hauntedangelofdreams

[hauntedangelofdreams]

— SATIN RIBBONS

PAIRING. Park Chaeyoung/Rosé x Reader

Your morning routine is simple, peaceful. A quiet moment away from the drivel in the real world that inevitably awaits you. All it takes is one incidental encounter with the princess and her hyper puppy for things to change completely. (2K)

NOWPLAYING. Amy - Alexandre Desplat

TAGS. royal!au, mutual pining but roseanne is an obvious dork, self-indulgent fluff, typical helpless dog owner shenanigans, ft. lisa as roseanne’s personal maid who definitely needs a break

There is no better view than this one here, you decide.

Spring mornings are calm, quiet, and soft in every way. Standing in the gazebo as you do every morning, you look out into the pink and violet sky.

Just beyond the castle, a thick fog muddles the outline of the surrounding walls. The sun is so orange it looks to be drawn by a child. That saffron orange light gives a soft, dreamlike glow to everything in its reach.

Petrichor permeates the cool air. Dew from lastnights downpour slinks from the trees, coming down like drizzle in the gentle winds. Cattails along the rivers edge sway. Though the geese scattered along it remain unperturbed, suspended in time.

(That ethereal, rich light falls upon them in such a way that makes you wish you’d been a painter instead of a florist, if only to immortalize this moment forever.)

All you can do is appreciate it for what it is.

Opening the pouch on your hip, you take a handful of the birdseed inside, and toss them out into the river. Used to this routine, hardly any of the geese startle, simply drifting closer to eat.

Might as well join them.

You split open a golden-crusted loaf and lather on a thin layer of melted butter, mouth already salivating just from looking at the platter before you.

Birdsong whistles overhead as you set down your cutlery on the empty side of the dish.

You toss a bit more seeds into the river. They dapple the shimmering water, creating ripples that look like fully bloomed roses.

You’re about to gather your things and take a seat when you hear noise from below the gazebo, moving fast. The source doesn’t take long at all to reveal themselves. Hank skips up the stairs with a few excited barks. The terrier is nothing but a white and brown blur charging toward you, nails clicking all the way.

You smile as he reaches your feet, wanting to lean down to pet the pup but deciding against it. You still have to eat, and you’d rather not have a mouth full of dog hairs… no matter how cute said dog is at the moment.

“Hello to you too,” you mutter fondly.

Hank yips enthusiastically in return, spinning himself dizzy around your feet.

A few of the geese startle at the ruckus, lifting off from the foot of the gazebo and settling back closer to the empty bridge.

You shush the canine nonsensically, only seeming to make his frenzy worse. His wet snout tickles your ankles. Searching. You shake your head in amusement when he seems to settle just enough to look up at you with those expectant, glittering eyes.

“Sit still, boy..”

Hank obliges without you needing to ask twice, though his tail thumping against the mahongany planks doesn’t quite seem to get the memo. The puppy stares up at you with big guileless eyes and a panting smile that tells you he's never had to beg for a thing in his life.

You give in with a long, dramatic sigh, and a defeated fine you win. You rip off a small chunk of sausage from your platter to share with the canine. “Spoiled little thing, aren’t you? Always causing trouble these days..” 

Hank takes it gently between his crooked teeth, and it’s only after you’ve pulled away to eat some yourself do you realize you’re a part of the problem as much as anyone else. Spoiled mouths hardly ever feed themselves.

Hardwood creaks as someone else steps into the gazebo, causing you to turn.

You both pause as soon as you lock eyes, dumbstruck by each other’s presence.

Princess Roseanne.

The woman looks absolutely radiant in the morning sun. Light frames her soft edges. She’s like a walking daydream. Closer to angel, than mortal. Pink hair rollers wrapped in her blonde locks. Nose tinted pink. Satin bunched between her pale fingers to hold up the frills of her nightgown. Robe falling off of one of her sun-kissed shoulders.

