there, you see her. sittin` there across the way. she don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her.



  • ^^Kiss the Girl || The Little Mermaid
    Elena Harrington; THPOE

    December 28th – 30th: Event: Feeling daring? Well if you are; meet up with your other cast members at the local tattoo parlor. We all love Disney, so why not get some Disney ink? Just make sure that you put it somewhere your costume will cover.

    Challenge: Make a set featuring the tattoo your character got (check @disney-dreaming’s items if you need ideas). If your character was too chicken to get a tattoo, make a set featuring what they did today instead.


    [[included; @larissa-xo
    tagging; @citylimitsxx and @vikkirose]]

    and ohmegosh, sierra is just too adorable.
    talking about les mis, phantom, lnd, & the little mermaid and fangirling over barbra streisand ^-^
    watch; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ePF6ea4wpI


    I think I may have been annoying everyone in a five foot vicinity of me with my constant tapping of my fingers on the table next to me.

    Sorry, it's a habit.

    "Wanna stop that anytime soon?" Gabriel asked me.

    I, in return, just rolled my eyes and continued tapping. Okay, sure it was to annoy him. It was kind of fun, and plus, lately he's been kind of an as-hole. We're supposed to be Bonnie and Clyde. The Dynamic Duo. And instead, all he's managed to do is tell me how much of a worrier I am and how I need to loosen up and sh-t.

    Um, excuse me, but I don't see you winning every competition either, Einstein.

    "Elena?"

    "What?!" I snap back, with perhaps a little too much attitude, because all I see when I turn my shoulder is Alexis with a half-worried look on her face and maybe a bit of discomfort.

    She takes about three seconds to recover and then smiles at me again, as if nothing ever happened. "So what tattoo are you thinking about getting?" she inquires.

    "An Ariel tattoo," I reply back. I know, totally obvious and such a given.

    But Alexis doesn't seem to show it. She coos happily and begs me to show her my sketch, which I oblige to.

    "I'm thinking of doing this little outline of Ariel. It's kind of minimalist and not too over-the-top and all the lines would be in the colors of Ariel. So, like, purple, green, red, and tan," I explain, pointing to my drawing.

    "Oh that's so clever! I love it," Alexis said.

    I genuinely smile at her and give her my thanks.

    "Have you ever gotten a tattoo before?" she asks after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

    I shake my head and answer no.

    "Are you afraid?" she asks next.

    Ah, there's the million dollar question.

    Of course I'm afraid. I'm deathly afraid. I'm afraid of the needles and of the blood and of the pain and of the fact that I may regret this later on in my life when I'm some 60 year old wrinkly woman with overly tanned crocodile skin and a raspy smoker's voice living in South Florida--as if that would happen, but still, it freaks me out.

    But I don't want anyone else to know this. I mean, I'm Elena-freaking-Harrington. I have guts and I'm not afraid of anything; not afraid of singing in front of thousands of people and not even crushing the hopes and dreams of everyone around me just to get what I want and deserve.

    I hate weaknesses. And this, alas, is my weakness. But I'm obviously not going to let anyone else know this.

    But I soon realize I must not have answered Alexis' question, because she's still staring at me with her Disney Princess doe eyes, waiting on bated breath.

    "Um, no. I'm not," I reply. My voice quavers slightly and I hope it doesn't give me away. But Alexis either doesn't notice or doesn't care, because she just nods and smiles at me.

    "I wanna be the first to see it when it's done," she says with another smile.

    I chuckle and nod my head. "Of course."

    I would have invited her to come with me and watch, but then I'd risk the chance of people actually seeing my possibly cry and that so was not going to happen.

    "Oh! You're next," she says, pointing to the tattoo artist who must have called my name. Of course, I didn't hear him.

    "Awesome," I try to say with a big smile and a huge amount of excitement, but I'm sure it sounds more like a question and a squeaky voice.

    Nonetheless, I stand up, gather my belongings, and grasp my tattoo drawing closely as I make my way toward the burly, intimidating tattoo artist.

    It was now or never, and since my name is Elena Harrington, there's no way in hell that I'm chickening out.

    Bring it on.

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