#princess charm school core

[apleiphone2]

feeling like an underpaid, hardworking, short overall wearing (or maybe an apron instead), cafe waitress with her hair tied up, saving every penny she earns for a dream she'll 'never' achieve becasue its just way too far fetched whose doubted by everybody but keeps on persisting anyway

[sarafinaparvez]

𝓐 𝓶𝓸𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓷 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓔𝓻𝓲𝓴𝓪 𝓪𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋🪞🐾

[pinkalluna]

We don't question how Barbie makes things out of nothing okay? My girl is perfect and she slays.

[ladywatereton]

Happy Birthday, Blair Willows💖

🎥 Barbie: Princess Charm School (2011).

🎶 I'm God, Clams Casino & Imogen Heap.

[ewesimmie]

Princess Charm school

[dolls-self-ships]

HIII i just wanna say that ur mario oc is so pretty :)) Do you mind telling us more about her and her backstory maybe??

first off, thank you so much!! I’m glad you think so ^^ and second off, I would love to!

So, for her backstory, it’s a bit muddled and blurry (a bit like Peaches but even more so lol), but as far as Callie knows, she’s also an Italian-American girl, nothing special. However, one day when the boys are exploring one of the kingdoms (again idk which one yet there’s so many in the Mario world and I’m still catching up on the lore 😭) they find a large mural that looks.. awfully similar to someone they know. They realize it looks exactly like Callie and of course, freak out, thinking it must mean something and that they need to bring her to the Mushroom Kingdom and ask Peach about it right now.

So, when they do, Callie thinks they’re both crazy of course, cue the Anastasia esc. plot of a plucky redhead being towed along by two men telling her she’s a princess.

But when she gets there and sees the mural she is absolutely floored, it does look an awful lot like her.. but to her it had to be a coincidence.

I think like Peach, she has mixed origins of potentially also being born from a star but looking like a human and ending up in the wrong world except it’s backwards where instead of ending up in the Mushrooms Kingdoms world, she ends up in Mario and Luigi’s.

But, it is eventually confirmed that she is, in fact, a lost princess of a kingdom in Peach’s world, and Callie is in disbelief because that’s so much responsibility all of a sudden completely put on her???? Mama mia.

But yee I love a lost princess plot so I thought this would be a good opportunity for that 😘👍🏻

[narcissisticbxtch]

"Trying once is easy, discipline is hard. But nothing can defeat me, if the change is in my heart."

~ On Top Of The World; Barbie, Princess Charm School xox

[egcdeath]

out in the open

pairing: patrick zweig x f!reader

summary: your wedding night doesn’t go as smoothly as you expect it to. succession au - tomshiv adjacent (previous parts: part 1, part 2, part 3)

word count: 8.8k

warnings: failmarriage, fluff in the beginning, cheating, angst, jealousy, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol and smoking, suggestive content, insecurity, patrick is kinda the worst in this. he does get better though.

author’s note: full disclaimer things are pretty angsty and they only get angstier from here. cheating is a major plot point from this point forward. there will be a few happier moments but it’s mostly bad vibes and tension from this point on.

i say this with every fic i post in this universe but i truly could not have written this without the help of my succession anon!! weddingnightgate (WNG) is such a big moment in this au and they really helped me get my thoughts in order and helped me world build. i hope you all enjoy the upcoming pain!

When you were young, you always dreamed about your wedding. You fantasized about a huge venue somewhere halfway around the world that would easily fit all of your closest friends and family members and of celebrity guests who would give you well wishes for the marriage and smiled at you in spite of their envy at your beautiful event. You imagined a gorgeous, intricate dress with a train so long that you’d need assistance going down the aisle, a cake the size of your tallest guest, and a groom who was as handsome as he was loving, pressing the promise of True Love’s Kiss onto your lips after he read you his vows.

Maybe your enthusiasm for weddings was fueled by a few too many movies where the princess found her prince charming and lived happily ever after with him, but you still fell in love with the idea of love, and the thought that a wedding should be as beautiful as the love itself was.

You would never forget the first wedding you attended, despite being so young that you shouldn’t have really recalled it. You somehow managed to worm your way into being the flower girl at your aunt’s wedding, skipping excitedly down the aisle of the beachside venue, tossing flowers with reckless abandon. As you watched the rest of the ceremony from the safety of your mother’s hip, you couldn’t help but to imagine yourself being the one to walk down the aisle someday. 

Much like your first wedding memory, you also couldn’t forget the first time you learned about divorce. Though you were young, the memory of your best friend crying next to you during recess as she sobbed out the news that her parents were splitting forever stuck out in your mind. You’d been fed the idea that love was strong and everlasting for so long, that the very notion that there were some things that love couldn’t withstand rocked you to your core. 

From that point on, you became more grounded in your approach to love. Love was rarely a fairytale, and it was naive for you to assume that your future wedding would be one either. 

As the years went by, you grew more realistic about your expectations for the future. You found a boyfriend who you dated throughout the latter half of your undergraduate years and through your time in business school, and fully expected to settle down with him—though you knew you’d be settling in the most literal sense. While he was a stable figure in your life, he was boring, and his aspirations in life for both you and himself didn’t align at all with what you saw yourself doing. He wanted a wife, and you wanted to make a name for yourself doing the work that was meaningful to you.

When he got down on one knee in front of you, you realized that you had two options in front of you: follow your own dreams or follow his. 

Naivety be damned, you chose yourself and never looked back. 

In your pursuit of making your non-love related aspirations come true, you abandoned all hope that your pipe-dream of a fantasy wedding would ever come to fruition. It occasionally felt like your hopes were incompatible—to be a successful businesswoman meant giving up all prospects of a romantic life. It seemed like everyone you encountered was put off by your lack of work-life balance, or wanted to hunt you for sport and turn you into a trophy wife. 

You’d practically given up all hope by the time you met Patrick, fully expecting to be able to use him for a brief fling and a connection to get into his family’s company. What you weren’t expecting was to find someone whose company you genuinely enjoyed, who understood you on a level you hadn’t experienced with anyone else, and a love that occasionally left you wondering if you were a protagonist in the movies you loved watching as a girl. 

If someone told you that years after meeting Patrick, that one day you would be gazing into his eyes with tears in yours as you listened to his vows, or telling him that you do take him to be your husband, to have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ‘till death did you two part.

Your wedding ceremony felt straight out of your girlish dreams, with Patrick’s beautiful family castle serving as the venue, paparazzi-worthy guests, a dress that felt like a direct product of your wildest imagination, and a groom that seemed to be as close to a prince charming as reality could get. 

You were on cloud nine throughout the ceremony, basking in every single moment. You felt like you were floating by the time you got to the reception, your brain in the clouds as you and your now-husband cut your massive cake and gave toasts. 

It was all a blur in the best way possible, your elation making what you thought might be an embarrassing moment of a first dance exciting, and the subsequent socializing with guests substantially more bearable. 

What was slightly less bearable was the speed at which you were separated from your husband, the two of you occasionally catching the others eye from across the room, but otherwise being separated from surprisingly demanding guests who wanted to wish you luck on your marriage or excitedly share how amazing they found the ceremony to be. 

Occasionally, you were able to squeeze in a brief moment with your spouse, bringing him a flute of champagne and momentarily pulling him away from an exceptionally chatty shareholder, but you seemed to be frequently whisked away from each other. 

After what felt like a lifetime apart from each other, you felt the familiar, comforting warmth of Patrick’s hand on your lower back as he approached you from behind. When he announced to the extended family members standing across from you that he needed a moment alone with you, you almost leapt with joy. Nothing seemed more appealing than a private conversation with him after a long night of socializing with friends and colleagues. 

It almost felt ironic that during an event that should’ve been focused on the two of you as a pair, you were separated and kept apart by people with business pitches and opposing interests, excited to hop onto whatever opportunity your union might bring them. 

Patrick took you by surprise as he led you up the stairs and to your bedroom. It seemed a little early to begin your wedding night festivities, but if he was really that enthusiastic about it, you were certain that you could share some of his excitement. 

“Thanks for getting us out of there,” you commented as you shut the door behind you. “So much for not talking about work at the wedding. I guess it’s too much to ask for one day to celebrate you being my husband before talking about the business again.”

You walked over to the vanity, preparing to touch up your makeup. You shot a glance over at your partner, who cautiously sat himself down on your bed, fidgeting with his hands as he did so. Not paying him any mind, you began to reapply your lipstick in the mirror and looked at his reflection, catching that he seemed to be in deep thought, but not thinking too much of it. It was probably something a shareholder told him. Maybe his sister was planning yet another attempt at a hostile takeover of the business. 

