#her hairstyle is more in her tails she twists them together so no one sees she has more than one

[modpoppy]

also misc dogi practice

[charmixpower]

🌊 Aish hairstyles 🌊

Literally oh my fucking god the designers can't think of more than three fucking hairstyles for Aisha, if I never see her with twin puffs again it will be too soon. Put her in a unique fucking hairstyle you assholes. This anger at the complete lack of interesting hair for Aisha is what sparked me to do this series in the first place. Just so I can show how fucking cool her hair could be if they weren't fucking cowards about it. Unsurprisingly this one took me the longest, with all the braids I had to line and color (tho it didn't take as much time as expected), but it was a lot of fun to do. I was easily the most excited to this one for obvious reasons. She looks great. I went a little ham on the gold jewelry but Aisha deserves it ok?? Her hairstyles in the show are so dull, she needs some fun

Side note, Aisha has the second longest hair out of the Winx, longest naturally, but it isn't visible due to how coily Aisha's hair is. My hair goes from barely toucing my shoulders to below my sternum, and my hair is curly as where I draw it Aisha's the 4 range. So yeah, her hair gets like at least 6 inches when straighten, going all the way to her butt. I also challenged myself to style her edges differently with every drawing djsjs which you can probably tell

Anyways on to the individual styles

Classic Aisha: this is the hairstyle I've started to usually draw Aisha in. Sporty and practical meet fun and feminine! I also gave her a nose piercing bc she, Musa, and Tecna have the vibes, and to fit the slight vibe of Andros. Aisha's hair in canon usually looks like it's on the low side of curly, and the reason why is made p clear by the miss magix ep and s8/WOW, so I decided to give her tight coily hair. Btw yeah that's her s2 camping outfit

Twists Aisha: this was my first foray into drawing this hairstyle, I usually draw dreads and box braids in this area, so it doesn't look super good but hey I tried jdnsjs. I wanted to stylized them so I'd didn't spend years trying to finish them, and you can visibly see me give up on that with the next drawing, but I think if I were doing a comic or quick doodles this is what I would go with. Anyways, I did this one because it really makes me think of Aisha athletic nature. Idk they just look super athletic to me, and I gave her a little extra ponytail for the fashion of it. Sporty chic

Mermaid-y: When I first drew these braids with the flat bottoms, they kinda looked like Mermaid tails to me?? So my brain was like, Aisha in her mermaid era <33. So my heart is set on her having this hair during s5, mermaid season, mermaid hair. It's literally perfect. Also I thought this top was super cute. This is where I really went overboard with the gold, but she's in her mermaid era, princess, guardian fairy, and dame. She can have a little (lottle) gold, as a treat. She deserves it, she's been though a lot lately with her family and Nabu being in a COMA. Some fun hair is good for the soul

Date night: light rage. They put Aisha's hair into pigtails for every causal event that happens and it inches across my last nerve like you wouldn't believe. Much like how that uniform outfit ruined one of Musa's hairstyles, pigtails feel ruined for Aisha, but making the. Apart of a braid really lessoned the blow. Half of me wishes I did a head wrap instead, but I can't just not include them. The outfit is super cute tho. She's going on a date!!! Yess!!! So pretty. I'm so happy with her earrings and dress. She and Nabu are gonna go have a picnic together, it's gonna be great

Box braids: I just got my braids taken out this Friday, which was fun (it hurt a lot, especially taking the small ones out ;-;) and I think it's a really good hairstyle for Aisha. I used to think that they'd be super impractical due to being so long, but because they're so heavy they're not actually annoying to deal with at all. They don't move all that much and they don't really get in the way. These would work perfectly for Aisha. Giving her the long hair, and the practicality. Absolute win! Of course I had to go for her outfit from her date with Musa. These kinds of braids always make me think someone has an important event coming up or they're trying to look cute, and a first date is a perfect occasion. I had so much fun with the earrings and braid decorations

Work out: I wanted to go for something simple, less fancy, and that doesn't require braiding, for of her hairstyles to just like her hair be itself and vibe. Here it is in a classic half up half down look, completely unbraided and vibing. Outfit slightly inspired by Serena Williams's entire aesthetic, including the headband. I didn't wanna put her hair over her shoulders, which admittedly looks a little weird but I wanted the high low part to be clear fjsjdnd

Poodle puffs: Personally I think Poodle puffs are really hard to styles, because it's hard to get the size of the puffs right without going too far in either direction. I think I got it right here? I think four is a good number of puffs. This is probably one of my favorite looks, mostly because of how warm and royal it looks. I'm a sucker for shiney jewelry and warm colors. I think this one came out especially well, I love the earrings, and the dress looks really good! I was worried it was gonna look silly but thankfully it doesn't

Bantu knots: She just looks gorgeous here. It adds so much to her orginal red carpet energy. Her hair is now all done up and fancy. Her nose ring also adds to the energy. I really like the earring, despite how lopsided it is lol, but I do wonder if it was a little too much for such a elegant outfit? Idk. Either way I didn't do anything to this look because I love it and she looks amazing. Not thoughts, head empty, bantu knots pretty

Princess Aisha: Hehe this one is probably my favorite out of all the hair. Not the outfit top XD. I don't like poofy European dresses rip. I got to go as fancy as I want!! I feel like Aisha usually tries to stay away from super fancy and complicated one event only hairstyles (which is why she usually goes for protective hairstyles she can wear for a while with low maintenance before needing to change it), but she's making a formal appreances, which means I can loop a gem into her hair. I also got to put big gems on her outfit and earrings which was super fun. This perticualr hairstyle always looked super royal to me and I had to include some proper beads on the look too. They match the gem she's wearing. Extra royal look. Her headgear as a child did something similar, but now that she's older she can just get proper braids put that do what the head gear was doing but better. Also can you tell that I was worried about getting too close to the edge of the page XD

[ponyguru]

Here she is at last ... Marie Antoineigh, in her full glory!

WARNING: LONG POST AHEAD! Only read further if you’re prepared for artist babble!!

I already posted most of these photos on my Instagram, but I like to have a more full ‘breakdown’ on my Tumblr, simply because IG isn’t as friendly a format for the more informative posts, imo. (Plus, no line breaks!) Marie Antoineigh was created for the 2021 TheDollPlanet rerooting contest, and won first place in her category! She also was featured on the front page of their Etsy! Her hair is done in their NP Fluffy in pink and white!

Marie Antoineigh (obviously based on Marie Antoinette, with a punny name suggested by a friend!) started life as a very sad, stained Pony Bride, with her hair shaved down to the skin, a rusted and lobbed tail, a chopped-off neck plug and Sharpie stains everywhere, notably around her eyes. I didn’t get a true “before” photo, simply because with my impulsivity, sometimes the only choices are ‘start now or start never’, so I try to minimize how many roadblocks are ahead of me.

I took a photo of her after her rehair, but before the styling, so you could see how thick and poofy her hair was, and try to illustrate a little step-by-step of how her hairstyle came together. I knew some of the basics of how a Rococo hairstyle should look, but because I didn’t know if the hair would curl in time, I didn’t want to rely too heavily on curls, so I incorporated more braids than would probably be period accurate. I actually used a Gibson girl technique for the body of the hair, creating a ponytail that would cover up a square of Styrofoam (stabilized in the head with a straight pin), with another ponytail on top to enhance the volume. I love reading Instagram hair tutorials, so I attempted some ‘teased braids’ to frame the front of her bouffant. I left some hair loose at the end, so I could French braid it into the bouffant, and added a lock of the solid pink to twist into a bow, which I also learned on an IG tutorial. I figure she’s not Marie Antoinette exactly, she’s Marie Antoineigh, and so a pony version of a royal could have more liberties with her style. Her hairstyles often featured pearls, so I strung pearl beads onto thin jewelry wire, which gave me more control where I draped them. I also kept a hank of hair loose in the front to curl it on top of her crown, which is a ring, secured in place with two thin strands of hair tied at the back of her bouffant. Her tail is done in two braids, one large four-strand and one mini three-strand! 

(Painting is “Portrait of Marie-Antoinette de Habsbourg-Lorraine (1755-93))

I originally planned to have a more stereotypical crown next to a slice of cake, but I realized that I should use a reference for a French crown. Unfortunately, the paintings I found of Marie Antoinette online didn’t feature any crowns, but I did find a beautiful jeweled headpiece in the painting above, with the typical feathers and pearls to accompany. She is also often painted with roses, so I added a frosting rose to her cake. And because she’s a royal, she gets the extra luxe treatment; a symbol on both sides! I also gave her a heart-shaped beauty mark to cover a particularly obvious purple dot on the side of her nose.

Marie kept her original eyepaint, as you can see in the top comparison photo; I used white speckling paint to cover the stains around her eyes, which reduced them to more of a lavender eyeshadow, and then painted a lacy pattern over it. Her original symbols were removed, and repainted with the cake-headpiece symbol.

I think that just about covers all of it! But I took a million photos, so just for kicks, I’ll include those below the cut! Thanks for reading!

This was my first composite photo, I was going to use this as my entry ... but when I emailed the organizer to ask if a composite photo was okay, she told me that someone uploaded 16 photos! So I added even more photos!

(^This is the shot I decided to use for her primary photo!)

Okay byeeee!

[sithsecrets]

A Matter of Expediency - Part VI

After being married off to Kylo Ren in the name of securing an heir to the First Order’s throne, a princess tries to navigate the ins and outs of married life. As she grows closer to her new husband, the princess also carves out a place for herself in the Order, assuming control over her life when she thought she would have none.

—

Part 6

4k words

Mentions: swearing

—

You rise early on the morning of your wedding, too anxious to lie in bed any longer as you watch the sun creep up in the sky. It’ll be hours before it’s time for you to get dressed, and you know good and well that your ladies are still fast asleep. Lydia’s never been a morning person, Joon stayed up late playing cards, and Helda had to be practically poured into her bed by the time dinner ended. It looks like it’ll just be you for a while, so you start hunting for ways to occupy your time. Nervous energy thrums through your entire body, and you’re plagued with the urge to pace about the room until your legs give out. You decide that a walk on the beach might do you good instead, so you set out on the sand, not bothering to change out of your nightgown.

