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aifanfictions · 1 year ago

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Can I request Alastor x female reader who loves 70-90 year old jazz? Maybe she's Charlie's sister, and Alastor hears music coming from her hotel room. Probably something like Ruth Etting or Annette Henshaw.

Jazz of the Heart

In the heart of Hell, within the walls of the Hazbin Hotel, chaos and mayhem reigned. Among the residents was Charlie, the determined princess of Hell, and her sister, (Y/N). (Y/N) was unlike her sister in many ways. While Charlie was passionate about redemption and salvation, (Y/N) had a deep love for the music of a bygone era.

Her heart belonged to the tunes of the 70s, 80s, and 90s, especially the enchanting jazz of Ruth Etting and Annette Henshaw. As she settled into her room at the hotel, the smooth melodies of these jazz legends echoed through the walls, serenading the restless souls of Hell.

Alastor, the charming Radio Demon, couldn't help but be drawn to the sultry, nostalgic sounds. He had heard countless songs from different eras, but there was something enchanting about the vintage jazz tunes that (Y/N) played.

One evening, as (Y/N) sat by the record player, carefully selecting the next vinyl to spin, Alastor decided to investigate the source of this delightful music. He followed the alluring melodies to (Y/N)'s room and knocked lightly on the door.

(Y/N) opened the door to find the grinning Radio Demon. "Alastor, isn't it? How can I help you?"

He tipped his hat with a charming flourish. "Why, (Y/N), I couldn't help but be drawn to this mesmerizing music of yours. Quite the aficionado of vintage jazz, aren't you?"

She smiled, appreciating his recognition. "Oh, indeed. There's nothing quite like the classics. They have a soul that modern music often lacks."

Alastor stepped inside, and as the melodies of "Button Up Your Overcoat" filled the room, he extended his hand. "Would you do me the honor of a dance, my dear?"

(Y/N) was taken aback for a moment but couldn't resist the charisma of the Radio Demon. She accepted his offer, and they began to waltz around the room. Their movements were as smooth and enchanting as the jazz itself.

As they danced, Alastor couldn't help but be captivated by (Y/N)'s grace and love for the music. He found himself falling deeper and deeper under her spell, and he knew he had to have her in his life.

The soft, velvety notes of the song enveloped them, creating an intimate atmosphere. As the music swirled around them, Alastor's scarlet eyes bore into (Y/N)'s, and he gently pulled her closer. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, each step a declaration of their growing connection.

With every subtle touch and the close proximity of their bodies, an electric charge filled the room. The scent of old vinyl records mixed with the faint aroma of (Y/N)'s perfume, creating an intoxicating blend. As Alastor's hand rested at the small of her back, a shiver ran down (Y/N)'s spine.

The song reached its climax, and Alastor couldn't resist the magnetic pull drawing him to (Y/N). In a fluid motion, he dipped her low, their faces mere inches apart. The world around them seemed to blur as time slowed down. Their breaths became shallow, and they shared a charged silence.

As the final notes of the song lingered in the air, Alastor, his voice as smooth as honey, whispered, "My dear (Y/N), it seems the music has brought our hearts together."

With an irresistible charm, he closed the remaining distance between them. His lips brushed against hers, gentle and tentative, igniting a spark that neither of them could deny. The kiss deepened, a passionate fusion of two souls drawn together by the enchantment of jazz and the intoxicating allure of their shared attraction.

The world outside faded into insignificance as (Y/N) and Alastor surrendered to the magnetic pull they couldn't escape. His gloved hand cradled her cheek, and the kiss became an exquisite dance of longing and affection.

It was a kiss that transcended time and place, a kiss that marked the beginning of a love story that defied the boundaries of Hell. In that fleeting moment, (Y/N) and Alastor discovered that love, like jazz, was timeless, resonating in the deepest recesses of their hearts.

As they broke the kiss, (Y/N) was left breathless, her eyes filled with both surprise and a hint of desire. Alastor's grin was filled with satisfaction and a hint of mischief. He took her hand, and as the music continued to play, they swayed together, their hearts in sync with the rhythm of love.