You think you’d do anything she’d asked of you, if only to forever bask in the fond recognition that overcomes her face after her shock settles.

“Morning, your highness,” you greet, slightly bowing in courtesy.

Her smile falters. She gives you a look.

It takes you a moment to understand, but when you do, you immediately bow again in apology, face becoming far too hot for so early in the day. “Sorry sorry, still a habit.”

You straighten up and try again, “Good morning, Rosie. Lovely to see you out bright and early on such a beautiful day.”

Roseanne smiles, and just like that, all is forgiven. “It’s nice to see you too, petal.”

She finally takes in the scene. The full plate and mug on the railing, Hank sitting patiently at your feet, tongue lolling out of his mouth in a pant.

“Here he is… thought I’d heard him making a fuss over here! I’m so sorry about him, he has a frantic mind of his own in the mornings, I swear." She briefly bends to smooth down the wild fur around his eyes with an exasperated look, "One second he’s playing with the butterflies and next thing I know he’s halfway to the bridge…”

“He’s just lucky he’s as cute as his owner,” you say unthinkingly. There's little time to retract the statement because the moment Roseanne looks down —unable to hide behind the curtains of her hair like she tends to— you know you've said something right.

She turns away, but you catch the reddening apples of her cheeks before she can get too far. An overwhelming amount of fondness blooms across your chest.

You’re still biting back a smile when her stomach grumbles.

“Want to share?”

Roseanne looks over, still flustered from your last comment. You offer a good chunk of your loaf. The tension eases as she gives you a grateful smile.

Finally, you take a bite of your own food, buttery goodness melting on your tongue.

“So, have you—”

“Is this why—”

You both stop short, glancing at each other with secret smiles.

“You first,” she says, beating you to it.

You hum thoughtfully, picking up your mug filled to the brim with fresh spring water. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Ah, no.” She confirms your suspicions as you take a long swig, covering her mouth to speak around her bread. You give her a stern look, making her laugh. “Your concern is sweet, but I was planning to, swear! Hankie has been sick for the past few days and he finally wanted some fresh air, couldn’t pass up the opportunity, you know?”

“I see..” you murmur. “In any case, I’m glad he’s feeling better then. And please have a real meal after you’re back inside the castle. Picking berries off of my plate surely can't be fulfilling in any sense.”

Her blush deepens at being caught red-handed, but you just laugh, lightly bumping your shoulders together. “Now, your turn."

“Ah- this,” she gestures to your setup along the gazebo railing, a hint of mirth in her tone, “is why I’ve never seen you during breakfast? You’re out and about making friends with the local wildlife?”

You chuckle, shaking your head.

“Nothing like that, no. Just… another one of those habits I can’t seem to shake, I suppose you could say.” You look over the railing into the water. A few geese glide across the river in search of birdseed. “I don’t garden for the mere motivation of wage. Nature is just where I’ve always felt most at peace. And so, my days tend to be far more productive the sooner I can get outside and simply,,, take a moment to breathe.”

When you look over, Roseanne stares at you like you’ve just given the most interesting spiel in the entire universe, with that fond quirk to her lips.

You offer a nervous smile in return, “If I may ask… why the inquiry? Has someone asked for me?”

The princess looks away to tear off another chunk of her bread, meek as she is hopeful when she asks, “Does it count if I’m asking you now?”

You can’t help the way your smile widens, finding her madly endearing. “I suppose so, princess."

Roseanne doesn't quite fluster this time, but you swear you've never seen her face so red since the first time you introduced yourself to her.

(She'd kissed your knuckles like you were more than the head of gardening staff, said your dedication in the months you'd been serving had really shown… then minutes later she tumbled into a roseberry bush full of thorns. That was how you met Lisa, too, who couldn't hold her giggles when you retold the story while plucking the twigs out of her hair.)

Roseanne even opens her mouth to retort, but is stopped by a shrill voice in the distance.

It takes another few times for either of you to realize it’s nothing dangerous, and that they’re calling for the princess herself.