The morning sun is gentle and warm on your back as you walk along the shore, letting the salty water of the ocean lave over your feet and ankles as you did last night. This place really is paradise, you think wistfully, smiling to yourself as you observe some marine life further out. The creatures jump out of the water together, seemingly playing a game of chase, and you consider the event a good omen.

A bit less anxious after some time outside, you head back up to your rooms, glad to see that a breakfast buffet of sorts has been laid out for you in your absence. It’s far too much food for you to eat alone, but you figure that the resort staff has considered the fact that your ladies may come to eat with you as well. You nibble on some fruit and a pastry, unable to eat much because of your remaining jitters.

You’re salty and windswept from being out by the water, and though no one is here to help you, you decide to take a bath anyway. It ends up being nice, soaking in the warm water alone as you languidly wash and cleanse your body. Though bathing does help you relax a little bit, you still can’t help but think of what’s to come as you exfoliate. You’ll be a married woman in just a few hours’ time, and tonight, you’ll retire to your marital bed with your husband. Surely the Supreme Leader is expecting that the two of you will lie together, and the mere notion of that makes your heart pound. You feel totally helpless, lacking in sexual experience of any kind, and you fear that you won’t be able to please him. Both Lydia and Joon have said that it’s not that difficult to make a man happy in bed, but you’re still incredibly unsure of yourself. So, to compensate, you’ve decided that it would be best for you to make your body as soft and appealing as possible. You may not know what to do with your body, but you would die if Kylo lost interest in you simply because he ran his hands over a patch of scratchy dry skin.

Out of the tub, your crusade to make yourself appealing continues, and you slather yourself in lotion and moisturizer. At the end of it all, every inch of your body is silky and soft, and that makes you feel just the slightest bit more confident.

You snack on some more food after you’re done bathing, munching on fruit and toast until your ladies finally come stumbling into your chambers. Helda complains of a headache, calling the rest of you cruel when you snicker at the fact that she’s hungover. Your ladies graze on the spread that was laid out for you earlier, practically force-feeding Helda toast and fruit so that she’ll feel a bit better. You nibble on some cheese and berries, eating because you know you need to— passing out in the middle of your own wedding would be too mortifying to bear.

Finally, the time comes for the lot of you to begin getting dressed. As always, Lydia does everyone’s hair, making quick work of styling Joon, Helda, and herself before she sits you down in the chair. Lydia is much more deliberate in her work with you, twisting and combing your hair carefully, pinning with purpose and a strategic touch. When she’s finished with you, your hair is sleek and elegant, drawn into an intricate knot at the back of you head. It’s so different from you’re your usual loose, carefree hairdos, and you touch the hairstyle lightly, experimentally.

Lydia must mistake the gesture for one indicative of a disliking for what she’s done. “I thought it would look rather pretty with your dress. You said that they’re going to call you ‘Empress,’ and I thought the look would complement your new title,” she tells you. “But if you don’t like it, there’s plenty of time for me to start over.”

“No,” you say quickly, not wanting her to remove a single hairpin, “no. I love it. I just… It just makes me feel different is all.”

You know what you’ve said is strange, but no one mentions it as Joon starts on everyone’s makeup. Like Lydia, she fixes up herself and the other ladies quickly, brushing on a few light washes of color and calling the whole thing done. With you, of course, she takes her time, working with her own face close to yours as she defines your features and paints you prettily. And stars, Joon is a talented artist, for when she’s finished with your makeup, you look radiant. None of what she’s put on your face is heavy or overbearing, but every subtle highlight and shadow works together to make you look regal, sultry— you don’t think you’ve ever looked this good in your life.

“You’re a witch, Joon,” you state, unable to tear your eyes away from your reflection.

“Well, I just did my best,” Joon says with a humble shrug, but the little smile on her mouth tells you that she’s rather pleased with herself.

With your hair and makeup done, the time has come for you to get into your dress. Lydia and Joon steady you as you step into the garment, guiding your legs through the layers of fabric so that you don’t tear your train by accident. Helda’s the one who really dresses you, though, working diligently behind your back to fasten up the dozens of little buttons that run down your spine. She has the smallest hands out of all of you, and the girl has always had a talent for tedious tasks such as this one.

After a few short minutes, Helda steps back pronouncing you dressed. Everyone is quiet for a moment after she says this, studying you in the mirror.

“Well,” Joon says softly, “I guess that’s that.”

You aren’t sure what she means, but you understand nonetheless.

“You look beautiful, Princess,” Lydia declares.

“A real vision,” Joon adds quickly, and Helda nods.

“Thank you,” you say, distracted by your own appearance.

One would think you vain, studying yourself so intently in the mirror, but it’s not your beauty that has you fixated. You hardly recognize yourself like this, though you’ve gotten dressed up for many events in the past. But there’s something different about this time, something different about you. You look like a queen instead of a princess, like a woman who commands attention.

“Thank you,” you repeat, “thank you all. I look incredible, really.”

“He’s going to die when he sees you,” Lydia affirms, coming to take your hands. Joon and Helda clasp their palms over Lydia fingers, smiling up at you with a tinge of sadness. Suddenly, you realize that this is it, this is the last time that you’ll all be together in this way.

“It’s been an honor to serve you, Princess,” Helda tells you, and you try your very hardest to blink the tears out of your eyes. It wouldn’t do to ruin Joon’s work, not when the wedding is coming so quickly.

“It’s been an honor to be served by all of you,” you say, talking around a lump in your throat. You break into a tearful smile, looking a Joon, Helda, and Lydia in turn.

There’s so much more that you want to say, but you don’t get the chance. A knock at the door breaks your moment, and you know immediately that it’s your escort come to retrieve you.

“I have to go,” you say quickly, stepping away from the mirror. Joon tails you to the door, straightening the train of your gown and checking your hair one last time.

And with that, you’re gone, off to become a married woman.

---

Your wedding ceremony feels like a dream. All you can really remember of it is faces, the faces of the guests as they watched you walk down the aisle, the face of the officiant, Kylo’s face as he recited his vows to you. Kylo’s face, and the warmth of his hands, and the quick kiss that the two of you shared once you were pronounced husband and wife. Everything else, though, that’s a complete blur. You don’t remember your vows, or what instruments were played as you walked in, or even what Kylo said as he promised himself to you.

You and your husband are whisked to the reception almost immediately, though you are pulled into a side room for photographs. A woman dressed in plain, official clothes poses you and Kylo stiffly, snapping pictures of you smiling and not smiling, of you seated and not seated. Your husband doesn’t speak to you during any of this, and you’re thankful— you don’t think you could form a coherent sentence right now if you tried, too overwhelmed by everything that’s just happened.

The reception is indoor/outdoor, set in a richly decorated hall with a terrace and access to the beach. You and Kylo are greeted with cheers and applause, and the noise of it all is loud enough to make the building shudder. Before you can so much as catch your breath and get your bearings, Kylo’s taking you aside to a receiving area. Two members of the Imperial Guard stand behind you and your husband, supervising guests that come to talk to both of you. Person after person, couple after couple approach where you’re seated, and all of them congratulate you warmly. Kylo already knows most of the people that come your way, but your head is swimming with new names and faces. By the time the line clears, you feel like you’ve just downed a bottle of strong wine.

Kylo gives you his arm when the two of you get ready to leave the receiving area, and you’re happy to have something solid to lean on. Your head thrums with a dull ache, and you find yourself wishing you had eaten more earlier. And of course, your mind spirals with thoughts of all of the interactions you’ve just had, thoughts of all the important people you just met. Anxious, you hope that you made a good impression, thinking of how Kylo said he needed a “second face” for the Order. And that would be just your luck, wouldn’t it, fucking up your new job on the very first night?

“You’re doing very well,” your husband whispers suddenly, and his words send a chill down your back. In your nervous tizzy, you forgot completely that the Supreme Leader can easily read your mind, and your heart pounds at the thought of him knowing how anxious you are.

Your shock and fear must show on your face because the look in Kylo’s eyes softens to something more apologetic. “You are,” he presses, and you can see that he means it. Kylo’s compliment instills you with just a little more confidence, and you straighten your back, grabbing on a little tighter to his arm as the two of you go walking about the room.

Finally, it comes time to eat. The sun is slipping down as everyone moves to their seats, and you’re grateful to sit down. Kylo helps you into your chair before moving to sit down himself, an unexpected gesture that you find rather sweet.

“I’m starving,” you tell him, just to make polite conversation. You and Kylo haven’t talked much since the two of you wed, more focused on entertaining guests than anything else. Kylo turns to look at you, to really look at you. You’re not sure if you’re doing a poor job of schooling your expression or if Kylo can simply sense your feelings, but he somehow knows that you’re overwhelmed nonetheless.

“The hard part is over,” he says to you seriously, speaking quietly so that only you can hear him. “We get to relax now.”

You’re not sure that Kylo Ren’s ever relaxed in his life, but you decide to take his word for it regardless. Before you can say anything else, two servants approach the both of you from behind, setting your food down in front of you without a word. When everyone’s been served, Kylo stands, and a hush falls over the room.

“Friends,” he declares, “allies. I thank you all for being here tonight to witness this union between myself and your Empress.”

Your pulse quickens at his use of your new title, but you try to paint a pleasant expression on your face as you watch your husband speak.

“Tonight marks an auspicious new beginning for the Order. I believe that with the Empress’s help, we will be able to expand our organization and bring even more prosperity and stability to the galaxy.”