“Husband. Wow, you’re my husband now. That feels so crazy to say. Husband, husband, husband,” you mused, a ball of excited energy.  “Well, husband, what did you pull me in to talk about? Is it Sherry’s dress? It’s really hideous. I can’t believe she would wear something like that to our wedding,” you continued to ramble. “Or do you want a sneak peak of what I’ve got going on under this dress?”

You were shocked to find Patrick mostly unresponsive to your rapid words. He was never one to turn down the opportunity to gossip about his social circle or flirt with you. You pulled your attention away from yourself in the mirror and turned your head back to look at your husband, only to be met with a mostly unreadable expression, apart from the hint of a sad smile on his face. 

Suddenly, things didn’t feel so fun. For some unexplained reason, you felt a small pit appear in the depths of your stomach. While you didn’t know exactly what was wrong, something obviously didn’t feel right. There was no reason for your partner to be looking as unsettled as he did on his own wedding night. 

“You’re not having second thoughts already, are you?” you stood up and began to approach him from where he was sitting on the bed, making it more apparent to you that his brows were drawn together in what could only be the beginning of a frown. 

“Of course not,” he assured you, though guilt was written all over his face. You weren’t sure how you should interpret your husband looking like a child who just broke an expensive vase on your wedding night, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. “But I need to tell you something.”

“What?” you laughed nervously, the small pit that appeared in your stomach growing into a slightly larger pit. As much as you wanted to dismiss it as nothing, the heavy tension hanging in the air warned you that the odds of his confession being nothing were growing slimmer and slimmer with each passing moment.  

“Uh,” he paused as if he was considering his next words very carefully—almost as if he didn’t want to say them at all. You desperately wanted him to speak, rather than keep you hanging. With your nerves exponentially growing with every passing second, you began to feel like if he didn’t say anything soon, you might throw up all over your reception dress.  

“Patrick, please spit it out. You’re kinda scaring me,” you could already feel yourself growing upset, despite the fact that he hadn’t said a single word to indicate what was going on with him. Your heart quickened in your chest as you anticipated his next words, despite not having a clue about what might come out of his mouth.  

“We always said that if something happened, we could handle it like adults,” the statement was vague and simple, yet Patrick seemed to be choking it out. His cryptic message rattled around in your brain as you desperately searched for meaning in them. Before you could even begin to ask him what he meant, you registered the dismissive, callous language. 

Though he didn’t say it often, he had confused you with those very words before—the verbiage alarmingly reminiscent of what he told you before your bachelorette party, or when you brought up the lack of an infidelity clause in his prenup. 

If anything ever happened with anyone else, we could both handle it. We’re adults and we can handle things like adults.

Though his words were curious, you dismissed them at the time, never expecting that to be an issue. Of all of your problems with Patrick—his difficulty expressing his emotions, his complicated relationship with his family, his lack of experience in love—you never expected infidelity to be one of those problems. 

You swallowed, your saliva feeling thick and poisonous as it slowly crept down your throat. “Honey, what do you mean?”

Patrick didn’t speak, looking down at the pristinely folded sheets in front of him rather than at you. “I’m sorry,” was all that he managed to get out. 

You looked at Patrick blankly, waiting for him to tell you that whatever you were assuming wasn’t true or that he was pulling some sort of cruel prank on you. Instead, all you were met with was the sound of blood urgently rushing through your ears and the faint bassline of whatever song the DJ was playing at your reception. 

“You know that love is complicated for me,” he looked in your direction, but couldn’t sustain eye contact with you. “Can we be adults about this?”

Once it became clear to you what exactly Patrick was trying to tell you, your knees gave out on you, the rest of your body overwhelmed with the unfathomable information that your brain was trying to process. Patrick cheated on you—and he was telling you just hours after you got married. 

The truth of the situation sucked the air right out of your lungs and the strength right out of your body. Your knees buckled under you, and you desperately seeked out anything you could sit on. You settled on the foot of the bed, across from where your husband nervously sat. 

“Fuck,” you dug the palms of your hands into your eyes, surely smudging the makeup on your eyelids as you attempted to collect your thoughts. “Who was it?”

“It didn’t mean anything to me,” he pathetically attempted to explain away. It all sounded like gibberish to you. For all you knew, your husband was speaking a totally different language to you. 

Despite your question and Patrick’s non-answer, you somehow felt like you knew exactly who he’d been with. The answer was all over his discomfort when he saw you talking to the woman without him by your side, and the way she sized you up and attempted to psych you out of marrying Patrick not even 24 hours ago. 

“Was it Tashi?” you asked, not even listening to his empty words and keeping your face frighteningly neutral. You spoke the words like you were playing a round of Guess Who, calm and even despite the budding feeling of dread in your stomach. 

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. His deafening silence was answer enough

“Can I kick her out?” you asked with an alarmingly stable tone, still mostly unable to process this information, but knowing that it wasn’t good. 

“Yeah,” he replied quietly, head still hung and unable to make eye contact with you. 

As you took in the truly depressing sight in front of you—your husband’s hunched over posture, a shame so strong that he couldn’t even look at you, and his clipped, short answers—you couldn’t deny that you were tempted to comfort him. In any other situation, if Patrick was feeling a fraction of the negative emotion he seemed to be feeling in that moment, you would instantly be at his side, holding his hand reassuringly or holding him close in a way that told him that if no one else was there for him, you would be, but you weren’t sure you could legitimize his bad behavior with such a response. 

Instinctually, you reached out to touch him like you’d done a thousand times before, giving him a hug before a big event or spooning him after a family member said something that got under his skin, but you instantly reprimanded yourself. Despite how sad he looked, Patrick was the one who hurt you. You were the one who deserved comfort. 

You opted to pat Patrick’s back instead, a strange and impersonal action. For a moment, you felt less like his wife and more like a practically estranged family member, not sure how to greet you after meeting you for the first time three Thanksgivings ago. 

Your husband barely reacted to the stiff action, only looking at you wordlessly with glossed-over eyes. You got up from the foot of the bed and left wordlessly and neutrally, a robot whose only orders were to get out of the bedroom and shut the door behind you. 

The moment the door closed, the next goal settled into your mind—you couldn’t let Tashi spend another second in the venue, socializing with your family and drinking the wine that your parents so kindly provided to the wedding, as if she hadn’t been partaking in an affair with your husband. 

You felt half a bride and half a zombie as you left the confines of the bedroom and wandered the hallways. You were stone faced as you made your way back to the reception, trying to wrap your head and heart around devastating information that was shared with you at the most inopportune time possible. 

You made a slow march down the stairs, movement hindered by your dress, and imagined what you might say to Tashi once you saw her. You should’ve known something was off from the start. You should’ve trusted the bad feeling you had when she sized you up at the bar, smirking at you like the cat who got the cream before feeding you anecdotes about how sleazy your husband used to be for no apparent reason. You should’ve trusted that feeling when Patrick rushed over to pull you away.

You wished you paid attention when Patrick faintly smelled of feminine perfume when you surprised him by coming back from a business trip earlier than anticipated, or when you noticed a bracelet that didn’t belong to you sitting on your coffee table, one that disappeared the very next day. It was so easy to write the signs off at the time–the fragrance of your personal chef and the jewelry of one of his sisters–but it no longer felt that simple. Patrick was a lot of things, but you never expected that a cheater was one of those things.

The thought of Patrick with someone else made you nauseous, especially in your own home. You faintly wondered if they’d fucked in your bed or on the couch. If the answer was yes to either, you desperately wanted to burn the pieces of furniture. In fact, that would be the first thing you set out to do when you returned home after your honeymoon. Maybe you would even beg Patrick to move to a new place, one not haunted by the memories of him and another woman. 

That was, if your relationship even survived through the honeymoon. Let alone the night. You didn’t have a clue what your next steps would be. Would you be the fool who stays with a man who proved himself to be disloyal? Or would you be the fool who offered herself to the wrath of one of the most powerful families in the world? You would lose your husband, your job, and your livelihood in one fell swoop, surely being banished back to your family home in Minnesota, destined to be a receptionist at your father’s law firm for the rest of your life. 

The entire situation felt surreal in the worst possible way. You couldn’t believe that while you were dealing with the aftermath of this information, Tashi was waltzing around at your reception. More than that, you couldn’t believe the information itself: Patrick cheated. Your fiancé cheated. Your husband cheated on you. 

