Title:           Gina
Author:          Anonymous
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/J4i0JrV9
First Edit:      Tuesday 2nd of September 2014 10:34:56 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Tuesday 2nd of September 2014 10:34:56 AM CDT

>be Garret
>have one of the greatest creative mothers in the entire world
>you snuck into her sowing room, where her works resided
>Mom always glared laser beams through you
>"Garret, there is only one rule here. Do. Not. Touch. My. Dresses."
"Yes, mom."
>for years, you'd looked at the door with fear coursing through your veins
>tonight, mom was in Canterlot with the rest of her friends discussing important business about trade between Ponyville itself and Itailia
>what Itailia wanted from Ponyville was beyond you
>what mattered was that it was just you and these clothes
>it was time to release Gina from hiding
>diving in, you shuffle through the clothing in search of everything you've ever wanted
>you spot a pair of stockings and grin excitedly
>you toss your clothing away, spare the pair of panties you wore for the occassion, and slip into the silk stockings
>it feels surreal
>you slide your hands up your thighs and shudder at the warmth and softness
>finding one of Rarity's famed dresses, you slide yourself in
>you locate a mirror and observe yourself
>turning this way and that, you feel many components are missing
>you grab the periwinkle lipstick from mom's work station, pursing your lips and applying it as you had seen from the crack in the bathroom door many a time before
>still, something is missing
>you snatch up the makeup kit and a brush, now becoming more frantic with your work
>applying the makeup as best you can, you run to the mirror again, the full picture starting to shape up nicely
>you brush your hair back gently, putting it in a neat ponytail
>yeah, this is the real Gina
>you're posing in the mirror when the door swings open
>"Goddamnit, Rarity. Always forgetting the simplest shit."
>looking up from the letter he read, your dad freezes in confusion and shock
>"...Garret...?"
"Father."
>"Uh... where's your mom's purple lipstick?"
>you hand it to him
"Periwinkle"
>he looks at you with worry
>"Is there something you wanted to tell me?"
"Get out."