In Hell, where chaos and darkness reigned, their love shone like a beacon of light and passion, and the jazz of their hearts would play on, a melody that would never fade away.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

#x reader #reader insert #reader #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #HazbinHotel #Fanfiction #Jazz #Alastor #LoveStory #Music #Hell #Romance #TimelessLove #Passion #ShortStory

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estoricwaterlane · 9 months ago

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Can't say : Chapter 1

character: Damian Wayne

fandom: DC

pairing: Damian Wayne xFem!Reader

tags: fluff,romance,slowburn,angst, unrequited love, childhood sweethearts

warning: its a bit suggestive not that much though lol

a/n: none

Damian stood outside his father's home, enjoying the fresh air. It was a crisp night, but he had donned a jacket to ward off the chill. As he gazed out over the peaceful estate grounds, he saw a woman in a large overcoat approaching.

She waved eagerly at him, and his brow creased with confusion. She clearly wasn't a part of his father's private army, or any of his associates that he knew.

Damian scowled as the woman continued to approach, now hopping up the front steps.

“Mr. Al Ghul what a surprise!” The woman's smile didn't falter as she held out her hand for Damian to shake. But she pulled his arm and guided him into a hug.

His shoulders stiffened , his arms went limp by his sides, and he began backing away to the door"What do you want ?" He demanded, trying not to sound too gruff.

“Well, we haven't had a chance to catch up in quite some time. How have you been?” She pulled back, and peered at him expectantly. “It seems like you've become quite handsome since I last saw you.” Damian couldn't help it, he smirked.

“Well ever since you got your boyfriend , there's really no reason for us to be friends.”

She pursed her lips and looked away, clearly unhappy with the line.

“Please, I just want to talk about old times.” Her voice sounded slightly hollow, and she dropped her eyes to the floor.

She nudged his shoulder with her own, and his nose wrinkled.

"I'll tell you what - how about I bring you a special cup of tea tonight? A little to apologize?”

His nostrils flared as he backed up towards the street, forcing himself not to run. There was something almost nauseating about her; her perfume, the way she cooed.

"I'm not interested," he scoffed.

"You sure? Not even the famous mint tea from my family's estate? It's said to ease sore muscles and improve sleep," she offered.

His brow twitched. Damian was quite the tea aficionado. He always looked forward to his father's expertly-brewed leaves and exotic blends. Perhaps a sip wouldn't hurt, just to appease her. Besides, this entire interaction seemed a bit contrived; after all, why would she be here?

"Go on. Try some! Maybe it will loosen that tight spot you've got in your throat. The one that's preventing you from saying more than a few words at a time," she jested.

Her teeth gleamed behind dark red lipstick, and he took an involuntary step back.

"Very well. You've piqued my curiosity. Bring the tea by," he conceded.

Her lips curled into a triumphant smile. "Yay! I'll bring it right to your doorstep."

"One more thing," Damian said, before turning back toward the mansion.

"What's that?" She called after him.

"Bring yourself along too." His reply was cut short when the door slammed shut in her face.

His feelings for her just couldn’t go away. Ever since she met that sleazebag she calls her ‘boyfriend’ he couldn’t get her out of his head. He could only think about the moment when he finally has her. I mean he knew she was a bit slow, but he didn’t think she’d be so oblivious to not recognize his feelings for her. His childhood best friend.

She arrived promptly the next day with two cups and a small basket filled with a variety of teas and infused waters.

"Here you are!" she exclaimed, handing the tin to Damian. "Sorry it took me a while. I had to dig up some of the old estate's recipes. Do you prefer it hot or iced?"

"I prefer it steeped correctly and served in a proper teacup," he muttered.

"Okay, Mister Prissypants." She began unloading the assortment of pots and jars, shaking her head with amusement.

She settled into the seat across from him, her feet tapping in time with the clock on the wall. She was a whirlwind, flitting around his immaculately decorated living room as if she owned the place.