Thunderous applause erupt in the room, and it takes several seconds for everyone to quiet themselves. When things are silent again, your husband looks down at you, his goblet held aloft towards your guests. The look you see in his eyes escapes description, but you cannot help but feel that there is something akin to passion swirling behind his irises. Or maybe it’s lust… You aren’t entirely sure.

“To the Empress,” calls the Supreme Leader.

“To the Empress!” echoes the room, and everyone drinks to the toast.

Kylo never breaks your gaze as he takes a long drag off of his glass, moving to sit down as he does so. You think that you should say something, anything, but every word dies right as it reaches your tongue.

Despite the nervous buzz in your veins, you eat ravenously, your need for food too strong to be ignored now. Kylo eats with as just much vigor, probably as hungry as you are. He drinks wine with his meal, but not to excess. You try to be as mindful of your alcohol consumption as well, thinking it would be best to be sober for tonight.

After dinner is cleared away, a band begins playing cheerful, fast music, and many of your guests flock to the center of the room to dance. You spot Helda, Lydia, and Joon amongst them, and your heart yearns to join your friends in their merrymaking.

“Do you dance?” you ask Kylo, turning to look at him. Your husband looks rather taken aback by the question, so you’re not surprised by his answer.

“No,” he says quickly, “not at all. I’m not good, and I don’t like it.”

His answer deals you a crushing blow, and you settle your hands in your lap a bit solemnly. “Oh,” you say softly, trying to hide your sadness, “well that’s good to know.”

The look on Kylo’s face changes, becomes more nervous. “But you’re more than welcome to,” he blurts. “I mean, don’t let me hold you back.”

Under different circumstances, you would have been out on the floor already, but you feel obligated to stay with your husband. This is your wedding, after all.

“Are you sure? I feel bad leaving you here by yourself,” you tell Kylo, but you’re already itching to join in the fray.

“Please,” Kylo affirms, and with that, you’re up and out of your seat.

Joon, Helda, and Lydia squeal when you find them out on the floor, all of them crushing you into a big hug all at once. It’s hard to hear them over the noise, but you manage to catch all of the compliments that they throw your way before the lot of you go galivanting across the dancefloor, twirling and spinning and jumping and holding hands with one another.

After a few songs, a young officer cuts in, asking shyly if Helda would like to dance. She accepts, and just as she goes to leave, Joon’s boyfriend comes and whisks her away as well. You and Lydia stand to the side of all the dancers now, panting and grinning, flushed with joy.

“Let’s get some air,” Lydia suggests, red in the face. Sweat beads at her hairline, and you’re sure that you’re in a similar state.

“And some water,” you add. Lydia nods in agreement, and then you’re turning around, trying to meet your husband’s eye. Your heart jumps a bit when you see that he’s already looking at you, but you don’t say anything, merely throwing your head Lydia’s way and pointing towards the doors that lead outside. He seems to understand what you mean, nodding calmly. You flash him a smile, and though Kylo doesn’t return the gesture, you like to think that you see softness in his eyes.

Someone’s taken the liberty of placing lights outside so that your wedding guests may enjoy the beach, even under the cover of darkness. You and Lydia manage to slip away from the crowd, glasses of water in hand as you traipse across the sand. As you move farther and farther away from the resort, everything grows darker, your path mostly lit by moonlight now.

“The Supreme Leader thinks that you make quite the pretty picture,” Lydia says to you, a fistful of her dress clutched in one hand. You roll your eyes at that, but you’re glad that it’s too dim for her to see you blushing.

“I would like to think so,” you murmur, thinking of how your husband looked at you as he gave his pre-dinner speech,

“Oh, you don’t have to think,” Lydia teases, “because I know for sure. He’s been staring at you all night long.”

The idea of that pleases you, but you try not to let it go to your head, giving Lydia a little shove as she laughs at you.

“I’m just saying that I don’t think you’ll have any trouble endearing yourself to him,” she says, still grinning. “He seems to think a lot of you already.”

“I know.” You’re still murmuring, shy under Lydia’s suggestions.

After a few seconds of companionable silence, Lydia suddenly stops short, turning to look at you. She’s thrown into shadow, almost featureless under the light of the moon, and the way she’s holding herself is strange. Before you can ask her what’s wrong, she speaks.

“Still, it’s not too late to back out,” your friend states. Only now do you realize how far away you are from the resort, how alone the both of you are.

You stare at her for a moment, raising your chin appraisingly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Lydia says, taking a step closer, “that this stretch of beach goes all out to a bit of untamed, uninhabited land. If we kept walking, it would take some time before someone came looking for us. We could be anywhere by then.”

Coming from anyone else, her suggestion would be appalling. But this is Lydia, and you know what happened to her when she got married.

“I’ll be just fine, Lydia,” you say quickly, reaching out to caress her arm. “Thank you. Thank you for thinking of me like that. Thank you for being willing to stick your neck out. But you don’t have to. I can handle myself. I’m going to be okay, I promise.”

And really, you think that you will be. The Supreme Leader does not seem so terrible, and you feel like you could figure all of this out if you try hard enough.

Lydia gazes at you for a moment, and then she reaches out to squeeze your hand. “If you ever want to leave, all you have to do is contact me. I’ll figure out a way to rescue you, no matter where you are or who you’re with. I’m not afraid of any of those people.”

Your friend could be executed for treason if anyone heard her talking like this. You cannot believe how fortunate you are to have someone that loves you so much.

“I’ll be fine,” you reiterate, squeezing Lydia’s hand even harder than she squeezed yours.

---

Back inside, you say goodbye to your friends. It’s bittersweet, exchanging hugs with all of them, aware that you won’t be seeing them for quite some time. But, none of you cry to blatantly in front of the other guests, so you consider the whole thing a success.

You go back to your husband, plopping down into your chair tiredly. Your feet ache, and wisps of hair have come loose form your updo.

“Did you enjoy dancing?” Kylo asks you lightly, eyes flitting to where your hand tucks a piece of your hair back into place. You smile weakly but brightly.

“Oh yes,” you say, laughing airily. “I’m exhausted now, though.”

“If you’re tired, I can have a group of guards take you back to the ship,” Kylo offers, and you cannot help but feel that he’s nervous to be speaking to you like this. His gloved hands fidget, eyes darting away from your face for just a moment.

You’re taken aback by this, having not thought of your wedding night for hours now. Though your initial impulse is to decline, you see that it’s growing late. You have to do this eventually, you know that, so you might as well rip the bandage off now.

“Yes,” you say, “that would be all right with me. Are you coming along as well, or…?”

“No,” Kylo says quickly, folding his hands in his lap. “I thought you would like a moment to yourself. You can go now, and I’ll follow shortly.”

You only nod at that, but you’re glad to see that Kylo’s feeling just as shy about all of this. Still, he steels expression as he motions to two imperial guards, blunt and commanding as he orders them to take you to your transport vessel. The two guards do so wordlessly, not speaking to you or even to the Supreme Leader as they escort you out of the room.

You’re loaded onto a small, light aircraft manned by only a single pilot. The guards climb aboard as well, sitting across from you with their weapons at the ready. You get the feeling that they’re there to protect you more than they are to intimidate you, but you find them off-putting anyway. You’ve always known stormtroopers to be friendly and sociable, but you assume that members of the Imperial Guard are held to a higher standard, that they’re people of a different breed. Still, you think that they could stand to say or do something to make them seem a bit more human.

The Supremacy is the biggest craft you’ve ever seen, a virtual city floating out in the blackness of space. As your vessel lands on one of the ship’s many decks, you wonder how you’ll ever find your way around this place, already panicked by the notion of getting lost onboard. Still, you try to keep your cool as you disembark, thanking your pilot and the guards graciously.

A small party is waiting for you upon landing, just a couple of stormtroopers and a woman who displays no insignia or rank of any kind. She’s older, old enough to be someone’s mother, and she wears her graying hair in a tight, slick knot at the nape of her neck. Dressed in shapeless black clothing, one might find this woman unremarkable at first glance.

“Empress,” she says, curtsying deeply. The stormtroopers also bow, acknowledging your arrival. “My name is Miriam. I am here to serve you.”

[kurtty-drabbles]

Postwoman au (part 7)

Finally, write the Krampus and Kitty time travel adventure.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @muninandhugin @tieflingteeth

In all honesty, if you ask Kitty with tact-something some people in her life lack- Kitty took this job without feeling she has a saying whatsoever in the matter. Maybe, it was true, maybe Galaticus in all his wisdom and all his status as an Outer God-one above everyone and everything. No one should forget this. Kitty felt she have no saying so, yet that didn´t stop her to form opinions.

At this very precise moment, Kitty is on her knees watching-even admiring the brazes of the fireplace- each aspect, each small detail of this strange room. It has an ancient vibe, as if Kitty travel back in time, at the same time it feels modern-she saw the TV near. Looks like a new model, at least it looks like.

It certainly isn´t how one imagines Krampus´s room. Kitty let a grin grace her rounded face as she develops some silly ideas for his room. She´s ever grateful Krampus can´t read minds. Those ideas are too dumb and Kitty has no sense of fashion.

"Your hair" his voice jolts Kitty back to reality. Krampus is looking at the ponytail and taking some hair locks in his azzure hand. Feeling the texture. Her hair is fluffy.

"Oh, yeah...I love to use ponytails" slowly her hands undo the ponytail letting her hair free once again. "You know, you don´t have to do this...." she trails off fidgeting with the ribbon used to form the ponytail.

Krampus hummed in response. Playing with her hair as a counter-response to everything.

"Really, is just hair..." Kitty is grateful Krampus is only watching her back. He doesn´t need to see her redden cheeks nor how the color is spreading to the neck.

"I want to do it, plus, you´re here already and you already undo the ponytail..." there´s mirth in his voice. Kitty won´t face him. "Your fingers are dexterous...is almost erotic to watch"

Kitty now has every reason to not turn and see his handsome face.