Who rubs the back of her nape with a sheepish smile, “Ah right, I’m not supposed to be out here quite yet..”

One look at her attire —feet bare and draped in delicates— and surely anyone could’ve guessed that.

You notice movement on the bridge.

Not even a few moments later, Roseanne’s name rings into the air, clearer than ever.

“I take it that’s your maiden?” you ask knowingly, failing to keep your laughter out of your words. Lisa has never been known for her subtlety.

Roseanne blanches, “Shoot.”

In a rush, she gathers up her satin drapes all over again, pink pins wobbling atop her head but no worse for wear when she stops abruptly in her departure, spinning to face you once more. “I won’t ask you to stifle away in the castle… but maybe, we could come back tomorrow?” she asks, smile shy, eyes glittering.

You open your mouth, but she cuts you off.

“If it's okay with you, of course,” she tacks on as an afterthought, genuine as ever for someone of her status. You tilt your head, as if there was ever really anything to think over. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Roseanne smiles as bright as the sun, blinding you with her beauty.

You're only pulled out of your daze by the clink of cultery, and you by the time you realize what she's doing, she's already got your empty mug and platter in hand.

You frown, stepping forward. "Oh no, I couldn't ask you to-"

She steps back. Brandishes another one of those disarming grins that makes your heart flutter. "Please, we're headed back to the castle anyway. No need for you to waste your energy on a second trip back over the bridge."

You sigh.

"Fine… but, next time I'll walk with you. Alright?"

Roseanne nods, smile seeming to widen if anything.

“Come on, boy, we have to go now." Hank perks up at the tone shift, happy to finally be addressed. “Say bye Hankie!"

Hank barks as if he really understands the princess, making you chuckle.

You wave them off, watching them leave the gazebo.

Roseanne meets her maiden halfway. Lisa promptly snags an arm around her shoulders, mouth running a mile a minute as she tells the princess off, equal parts exasperated as she is playful. Hank zips toward the bridge. You catch word about Roseanne’s lack of shoewear, her bundled hair, and… a patch of dandelions?

You can't make out much more as they get too far out. But you were sure you'd figure it out eventually, as it was literally your job to oversee all of the plant life around here.

Oh well, nothing to fuss over as of now.

You toss the last of your birdseed, and the geese are eager to reform back near you with Hank's ruckus. The princess and her maiden follow the cobblestone path back down the river. Their figures become smaller and smaller amongst the green grass and the pink, hazy sky.

Just a little before they reach the bridge, Roseanne looks back, and you both share one last secret smile.

[hauntedangelofdreams]

hc! married life

lucy maclean x fem!reader

summary: meeting lucy + being married to her

warnings: lucy is a dork, established relationship, its 2296-2300ish, it takes place after fallout finale and things get better after it, nothing but fluff and a married couple doing cute shit, no nsfw but mentions of it, quick cannibalism mentions (uh…), wasteland and life outside the vault brief mentions, reader wasn't born in the vault, not proofread, silly plot

when you first met lucy, you found her in the old antique store. you were talking to the not so nice lady that owned the place when you saw her step inside with an inquisitive gaze, observing a bunch of what it looked like junk to you. it was almost hilarious seeing a young woman wearing that goofy ass blue and yellow jumpsuit.

you were leaning against the wall in the corner, listening to all of her chattering about vault-tec. it sounded like nothing but utterly tedious

"it would be safe to assume that you do business with criminals. not judging you. don’t imagine there’s that many other options up here." blissfully unaware of the death stare coming from that lady, she boldly muttered and it immediately made you step out of the corner you were hiding in to save her

"she doesn't mean that! she's new here, sorry." you jump in, forced to intervene, touching lucy's shoulder and giving them a light squeeze. she furrowed her brows in response with your disapproving glance. “wha- who are you? i was just talking about the equipments!”

pulling her away from the place, you hear the hoarse voice behind you saying "fucking vault dweellers."

it didn't take longer than a day for you two to be friends. sharing stupid stories from her vault, fun facts, and learning about each other's life and family was one of the things that you bonded over

while you two were outside once, walking together by the wrecked lanes of what los angeles used to be, and lucy began to talk about her life in the vault and you were more than impressed and in disbelief of how naive vault dweellers could be

"wait, what do you mean?" your face twists at the second you heard lucy saying that the guy she married was an outsider that was responsible for killing half of her vault. "how can you married someone you've never met?"