Damian smirked when her fingers caressed a particularly rare and valuable vase.

He found himself wondering about her personal life, but decided to keep those thoughts to himself. Her looks alone were enough to fuel a thousand fantasies.

“So, what do you think so far?" She poured the rich, golden liquid into his mug, and his nostrils flared with the fragrant, slightly sweet scent.

"It's acceptable," he conceded.

She only raised an eyebrow. "You've got quite the poker face, Damian.”

He snorted. "Pardon me?"

"Like, your expression. You're a total brick wall," she explained.

He stared at her for a moment. She was babbling nonsense. She had nothing on his mastery of deception and camouflage.

But he couldn't help but admit that there was something about her. Something that made him want to give her the time of day, even though she had arrived like an overly friendly tornado.

"There must be a reason you're going to great lengths to earn my attention," Damian said, taking a sip from his cup.

"A bit presumptuous, no?" he remarked.

Her eyes twinkled. "Says the one who demanded my presence for his tea tasting."

He grunted, unable to argue her point. She had a knack for being incredibly bold and direct. It was unnerving but refreshing.

She swished the hot drink in her cup, biting her bottom lip.

"Have you ever tried getting out more?" she asked tentatively.

"I do get out," he snapped. "I train daily, and I also maintain this vast and complex garden."

She sighed. "I meant, socially, Damian. Like, interacting with other people. We're having a party tonight at the estate. Why don't you come over?"

Damian scoffed. "No thank you."

She pouted. "Don't you miss being around people your own age? Like, talking, laughing, and doing things together?"

"Nope," Damian answered.

She glared at him. "Then maybe you can help me pick some fresh flowers for tonight's festivities. I know you're probably itching to get back to work, but I think you'd enjoy it."

Damian narrowed his eyes. "Why should I waste my free time picking weeds in the dead of winter?"

He found himself intrigued by her persistence and curiosity. In his isolation, he had grown accustomed to the quiet. But now, there was an opportunity to be heard.

So he followed her to the sprawling estate gardens, which he tended with care and pride.

As they strolled the pristine pathways and trimmed bushes, he saw how her face lit up with wonder. "This place is a dream," she said, inhaling the fragrant air.

"Thank you," he replied.

"Well, isn't this a surprise. You can actually say something that doesn't involve insulting my hospitality," she teased.

He shook his head. "Tsk. Your ego is the size of your ridiculous overcoat," Damian retorted.

She threw her head back and laughed, the sound filling the empty space between them. Damian's mouth twitched as if wanting to join her.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she whispered conspiratorially.

"You're the worst gossip," Damian groaned.

"Listen, I'm kind of nervous about tonight," she confessed. "My parents are really big socialites. Everyone is going to judge me and, like, laugh."

She crossed her arms, hugging herself. Damian noticed her vulnerability for the first time. There was a hint of uncertainty in her features.

"I can't promise to make small talk, or make anyone feel at ease, but I can assure you that no one will dare to judge," Damian replied.

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul #damian al ghul x reader

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basilone · 1 month ago

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Hi Killy! If it sparks joy, could I request either "a shortwave radio, takeout containers mess tins, and a bare lightbulb" for Lottie & Gale or "bitten lips, army fatigues, and coca-cola" or "slept-in braids, a lamplit office, and an explosion" for Tati & Ron please? Thank you! 💕

Hiii! 💙 I am sticking the Lottie & Gale prompt into my pocket for a later day, as I love it dearly. Thank you for sending these! I immediately had visions for the Tati & Ron prompts you gave me here, haha, and they most definitely sparked joy. As I think they would wind up in the land of fic spoilers if I wrote these into their canon setting, I took the liberty of putting them in an AU instead. And, yes, I incorporated all of these prompts into one piece. 😉 This is what I commonly refer to as the 80s AU that's got Ron and Tatiana living next door to each other as teenagers, not really vibing with each other at first because he's an angsty goth-y horror aficionado and she's a happy-go-lucky glitter-obsessed cheerleader. They band together when their town's accosted by monsters (think a little Stranger Things vibes!) and proceed to, I don't know, save the world a little. In their own way.

the birthday bandersnatch

“You didn’t have to come,” he says, once they’re a couple of blocks away from their street.