The same Patrick who became a groomzilla, laser-focused on giving you your dream wedding, cheated. The same man who confessed that he didn’t know what love felt like before he met you cheated on you. Your husband, who went out of his way to do anything to make you happy, even at the expense of his very powerful family, hadn’t been loyal to you. 

None of it made sense. Maybe you would walk back into the room and your guests would jump out from behind tables and reveal that this was all a cruel joke—a little hazing as you officially became a Zweig—their laughter filling up the room at the thought that you would ever believe something as ridiculous as Patrick cheating on you. 

You bit back bile as you walked into the room, the party continuing on the same way it had before you left and before you reentered—no prank to be found. The cacophony of loud music and the chatter of your guests filling your ears once more—what felt fun and exciting just moments before, now being far too overstimulating for someone trying to process information that could fundamentally alter the course of their relationship. You did your best to block out all of the extra noise and focus on your goal at hand. 

Find Tashi. Send her home.

You weren’t sure what you would actually do when you saw her. Would you yell at her? Slap her for being a homewrecker? Cry at the sight of her? Laugh at the absurdity of your husband telling you that he’d been having an affair with her on your wedding night?

Peripherally, you heard someone call your name excitedly, only slightly pulling you out of your trance. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to acknowledge whatever excited friend or family member as your eyes set on your target. Tashi Duncan, Patrick’s coworker and ex-girlfriend.

Where you admired her beauty and confidence just a day before, you found you now resented every positive aspect about her. As she stood by a table and talked to one of Patrick’s sisters, surely bored out of her mind by the delusional ramblings about his sister someday being the president, she nodded and smiled diplomatically. 

As you really began to think about it, you realized that she was the perfect candidate to be Patrick’s wife. She came from a background similar to his, his sisters liked her far more than they liked you—though that didn’t mean much—and physically, she seemed to be exactly your husband’s type. 

Part of you wondered if she was feeling as miserable as you were; if she’d spent the day imagining your wedding to be her own, if her own jealousy was blinding her the way that yours currently was blinding you, or if she’d begged Patrick not to marry you during their work meeting the previous night. The other part of you wondered if she thought of you as pathetic as you currently felt—a stupid woman so blinded by her own love that she overlooked every beaming, bright red flag.

Your pace quickened as you walked towards Tashi, heels clicking annoyingly as they marked your pace. As you made your way to the table, you found yourself growing more anxious, the first real feeling you’d felt since Patrick shared with you the truth about his infidelity.

“Hey,” you greeted Tashi and Patrick’s sister, voice surprisingly even for how agitated you were. “Mind if I chat with Tashi?” 

“Go ahead,” Cornelia shrugged. “Let’s stay in touch?” she asked Tashi, who politely agreed and watched the other woman walk off. 

Tashi opened her mouth to speak to you, presumably to comment on something asinine about the wedding, or to make an observation about your wedding that you’d already heard a thousand times that night. If you weren’t so upset, you would make a bet with yourself on whether she’d tell you how beautiful the wedding was, or how beautiful you and your husband looked at the altar.

“Your housing for the night fell through,” you explained in a very level tone. It wasn’t the best excuse, but it was what came out of your mouth.

“Oh?” she asked, sounding more than a little skeptical, before lifting her drink to her lips. “Do you know where else I might be able to find lodging at this hour?”

“No,” you replied quickly and with ease. “Actually, it’d probably be best if you just went home now.”

“Home like…?” she trailed off and eyed you curiously. 

“Like back to New York. I’m sure you can find a flight.”

She laughed in slight disbelief. “You realize this is a work function for me, right? I have work to do.”

“I’m sure you can do that work back home,” you dismissed, not backing down. By now, it was clear that Tashi was putting together the pieces of what you knew. In fact, you could pinpoint the exact moment when it occurred to her why the two of you were having this conversation in the first place.

Maybe it was the lack of your now-husband beside you, or the barely concealed emotion on your face. Regardless of what was your biggest tell on the situation, you continued to stare her down, resenting the way her lips shifted into a small smile, as if she still had the upper hand and knew something that you didn’t. It was almost as if she found the whole ordeal to be a little amusing, which only bothered you more. 

“No need to make a scene at your wedding. I’ll be on my way.” She lifted her glass up once again to finish the drink off, but you stopped her. 

You returned intense eye contact with her as you took the stemware right out of her hands and put it to your own lips, finishing the drink in a few large gulps. Though your action was impulsive, it felt like somewhat of a necessity. You desperately needed the liquid distraction from your less-than-ideal situation, and you didn’t want to give her an excuse to linger at your party a single moment longer than she needed to. 

She continued to stare at you, her expression somewhere in the middle of being impressed and weirded out. “Alright then. Well, congratulations on the wedding.”

“Fuck off,” you spat out, turning on your heel and walking away without bothering to see if she stayed or left. 

You made your rounds around the reception, smiling and talking to your guests with a fake smile plastered on your face. The shock of Patrick’s initial confession wore off shortly after you told Tashi off, but you still couldn’t help but feel completely numb to the situation. How else were you supposed to react when you found out the love of your life was sleeping with someone else? 

You continued to man the reception on your own, occasionally scanning the room but not catching a glimpse of your husband. You wondered if he was still in your bedroom, head in his hands as he wondered if he just opened a Pandora’s box on your relationship, or if Tashi went to go find him to discuss how poorly you reacted to the information. For all you knew, the two of them could be laughing at you or having sex in your wedding bed at the same time that you attempted to pretend that everything was perfectly fine. You grew faint at the mere thought. 

Eventually, you felt a familiar hand on the small of your back, something that typically was a welcome, comforting gesture. Instead, you wanted to flinch away from his hand like it was hot. You couldn’t believe that Patrick had the nerve to touch you like everything was fine after dropping such devastating information on you. Then again, at least he wasn’t hooking up with Tashi one last time. 

Still, even under the spell of a sadness that hadn’t quite settled in yet, you leaned into his touch instinctively. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t feel as comfortable as it did a few hours ago. 

“Such a beautiful ceremony,” a family friend of Patrick’s gushed to you. “You two have something really special.”

You felt Patrick’s eyes sear into you, desperately pleading for you to look back into them and show him that everything was going to be okay. That what you had was special enough that you’d be able to move past this. Like adults, as he said to you earlier.

You weren’t so sure that you could. 

The rest of the night moved painfully slowly. Where the two of you socialized separately before his private conversation with you, he seemed to be attached to your hip now, bringing you apology offers of champagne flutes and hor d'oeuvres.

Though he pleaded with you to handle your situation like adults, you wanted to act more like a petulant child. If you had it your way, you would reject his offerings of food by tossing them onto the floor, or throw a glass of sticky alcohol in his face as if you were a Real Housewife. 

If you had it your way, Patrick wouldn’t have cheated on you in the first place, and you’d be celebrating your wedding without the baggage of uncertainty for the future of your relationship. 

As you walked through the reception, you weren’t particularly angry or sad, you just felt numb. There was a strange concession in knowing that what happened in the past already happened, and that there was no way for you to change your husband’s behavior. For a moment, you wondered if the numbness was a symptom of the shock that was Patrick’s confession, or you would feel the dull thud of nothingness for the rest of your life. 

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding as you watched the last of your guests filtered out of the venue, relieved to finally drop the façade of being a happy newlywed and to embrace the true feeling of shock that had been biting at you all night.  

Somehow managing to break away from your suddenly very clingy spouse, you wasted no time gathering an unopened bottle of wine for yourself, along with a cigarette and a lighter, which you unceremoniously exchanged with a caterer for a Venmo payment. You then headed outside to a balcony that overlooked a beautiful sprawling garden. 

You looked out on the neatly trimmed hedges and the bench where you sat with Patrick not even twenty-four hours ago and distantly thought about how perfectly the night should’ve gone. You got married at a beautiful venue, had every detail down to the positioning of napkins meticulously planned, and most importantly, were marrying someone you genuinely loved and couldn’t see yourself living without. 

It was all rather devastating now, to see how just a few words managed to ruin what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. 

You took a swig from the bottle, lamenting the fact that his affair partner had been drinking this very wine earlier that night. At the thought of Tashi, you took yet another hefty swig. 

Just as you reached for the lighter to light the cigarette you so desperately needed, Patrick burst through the doors of the balcony, slightly out of breath and sweat beading on his forehead. In between his heavy breaths, you swore you caught a sigh of relief. 