"well, you see, when you marry someone from another vault, usually it comes with benefits! we gave them seeds and parts for machinery and they offered us a breeder!" lucy explains it all like the good teacher she is, assertively nodding with shoulders back

you forced yourself to repress a laugh by looking the other way, and she immediately noticed and questioned you incredulously but you knew her too well already to notice that she wasn't mad. "what is it?!"

"you people marry strangers for seeds and to have kids? that sounds... miserable. what if they are awful people or outsiders like that guy?"

"okay, when you say it like that..." she loses her shoulders, brushing her confidence away, gulping and chuckling awkwardly. "but you are an outsider. and you aren't that bad."

"careful there. it makes you sound like you are very found of the outsider here, lucy maclean." you stare back at her and see a tender smirk peeking onto her lips. her body slightly leaning against yours, and a soft gaze that swiftly averted when you caught her. she didn't deny it though, you thought

it took her one kiss to invite you to live with her after your mission was done and you gladly accepted.

the invitation was up even after all the truth about her dad. after all the traumatic experience, on the way to your new home, you never left her alone not even for a second. you were always holding hands, sharing glances, leaning against each other and making her giggle as you were losing the track of how many times you kissed her face

in the vault, after everything was settled, you had all the time in the world to take care of her and learn about each other. you would spend hours running your fingers through her hair, listening to whatever she said and playing with her fingers while holding her hand. you would let her talk about all the memories with her family and carefully laugh along or comfort her when needed

you knew that you couldn't erase her bad memories from what had happened but you could create new ones and you focused on that

it was about time when she proposed to you, stuttering, crying and using a bunch of silly expressions like "holy moly" or "jeepers creepers"??!

don't get me started on the honeymoon. yes, you were living in a giant metal capsule but you could swear that as soon as you left the room after days, you were able to breathe fresh air.

lucy wasn’t exactly the easiest person to appease. especially not after finally seeing through the entire “breed” thing that everyone in the vault worshipped so much and experiencing what actually love could be. turns out that sex isn’t something people do just to have kids and “recolonize” the earth, after all

strongly believe that she would be such a loud and whiny girl when you touch her. even the slightest graze would make her legs tremble and she would go like 🥺

"wanna cook together?" "wanna go gardening?" "wanna watch a movie?" "hi, princess, wanna read something together?" "teach me your repair skills?" and her answer would always be "okey dokey" and a huge smile

your favorite part about gardening was to plant food and use it for dinner as you cooked together. and by that, it meant that you would cook while she was happily seating following you around with a cooking book giving you orders like a princess

in other times, you were proud to distract her on purpose by hugging her waist from behind, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. reasonable to assume that the entire room would smell like smoke as she cried at the sight of you on her knees and between her legs, eating her out

when it came to help around the vault, you were a great teacher along with your wife, making sure that all the facts were correct but in a less traumatizing way in order to not scare all the kids with “yeah, so basically all my family got killed by explosions but, hey, i’m here now!”

after a long day, watching movies was your favorite thing to do. one night, when discussing all the different genres of movies that lucy had never seen, you mentioned a specific one

“you know, my grandma used to tell me about this really weird show from the 2020’s where some creepy teenage girls ate each other after crashing into the wilderness.” and lucy’s face goes pale, looking like 😦

“golly gee… i hate it up there.”

[hauntedangelofdreams]

By 名魔堂

[hauntedangelofdreams]

If you have the energy, can you expand on Crossing a Bridge being about Dmitry?-🌸

I’d love to talk more about Crossing a Bridge!

