reader (think brandi quinones) and loumand (they 100 percent watch fashions shows in modern days)?

Its cannon that they like people who capture attention (*coff coff* lestat). I think they would meet her in a show and would send her flowers and letters to court her and all that jazz

Sorry if this is weird :/

vogue

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

in which your pefermonce off and on the runway catches their attention

author note: I ate this up so much, I literally scoured Pintrest and fell down a rabbit hole and have to fight every desire in my body to do another multipart series for this

The production people move like flies past your eyes while you sit in your regal beauty. Eyes unblinking, legs crossed perfectly, your hair now braided pulled up into a bun with a few pieces falling and curled.

You hold the hand of Armand, his finger runs over and over. You've come to learn this calms not just your nerves but his as well. Louis remains off to the side, he is weary of cameras these days. Preferring to leave you and Armand to such matters.

But when you pout those lips and flutters those ethereal eyes he relents to sit to the sides.

When the interviewer settles in the chair he has your attention and your back straightens.

"Runway, Vogue and Dior, red carpets, music videos. But your most recent appearance in the critically acclaimed rock star The Vampire Lestat's music video put's you back in the public eye when you should look much more...different." That breaks your picturesque facade with a light giggle that crinkles your dark lined eyes,

"That damned name'

'Calm yourself my love.' You catch Louis' fleeting gaze.

"How does the face of the 80s and 90s reappear in the 2000s rained in blood and completely untouched by age?"

"Hmm I think I have my wonderous loves to thank for that, there are only so many things that can hide the thief of the night that is time. But I seem to be lucky to have escaped its grasp." Armand places a languid kiss to the back of your hand while Louis raises his glass from the side.

"I believe the Gift only encapsulated the beauty she had from the moment we first met." Armand speaks up.

"And this would be during your rookie years as an athlete may say?"

"Yes at the beginning of my runway career in my early 20s, though I would not turn till 30. Around the mid 80s I was found by my lovely companions when I was at my lowest. Watching from the sides. And I did everything to ensure not to fall in love."

"Cheeky." Louis coos in your mind.

"Let's go back then, how were you back then? You say you were at your lowest but your face was desired by so many."

"Beauty, fame, money, sex is all so fleeting. And the fashion industry sucked every bit out of you till you were a husk for them to drag along until the needles and knife was needed to hide any evidence of your decline."

Armand will never admit it out loud but he was particularly fond of the 80s and 90s. He loved the fashions o each era, but he fell in love with runway. It was theatre in an entirely new facet. Louis can recall, though his companions face was stone cold, the glimmer of warmth in his eyes that watched each and every model. Catching every small finite detail.

Louis was more than happy to donate and invest in the ocassional piece for Armand who returned the favor. Until one evening they are encaptured by a beauty amount the sea of tall skinny legs.

This angel that graced the runway one evening of Paris Fasion week. It was dull, Armand confided in Louis as they dressed for the show they and and a few exclusive members were invited to.

One by one Armand began to count them like sheep until she entered. A sheer black tube tob pencil skirt dress with a billowy white blouse beneath. Your eyes are smoky and sharp and your lips a bright chery red. When you walk, you lack the stiffness the other girls move with, no no you glide. The runway is your stage, you dance so beautifully.

Armand sits up as you walk past. He neded you then, he neededyou now.

When you are off you brush past the fussy designers who bark orders in French that is too fast and English far too broken. All you care to know is you have a period of relief to indulge in a smoke and soon after a bump from one of your acquaintances.

You slump in your seat, a cigarette warms you up as you enjoy the momentary silence until you are up again. You grow tired, bored of this. You see it boiling in your eyes, past the makeup, the eye liner and rouge.

From your side one of the assistants carefully moves to your side.

"For you ma'am a gift from some of our most generous investors of the arts."

"M' not sleeping with them" you mumble around the still lit cigarette which dangles from your lips as you open the card tucked into the dozens of fresh roses.

"A rose for a rose." You grumble putting out your cigarette on the card and getting up to squeeze into the sheer scandalous dress though you would hardly call it that with the pièce de résistance being an intricate veil that twists and covers and is encrusted with diamonds around your face and binding in the back.

As you go to line up, standing still for any changes and a quick make up touch you are nudged to get in line. But a thought lingers in your mind.

When you walk you can't help but wonder, which one of you wants to sleep and tell the tale, hm?