The bubble of her gum pops as a first response. He knows she’s glaring at him from beneath her fringe, which stupidly stands up a little on one end because she didn’t bother combing it. Her fingers drum a small pattern on the door rest. It’s not a beat he recognizes, but he supposes their music tastes don’t exactly align on the best of days.

“You lifted car ban,” she replies, as though he ever had any hopes of upholding that ban for longer than a day. “And I think you are going to get very brutally murdered like extras”– she’s all quotation marks with her fingers and he has to push her arm out of his face just to be able to see the road at this time of night –“in your stupid horror movies if you go alone. So I come.”

Ron raises an eyebrow. “You think your presence is going to prevent my brutal demise?”

“Yes, of course.” Her new handwave is imperious, as though he is stupid for even having asked this question at all. “I saved you from poddies and big monster in mall, yes? So I can do saving Ronald thing again, is not hard for me. And I pinky-promise I will not sing Girls Just Want To Have Fun in your car ever in my life again unless you beg me to, honest.”

He chances a glance at her then. She’s turned toward him in the passenger seat, all big eyes set in what she calls her honest face, and Ron can’t help but snort in disgust as she actually has the audacity to hold out her pinky finger in promise.

“Jesus Christ, Pet,” he sighs, fleetingly taking his hand off the wheel to wrap his own finger around hers as briefly as humanly possible, “stop making dumb promises you know full well you’re gonna break the second that song comes on the radio.”

“Bah, you are not even letting me have radio on right now,” she sulks, sinking a little further into her seat and popping her gum again. “I cannot break promise. And pinky-promises are very important, yes? Your Ameeeerican movies say so.”

“They’re your movies too.”

“Is different culture, Ronald. I try to, what is word…”

He shakes his head as her hands begin to rapidly form different shapes in search of the word she’s looking for. Petrova’s gestures are like this in English class, too, sometimes hitting his shoulder if her word search is bigger than she can contain, and he knows any interjections are just going to annoy her.

“Blend in?” he offers, to her tsk-ing noise beside him. “Fit in? Become less annoying? Stop being so Russian?”

“A-s-s-i-m-something!” she exclaims, as though she hasn’t even listened to a word he said, sounding for all the world like a mad scientist who’s just rediscovered the formula for building Frankenstein. “That is word!”

Ron fights the urge to thunk his head onto his steering wheel while he’s still driving. “Assimilate. Do not make me spell it,” he warns, used as he is to her demands that he spell every difficult word she doesn’t really know for her. “And stop commenting on the lack of radio. It’s the middle of the fucking night, Pet, and unless you want that whole goddamn government facility to instantly know that we’re breaking in…”

“Do not swear at me, Ronald, it’s fucking annoying,” she retorts, sniffing loudly and folding her arms. “Do you even know how to break in? Leeeeettle mister juvenile d-i-l-i-n-q-u-e-n-t?”

“It’s d-e-linquent, not d-i!” His fingers drum a new pattern on the steering wheel. He tries not to glance at her again. Why the fuck did she have to come? He glares at her anyway, now that they’re on a boring stretch of road just on the outskirts of town. “And I have a plan, okay?”

“Great. You have plan. What did you call it, how to get murdered within ten seconds?”

“It’s not too late to kick you out of my car.”

“It’s not too late for you to turn car around and go back to bed instead of doing stupid bullshit in middle of night, but here we are in creepy part of town just waiting for more monsters…” Petrova’s sigh is audible. Her glances out of the window are becoming more frequent now, as though she expects something to be lurking in the shadows of the few buildings that are still here. “You are very lucky I woke up when I did, Ronald,” she says, as though she really is God’s gift to him at this hour when he’s already confronted with her plenty during the day. “You make much noises when you sneak out of house, did you know that?”