So this view/interpretation of the song that I have comes from a sort of abstract reading of the show that I have that Anya’s journey is not just about finding out if she is Anastasia or to find the Dowager Empress, but a larger journey of self-discovery and a sort of concept that Dmitry is the person she’s running to, she just doesn’t realize it. (I’ll put a cut since I am sure this will be long)

In the show, Anya sets her sight on finding this person who she perceives to be a long-lost family member. She has this idea before she even meets Dmitry and Vlad that someone is waiting for her. Whereas in this abstract view, I read it from this angle that she’s searching for someone, she just doesn’t know it’s Dmitry. (This reading of Crossing a Bridge makes it run parallel to a similar reading I have of In My Dreams, so I’m going to kind of be discussing In My Dreams too because in this interpretation they’re sort of connected.)

So Crossing a Bridge is a significant song bc Anya has arrived in Paris, and she’s standing on the very bridge named after Alexander III (presumably her grandfather, if she is Anastasia) and it’s a weirdly emotional crossroad of her life, intersecting her “past” and future. The bridge is symbolic in a number of ways in the show for this reason. So Anya is at this bridge and she’s looking into this moment of like is this the bridge to the answers she’s been looking for?

Keep reading

[hauntedangelofdreams]

If you have the energy, can you expand on Crossing a Bridge being about Dmitry?-🌸

I’d love to talk more about Crossing a Bridge!

So this view/interpretation of the song that I have comes from a sort of abstract reading of the show that I have that Anya’s journey is not just about finding out if she is Anastasia or to find the Dowager Empress, but a larger journey of self-discovery and a sort of concept that Dmitry is the person she’s running to, she just doesn’t realize it. (I’ll put a cut since I am sure this will be long)

In the show, Anya sets her sight on finding this person who she perceives to be a long-lost family member. She has this idea before she even meets Dmitry and Vlad that someone is waiting for her. Whereas in this abstract view, I read it from this angle that she’s searching for someone, she just doesn’t know it’s Dmitry. (This reading of Crossing a Bridge makes it run parallel to a similar reading I have of In My Dreams, so I’m going to kind of be discussing In My Dreams too because in this interpretation they’re sort of connected.)

So Crossing a Bridge is a significant song bc Anya has arrived in Paris, and she’s standing on the very bridge named after Alexander III (presumably her grandfather, if she is Anastasia) and it’s a weirdly emotional crossroad of her life, intersecting her “past” and future. The bridge is symbolic in a number of ways in the show for this reason. So Anya is at this bridge and she’s looking into this moment of like is this the bridge to the answers she’s been looking for?

Keep reading

[hauntedangelofdreams]

[hauntedangelofdreams]

{insp.}

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[hauntedangelofdreams]

[hauntedangelofdreams]

My favorite pictures from the OTV Japan trip (in no particular order) pt 2

[hauntedangelofdreams]

Are you a Gold Star lesbian? (Just in case you don't know what it means, a Gold Star lesbian is a lesbian that has never had the sex with a guy and would never have any intentions of ever doing so)

I'm not a lesbian :) I'm queer hehe

[hauntedangelofdreams]

It shouldn’t be surprising that writers have some of the best strike signs in existence

[hauntedangelofdreams]

In response to Slate's article on the possibility having non-heteromative team in figure skating (particularly, ice dance and pairs), Oniceperspective shared a glimpse of Gabriella Papadakis (FRA) and Madison Hubbell (USA) working on their same-sex program. You can see how they switch the leading figure between them.

You can see them trying out lifts in this video.

The rest is on Instagram here:

[hauntedangelofdreams]

Angelina Jolie as Gia Carangi GIA (1998) dir. Michael Cristofer

[hauntedangelofdreams]

Angelina Jolie as Gia Carangi GIA (1998) dir. Michael Cristofer

[hauntedangelofdreams]

obsessed with this photo

[hauntedangelofdreams]