You couldn’t say that you were pleased to see him—after all, you’d escaped to the balcony to get a little time alone and to think through the night—but as you took in his dramatic entrance and disheveled appearance, it became abundantly clear to you that he’d been urgently looking for you. 

“Want some?” you asked, gesturing to the bottle. Your question was more than just an offer for a drink, but a peace treaty, offering Patrick to stay outside with you despite your more complicated feelings towards him. 

“Sure,” he agreed, still slightly out of breath. He collected himself as you passed him the bottle, locking eyes with you as he took a swig from the expensive drink. It felt like time moved a little slower as you watched his lips wrap around the opening of the bottle and the way his Adam's apple bobbed while the drink went down. 

You suddenly realized that complicated didn’t even begin to cover how you felt towards Patrick. You loved him more than anything, and you were sure that you needed him in your life—but beneath the thick layers of numbness was a reservoir of hurt, far deeper than you ever imagined you could harbor for the man. 

He passed the bottle back to you, his hands gently brushing over yours. Momentarily, you felt scandalized by the action, unsure if you should feel your cheeks heating up from the small touch or if you should flinch away from it. By the time the brief moment was over, you hadn’t done either, electing to set your gaze back over the rail instead of at your partner. 

Patrick stood silently beside you, not requesting anything more to drink or even attempting to make small talk. It seemed that he was just as aware as you were that he’d changed your entire dynamic with just a few words. You wondered if he realized just how much he’d fucked both of you by fucking someone else. 

You shivered in the cold night, your dress not providing you much coverage in the elements. If your wedding night had gone any differently, Patrick would’ve offered you his suit jacket, draping the item over your shoulders and kissing you sweetly. Then again, if the night had gone differently, you likely wouldn’t be shivering on the balcony in the first place. 

You squatted to set down the bottle on the ground and rediscovered the cigarette and lighter. Though you weren’t usually one to smoke, you desperately needed it after the shitshow that was your wedding night.  

Though you put the stick to your lips, you struggled to light the cigarette, the frigid breeze making everything slightly more difficult. It didn’t help that you hadn’t smoked since you were a teenager, giggling with your friends as you clumsily attempted and failed to light up the stick, the match pinched between your fingertips quickly burning down. The contrast between the silly memory and your far less silly reality felt jarring, to say the least.  

“Here, let me,” Patrick said softly, taking the lighter from you and cupping his hand around the tip of the cigarette. You tried not to look at him too closely as you listened to the soft clicking sound of the lighter. Though he should’ve focused on the action so he didn’t burn his finger tips or the palm of his hand blocking the wind, he didn’t seem to be able to look at anything but you. The light of the flame briefly illuminated both of your faces, momentarily giving you a better look at his sad eyes. 

You inhaled as the flame touched the tip, and turned your head to exhale the smoke, not wanting to blow it in the face of your partner or have to spend another second under the scrutiny of his intense eye contact.

Even as you looked away and into the garden below, you could feel Patrick’s eyes burning into you. You were sure that if you looked back over at him, you would see him looking particularly downtrodden, lips parted for words that were on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t quite say yet, and eyebrows drawn together in a way that only seemed to highlight the sadness in his eyes. 

Unspoken questions lingered in the air like the smoke from the cigarette dangling from your lips. Though you didn’t care for the smell, you were pretty sure you preferred the smoke to the questions. 

Finally, a quiet question was spoken into the air,  “Can I?” Patrick asked, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips. 

“Sure,” you replied noncommittally as you pulled the cigarette away from you and passed it to your husband. Electing to watch him instead of the unchanging garden, you observed as Patrick’s lips closed over the space where yours had just been, covering the hint of a lipstick stain that you’d left on it. After a long drag, he passed the cigarette back to you, his hand brushing softly over yours once more as you did so. 

This pattern continued, a heavy silence falling between the two of you as you shared the cigarette, your hands caressing the other’s softly.

“Here,” you murmured as you approached the filter. Instead of passing it back to Patrick, you brought it up to his lips, watching him intently as he breathed in the smoke. 

For a moment, all you could see was his face, illuminated by the burning end of the cigarette, pupils blown with something you couldn’t quite place. You weren’t sure if you wanted to ravish him right there on the balcony or push him off of it.

He blew the smoke right back into your face, electing to still share the last of the cigarette with you. You wondered if that meant anything. It probably didn’t. 

The two of you stood looking at each other, staring wordlessly as you waited for the other person to move a muscle or say something—anything. For a moment, you considered telling Patrick that you wanted an annulment. But then again, that wasn’t exactly the truth. 

“I’m going to bed,” you broke the silence with your announcement. “I need to change out of this dress.”

You wished it were that simple. You desperately wanted to scrub the day off of you and to pinch yourself until you woke up. Surely, this couldn’t be your actual wedding night. Maybe you could wake up in the morning and find that this was all a bad dream—the manifestation of anxiety before your big day.

But, as Patrick trailed behind you in the hallway as if you would disappear if you left his sight, you were pretty sure that this was the reality. You wouldn’t wake up and find that your husband had been loyal to you. 

Your return to the room was a silent one. The moment you stepped foot through the door, it felt like you were back in that horrible moment; like Patrick was moments from revealing to you that Tashi was the tip of the iceberg. 

Bile rose in your throat once more. You made a beeline to the bathroom, hoping that the change of scenery might halt your thoughts altogether. 

You stepped out of the bathroom with an entirely different mindset than what you had as you entered. Sure, your wedding night wasn’t at all what you expected it to be, but it didn’t mean that you couldn’t put it back on the right track. In the bathroom, you slipped on a silky nightie, what you hoped would be a reminder to both of you that this wasn’t any old regular night, but your wedding night. Though, with the day you just had, you weren’t so sure that either of you would be up for a particularly romantic night. You guessed it couldn’t hurt. 

You left the bathroom as a woman on a mission, your eyes set on Patrick as you crossed the bedroom floor to get to him. Though he’d been laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling like it had the secrets to the universe written on it, the sound of your entrance drew his attention over to you. You gently bit your lower lip and hoped that your face said ‘sexy’ rather than ‘so nervous you might be sick.’

His eyes stayed locked on you as you crawled into bed, and you hoped once more that the action of you moving towards him on your hands and knees didn’t appear as desperate as you felt on the inside. 

It felt like your evening consisted of one desperate plea after another: Please don’t do this to me. Please just pretend that everything’s fine. Please don’t leave me. 

He followed your lead as you trailed your hand up his arm and looked at him as seductively as you could manage before pushing him down onto the bed and straddling his lap. Distantly, you wondered how Tashi imitated things with him—if she did anything that Patrick liked more about her than you. You did your best to push that thought away, but failed miserably. 

Mechanically, you ran your hands through his hair and kissed him passionately. You tried to ignore the lump in your throat and reminded yourself that it was just Patrick. Things weren’t all that different, except for the fact that he was your husband now—and that he cheated on you.

You tried once more to push that thought out of your mind as you moved your hips against his lap, but your attempts were in vain. It certainly didn’t help that as you kissed him, you tasted the cigarette you shared earlier in his breath—an unwelcome reminder of the awkward tension that lingered between the two of you after he shared the truth about his infidelity. And surely, it was just your mind, but his lips almost tasted like the chapstick of another woman. 

Suddenly, all you could think about was Tashi with your husband. Him and Tashi in your bedroom, or in a hotel room, or on your couch. Did she do anything special that drove him crazy? What did she have that you didn’t? 

Your body said one thing, but your brain said something completely different. You did your best to power through the thoughts of your husband being with another woman, but you were beginning to realize that when it came to cheating, you weren’t all that tough. You bit down on Patrick’s lip in what you hoped would be a light nibble, but the taste of iron quickly filled your mouth. 

You slowed down your movements as your thoughts sped up before you gave up entirely. You supposed it was a classic case of mind over matter, and your mind was not nearly as strong as any of your physical urges. 

You shifted off of Patrick far later than you should’ve, feeling like a complete and utter failure. You couldn’t even do the one thing you should’ve been able to do during your wedding night. No wonder he found solace in someone else’s body. 

“I’m sorry,” you said weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

It took you rolling off of Patrick to realize that his face was damp, eyes glossy with a thin layer of tears threatening to fall. The pit in your stomach that had been steadily growing since Patrick pulled you aside to tell you something finally came to a head when you realized that your husband was crying.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked, his voice cracking on the last syllable of his question. 