“Many noises,” he corrects idly. “It’s not my fault the basement window creaks,” he huffs, then, “and very much not my fault that you were sitting there with your window open doing whatever it is that you do when you are not talking my goddamn ear off.”

“I was practicing my writing because I could not fall back asleep fast.”

Ron sighs. It’s sometimes hard to keep arguing with Petrova when she says something disarmingly honest like that. He knows she’s been getting shit from teachers over her writing, which is sometimes more illegible than a doctor’s note. Knows she tries very hard – tongue poking out from between her teeth, hair carefully braided back so it doesn’t fall onto the pages – to fix the issue, although she famously got detention for telling their geography teacher to give her break for being smart enough to know his subject in two languages instead of one.

“How’s that going?” he asks, softening his voice just enough so she knows he’s not picking a fight with her over that.

Her hand gesture is a wobbling motion. “I think I improve. But is hard, eh?”

“Sure,” he agrees, to a brightly glittering smile from her. “I think Russian looks hard, too.”

“Pfftt, Russian not so bad,” she laughs, all throaty amusement. “My handwriting beautiful in Russian. Not so much in English. But I cannot be perfect, eh?”

“You most certainly are not.”

“You really know how to make girl feel very special,” snorts Petrova irreverently, leaning forward and peering through his windshield intently at the same time. “Ronald, I think you need to get rid of headlights. Is almost here.”

“You mean kill headlights,” he corrects, but does as she says for just this once. He knows the facility is just around the next bend, rooftop already rising above the copse of trees. “Look, Pet, the plan is that we go in and try to find… I don’t know. Papers. Pictures. Proof of whatever the shit it is we saw in the mall the other day, all right?”

“You think Ameeeeerican government is responsible for monsters?”

“Just narrowing it down,” he shrugs, driving at a slower pace now. “This place is bizarre. They built this in just two months. No job listings in the local ads. No big opening.”

“No newspaper articles about it,” she adds. “I go to library to check this, da? Lady at desk was very understanding.”

“You researched this?”

“You did too!” she defends, loudly, jabbing a finger at him. “You check out e-v-e-r-y book about monsters before I can. And lady at desk said someone else my age asks about same newspapers. She thinks it is school project.”

“If it helps at all,” mutters Ron, parking the car and glaring at her balefully now that he doesn’t have to focus on the road anymore, “those monster books turned up nothing about what we saw. Why the hell were you researching it?”

“Because,” says Petrova, slowing her speech as though she is speaking to a particularly dim-witted child, “poddies almost bite you, and I think that would be very not so good. I want to kill them very dead before they bite you, or me, or everyone.” She shrugs. Her lower lip looks bitten, as though she has chewed on it a lot recently. “So I do research. I think maybe I can share with you when I find, eh? We make great team.”

Ron blinks. “We do?”

“Yeeees,” she replies, reaching out and patting his arm for emphasis. “You are fine with murder, too.”

“That does not make a great team!”

“Pff, Ronald, keep your voice down,” she says, swinging the door open. “We are being sneaky, no? We have to be very quiet.”

Ron opens his own door and exits the car. Resists the urge to slam the door shut behind him, especially now that Petrova gently closes her own door. He doesn’t know how on earth she thinks she’s going to be able to keep quiet. In all this time with her, shutting Petrova up – or, hell, even getting her to sit still for longer than a minute – has proven to be a true impossibility.

He thinks that’s why he didn’t tell her about tonight.

It’s got nothing to do with those many-tentacled creatures with their disc-shaped heads that Petrova’s taken to calling poddies as though they’re somehow cuter than their slime would make you suspect. It’s got nothing to do with that bigger, nameless monster they both hadn’t found the words for. And it’s sure as shit got nothing to do with how big her eyes had gotten, worrying over the hit he’d taken to his side before she’d thrown a chair at the damn thing and probably saved his life in the process.