"I didn´t mean to make you uncomfortable!" he promises kindly. Isn´t it a bit funny? Krampus is kind but he´ll take your misbehaving kid-and sometimes your wife. Yet, he´s here being kind with Kitty just because. What a strange ancient man!

"I´m just saying...if you´re born in my...time, let´s call as such, many men would want to marry a woman with such fluffy hair and dexterous abilities" Kurt is kind.

Kitty could flirt. Could ignore. Kitty, however, has no real game in regards to some social situations.

"I´m Jewish...pretty sure German people wouldn´t like marry me" no shame on her part. Kitty wears her roots proudly. If Kurt has a problem...

"I know...in my time,  Jewish women are just women. Romani women are just women and black women are just women." his tone looks sad. "Until it was a point to distinguish and separate them..." she can feel him shaking his head. "In my time, when a woman presents to...the Gods, to the old temples, we judge her by her skills not her origins...you would get a good match" now his tail has a brush.

Her face turns slightly to the side-still feeling her checks burning- to see golden eyes staring at her amused. Mischievous. The woman pouts and turns back to her view of the fireplace.

"You´re a mysterious figure, you know that" Kitty begins as Kurt chuckles to prove his feelings. "That´s why I did my own research on you!" Kitty confesses to focus on the fire. It´s almost as if the fire is dancing.

Kurt humms again. Starting brushing her hair- Kitty will deny with all her heart if anyone claims she´s purring-slowly and Kitty closes her eyes, incline her head slightly and again if anyone says purring ...they´ll be so wrong.

"Oh, your research about me? I´m flatter, what my little postwoman found" Kurt is brushing her hair without any hush. Without pointing out certain sounds Kitty is making. Not purring, sure!

"Yes, I found out about you and Amanda"

"Uhm, not a secret, Katzchen"

"She was your secretary!" she starts not minding Kurt not an impressive response. "She was the daughter of Margalia Szardos. The lower totem of the magical community and thought if she had you like her...." now she stumbles with words.

"A weapon?" Kurt suggests amused.

"Yes, that. She thought if you were on her team she could conquer the witch community and be the Queen of the Witches" Kitty smiles as Kurt comments she´s correct.

"Margalia was killed by the council...and Amanda had a son with.....her brother" now she stops smiling. Incest sort breaks anyone´s victory.

"Oh, yes. She slept with Stefan. She named her own daughter as Amanda. She has killed as well Stefan" his tone is somber. Kitty wonders if she treads in dangerous waters.

"And the council spare her, the baby, you spare the baby...because you don´t believe in punishing a baby for the parents´ crimes" Kitty amends.

"Yes, Amanda gave her name to the baby but not the last name..."

"A witch without a surname is an outcast" Kitty pipes in. "Yana explain this to me...she´s the Demon Queen of my heart" she states and Kurt stops brushing her fluffy hair.

"Are you two...close?"

"Platonically speaking, of course. We´re platonic soulmates"

"Oh, it makes sense! I meet Yana.....she´s intense" Kurt offers this as an explanation. "She once tried to be the Zombie Queen for lols...she talks about you and her friends"

Kitty wanted to ask if he tried to hit on Yana. Yana doesn´t swing to this team at all.

"I didn´t hit on Yana. Not only Yana doesn´t swing to this team...she is 100% not a good match for me in any way...not a fan of zombies and she would claim herself as a Zombie Queen"

"Oh, that´s Yana. She was a Vampire Queen until she got bored"

"...Your platonic soulmate is all yours!"

Now his fingers are working on her fluffy hair. Time to braid it. "Your hair is lovely than Yana"

"What?"

"Shush, I´m braiding your hair!"

After a few moments. A few pushes on her hair-it may be intentional or not- the hair is done. Kurt takes the mirror to show the hairstyle.

(how it looks)

"What you think?"

"Krampus steals your kids, your wife, also do your hair. What you think?"

"Good, no one will believe the last part anyway" ________________________________________________________________________________________

Meggan Puceanu is a succubus. The world never will let her forget her such fact. NEVER. Succubus are fun for the night, no one wants to hang out with them in the day.

Meggan is all too used by now.

Brian, however, seems to not get the memo in regards to the succubus´s interaction as he´s still talking to her. Still here.

"I found some leads about the Black Queen. Selene is not being supported by Shaw, but, she has money enough for her plans...and Meggan, are you ok?"

"You still are talking with me...are you sure of that?"

And Brian was never the epitome of emotional sensibility or anything like that, in fact, not even his sister was-she tried to sleep with a married man once. Yet, Brian is not completely dumb to ignore the elephant in the room.

"When I ask you to be in Excalibur...you know the invitation is serious, right? I´ll not kick you out tomorrow"

"That´s ...new, really new to me"

"Working with someone else is also new to me...we can learn together"

Meggan wants to probe more of these feelings. Meggan has questions. Gloriana, however, is too professional to let work slide in favor of feelings.

"Do you think Krampus made the right call? Sending someone to the past is a bit dangerous..."

"Who is Krampus?"

"Kurt Wagner"

"That...doesn´t answer my question"

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Krampus is restless. Never a good sign as Santa can confirm. The two figures exchange one final look. Full of answers only for them and only them. Kitty must be oblivious if she wasn´t Kitty that´s it.

"So, my mission is to travel in time. Collect some magic rocks and return...all while not gathering the attention of the ancient figures of there. Smaller gods, right?" Kitty summarizes the situation as brief as she can.

Kurt´s face looks twisted in worry. His tail touches her hands. "You really don´t have to do this..." he looks at her braid hair and typical dress linked to the paganism era. "You can keep the dress and hair...I´ll not mind, but, please...there´s nothing forcing you to do this..."

"Is my work, Kurt, of course, I´ve to do it" Kitty answers resolutely. Even winking at him.

Kurt lowers his head a bit and rests his forehead on hers. Oh, how the height differences are a bit sometimes. Kurt did have to lower himself to do this small action. He could have lifted her up...but it would be too intimate.

"Kurt?" Kitty can´t hide her emotions very well. She tried.

"Stay away from Chernabog, promise me"

"I promise you"

With such small words, Kurt leaves Kitty and conjures the portal. Santa takes from there. "Once you collect the magical rocks...just use your key and you´ll be back in no time"

Kitty nods. Is not a hard task...

She jumps through the portal and Kurt watches as the portal closes.

"You could have tell her...you´re Chernabog"

"I...don´t know how she would reach this"

[bladesandstars]

Highspecs for the send me a ship meme! ♡♡♡♡♡

Okay, @tinyconfectionary​ and an anon also asked about Highspecs, so I’ll do them next. (These are fun! Original post is here.)

who hogs the duvet 

Aranea. Iggy sleeps like a rock and she is a human burrito.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

Aranea. She just wants to know.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

Ignis. Aranea loves him for it and really appreciates them, though.

who gets up first in the morning

They trade off - but Aranea is generally that person who’s bright-eyed and bushy-tailed from the moment she opens her eyes, while Ignis needs to ease gently into the morning with copious amounts of coffee.

who suggests new things in bed

just try to keep up with both of them, honestly

who cries at movies

Neither? Neither of these two cry super easy.

who gives unprompted massages

Aranea. She’s got very strong hands and reprimands Ignis about carrying tension in his shoulders.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

Aranea fusses over Ignis more, because Aranea’s kind of a big baby about being sick, so if Iggy is down for the count she knows it’s serious and will be concerned (and very gentle, Ignis quietly quite enjoys this)

who gets jealous easiest

I’m bad at jealousy. Uh, I’m gonna say neither? Both of them are pretty confident and have been around the block once or twice, so they’re fairly certain in each other (once they finally get together).

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

Aranea refuses to have shame, so that’s gotta be Iggy. In my AU I’ve written him with a prog-rock streak, and I enjoy that headcanon very much. I could also see him being into new wave or other ridiculous 80s nonsense.

who collects something unusual

Ignis has a small collection of coins from the various places he’s been.

who takes the longest to get ready

Ignis. Despite Aranea’s fairly intricate hairstyle, Ignis is much more high-maintenance.

who is the most tidy and organised

Ignis, because Ignis.

who gets most excited about the holidays

Ignis. So. Much. Cooking. And decorating. Aranea thinks it’s cute, though, and gets excited right along with him.

who is the big spoon/little spoon

Ignis is usually the big spoon.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

Aranea has a big mouth, but Ignis is the one who will hold a grudge - for YEARS.

who starts the most arguments

Aranea. She’s the hothead, but Ignis can very often be snippy and lead her into it.

who suggests that they buy a pet

Aranea, but because she wants a dog for hunting. When she comes home and finds Ignis curled up with a book and a giant dog in front of the fireplace, though, the mutt starts becoming a best friend.

what couple traditions they have

In World of Ruin, they call at least once a day to check in. They take at least one day alone together over the holidays.

what tv shows they watch together

Stuff with clever, complicated plotlines, like The Wire, Game of Thrones - and argue about who saw the twist coming first.

what other couple they hang out with

Promptio, Cindylu, Crownyx

how they spend time together as a couple

Talking. For hours. About anything, really. They fascinate and entertain each other very much.

who made the first move

Aranea.

who brings flowers home

Neither- they both think flowers are kinda impractical and messy.

who is the best cook

Ignis, because Ignis. (Also Aranea’s terrible.)

[mollymauk-teafleak]

My Heart: Chapter One

Hey, me and the gf @childofdustandashes are finally collaborating on some Laf/Adri! Please read and give us some feedback, we crave attention.

Adrienne de Noailles could depress herself quite easily by trying to think back to the last time she made a decision for herself.