"On the contrary my dear." You almost falter when you turn to walk back. That man's voice sends shives down your spine as you carefully make sure not to falter. "We would prefer to have you more than just in the flesh."

His partner to the left flashes you a cocky smile. He's lucky you are being watched otherwise you would have scowled.

"Aw, don't scowl like that chere."

They follow you to London. Your picture is in all the tabloids and paprazzi is stationed outside of your hotel where you quckly find the bar. In an act of defiance, and trying to add your flare, you stopped during midwalk to kiss the collar of your mysterious suitor leaving a perfect red stain.

Since then your manager has been bombarded with numerous calls for editorials, spreads, and interviews.

"Another glass for her please."

Your eyes cut to the beautiful man whose eyes look enchanting through the fog of smoke he carefully clows away from your direction. A black turtle neck tucked into a pair of slacks to battle the chill.

But no words can describe the work of art that are his eyes which stare deep into your yours,

"I don't sleep with fashion fanatics, not anymore at least" you mumble into the dirty martini before a new one is placed in front of you.

The corner of his lips twitch into a mix of a smile and a smirk.

"Nah I'm not into the whole art of fashion. Just a simple collector is all," he watches how your luscious lips leave a red imprint along the rim of the glass.

"Oh? And do I fit your collection?"

He hums, "I'd dare to say you outshine it."

"Let me guess," you rest your cigarette in the ashtray to give him your undivided attention. "Your wife wants to watch doesn't she?" Your eyes look pass his shoulder at the women and some of your fellow workers.

"Your far off. Got no wife, but my companion does enjoy to watch ocasionally." Louis leans forward, his chin on your shoulder and his cold lips touch your ear. "And he's been watching this entire time my dear."

Your head quickly turns and sure enough, a man watches at the end of the bar. A gass half filled, his both arms rest on the counter and his eyes remain unmoving on you both.

"Put her tab on my card will you?" Your mysterious heart throb drops a card that clanks and you catch a glimps of the name.

"Louis de Pointe du Lac" you read it to yourself as he stands to walk languidly to the man. Placing a hand don his shoulder and sitting beside him.

You should be unnerved by their constant appearances, but you enjoy this game of cat and mouse. Sharing words at afterparties, drinks at hotel bars, and one night together in the satin sheets of Milan.

Your room is always filled with flowers when you arrive. Champagne and chocolates await by your bedside. You never fail to find their eyes in the crowd, you dare to say this is what love must feel like.

You keep the notes and letters from Armand. His way with words are what bring the light back in your eyes as you walk and model.

Whatever it is, your agent tells you one day, keep it up. because you begin t see a spike in your career and appearances. Leading you to walk your first large red carpet event.

When you step out of the shining vintage car immediately you are met with flashes, clinging to your sur shrug for comfort imagining their arms as you walk and pause for questions and for photographs.

"Can we be under the assumption you have a special someone?" Your interviewer asks over the roar of paparazzi and photographers at a red carpet event.

"Hmm, I guess you could continue to speculate." You give a cheeky grin to the camera as you walk off with a flurry of questions at your leathered heels.

When you enter the museum hosting the charity event they await you. Your drop your shrug into the arms of one of the attendants while Armand takes hold of your clutch. You walk in between them looking at the beautifully restored and donated pieces. The theme is very rococo and you adore it, the artwork, pottery and ceramics and the beautifully restored gowns on display.

"Oh my goodness look at this one, it reminds me of a Monet" you coo as you stand before the water lily pond. Your hand on your chest as you pause. You wish it were yours. Though it is not the original you want it still.

And that's enough for Armand to place a red sticker near the artists name.

"Oh you didn't have to, Armand." you pout at him as he cups your jaw looking into your eyes.

"You clearly desired it, did you not?" When all you do is nod he hums. His thumb begins to stroke the soft skin of your jaw. "Then you shall have it."

"We would travel the cities I was in. And during the off season I spent here or in the comforts of one of our other homes. I believe Berlin will be our destination this year for the holidays, right my love?"

And how can Armand no to those eyes.

They gleam with mischief, golden flakes sparkle in your bright eyes. "Whatever her hearts desires I have assumed the duty to fulfill each ofthem, we both do."

You shush him, had you still been mortal you swear your cheeks would be flushed.

The interviewer

"But I believe this Gift would have to be my most treasured one."

[machrealgirl]

Secondo apparently:

You know what? good for her.