A fresh tear rolled down his cheek, which was then followed by a few other droplets. He turned his head away from you and wiped them away quickly so you wouldn’t notice them, but the damage was already done. 

You’d never seen Patrick cry before—not when you watched sad movies that left you bawling, not when the two of you watched advertisements for puppies in shelters, not even when he thought his dad might be dying. To see him shed tears over you felt particularly unsettling. 

“Patrick?” you said his name softly, like he was delicate and going to break. 

“I should be the one who’s sorry,” he looked towards you once more, eyes now rimmed with red. “I ruined everything already. I'm so sorry.”

This was a complete wild card on top of a stack of wild cards. If someone told you that your wedding night would end with your husband telling you he cheated on you, a pathetic failed attempt at sex, then watching your partner cry for the first time in front of you, you would’ve laughed in their face. 

His crying continued, becoming slightly more intense as sorrow racked through his body. You’d never been in a situation like this before, so you were completely unsure of what to do. 

With all prior restraint to show him physical affection gone, you awkwardly slotted your arms around your husband. He automatically leaned into you, burying his face in your shoulder as he continued to shed quiet tears. Your shoulder quickly grew damp as you threaded your fingers through his curls, the repetitive petting being just as soothing for you as it was for him. 

Despite it all, you still felt a general sense of nothing at all. You were beginning to grow concerned, knowing that deep down there were certainly emotions that weren’t ready to approach the surface. You worried about what it might look like once those feelings finally came out, but that was the least of your worries when it came to your weeping husband. 

Patrick continued to cry quietly, the only sound in the room being his soft, occasional sniffles. You couldn’t even place how you felt or how long you sat there stone faced as you cradled your husband. 

Eventually, the tears on your shoulder dried and the intervals between sniffles grew further and further. Soon, the soft sounds of weeping turned into the long and deep breaths of rest. Between you playing with his hair and holding him, he must’ve fallen asleep. You couldn’t really blame him—given your eventful day, your all-nighter the previous day, and the energy it took for him to cry. 

You gently laid Patrick back down on his side of the bed, pulling a blanket over his chest and pushing back the hair on his forehead to press a kiss to him. He stirred slightly against the forehead kiss, but didn’t seem to wake up all the way. Even when your feelings were complicated towards the man, you couldn’t help being affectionate towards him. In some ways, you felt like you needed that affection just as much as he did. 

You let out a long sigh as the reality of everything truly began to set in, and you no longer had to be strong for your weeping partner. You couldn’t wrap your head around the sight of Patrick crying for the first time, or the fact that he cheated on you. You flicked off the bedside lamp, the only source of light in your otherwise darkened bedroom. 

You rolled over in bed and laid on your back, setting your hands on your stomach and staring up at the ceiling. You traced your eyes over the pattern of the ceiling, though it was dark and not all that clear. You wondered if you looked at it long enough, if you’d be able to make some sense out of it. You glanced over at Patrick and wondered the same thing. 

You just couldn’t understand why he’d cheat on you. You’d always been under the impression that he was just as happy in your relationship as you were. Despite his promiscuous past, he never seemed like the type of person to not be loyal to you.

You noticed a teardrop trail down his cheek in his sleep, and you gently thumbed it away. The small movement turned into you tracing a line down his nose and over his lips, then over his eyebrows and back down through the few freckles that dotted his face. Maybe if you watched him long enough, if you learned every detail of his face, someone would reveal to you why he’d done something so illogical and cruel. 

You worried about how the two of you could move forward from something like this. Though Patrick always approached the topic of infidelity with a dismissive attitude, cheating had always been a deal breaker for you in your past relationships. It shattered your trust in a way that was so foundational, you couldn’t fathom a world where your relationship with Patrick stayed exactly the same after this. 

Part of you knew already that moving forward, you’d constantly wonder if he was genuinely working late or if he was having an affair, or if his eye was wandering at events despite you standing by his side. And that was just trust when it came to relationships—obviously his lie was far deeper than just that. Now, you knew that Patrick had the capacity to hold a secret that massive from you, then share it at the worst possible time. 

In fact, his timing felt so terrible that you momentarily wondered if it was some sort of power play. Was Patrick trying to remind you that you weren’t equals in this partnership? Was he trying to manipulate you by only sharing this information to you after you were married to him and couldn’t easily call everything off? 

Your stomach turned at the possibility that Patrick wasn’t really who he said he was, and that you’d been baited and switched. You recalled the first time you met Patrick’s family, how he switched on a dime and became far more calculated and cruel to them than you’d ever seen him be with you. Was that the realest version of your husband, and the person he was with you just a façade? Was this some sort of long game he was playing with his family to piss a few people off? Did Patrick even love you?  

For the first time in your relationship, you felt like you didn’t know who you were sleeping next to. Surely, this couldn’t be the same Patrick who you set out to have a quick hook up with, and ended up talking to him for hours. It couldn’t be the same Patrick who held you tight at night and gave you kisses every morning in your kitchen. The same Patrick from your vows a few hours ago, whose hands shook as he read from notecards and declared his love for you.

You frowned as you looked over Patrick once more. You resented how he was able to sleep so peacefully after inflicting such hurt on you. Did he even understand how destroyed you were? You couldn’t see yourself sleeping through the night in the foreseeable future, your head too filled with questions about your relationship and questions about his relationship with her. Would they continue the affair? Would they still work together after this, leaving you to wonder for the rest of your life if they were still going behind your back?

You desperately wished the thoughts would stop, but they kept coming, punctuated by the sounds of Patrick’s soft snores behind you. 

By the time the sun began to peek through the blinds, your hand was on Patrick’s face once again. You wondered how it was possible for him to hurt someone he loved as much as he loved you, if his definition of love was so skewed by a lifetime of abuse labeled as love from his parents, and siblings who used cruelty as a form of affection. 

Maybe you should’ve listened to the warnings everyone gave you, from your parents who warned that your husband and his family may be more than you bargained for, from his sisters who never seemed to be able to fully wrap their head around Patrick committing to someone, let alone you. Maybe you should’ve even listened to Tashi’s coded warning about his inability to commit and stay loyal. It seemed like everyone saw the fate of your relationship coming except you. 

With the early morning light illuminating the room, things felt a little clearer for you. Beneath the numbness that protected you the previous night was a more painful undercurrent of hurt that was already beginning to eat away at you. 

For the past several years of your life, you hadn’t had to deal with any painful feelings on your own. Patrick was always there beside you to hold you tight and reassure you that everything would be okay. As you laid next to him, you realized that despite all the pain he’d inflicted on you, all you really wanted was to be held by him. 

Knowing that he was sleeping peacefully beside you, you opted to hold him, draping your body over his and pulling yourself as close as you could manage to him. You leaned your ear against his back, taking in the warmth he gave you and listening to his heart beat. As the two of your breaths and heartbeats began to match the other’s pace, you lamented that even now, your hearts beat as one. 

For the first time that evening, your eye prickled with the threat of tears. 

You lost track of how long you held your husband, but it was long enough to notice the pattern of his breath changing. You’d woken up beside him enough times to recognize that he was clearly awake, yet he made no other indication to you that he was awake. He wanted you to hold him. You wondered if he thought this might be the last time you ever do that for him. You wondered if it was the last time you’d ever do that for him. 

The two of you pretended to be asleep despite the fact that you were both obviously awake, but no one commented on anything. After your arms began to grow numb, you turned your back to Patrick, hoping that he would return the favor and give you what you really wanted. You were pleased to find that he just as eagerly wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and breathing quietly in your ear. 

The two of you sat in complete silence, pretending you didn’t know what the other person was doing. Somehow, it felt like that was about to become a recurring theme in your relationship.

[exactlycleverpirate]

Timeline from Xavier's Perspective Part 1

EDIT: This has been updated to include the endings of all myths as well as some other information.

(Includes spoilers for basically everything, including all myths.)

This is an update of my earlier post. Part 2 here.

If you are interested in more speculation than facts, check out my Half-baked Theories and Wild Theories About Rafayel. For an in-depth exploration of Rafayel’s story, see What Happened to Lemuria and Rafayel and Rafayel's Timeline Redux Part 1. For current game story see Love and Deepspace: the Story So Far Part 1.

Timeline from Xavier's perspective (Part 1/Philos):

Xavier is born on Philos. He is the Crown Prince of the royal family. Life is connected to the core of Philos, making him and most people on Philos immortal while the planet remains. Philos has a fake core that is holding together the separate tectonic plates of former Earth. Travel between these plates is difficult (no oceans?).