This dress had been her mother’s choice, an airy and flimsy thing in some limp, lifeless cream, the only hint of colour the embroidered flowers that stalked around the hem. It put Adrienne in mind of abandoned, cursed brides left at the altar who sunk into despair and never took their wedding dresses off. It couldn’t be further from the rich, bright colours and flowing shapes that Adrienne loved and felt comfortable in, which her mother had jettisoned for being too old fashioned, strange, looking like they’d been fished out of a charity shop, before Adri could even open her mouth. The hairstyle was her mother’s choice too, taken out of the braids she found practical and manageable, usually tucked up into two playful buns on top of her head so she could work and focus without having to blow them out of her face every five minutes. No, she’d spent hours that afternoon confined to a chair at the kitchen table, sipping lemon water listlessly like that was a sufficient form of entertainment, while one of the maids followed Mother’s careful instructions and straightened her hair into something still a little wavy and heavy as lead, pulling it up into what was probably supposed to be elegant but Adri just felt exposed. The jewellery had been chosen by Mother as well and now her wrists felt weighed down and what was draped around her neck looked more like a weapon than anything decorative, oversized and overly ostentatious until she looked like she was six years old again, rummaging through her maman’s jewellery box and draping all the trinkets around her neck until she tripped over the pearls. Like a paper doll her mother had pushed out of a book and done up to her own satisfaction, making her go through whatever motions she saw fit.

Like going to this party in the first place, which would have been the absolute last thing Adrienne herself would have chosen to do with her Saturday night.

She looked down at herself as she leaned against the wall, avoiding the turning wheels of the gala around her, trying to stay as far out of the pressure system of banal chatter and air kisses churning like an inescapable tide around the room as she possibly could, even though it came at the cost of a few confused looks in her direction and the undoubtable wrath of her mother for ‘not getting involved’ enough as this were a game of hockey played at school and she was deliberately loitering on the sidelines rather than taking part. But of course, that was how most of the people here saw it, saw everything, as an elaborate, high stakes game. One she had absolutely no interest in playing but she wasn’t given that as an option, like she was born with a schematic and a rulebook and strategy already in hand, expectations and pressures and one foot on a ladder with people urging her on. Where else was she supposed to go but up?

Usually Adrienne would consider this and resign herself with a heavy sigh, seeing no point in railing against something she wasn’t going to be able to change, search for an exit when there just wasn’t one, she was a pragmatic young woman. She’d had to be, to avoid going completely insane. She knew fine well what was going to happen. She was going to keep wearing what her mother told her to wear, going to the parties and balls she told her to go to, go to the university she was instructed to go to and treat her degree as more of a hobby, a stepping stone until the ritual was complete and she found someone with enough history, influence or money, or any combination of two of them to produce the third, like the high society French obeyed Faraday’s Laws of Electromagnetism, for their parents to give a nod of approval and then they’d get married. Just like every other girl her age who was navigating this ballroom like salmon all following the same instinctive commands, albeit with more grace and enthusiasm than Adri herself, at least on the outside.

Adrienne saw no sense in trying to fight years and years of performative tradition. If that was what was going to happen, she felt bleakly certain she’d go along with it, tick all the boxes, keep her parents and grandparents holding their heads up high, sacrifice herself for past generations, expect the same from her children, in the miserable cycle they were all caught in, squeeze out what scraps of happiness she could.

But for tonight at least, she’d decided she was going to sulk and sulk hard. As she approached seventeen, she was sensing the chances to do so sliding through her fingers. And, hey, if this was her last hurrah, then why not make an impression with it by bitterly refusing to take part in one of the biggest societal events of the year. Namely, the Lafayette’s summer ball.

So Adrienne ignored her mother’s sharp green eyes boring holes in the back of her skull, knowing she’d never think to make a scene in the middle of the party, knowing she was strangely hidden from harm by being in plain sight, using the pageantry and formality of it all as a shield. It was a small, anemic victory but that was all Adri had learned to expect from her lot in life.

She planned to waste the evening entirely, not dancing, not making conversation, not even with her friends that were here, the handful of children from other families as grand as hers with enough personality to actually have a conversation with. Not even with her few interesting distant relatives, the ones who travelled and journeyed and actually lived, usually sat somewhere along the thinner than most people would think line between aristocracy and outright, more blatant criminality, those who chose to be a little more honest about the greed people in such circles seemed to worship and yet tiptoe around like a vengeful god they all feared and loved in equal measures, the ones who had passionate affairs and wild addictions and at least burnt their inheritances on interesting pursuits, unlike nearly everyone else. Adri would allow herself to be sorely tempted by that darker, more tangled path afforded to people of her station, if she wasn’t her parents’ only child and sole hope.

Well, maybe if they tried to marry her off to someone boring or reprehensible or who didn’t like reading, she’d give it a go.

But Adrienne didn’t plan to give even them her attention tonight. She was exhausted with it all, morose, feeling nihilistic and she was going to do nothing but drink and sulk and wallow in bitter thoughts, namely over who the young man this ball was apparently being thrown in honour of actually was. Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette. A name probably far more interesting than he was, even if it was one of the sillier Adrienne had come across. She could see him in her mind’s eye, of course she’d met a hundred like him in listlessly following the life plan her mother had constructed for her. Arrogant, able to talk about themselves for well over an hour and not even remember the name of their companion, parroting their father’s opinions and mannerisms all while insisting that every girl they met was exactly the same, always so sickeningly proud of themselves when, as far as Adrienne could see, they hadn’t much reason to be. This Lafayette kid, Gilbert or whichever one of his million names he chose to go by, was likely no different, or perhaps even worse given that, of all the grand, rich, ancient families in France, his was the grandest and richest and most ancient. Which meant he was probably an even bigger asshole than the first sons and heirs and over entitled morons she’d already been forced into stilted conversations with where the only thing on both of their minds was wondering if this was the person they’d have to spend the rest of their lives with.

“You don’t look like you’re having a very good time either?”

The voice jolted Adri out of her sullen daydream, making her nearly spill her wine. She was about to round on the kid who’d mistakenly assumed she wanted to talk, despite every shred of body language she could display, bite his head off until he slunk away with his tail between his legs and next time thought twice about forcing his company on girls who clearly didn’t want it.

But something about him stopped her, froze her in place as she turned sharply to face him, turned the acidic words on her tongue to dust.

Maybe it was the fact that he was smiling. Not a fake, plastered on smile like she always saw at parties like this, strained and a little hungry, like people at an audition. The smile was sweet, a little shy, a little hopeful. It actually looked real.

Adri was disarmed, realising she’d held her jaw open for a little too long, pressing her lips together and chuckling gently, “Ah, not really. Things like this aren’t really my favourite places to be.”

The young man seemed genuinely relieved, as if that’s what he’d been hoping she’d say. He pulled himself up out of his shoulders a little more to confirm that no, that wasn’t a trick of the light, he really was that tall, someone whose limbs seemed to be outpacing the rest of his body in terms of growth, having the look of a puppy whose paws were too big for it. But Adri had to admit, there was something more than a little charming about his gangliness, it perfectly matched his shy, crooked smile and the glinting braces he was making no effort to hide, the smattering of acne across the bridge of his nose he seemed completely unconcerned by, the chipped red nail polish on his long fingers that he nervously twisted in the corkscrew curls of his adorably messy hair. It was like he wasn’t concerned by these little features, what people would call flaws, he didn’t want to hide them. And Adri was strangely glad of them. They made him look human.

“Me neither,” the young man groaned, leaning against the same wall Adri was, “There’s only so long I can stand listening to basically the same conversation over and over again from different people.”

Adri laughed lightheartedly, the guy relaxed even further in response, “You mean the one that goes how is school going, are you prepared for your exams, what universities are you applying to, are you seeing anyone in perfect harmony?”

“All it needs is a beat underneath and you’ve got yourself a pretty decent house track,” the young man laughed with his whole body, with his head thrown back, with his hand pressed to his stomach, with his eyes crinkling in a frankly adorable way. He laughed like he was never going to stop and Adri found herself giggling along, would have done even if she hadn’t found his words funny. Somewhere in amongst it all, she found herself forgetting how self conscious of her own laugh she was, had always been given her mother’s insistence on telling her how much her teeth showed when she did, how her voice cracked.

“I swear, it’s like I’m being interrogated by relatives I haven’t seen since I was six,” he snorted, taking a sip from his own glass, “I thought my great aunt was going to shine a flashlight in my eyes.”

Adrienne knew she should take this opportunity to pry into his family, ask who his aunt was, who his father was, find his family name. Everything that had been drilled into her since she was old enough to put on dresses and look pretty at parties was screaming at her to dive in with both feet, go on the attack, go into battle. But she didn’t want to do that with this young man, the dishonesty of doing that somehow seemed deplorable with him.  

“Join the club,” she smiled instead, moving a little closer to him, “Is that why you aren’t dancing, either? Hiding in the shadows with me?”

The guy laughed again and Adri’s concentration slipped a little more, “I’m not dancing because if I did, I’d give at least five people black eyes.” He held out his scarecrow long arms as evidence.

The scarecrow comparison that flashed through Adri’s mind was in reference to his height only; he was actually dressed quite nicely. He’d disregarded the usual plain black suits that all looked the same once you’d seen one or two or three or fifty, instead he was wearing something slim cut in a deep blue that she was only realising just now had patterns delicately embroidered into it. It was different.

“Very conscientious,” Adri smiled wryly, keeping her eyes on him.

“What about you? You’re proportioned like an actual human being, are you just bad at it?” He seemed to get blunter, his mouth seemed to get looser the more comfortable he got. Likely, that was why he’d been so stiff in the first place but Adrienne didn’t mind. She liked it.

“I happen to be an amazing dancer,” she grinned, not untruthfully, “No, this is actually a form of protest.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows lifted in interest. He abandoned the dregs in his wine glass on top of a nearby bureau rather carelessly so he could turn full to her, like he didn’t want the distraction anymore even though just a minute ago, he’d seemed desperate for something to fidget with.

“Yeah,” Adri’s eyes flashed playfully, “I’m making an organised stand against being forced into a boring, overcrowded party in the name of inflating some rich jock kid’s ego.”