He closes his eyes in silent supplication. “What are you even going to say if we get caught?” he asks, fishing around in the pockets of his army fatigues for his small flashlight. “I thought I could spin it fine on my own, but with you here…”

“Is simple. I tell them my birthday is today and you wanted to surprise me with sightseeing on roof. We were told we can see whole town from here, yes?”

Ron blinks. Stares at Petrova for longer than he strictly should. Takes in the haphazard state of her hair, braided back and obviously already slept in, and her black sweatshirt that is so big on her that it reaches down to her thighs. Her hands are worrying at her sleeves, plucking at their slouchiest parts, as she wobbles from side to side in her rather beaten-up high-tops. He supposes it’s lucky she didn’t wear anything with glitter, even when she looks decidedly nothing like how put-together Tatiana Petrova, captain of the cheer squad, blonde and perfect without trying, is supposed to look.

“Clever, but they’ll check our IDs,” he allows, finally, tearing his gaze away from the few holes in her tights with some difficulty. “They’ll know it’s not your birthday then.”

Petrova raises a brow, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “It is my birthday today,” she refutes. “So if they check ID, they can see. I only make good a-l-i-b-i, Ronald.”

“Your birthday’s on October sixth?”

“Seventh,” she corrects. “It is after midnight. Is also”– she adds, already walking to the fence in the distance, tossing one of her braids back over her shoulder –“why I cannot sleep good. Sasha promised he is going to take me to movies later today, and Kolya saved enough pennies for big all-I-can-eat dinner, and I think I am getting roller skates as present.” Her grin is sudden. Bright. “Is very exciting to be Tatiana today, eh?”

“You can skate to school,” he snorts, tearing his gaze away from her big smile with some difficulty, already imagining her wobbling around on those, “instead of bumming rides off of your friends. Or, worse, me.”

“Bah, Ronald, you drive faster than I skate,” she refutes, clearly not letting him off the hook so easily. “We are not…”

“Not…?”

Her hand finds his arm. Squeezes down hard. “Why is office lit by lamps?”

“What? That’s not supposed to…” He squints up at the building, which looms tall and foreboding beyond the fence. Sees more than one window that has not gone dark the way this part of the building usually is at night. He keeps his voice hushed, though no less irate at her ear. “I fucking checked for a week to be sure that nobody was gonna be here!”

“I believe you,” she breathes, hand still clamped around his arm. Her eyes are wide as saucers, reflecting the palest moonlight. “Look at window closest to us, Ron, please.”

He takes an involuntary step back as soon as he sees it. “We made a mistake.”

“What is it do–oh.” Petrova curses, harsh Russian mingling with English, as he takes another step back and takes her with him. She keeps squinting up at the window. Craning her neck to get a better look. “I do not think… What is that? What are they… No...”

“We have to go!”

“There could be people in the…”

“We’re not armed! We don’t have any guns!” he hisses, wrapping his arm around her waist and hissing into her ear without once taking his eyes off the shapes behind the window. “They’re government. They have guns, Pet, trust me.”

“Because they are American?”

“Yes,” he almost laughs, pleased to hear she is not yet panicking, “because they’re the American government and we’re just kids. So let’s fucking go before…”

The ground shakes beneath them. Thunders and rolls deepest, darkest threat under their feet. The few trees sway, rustling leaves and swinging branches, and the fence rinkles with ill-concealed movement as though someone invisible has just scaled and climbed it.

The shadows seem to press in around them. The DANGER-warnings on the fence, which had seemed like overkill during the daylight hours, suddenly seem to make a whole lot more sense.

“Before explosion,” says Petrova, then, leaning against him completely, pushing him back toward the car with her whole body. She sounds almost eerily calm about it. “I think this is big experiment, no? And I think we are walking on top of it right now.”

“Underground?”

He feels Petrova’s nod more than he sees it, with the very top of her hair tickling against his chin. “I think it is going very wrong.”