214 PT (Philos Time) Xavier went to school with MC in year 214, which is 214 years after the destruction of earth. MC has a fatal heart condition. Some of the professors lived on Earth before its destruction. Xavier is under constant guard and has little freedom. (Anecdote 3)

217 PT MC and Xavier become friends and fall in love. She gives him the star charm tassel that she made.

Xavier finds out MC is dying. They go on a date to see a meteor shower by a salt flat. After this, Xavier disappears for a month.

MC escapes the hospital to go to the salt flat. Xavier finds her there and has the protocore that is supposed to be able to save her, but it is too late. She dies in his arms. Xavier promises to seek her out in her future lives.

Zayne's Myth. Zayne guards the Creatio protocore in a frozen tower as a Foreseer of Astra. The royal family sends him emissaries seeking a prophecy every 100 years, but they never return. MC is a gardener with a fatal heart condition and is seeking the Creatio protocore to save her life. (Is this the same protocore that Xavier found in her first life on Philos?) Zaybe says if she can make the jasmine on the balcony of the Tower bloom, she can go free.

MC and Zayne have been stuck in a loop, where MC seeks out the Creatio to heal her dying heart, Zayne falls in love with her, she dies, his memories are erased (but preserved as fragments in an illusory jasmine garden), and she is reincarnated to do it all again. This is happening because of some sort of resonance link between MC and the Creatio, which makes it so the Creatio can power itself by draining her life.

After the jasmine on the tower blooms, Zaybe remembers what has happened to them in the past. Zayne breaks the cycle by fusing the Creatio to MC's heart, healing her. He is then locked in an eternal slumber in the Tower of Thorns behind an eternal blizzard as punishment by Astra. MC is free, and her heart appears to be healed, but she can no longer get to Zayne.

30,000 PT Assuming the seas dried up when Earth was destroyed and became Philos, Rafayel's Myth takes place around this time. MC was born from the depths of the earth. She has a special heart that makes the people of Philos immortal and is guarded in a palace, treated as a princess, and not allowed to leave.

Child MC is gifted a young Rafayel as a Lemurian slave. She sets him free. (Rafayel later tells her he allowed himself to be caught on purpose.)

MC meets Rafayel as adults while she is attempting to escape the palace. He helps her. They continually meet up and she learns he was the boy she released as a child. Rafayel, Amund, and other Lemurians are killing human nobles. Rafayel tells MC this is not out of revenge, but rather somehow part of an effort to restore Lemuria/the oceans. MC asks how she and Rafayel can be bound as he never gave her one of his scales. He says their bond was formed when the oceans still existed. MC has vague memories of living in a hut on the Island of Songs surrounded by ocean. 

Rafayel and Amund are plotting to recover “the God of the Sea’s (Rafayel’s) heart from MC by cutting it out with a dagger on the Island of Songs. However, the heart must be given willingly. Rafayel is uncertain whether the legends are true about killing MC to restore the oceans and Lemuria. Per the legend, the goal seems to be attaining Absolute Power. According to the legend, “Lemurians who seeketh Absolute Power: Combat the treacherous tides. Dive into The Deep for pearls. Find a true love. When blessed with a true love’s kiss, claim her heart by your own hand. A heart, pure, flawless-and filled with love. It is the best offering humans can give to Lemurians. -Lemurian Ruins, Slate No. 0065, Lemuria: Tome of the Sea God”. (Amund has served multiple Gods of the Sea over the centuries. Are these all reincarnations of Rafayel or are there multiple Gods of the Sea?)

6 months after Rafayel and MC celebrate her birthday, he and Amund take her to the Island of Songs, which she recognizes. She remembers her past life with Rafayel and realizes that Rafayel will fall into eternal slumber and the seas will never be restored if she does not return his heart. She offers to cut it out, but Rafayel refuses, saying he and the Lemurians will have to find their own way to change to story. He attempts to erase her memories and sever their bond to save her. Rafayel calls her his beloved bride.

MC is returned to the palace with no memories of Rafayel, but she watches the blue fish he gave her when they were young and slowly begins to remember. Hearing that the Lemurians are on the verge of being captured, and remembering that Rafayel intends to leave, she runs out of the city to find him, her memories and their bond once more intact.

Unsure how to resolve things, they set out on a camel across the desert to find Whalefall City. Amund is with them. Rafayel suggests that somehow by going to Whalefall City, he’ll be able to show her the sea. (Based on the Tender Moment, Whalefall Lament, it seems likely that Whalefall City is the name of the Lemurian city under the sea that Rafayel grew up in as a child on Earth.) The blue fish in the palace turns into a scale, presumably the one he gifted her to form their bond.

Xavier meets MC again at a Philos Academy as knights in training, sometime near the end of Philos’ life as a planet. Jeremiah goes to the Academy too. Xavier is the Crown Prince, but avoids returning to the royal family, remaining at the Academy instead.

During his Gladius Ceremony in the Starfall Forest, Xavier discovers that the forest contains the hollow heart of Philos and consumes people to power the long-dead core. This creates Wanderers. Xavier realizes protocores used to contain hearts. MC notices his attitude/demeanor changes noticeably after this trial. He rejects his role of Crown Prince after this.

The king dies, and Xavier disappears for about 200 years. 

MC and Xavier meet up again while investigating Starfall Forest. Jeremiah is part of MC’s squad. Xavier reveals what he learned about the forest to MC. He tells her that the royal family used to send human sacrifices into the forest. Then they discovered a truly immortal person who could die and come to life over and over, continually powering the planet. MC does not realize he is talking about her. She realizes the woman who gave him the star tassel is the same woman who reincarnates.

Xavier begins planning a backtracking expedition through spacetime in order to find a way to save MC and Philos. Jeremiah decides to join the team. MC decides to stay and become Queen to protect the people of Philos until Xavier can return. Xavier says that when he returns, he will be her knight. She gives him her little star badge, saying she knows that it can't replace the star tassel. He tells her only one person has ever given him a little star, but she doesn't understand what he means.

Xavier leaves MC’s service, and she fakes his death, claiming he died with honors. He is viewed as a traitor by the people of Philos. MC does not believe he will ever return.

Timejump.

See Part 2 here for Earth Timeline

A thought: Is the reason that MC is considered the only true immortal because she has or is connected to Rafayel/The God of the Sea’s heart? Lemurians appear to be naturally immortal, though not undying.

[fand0mswithbunny]

this is so different from the other posts i do but fuck it. descendants 4: rise of red review, spoilers ofc, we still boycott disney's ass, pirate this movie like uma and her crew ate the intro of this movie instead of watching this from disney+

keep reading if youve seen it or dont care about spoilers but tldr: if you havent seen it and see this as a spin off movie instead of a 4th installment, i say go watch it. its basically how i feel about the 2024 mean girls movie, im just here for certain characters, dynamics and songs, and a bit of the actual plot, its fun but definitely not for everyone, i liked parts of the movie/plots tho

okay honestly overall, despite the fucking terrible rushed ass ending, i still honestly enjoyed a lot of aspects of this movie.

songs, generally i liked. yeah its all pop-y but yk, none of them were unbearable, i loop red, whats my name (red vers.) and love aint it what about it

the editing was. a choice at times. like it will cut at the most random moments and when red was being transported and fell from that. pipe. thing in the castle it was so. disney channel editing core LIKE OKAY I KNOWW OFC IT IS but grahhhhhHH

the cg was good, direction was. also a choice at times. idk how to explain it but it felt like every scene was being directed like a music video and not like a MOVIE esp the lighting oh my god idk what it is but its so GLOWY AND WEIRDD

the characters themselves, i love the main cast, red, chloe, ella, bridget, etc. were all cool. IM A FIRM RED/CHLOE SHIPPER THEY ARE GIRLFRIENDS IDC and i also liked the dynamic they have with their past moms it was nice

oh yeah i dont mind how they wrote mal, evie, jay, and ben outta the story, i mean they gotta explain their absence yk. and i loved the carlos tribute, you can tell china was genuinely not acting in that tribute scene.

the vks were. okay. i dont mind that literally every villain/princess/disney protag goes to high school. this whole series basically feature length fanfiction anyway, idc personally about that. its weird URSULAS SISTER was the main antagonist. like i get having a completely new villain aside from the vks parents or something but. ursulas. sister??? besides you could tell me shes ursula and ill believe you.