That seemed to amuse him, he tilted his head in a puppyish way, “You mean the Marquis’ son?”

“Precisely,” Adri nodded, “I mean, look at this ball? I think I read about something like this in a Tolstoy novel, what normal seventeen year old wants this for his birthday party, unless he’s a puffed up, over indulged douchebag with more money than common sense who thinks he’s basically a prince?”

Her mouth was running away from her, she could sense that, but she’d had a few glasses of rose more than usual and she so rarely had someone who she felt was actually listening to her when she talked. She’d never realised how starved she was for actual conversation, an exchange that didn’t feel like they were all reading from a script.

The young man merely smiled, his teeth looking glaringly white in the low light of the party, “Have you ever met him? The guy this party’s for?”

Adri waved her hand dismissively, “We probably went to the same overpriced private kindergarten together, that’s how it works with our families. But no, I’ve never actually met him. I could probably do without the experience, I’ve met more than enough of his type at more than enough parties like this trainwreck.”

“Well then…” he straightened up, brushing down his jacket, “Do you want to get out of here? We could go upstairs, somewhere away from all this.”

“Wait…” Adri narrowed her eyes. Either this guy was the most overconfident, bold creep she’d ever encountered or she was drunker than she’d thought, “We can’t...we can’t leave? And for the record-”

“Oh!” the young man realised his slip of the tongue after a pause, “Oh no, it’s just I thought you’d like to see my library? You seem like the kind who’d appreciate it and...well, it’s going to be a damn sight better than this, I can promise you that.”

Adri blinked, getting the sense that she was missing a piece of the puzzle here. “I...but…”

“No one’s going to mind if we duck out,” the young man smiled warmly, “Y’know, seeing as it’s my birthday party and all?”

Oh god…

Adrienne’s jaw dropped, her heart sinking to the soles of her high heels, “Oh my god, I am so so sorry…”

The son of the Marquis de Lafayette laughed fondly, holding a hand up to silence her frantic apologies, “No, no, it’s okay. Sorry for forgetting to introduce myself, its my fault really...though, for the record, we were in the same overpriced elementary together. You bust up my nose with a kickball once. So I guess the jock accusation doesn’t really stick.”

Adri wanted to throw herself out of the nearest window, would have done if his smile hadn’t seemed so genuine, “I am the world’s biggest idiot. Seriously. You’re right, I do remember you now, I should have realised before now but back then, you weren’t so…”

“Gigantic?” he chortled, “Yeah, I know, I shot up suddenly at boarding school. It’s really good to see you again though, Adrienne.”

Oh Lord Jesus, he remembered her name...and she’d been such an ass…

His expression softened, “Hey, hey, I mean it, no hard feelings. Though, if you really wanted to make it up to me, you could say yes to my offer to come see my library?”

Adrienne gave him a steady look, wondering how she was somehow actually having fun at a ball for once.

“Yeah, that sounds amazing.”

***

Adri considered the lanky, slightly angular, slightly awkward young man the boisterous little thing she now remembered had sat behind her in math class and spent most of his time doodling on the back of his book had now grown into, as he loped up the winding stairs ahead of her. She also remembered the playtime she’d spent sulking in the classroom because of the errant ball she’d sent careening into his slightly wonky teeth. Not intentionally of course though she really, really hoped those braces winking in his mouth weren’t anything to do with her awful aim.

She did, however, remember which of his twenty names he went by.

“So, Gil,” she asked, putting gentle emphasis on his name as if to prove that she wasn’t a forgetful idiot as her first impression would suggest, “You sure no one will mind us sneaking away from your birthday party?”

“Nah,” he smiled over his shoulder at her, “As long as I was there to stand and look pretty at the beginning so everyone at least saw my face, that should be enough for Maman and Papa.”

Looking pretty was certainly something he could do quite easily, Adrienne noted, before blushing at her own thought. Which, of course, didn’t stop it from being true.

She thought he’d been joking about there being a library but as soon as he pushed back the nicely panelled, heavy wooden door he led her to, she saw that he really wasn’t. It was an honest to god library, with shelves that towered above them both, stretching up proudly right to the high ceiling, displaying their rows and rows of grand, leatherbound tomes with their titles extravagantly etched in gold, careworn paperbacks with well broken spines that had clearly been read over and over, textbooks on obscure disciplines, clearly guarding secrets Adrienne had never even suspected might be being kept from her, literature from nearly every language, every genre and country and mythos had their own place to sit. Not only the books, but corners to read them in too, a chaise longue clearly surreptitiously swiped from one of the many rooms in this house, as well as a small loveseat, a cushioned bench, wicker chairs around a scratched oak table, a grandfatherly wingback with cracked leather, none of it matching and all of it scavenged but somehow looking like they’d all just been biding time in their previous places, waiting to be brought into this library. It was clearly lived in too, well used. There was half a mug of now ice cold tea perched on the table, no coaster, a chess board set up with some of the pieces moved in a momentarily paused battle, a pair of sneakers too big to be anyone’s but Gil’s lurking under the bench, a similarly oversized sweater folded semi neatly on the back of the wingback. With the warm light from the lamps as soon as he went around and flicked them on, the inviting smell of old pages and recently guttered out candles, the regular, thoughtful ticking of the clock on the wall that somehow seemed to be slower and more gentle than anywhere else, Adrienne never wanted to leave.

And that was even before she saw the slightly grizzled looking ginger tomcat curled up on the cushioned windowsill, getting the last of the day’s sun before it slid completely behind the hills, lounging around like he owned the place as cats are wont to do. Adrienne gave a mildly undignified squeal when she saw him and immediately flew over to pet his torn up ears, but she didn’t care. It didn’t really feel like it mattered in a place like this. Out there. But not in here.

Gil seemed nothing but charmed by it, grinning at her, “Yeah, that’s Ahab. He’s my cat.”

Adri ran her long nails down the cat’s back, making him purr contentedly and blink at her with one eye golden as an ancient coin and another filmed over and scarred, “Good name. He does look like a wise old battered sea captain.”

He looked delighted that the reference was appreciated as he wandered over and took a seat on the windowsill next to his old friend, who greeted him with a dispassionate flick of his ginger bristle of a tail, “He kind of came wandering in one day with pretty much half of everything he should have- one ear, one eye, half of his whiskers- and kind of adopted me?”

Adrienne smiles warmly at that, “Oh did he?”

Gil chuckled, “Well, yeah. The gamekeeper wanted to just bundle him off to a shelter, he’d been biting and spitting at everyone who came anywhere near but as soon as he saw me, he ran right into my arms. So...I took that as a sign?”

Adrienne was beginning to think that Ahab had the right idea. Running into those arms seemed to be quite a good plan. She was half tempted herself.

“This is so cool,” she said quickly, turning away so he wouldn’t see the her exasperated blush at her own thoughts, moving to admire the room as a whole unit, a scene, like a perfectly warming backdrop to a painting or the set of a fondly thought of play, “I mean you’ve even got those rolling ladder thingies!”

“That was the first thing I thought to put in!” Gil laughed delightedly, “Built them myself.”

Adri didn’t even try to hide how impressed she was, “You did? Aren’t you industrious.”

His face turned into that goofy, slightly lopsided, disarming grin she was very, very quickly growing to love and apparently bloomed every time she complimented him, “Nah...more like I’m very invested in having a room I can get some peace in. Read my books, play chess against myself so I have a hope in hell of beating my grandpa when he’s in town, talk to my cat and not have anyone try to get me to go to board meetings or hunting or whatever.”

His eyes drifted down to his hands, knotting and unknotting, fluttering like restless birds in his lap, almost like he was confessing something, admitting to something he knew he shouldn’t be proud of and he’d only just realised that when it was half out of his mouth.

But Adrienne understood. She understood perfectly.

“Why don’t we stay up here?” she suggested gently, reaching over on a single, reckless whim and gently tilting his chin up with two fingertips, “Like you said, they won’t miss us at the party. And even if they did...what of it?”

There was a pause as Gil considered this, his eyes, brown and deep and pleasingly bright, meeting her’s for a moment that felt longer than it actually was. Then he smiled and nodded emphatically, “What of it, indeed?”

And just like that, Adrienne had made a decision for herself.

It felt good

***

They didn’t say much to each other over the next hours, as the evening turned to night and the party downstairs continued on its frantic, vaguely barbaric battleground schematics, never noticing its two soldiers that were missing in action, as they took seats together on the couch, pressed together even with all the available space in the room. Gil chose a slim book of poetry from the second world war, Adri hummed and juggled different tomes for a whole twenty minutes before eventually settling on Persuasion, she’d lost her copy and hadn’t read it in years. Ahab came bumbling over and squeezed himself in between the two of them like a grouchy, suspicious chaperone, making the two of them giggle fondly. Though his presence, his ginger bulk, his eventual tender purring, his tail flicking pendulously even after he drifted off, it didn’t stop their hands, apparently of their own free will, finding each other and entwining. They didn’t pull apart for the rest of the time they spent in companionable peace, reading side by side and somehow becoming closer for their silence.

In fact, one of the few words that passed between them, after they jumped back awake and realised what time it was, before Adri had to run off and find her mother before she had her declared legally dead, was Gil’s shy murmur in the last second before their hands had to pull away, hurried and low almost like he wasn’t sure if he wanted her to hear or not.

“Do you...do you want to come over again? Sometime soon? As like...as a date?”

And Adrienne’s slightly startled but overjoyed reply.

“Yes. I’d love that, Gil.”

As she swiftly kissed his cheek, rising right up on the pointed toes of her shoes to leave a tender smudge of red on his cheekbone before stealing away down the hall and leaving him swaying on his feet and smiling, Adri felt a thrill of something like victory.

Two decisions for herself made in one day. She was on a roll.

