Verso really is the ultimate gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss
(with a little bit of mansplain, manipulate, manwhore thrown in)
seen from Italy

seen from France

seen from Singapore
seen from Italy

seen from Singapore

seen from Kazakhstan
seen from Singapore
seen from China

seen from Singapore
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from China

seen from Canada
seen from China
seen from China

seen from Australia
seen from Yemen
seen from China

seen from Australia
Verso really is the ultimate gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss
(with a little bit of mansplain, manipulate, manwhore thrown in)
I think you need to just accept that the nasty Frenchman has taken up home in your brain and made himself comfortable. you love him and you know it. you just hate on him on the outside to cover up the fact you can't have him. accept it, it makes it easier my friend. join ussss
Fuck it. I'm changing my profile banner to this ask.
So many assumptions and accussations. I am being accussed of being a tsundere (is that what the kids are saying or did we move past that word) towards and old ass vogue model whose whole personality is "wine mom" whos also a deadbeat dad. Lord forgive me.
Such serious allegations will need to be reviewd by my lawyer. The defemation....
In short: you can, reapectfuly, shove that baguette up your, or better yet, that frenchmans rectum. Respectfully, ofc.
(Jkjkjkjkjkjk <3)
hi thanks for stopping by, I’m Right
🔎 FOR THE PRINCE
oh man the prince you know the prince but oh mannn
in detail:
when he contains himself to a humanesque form, he’s about 5′10, pale enough it’s easy to see the blue veins winding under his skin, and without his massive fur-lined and padded coat he definitely veers towards the ‘skinny’ side of willowy; usually dressed in fine linen shirts with delicate embroidery that he’s done himself, dyed black because he has inherited the melodrama of gerard butler in phantom of the opera (2004) and that is his sole personality trait as far as fashion goes: melodrama
his hair falls just above his shoulder, and changes shade depending on the time of year because i am basic like that – in the six months of night at the end of the world, it’s blacker than the sky, with streaks of white and silver that come and go with shooting stars and the phases of the moon. in the dawn and dusk months, it’s a golden-gray, and in summer it takes on more of a pale gold shade like the sun itself, because i mean. yes
his eyes are usually a shocking shade of red that draws all attention, and he is always, always smiling; if the prince is frowning, something is wrong. there’s something unsettling about his grin, though – he has too many too-sharp teeth, poised to tear out the throats of wanderers who trespass on the snows.
with his coat, he is billowing fabric and drama; without his coat, he is all sharp edges and awkward angles, like he isn’t entirely sure how he fits into the world, lanky and full of an uncertainty that bumps shoulders on door frames and knocks cups off of tables. basically when you reduce the prince to his most human elements, he’s something like an ashamed older puppy who’s mastered walking and running but isn’t so good at the stopping bit and will absolutely trip over his own feet
he has long fingers that bear no scars despite absolutely repeatedly stabbing himself with sewing needles over the last few centuries, because his vanity prevents him from allowing himself any wounds; basically he’s more concerned with how pretty he looks than how functional his human body is, and i think that’s very valid of him
and this is getting long oops, i’ll cut it off here but thank you for the ask!!
send me a 🔎 and an OC’s name for a detailed description!
Roxy, slamming through a door: UR VALID !!!!
June, confused: what about my valid?
miss ouba is not having it with mr auriant anymore
Remember when sander drew robbe and showed him and robbe basically crumbled 🥺 that was a good time to be alive 👍🏼