“Gee, you think? That fucking monster’s standing in the middle of an office with a bunch of cameras set up around it and the ground is fucking moving and…” Ron exhales a puff of breath as they get close to his car. “Shit. I’ve just – how many earthquakes have you felt, since you moved here?”

“Many.”

“The average American in this state won’t ever feel one, and I’m suddenly very sure we’re not on a fault line,” he says, resisting the urge to hit himself for not seeing it sooner. He releases Petrova’s waist abruptly as soon as her side of the car is open. “Get back in the car. We’ve got research to do.”

“We?”

“I’m not trespassing into that place if I can help it,” he says, once he’s back behind the steering wheel and almost slamming the car into gear. “But I am going to find out what the hell my government thinks it’s doing with a creature that looks like it crawled straight out of a fucking horror movie.”

Petrova’s exhale sounds suddenly shaky above the sound of his car engine. “A-and where do I fit?”

“You’re smart,” he retorts, not caring about the fact that he’s paying her a compliment for once. “You think on your feet. You see shit for what it is, not for what it’s pretending to be. And I… fuck, Tatiana, I can’t do this alone!”

Her reply is instantaneous, though he refuses to look at her now that he’s gone and said her name. “You are not alone, Ronald, you are in car with me,” she comments, matter of fact as always, opening his glove box and rummaging through it as though she owns his car. She mercifully does not comment on him finally calling her Tatiana the way she’s demanded of him since first meeting him. “We can go to library. Ask for map of earthquake lines, no? And we can look into whatever Ignis is.”

“Ignis?”

“It was on fence sign. I see before I see big monster,” She shrugs. “Stupid adventure makes me swallow bubblegum,” she mutters, then, carefully unwrapping a new wad of gum she has somehow unearthed from his glove box. She smiles, popping it into her mouth before holding something else aloft. “This is very cute, where did you get?”

Ron squints at the offending object once he’s taken a sharp turn back toward their neighborhood. “Free keychain,” he says, recognizing the vintage Coca-Cola ad printed on it with some difficulty in the dim light. “Keep it”– he mutters, folding her hand around it and squeezing down a moment to let her know he’s serious –“if you like.”

“I do like. Is very Ameeeeerican, no?”

“Sure is.” Ron sighs. Summons his courage one more time tonight. “Happy birthday, Pet.”

“Ha! You give me birthday present,” she laughs, making his car smell like cherry bubblegum even more. “When is yours? I want to give you leeeettle gift, too.”

“Is fine, you don’t have to.”

“But if I want?”

“I have no idea why you’d want that. It’s in April. We could be dead from a monster invasion by then.”

“Pfah, always such o-p-t-i-m-i-s-m,” she tuts, sounding proud of herself for having spelled that word correctly for once. “When in April, Ronald?”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“Yes it does,” she snorts, propping her feet up on his dashboard before blowing a stray bubble with her gum. It pops loudly in the silence. “Either you tell me, or I make April your birthday month. I will sing for you. I will decorate your car with balloons. I will bake you big cake every week. I will give you one glitter-filled card every day to wish you happy birthday.”

“You would not,” he argues, knowing full well that she would.

“Try me, Ronald.” She sounds very sure of herself. On top of the world, as always, no matter what kind of crazy monsters life throws at her. “I will make sure whole town knows April is your birthday month. Is important, no? You will be eighteen then.”

“It’s on the twentieth. Jesus,” he mutters, “twist my fucking arm.”

Her hum sounds very pleased. “I will put on my calendar.”

Somehow, he doesn’t think he would quite be surprised to see something like Ronald’s birthday! written in all glittery text in an April entry on the calendar she keeps tacked to her wardrobe. Somehow, he thinks that might almost be enough of a wonky lucky charm to see them both still alive by then.

#ron x tatiana #ron speirs #oc: tatiana #basilonefic #I tried to keep this short but then they kept bickering #so now we've got 3k of AU #and y'all are getting a real feel for the dynamic these two will have for the majority of main fic

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rannadylin · 1 year ago

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Today's tea: The Professor! This blend for Tolkien himself is really lovely: Lapsang Souchong (which tends to be a "love it or hate it" tea, I know; and I love it, but it's mellowed out a lot in this one by the other ingredients so even if you are not a wood-smoke aficionado you might like this blend), Mambo, and Honeybush Hazelnut.