[yyubrk]

ep3; peformance

song; applause - lady gaga / skill; aerial silks / outfit -  hairstyle + makeup

There was an advantage to going first, it was quicker and easier to set up her stage. It was only going to take few minutes and during that time, Yubin was off to the side. Unlike some of the others, she wasn't singing or dancing or doing anything that looked like it would be her performance. She had started to strength, being mindful of what was around her. All the while she thought of the disadvantages, like the fact her performance could be forgotten.

Then her eyes wondered off to the set, Yubin wasn't happy with just watching the staff set up for her stage. She trusted them, but not enough to not check it herself. That's how she found herself hovering behind the staff. Experimental tugs were given to the silks and hoop hanging from the ceiling. At one point, much to everyone's surprise she hoisted herself up onto the hoop just to make sure it was properly in place. Finally she was pulled away by hair and make up to do the finishing touches.

Finally, the recording had really started it.

After she finished introducing her performance, Yubin turned and gave the hoop one more tug. It was like a triangle hanging above her. The hoop was in the middle, it hovered just a few feet off the ground and had a silks hanging from it, forming a small seat for Yubin. There was a silk behind the hoop that also hovered a little off the ground and one both sides of it that did touch the ground. They were in close distance, just an arms reach away from each other. It was an very important part of the performance.

The music started once she had placed herself on the silk. Some parts had to be cut, so she opted to make the intro a little shorter and remove the whole first verse so it went straight into the pre-chorus.

As the music started, her head was bent down. Both her hands started to go up into until she clutched both sides of the hoop.

I live for the applause, applause, applause I live for the applause-plause, live for the applause-plause Live for the way that you cheer and scream for me The applause, applause, applause

As the lyrics came in, she lifted her head with a smirk playing on her lips. Then she lift herself off the silk and into the hoop. Once she was balanced, she leaned her head back and brought it up slowly.

With a slight haughtiness in her movements, she brought both her hands down to her side, holding onto the hoop as an anchor. Then she ducked her head under the hoop and started to lean back slowly. By now, her she had started to reach her hand out and her body was being support just by the hoop. Just as the chorus hit Yubin pulled her whole body onto the back silks. For a few seconds she climbed up the silks and started to twist, letting the silks wrap around her body.

Give me that thing that I love (Turn the lights on) Put your hands up, make 'em touch, touch (Make it real loud) Give me that thing that I love (Turn the lights on) Put your hands up, make 'em touch, touch (Make it real loud)

For a moment, she stayed like that until she left herself unravel until she was hanging upside down with one hand on the rope and a little around her waist. With little effort, she pulled her body up grabbed the silks with her free hand. From that moment, she dangled in the air the rope being her only support. It didn't last long, slowly she started to rock back and forth. Once she was close enough, she reached for the silks that were on the right side of the hoop. Now that her both her hands were around the silk she pulled her whole body onto it.

Yubin drew both her legs tight around the silk and twisted it with her arms. Once she had it twisted enough and she was holding on tightly she started to spread her legs into a straight horizontal line. Yubin held the pose a little, her arms hand to be locked for this and she put all her strength into maintaining the pose.

Make it real loud Put your hands up, make 'em touch, touch (A-P-P-L-A-U-S-E) Make it real loud Put your hands up, make 'em touch, touch

With a kick, she pulled her legs up and wrapped herself around the silk. It only took a little push before she grabbed onto the silk that the hoop hung from. Both her her arms and legs were wrapped around the silk now. Slowly she slid down until she was she was sitting on top of the hoop.  

So far it was going smoothly, she didn't pay attention to anyone's reaction. Her focus had to be on her presence and her moves. She wouldn't be too hurt if she crashed onto the pads below her but she'd be embarrassed. Taking a deep breath she used one hand to hold onto the silk while her other held onto the hoop. With ease Yubin lifted her legs into the air. For a second she steadied herself and finally her legs were in a v shape.

She started to move again, lifting her legs all the way into the air. Once again, she opened her legs they formed an horizontal line again. Taking her hands off the silk, she held it away from her body. It was if she was doing a single hand, hand stand. Again, Yubin held the pose before grabbing onto the hoop with both her hands. Slowly she brought both her legs down until she was sitting on top of the hoop.  

Once she had a good grip around the hoop with her legs, she reached her arms out towards the left silk. Using her body to move the hoop, once it rocked she started to fall forward. It might have looked scary but Yubin was completely in the zone, her body relaxed. Her hands caught the silk quickly, it only took a moment before she was moving again.

I live for the applause, applause, applause I live for the applause-plause, live for the applause-plause Live for the way that you cheer and scream for me The applause, applause, applause

In time with the beat, she spread her legs a little and started to swing her body. The move she swung, her legs went a little higher. As her she gain momentum she started to swing her legs closer together. At the word cheer, she swung both to the right of her. It had been nonstop movement as she twisted both feet in the air. With a small kick, she wrapped one leg around the silk with the other hung free. For a moment she tangled, one hand waving in the air as the other held onto the silk.  Her leg wrapped around the cloth acted as a balance and she spun around until she was able to right herself.

Give me that thing that I love (Turn the lights on) Put your hands up, make 'em touch, touch (Make it real loud) Give me that thing that I love (Turn the lights on) Put your hands up, make 'em touch, touch (Make it real loud)

Swinging, she grabbed onto the silk that held the hoop. Pulling them together, she slid her body into the silk with the hoop. The left silk swayed a little before going into place. Once she was settled on the silk, her back was facing everyone. Slowly she let one leg hang down, as she did that she moved herself down until she was sitting inside the circle. Slowly she started to lift her right leg as she leaned back a little her hands on the circle for support. Once she her leg half way twisted around the circle, Yubin leaned all the way back. Her left leg hung in the circle as she pulled her right arm in closer to her on the hoop.  After holding the pose, she brought down the leg that was twisted slowly, once both her legs were inside the circle, she pulled the top half of her body up.

For a moment Yubin, sat there her back was to those viewing but she see the camera would catch every angle, so she made sure her face reflected the song. She wanted praise, she wanted attention when she was preforming and this was it. Right now, above everyone else she was comfortable and confident.

And the highlight was still to come.

Ooh touch, touch ooh Touch, touch now ooh ooh ooh ooh

As the chorus came, she ducked her head under the hoop. Slowly the whole hoop started to swing and once she was close, she grabbed onto the the silks hanging behind it. Finally, she had both hands on the silks and pulled the rest of her body around it. Once the hoop swung back into place, she started to separate the silks. It was a feat to see, with one hand and her feet wrapped in the silk, she started to spin the other around her body.

After she put enough around her body, Yubin started to pull herself up the silk her arms were holding onto. Once she was in her perfect place, she paused.

I live for the applause, applause, applause I live for the applause-plause, live for the applause-plause Live for the way that you cheer and scream for me The applause, applause, applause

As the beat started to build back up, Yubin lossened her grip she had on the silk. Carefully, she losened the silk around her wasit. Her body was laid sideways, so her feet weren't caught in the silk she was holding. With one arm hanging by her side, she losened the grib she did have on the silk a little more.

Finally she started to unravel, it started off as a slow freefall. Once the beat started to build even more, she barely held onto the silk that was in her hand. The effect was instant her body started to fall at a rapid pace and her pony tail flew around wildy but there was nothing but pure confidence on her face.

She knew some people's faces might have looked worried but she didn't focus on looking at them.

Give me that thing that I love (Turn the lights on)

Just as the final beat hit and it looked like she would hit the mats under her, she stopped. As she was falling, while her hand wasn't holding onto the silk she started to twist her arm around it. The result was her body hanging vertical swaying a little. Her left arm still dangled while her right one had the silks twisted around and it was her only anchor at that point.

Once she had enough time to properly breath, she twisted her body and brought up her dangling arm. It only took a few seconds for her to pull herself up the silks. Once she was stable, Yubin started to swing it a little more. Once she was close enough, she transferred herself back to the hoop. Once she was settled on the inside the hoop and facing everyone there was only a smirk on her face.

It was almost the end of the song, and finally it felt like she could really breath. Just as the last chorus hit, Yubin lowered herself onto the silk seat hanging from the hoop. Once she was sitting down, she crossed one leg over the over the other, compeletly at ease.

A-R-T-P-O-P

Just like in the music video, she mimicked spelling out the word art pop with her hands on the beat. Her head dropped with the final 'p'. There wasn't any music now, so she paid attention. There was sweat trailing down her face and she knew that if she had let her head down, it would be sticking to her face.

This was it though, she ended her performance without laughing or making any major mistakes. Now, she had to wait to hear the final judgment. Yubin only hoped everyone enjoyed the show as much as she enjoyed preforming.

[justpeachy--keen]

Peach Blossom Clearwater -- Character Sheet

i was supposed to do great things / i knew the rules though / but i wasn’t raised to shoot for fame / i had the safety on / i cut my ties, i sold my rings / i wanted none of this / if you start from scratch, you have to sing / just for the fun of it

Archetype — The Creator Birthday — March 25, 2001 Zodiac Sign — Aries MBTI — ENTJ Enneagram — Type 7: The Enthusiast Temperament — Sanguine Hogwarts House — Ravenclaw Moral Alignment — Chaotic Good Primary Vice — Gluttony Primary Virtue — Diligence Element — Water

Overview:

Mother — Foster Mother: Angelica Martin; Birth Mother: Peony Cabrera-Rodriguez Father — Foster Father: Thomas Martin; Birth Father: Jesus Rodriguez Mother’s Occupation — homemaker/heiress Father’s Occupation — owned surf shop Family Finances — wealthy Birth Order — she was smack dab in the middle of her foster siblings Brothers —  Mark (17), Devon (16--birthday in December) Sisters — Rachel (13), Veronica (10) Other Close Family — None. Best Friend — Marta Tinney Other Friends — Patrick, Melanie, James, Malik Enemies — Georgia Pets — None. 5 foster children were enough. Home Life During Childhood — For an orphan, Peach was pretty lucky. She was never abused. Her first foster family kept her until she was eleven, even with her powers. The other kids teased her and she was a bit quiet and shy, but it wasn’t so bad. When she moved in with the Martins, she blossomed. They were a loving family and she thought that they might actually adopt her... Town or City Name(s) — Sydney, Australia! Born and raised--well, as far as she knows. (She was actually born in Rio de Janeiro and she likes to think she was born in Avalor.) What Did His or Her Bedroom Look Like — She shared with foster siblings. There weren’t a lot of things that were just hers, and she didn’t really get to decorate in her first home. In her second home, everything was pink, pink, pink! Any Sports or Clubs — Cheerleading, dance team, football, softball, she’s actually surprisingly sporty. She also loves to surf. Favorite Toy or Game — Clue was her favorite board game. She was wicked good at it. She also likes playing piano, her foster brother Mark taught her. Schooling — Public schooling, nothing special. Favorite Subject — Literature, definitely. Popular or Loner — Popular after she was in middle school, average amount of friends before that. Important Experiences or Events — being abandoned, changing foster homes, when she spied on her neighbor and found out they were doing very bad things!!, when her foster parents just gave her up without a second thought. Nationality — Australian Culture — ...Australian? (Barbies and the outback!!) Religion and beliefs — Kind of believes in “fate” and “destiny” more than anything else.