its nice seeing filipino prince charming thats it thats all i gotta say RAHHH PHILIPPINES BABYYY 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 MY MANS GOT THAT 'PINO RIZZ OKAYYY

the plot was actually fun, but yeah I WISH WE COULDVE SEEN CASTLECOMING WE WERE ROBBED OF THAT i knew when red and chloe got the book there was like 10 minutes left in the film but cmonn we couldve had Morgie, I DONT KNOW somehow freeing the rest of the vks and them STEALING THE POCKETWATCH AND RED AND CHLOE HAVING TO GET IT BACK, GET ANOTHER 30 MINUTES IN THE FILM MAYBE, ANOTHER ACTION SEQUENCE, CASTLECOMING. but its finee im sure theres a fanfiction in the works somewhere that has that exact premise because thats what fanfic is for babyyyy

imagine. during the dance chloe and red are scrambling to find the watch, they see the vks, they find bridget crying because her best friend isnt there, she thinks ella bailed on her, they have to find the watch but, they gotta make her feel better right? red comforts her while chloe chases after them to find the watch, ella comes to the dance late after deciding, fuck my stepmom, get your hands dirty parallels, something something, the four of them all stopping the vks together, THEN they travel back.

i should just write a fix it fic for this movie at this point damnn i impressed myself

but yeah the ending does leave a lot of plot holes, if bridget didnt change from the past WHO DID, if Red even CONSIDERED a VK in this timeline? if not then WHO IS IT?? IS IT CHLOE?? its hella rushed, its ass, but i guess we'll find out in the 5th movie ig

also i thought they were totally setting it up for Ella to be the one that humiliated Bridget in the past, like the "I saw through her" in Love Ain't It we NEVER GOT ANY CLOSURE FROM THAT WHAT HAPPENED?? sighhh its okay its fine

i see this movie as a spin off movie rather than a 4th installment of the universe because it pretty much is, like its basically its OWN universe with the lack of the og cast and new characters. i unofficially coin it as the "Descendants: Redverse" because it just makes more sense

so many questions, mainly WHY, but yeah, still liked it, would rewatch. certain. parts of it. but honestly? a 7/10. leaning towards a 7.5

is this a recommendation? not sure, depending on who you are you could totally love this film or hate it, i say give it a chance and completely ignore the busted ass ending <3

anyways KENDRICKKK FANFIC WRITERSSSSSS- DROP SOME MORE CHARMINGHEARTS FANFICS/D4 FIX IT FICSSS. AND MY LIFE, IS YOURRSSSS

[sweetmariihs2]

Small Sofia The First criticism

For me, Sofia The First was indeed Sofia The First only at the beggining of the show. I think it's because Sofia was getting used to the royal life, that world was new for her and we, as kids, were discovering it with her.

At the beggining they were really focused on making a Disney Princess show. There's the castle, the royal balls, the princess dresses, and the whole story was about a little commoner girl turning into a princess overnight, with a silly villain making evil plans just because he wanted the magic amulet to be the king. It has such a Barbie And The 12 Dancing Princesses, Barbie Princess Charm School, Barbie Rapunzel and Barbie Princess And The Pauper vibe, along with Disney Princesses and a little bit of Sword In The Stone and Sleeping Beauty, Beauty And The Beast.

After season two, I feel like they forgot what were the roots of the show. The episodes don't feel the same and they started to add a lot of fantasy mystical stuff, which makes sense because the characters live in a fantasy kingdom, but in my opinion I believe that it should be a show more focused on the royal life instead of interacting with mystical creatures, like it was at the beggining of the show.

Personally, I feel like Sofia The First was more "Sofia The First" when the show was about having princess slumber parties, royal balls, attenting to Royal Prep and Sofia being treated as the new princess in the kingdom. After The Secret Library, the show looks a lot more like Mia and Me, which is also good, but it's another kind of show.

I think they ran out of ideas after 2 years since the show's debut and they tried to expand the universe to make the show more interesting to the public, that was during the time when people were more focused on new streamings/youtube instead of TV. That's also when Elena Of Avalor was made and Craig Gerber started to work on it, and left the writing of Sofia The First. They did expand the universe of the show, but they lost the "new princess in a new royal world" vibes to it, which is the core of Sofia The First. Even the episodes where she's in the castle, after season 2 they just don't feel the same anymore.

It's still good and the animation is great, but the first episodes just hit different and even though the animation is inferior, it's a lot better to watch in my opinion.

@shychick-52

[layla4567]

I was browsing tiktok and this video came up and I immediately thought: this is very sanji x y/n core

And of course I had to write something about it.

Warnings: mention of body parts (but is not smut or nsfw)

You and Sanji always dressed together, no matter if it was in your room at the Going Merry or his. You had been dating for several months and it was not at all alarming to see each other's bodies in their underwear.

You were standing in front of the rectangular mirror while trying to pull a long skirt up to your waist. The fabric slid up your thighs while Sanji next to you turned his back slightly to you while he fastened his belt. But the elastic of your skirt was very tight and did not go past your buttocks. You moved your legs back and forth in the hope that the fabric would rise but it was useless. The flirtatious cook heard your frustrated gasps and turned his head only to see your pretty butt framed by your white panties while the elastic of the skirt squeezed your flesh and raised it slightly. Sanji smiled widely and came up behind you ready to help you.

"Come here, let me help you missus" He purred softly.

You smiled warmly when you felt his soft fingers around your hips, holding the skirt firmly to place it around your waist. You turned around and gave him a kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Do you want me to help you with your shirt, love?" You asked, tilting your head.

"I would like nothing more, gorgeous"

He grabbed the light blue striped shirt and you helped him put on the sleeves, then you concentrated on buttoning the front. From time to time you admired your boyfriend's bare torso and had to suppress your blushing cheeks, although he always noticed and smiled without saying anything. Sometimes words were unnecessary and a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. You took your time patiently and delicately to button the last button as if you had the entire afternoon to do it, not wanting to break that kind of ritual that you and him had.

"Ready my love, now would you help me with the blouse please?"

You turned around to look in the mirror and Sanji came up behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders and bringing his face closer to yours, admiring how your bra looked outlining your bust.

"I wouldn't mind seeing you like this for a while longer" He said smiling mischievously

You put your hands on your hips and turned your head, raising an eyebrow trying to hide a smile and looked at him as if you were going to scold a child who misbehaved. He laughed amused and kissed your cheek, then grabbed the princess sleeve blouse and gently helped you put it on by passing the fabric over your head. The blouse had front laces and your boyfriend quickly and without saying a word helped you tie them. You watched his smooth hands skillfully tie his bows, with the final knot you also helped him and placed your fingers on his, feeling the heat of his skin.

You two always helped each other, you lovingly put Sanji's jacket on and adjusted it and cleaned it like you were a mother preparing your child for the first day of school. He thanked you for each gesture silently and with an adorable smile. The cook looked like a prince charming, he even helped you put on your shoes as if you were Cinderella, always ready to serve you and only you. Finally, all that was left was your hairstyle, you were thinking of putting on some hair clips with flowers but you couldn't find them. Sanji saw them first and decided to play an innocent joke on you by hiding them behind his back. When you realized it, you scolded him lightly and demanded that he give them back to you. Of course you first had to put up with his teasing. Sanji raised the buckles over his head and you stretched out your hand trying to grab them in vain, you couldn't deny that the situation amused both of you so the laughter didn't take long to fill the room.

"I'll give it to you in exchange for a kiss" he tilts his head smiling flirtatious

You couldn't help but laugh amused and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him tenderly on the lips. Feeling satisfied, Sanji delicately placed the clips in the back of your hair. You closed your eyes enjoying his fingers on your head, sighing happily. When it was over, you walked around in front of the mirror admiring your outfit, you looked like a princess and your boyfriend knew it because, hugging you from behind and placing his arms around your waist while he rested his chin on your shoulder, he whispered to you.

"You're beautiful ma princesse"

You blushed pleased as you complimented him on his appearance as well. Then, hugging, they said I love you to each other, ready to face the new day in the best way. There were definitely no better mornings than these.

[parachutingkitten]

From the exactly one interaction we've had with her, I do think Kipperlilly is a shoo-in for a major antagonist role, but there’s something else. She's almost too stereotypical. Obviously she's ripe for clique-y banter, and I am excited to see how petty it gets, but I can see some real potential for her being redeemed long term. She gets deprogrammed, and reaching out with kindness and understanding is what helps her break out. That's a classic plot too. You're forced to spend time around the mean girl, and it starts off catty, but by the end, being around people who aren't awful to their core makes her better too. You know, princess charm school style? I can see her being a Delancy.