Physical Appearance:

Face Claim —  Camila Mendes Complexion — Tan skin, very smooth and pretty. Hair Colour — Black Eye Colour — Brown Height — 5’2 Build — Sporty, she’s got thick thighs and broad shoulders and strong arms because she does all sorts of dance and sports. Tattoos — None! Piercings — Ear piercings Common Hairstyle — Down, kind of wavy. But she’ll put it in a ponytail or pig tails or a little braid. Clothing Style — Very modern but vintage inspired so lots of knee socks and plaid skirts. That kind of thing. She wears headbands and pearls. Frilly blouses. But, she’ll also just rock t-shirts and high waisted shorts. It really just depends on the day, but she definitely keeps abreast of fashion trends (adding her own little twist to them.) Mannerisms — Quirks her mouth a lot when she’s thinking. Talks with her hands a lot, specifically claps them together or shoos people in her excitement. Loves to give high fives. Usual Expression —

Health:

Overall (do they get sick easily)? — Average. She gets colds a few times a year, but overall pretty healthy. Physical Ailments — None, she’s quite fit. Neurological Conditions — Uhh, none, really. She’s pretty fuckin’ sane, that’s weird. Allergies —  None! Grooming Habits — Takes very good care of her skin and hair. Shaves every day almost. Never leaves the house without make-up on. Sleeping Habits — She lowkey has a lot of trouble falling asleep, so she has a whole routine. And she says nighttime is when she does her best writing. Eating Habits — Eats pretty well, for the most part. But she also love, love, loves sweets. Eats a lot of candy and chocolate, for sure. Loves to bake. Exercise Habits —  Goes running, does pilates and yoga. Loves to play sports. Will try to get on the cheerleading team. Emotional Stability — Ummm. Honestly? Pretty good. She’s got some lowkey PTSD from the stuff she saw. And she’s got abandonment issues. Oh, also, she’s kind of a compulsive liar. Don’t believe anything she says really. Body Temperature — Average. Sociability — Very social. She doesn’t have the greatest social instincts though. She’s very good at reading people, but not at reading a situation, if that makes sense? Like she doesn’t always say the right thing, but she’s usually right about what she does say. Addictions — None. Uhh unless you count lying? Drug Use — Hasn’t done drugs!! (Yet) Alcohol Use — Got drunk once with her foster brothers. Devon tried to kiss her. It was really awkward.

Your Character’s Character:

Bad Habits — Lying. Creating a version of herself she thinks that people will like in order to gain status. Picking at her cuticles. Blurting out things that probably shouldn’t be said in mixed company. Good Habits — She’s really a great friend, very supportive. She’s super smart and analytical. Best Characteristic — Great friend, really. Worst Characteristic — Compulsive lying. Worst Memory — Her foster parents turning her away. Best Memory — “You know, it’s so much harder to think of bad memories than good memories, I wonder why that is?” - Something Peach has definitely written in her journal. Proud of — Her lying skills. Her writing. Her photography. Her dancing. Basically anything she creates. Embarrassed by — Her need to lie. Driving Style — She’d be a pretty good driver, too bad no one will teach her how to drive. Thomas was going to start in the spring, cry. Strong Points — Intelligent, analytical, clever, insightful, caring, curious. Temperament — Happy go lucky! Peach is one of those people who you will never see sad or angry if she can help it. Weakness — Getting tangled up in her own lies; wanting validation. Fears — People thinking she’s stupid or unworthy. Phobias — Minor arachnophobia. Not much else, she’s pretty fearless. Secrets — Who she is, basically everything about her, lol. Regrets — Having gotten caught spying on her neighbor and the whole mess she’s got herself in. Feels Vulnerable When — Someone catches her having an emotion that is not happy. Pet Peeves — uhm she tries not to have them, because that doesn’t go with her zen lifestyle. Conflicts — The fact she knows everyone would hate her if they knew she was lying to them. Motivation — To be admired. Short Term Goals and Hopes — Be admired, do well in school, make friends, explore. Long Term Goals and Hopes — Be a famous writer. Sexuality — Bisexual, probably? Mostly undecided. She probably thinks she’s straight but also knows sexuality exists on a spectrum. Day or Night Person — Day, or well, she wants to be day, but has insomnia that keeps her up late. Introvert or Extrovert — Extrovert. Literally got 100% extroverted on her Myers-Briggs. Optimist or Pessimist — Optimist. Aggressively an optimist.

Likes and Styles:

Music — Pop is her favorite genre. Yup, she’s definitely that girl, though she went through her #scene phase. But her faves are people like Katy Perry and Carly Rae Jepsen (it pains me to put those two next to each other, but to Peach, they’re one in the same.) She loooooves to dance, so anything that gets her moving is going to be what she likes to listen to. Though, she also loves to belt it out with Adele, etc. Books — Gosh, the better question is what books doesn’t Peach like? And the answer would be none! Because there is something to be gained from any book you read! She’s an avid reader, though she kind of keeps it on the down low. But you can’t be a good writer without reading! Magazines — Got to keep up with all the latest gossip! Peach loves all magazines, but she knows to take them with a grain of salt. At least, tabloids. She doesn’t really read things like the Times. Foods — Like I said above–Peach is a huge fan of candy. But, she also likes fruits a lot. Really anything sweet. Though she likes savory and spicy too. Basically, she isn’t particularly picky. She likes lollipops a lot and definitely can be seen eating them quite frequently. Drinks — She doesn’t really have a preference to what she drinks. She likes water. She likes lemonade, juices, soda pop. She’s tried vodka before and was not a fan, but she won’t admit that to anyone and definitely would try alcohol again. Animals — Peach loves anything cute! She’s not a fan of creepy-crawlies or snakes or anything like that or “ugly” does like hairless ones or ones that drool too much. She’s a little afraid of any like–super big animals too (like horses, GASP). One of the first things she’s going to do is buy a cat, even though that is really not advised… Sports — Peach loves sports! Playing them, anyways. She’s not really into watching them on TV, but she’ll definitely go to like--rugby games or football games. And she loves cheerleading, so she’ll probably be at all the games. Social Issues — Her social awareness is still developing but she does consider herself a feminist. Favorite Saying — “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” - Ernest Hemingway Color — Pink! Peach loves pink, always has. Yes, it’s “stereotypical” and “girlie” but she loves it. It makes her happy–the brighter the better, and she often can be seen wearing it. Whenever she’s in a bad mood, she puts on some pink and instantly feels a little better. She’s easy to please like that. Jewelry — Her pearl necklace. Her foster mother bought it for her when she turned sixteen. Websites — Tumblr. Instagram. Twitter. Facebook. She’s big into all the social media stuff. TV Shows — Game of Thrones. Once Upon a Time (yes she knows it is problematic, let her live.) Shows like Gossip Girl and The OC. Lost. Star Trek lowkey. Anything with good writing and/or an interesting concept. She’s a big binge watcher. Movies — Oh gosh. She likes a good mystery, that’s for sure. Also stories within stories (frame stories!!) like Moulin Rouge, Princess Bride, the Fall, and Singin’ in the Rain. But, she really does like anything with a good story. She’s also not one of those snooty “book is better than film” because she can understand the merits of both. Some of her favorite book adaptations are V for Vendetta, Water for Elephants, and the 2005 Pride and Prejudice. Greatest Want — To be appreciated. Greatest Need — To be loved.

Where and How Does Your Character Live Now:

Home — Castle Suites 42W Household furnishings — Modern and sparse, she didn’t want to spend too much money on them, but her apartment is decorated very cute. A few paintings on the walls and lots of throw pillows. Favorite Possession — Her pearl necklace. Most Cherished Possession — Her journals and notebooks. Neighborhood — Gated community. Town or City Name — Sydney, Australia Details of Town or City — It was Sydney, Australia. Married Before — None. Significant Other Before — None. Children — None. Relationship with Family — Nonexistent now. Car — None. Career — None, but she’ll probably have to get a job. Dream Career — A famous writer. Dream Life — A famous writer, that’s it, that’s all she cares about. Love Life — Nonexistent, but she’s hoping that’ll change. Talents or Skills — Good writer, dancer, singer, photographer; she is not too shabby at painting either. Not bad at surfing and a few other sports. Intelligence Level — Too smart for her own good. Finances — Her foster family was wealthy and they did spoil her.

Your Character’s Life Before Your Story:

Past Careers — None. She helped out at the surf shop sometimes. Past Lovers — None, her foster brother Devon was her first kiss. Biggest Mistakes — Spying on her neighbor. (Though, does she really regret it? No.) Biggest Achievements — She probably won writing contests in school and ones she sent out.