There's also a good enemies to lovers plot with Riz in there somewhere, maybe that's just me

[zoke-coke]

Okay here’s some emo band au shit. There are multiple bands, as the total drama part of the au itself is a battle of the bands competition. We got

BANDS:

The Drama Brothers

The one canon band. They’re a combination of every boy band—nonfiction AND fiction—ever. Consists of the same four (+ Sasquatchanakwa) as in the show.

System Flowers

I know I always call them “the emo band”, but they’re not really one set subculture. I mean, Duncan’s punk, Alejandro’s emo, Mal’s a metalhead, and Zoey’s goth at her core, but if you asked me to list their songs I’d give you an MCR album. Which makes me wonder, if they’re this universe’s MCR, does Twilight exist? Does 50 Shades exist? Does After exist, but as Drama Brothers? Anyway, their #1 rival band is the Drama Brothers. They also all kiss sometimes. They consist of:

Zoey - lead vocalist, can not play an instrument (represented in logo as a pink violet)

Mike (Mal/Svetlana) - guitar and bassist AND stunt artist (Svetlana) (represented in logo as a blue forget me not)

Duncan - drummer (represented in logo as a green button pom)

Heather - manager/keys (represented in logo as a white……..heather)

Alejandro - guitarist and vocalist (represented in logo as a red rose) (added to the band as competition to Justin)

Prime Time Lobotomy

Dark folk band composed of loons (affectionate and serious). Occasionally, they have screamo-like vocals with their fairy folk instrumentals. They’re probably all sapphics but I won’t say who dates who. The women:

Dawn - lead vocalist, but plays the flute when not singing.

Izzy - fiddle player, constantly tries to convince Dawn to let her yodel in the middle of random songs. She says she IS the lobotomy in the band name.

Jo - acoustic guitar. She was a last minute addition, but was convinced by Dawn. She said her soul needed some fun.

Eva - hand drums, or anything she can bang on.

SOLOISTS:

Courtney

Courtney was a ghostwriter who wrote music for various artists, who after her teenage years put out her own songs on YouTube and became an internet singer. She eventually became a big pop star, and that’s where she’s at now. I’d say she’s like… this universe’s Taylor? But I don’t know if I CAN say that

Gwen

True goth girl. She writes on her own, but doesn’t really put any music out; she was accepted into the battle of the bands through a random raffle. Princess Charm School style. The first friend she really makes in this whole thing is Courtney. Courtney finds her weird, but… charming.

José

Before Alejandro joined System Flowers, he was in a duo music act with his brother. While their act was extremely successful, it was obvious José was the favorite and he knew it. He’d constantly put Alejandro down and take any spotlight he had. One performance Alejandro has enough of his bullshit and they have a very violent split, and he joins this competition as a way to get back at him.

HOSTS:

Geoff and Bridgette

They’re married :) talk show hosts, a lot easier to talk to than Chris.

Chris McLean.

The main host. Put the show on to not give popularity to others, but to gain it himself. He was a one hit wonder years ago, for “I Wanna Be Famous”.

Yeah that’s it 👍 uhhhh oh yeah to clear up any confusion the contestants are all in their 20s, out of college. And it’s kinda just gen 1 and gen 2 cast. For now

[jasdiary]

Fableheart

Name Meaning :

Fable : A short, fictitious tale conveying a moral.

Heart : The core of oneself.

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“ Welcome to Fableheart, my dear! Oh- don’t be shy, step foot in, we don’t bite! “

Nabi Von Waldeck, Current housewarden

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-ˏˋ. Introduction ˊˎ-

𓇢𓆸 Fableheart is an RSA dorm twisted from the Ever After High franchise.

𓇢𓆸 Fableheart was founded on the morals of the fairytale-bound heroes.

𓇢𓆸 The current housewarden is Nabi Von Waldeck (Twisted from Apple White) and the current vice-housewarden is Armaros Raven Corvidae (Twisted from Raven Queen ) ( by @rosietrace )

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I. Students of FableHeart are encouraged to follow their heart and reach for their goals of their own volition. Be it to follow the footsteps of a higher being or to reject that notion and walk down your own path is entirely up to you. Due to this, there tends to be many conflicts between students but they always come together at the end of the day.

II. As a part of FableHeart, you learn to remember that the end is just the beginning.

III. FableHeart is sometimes regarded as a cursed dorm, many if not all members having some kind of curse or dilemma that could change their life. For better or worse is to be decided.

IV. Students of Fableheart are known for their stubbornness and morality. They all know or are figuring out what they want to do in their future, but one thing for sure is that they’ll do anything to walk down the path they chose.

V. Students in this dorm excel in Ancient Curses and Seminars. It’s nearly impossible to defeat a Fableheart student in a debate or mislead them from a seminar. As for ancient curses…The students of Fableheart know about curses all too well.

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-ˏˋ. Dorm Appearance ˊˎ-

⟡ Fableheart’s dorm looks akin to a castle.

⟡ They have grand stairs (that are honestly quite a hassle to go up and down…)

⟡ The dorms stories are being held up by tree roots and vines.

⟡ They’re known for their extravagant structure and secret areas.

⟡ In terms of colors, You can expect to see a lot of purple and red. to separate them, there’s whites and golds along with blacks and silvers.

⟡ All of the students personal rooms are quite large, enough for 2 students to still have a good amount of space.

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-ˏˋ. Dorm Uniform Information ˊˎ-

<𝟑 There is no set uniform!! However, there are requirements as to how you customize and design your uniform.

<𝟑 The uniform is required to look regal, As if you’re royalty attending a ball.

<𝟑 You can be as dramatic or as minimal as you want to be with the uniform, depending on the type of person you are. It’s all up to you.

<𝟑 To show that you are indeed a student affiliated with FableHeart, the heart shaped locket given to every student is required to be shown somewhere on yourself. Where you put the locket is up to you.

<𝟑 All in all, just have fun coming up with your very own uniform and looking like the royalty you are~

<𝟑 Fableheart students all have an object or accessory that represents themselves and is used in place of RSA’s magic brooches. They also tie in with their curses.

< Examples >

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-ˏˋ. Fableheart Regular Uniform (option if you don’t want to draw RSA’s uniform!) ˊˎ-

✎ᝰ. Very much giving Barbie Princess Charm School!

✎ᝰ. Used in place of RSA’s uniform. ( I find it hard to draw i’m sorry )

✎ᝰ. As shown in the photos, it’s customizable to an extent.

✎ᝰ. ((The skirt can be switched for a longer skirt, pants or even shorts.))

✎ᝰ. The dorm colors are apple red and royal purple.

✎ᝰ. They are also available in red ↓

< IVE ‘Love Dive’ concept outfits >

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-ˏˋ. Fableheart Dorm Playlistˊˎ-

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-ˏˋ. Notes for those who want to make a Fableheart Oc ˊˎ-

𓇢𓆸 As this dorm was revealed to only a few people a while back, some EAH characters have already been claimed; here’s the characters that have been taken! :

Apple White

Raven Queen

Madeleine Hatter

Briar Beauty

Ashlynn Ella

Kitty Cheshire

C.A. Cupid

Darling Charming

Odette Cygnet ( Duchess Swan ) { @/starry-night-rose }

Lizzie Hearts

Renè Scarlett ( Cerise Hood ) { @/terrovaniadorm }

Rosalina Bellevue (Rosabella Beauty ) { @/slumberingrose-fandom }

Castor Del Rosario ( Courtley Jester ) { @/luvneuvillette }

Blondie Lockes

Maristela Undine ( Meeshell Mermaid ) { @/terrovaniadorm }

Lucia Primrose ( Farrah Goodfairy ) { @/sakuramidnight15 }

Ginger Breadhouse

Thornby Bell Faelan ( Faybelle Thorn ) { @/princekoala }

Mira Shards

Gaia Abor ( Cedar Wood ) { @/shinysparklesapphires }

Caoimhe Dulcie ( Ginger Breadhouse ) { @/sakuramidnight15 }

𓇢𓆸 The max amount of ocs per person is 3! This is so other people have chances to join!

𓇢𓆸 Just to reiterate, Each Fableheart member has a curse that impacts them. (Ex. Nabi aging every time they eats an apple and only being freed from the curse by a declaration of true love)

𓇢𓆸 Everything else is basically said in information section/s. If there are any questions or confusion, please don’t be shy to ask!!

What story will be written today?…✎ᝰ.