Today's knit: Three out of five increase sections are done, two more to go! (Maleme Cardigan in Knit Picks City Tweed DK, Jacquard colorway)

#maleme cardigan #ranna knits #ranna's daily knit and tea #knitting #knitblr #teablr #tea #adagio teas

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cymlea · 9 months ago

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Things To Do In Tampa: A Comprehensive Guide to Florida's Gulf Coast

Tampa offers a dynamic and lively experience for visitors, showcasing a myriad of activities on Florida's Gulf Coast.

Florida is renowned for its diverse attractions, and Tampa stands out as a city designed for both entertainment and relaxation. With a captivating blend of historic architecture and modern landmarks, a culture enriched with Cuban and Spanish influences, bustling business districts, and scenic canals, Tampa emerges as a versatile destination that caters to work, exploration, and leisure.

Discover the myriad activities that Tampa has to offer with this comprehensive guide!

Things To Do In Tampa

Despite its vintage charm, Tampa boasts a multicultural atmosphere where historic buildings are being revitalized into vibrant food halls. Immerse yourself in the complete travel experience with our guide to Tampa's diverse offerings.

Discover Marine Life at The Florida Aquarium While in Tampa, Florida, don't miss the opportunity to explore The Florida Aquarium—an expansive 250,000-square-foot facility accredited by the Association of Zoos and Aquariums. As a 501 non-profit organization situated in downtown Tampa, it stands as one of the premier aquariums in the US. Witness a captivating array of sea creatures and immerse yourself in this publicly operated institution.

Location: 701 Channelside Dr, Tampa, FL 33602

Operating Hours: Open daily from 9:30 AM to 5 PM

Admission: $34.45 per person

Uncover Tampa's Past at Henry B. Plant Museum Venture into the historical realm by visiting the Henry B. Plant Museum, housed in the south wing of Plant Hall on the University of Tampa's campus. Located at 401 West Kennedy Boulevard, this museum offers insights into the Victorian lifestyle during turn-of-the-century Florida. Considered a hidden gem, it conveniently sits near hotels and restaurants around the university campus.

Location: 401 W Kennedy Blvd, Tampa, FL 33606

Operating Hours: Tuesday - Sunday from 10 AM to 5 PM (opens at 12 on Sundays)

Experience Artistic Splendor at The Tampa Theatre For a dose of cultural entertainment, make your way to The Tampa Theatre—an exquisite performing arts space in downtown Tampa. Designed by architect John Eberson, this atmospheric theatre-style movie palace hosts a variety of independent and foreign film productions. Treat yourself to a unique cinematic experience in this beautifully preserved landmark.

Location: 711 N Franklin St, Tampa, FL 33602

Operating Hours: Varies by show/screening

Relax Amid Nature at Lettuce Lake Park Nature enthusiasts will find solace in Lettuce Lake Park, a beloved green space in Tampa. Spanning 240 acres, the park offers walking paths, biking trails, and scenic benches for relaxation. Conveniently located on Fletcher Avenue between Interstate 75 and the University of South Florida, Lettuce Lake Park is complemented by the soothing presence of the Hillsborough River, providing a refreshing escape during warm spells.

Address: 6920 E Fletcher Ave, Tampa, FL 33637

Hours: Open daily from 8 AM to 7 PM

Enjoy Live Performances at The Straz Center for the Performing Arts For aficionados of the performing arts, The Straz Center offers a captivating venue for shows, screenings, and live concerts throughout the year. Originally established in 1987 as the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center and later rebranded in 2009, this beautiful complex is situated in downtown Tampa.

Location: 1010 N Macinnes Pl, Tampa, FL 33602

Operating Hours: Varies by show/screening

Embark on a Splashy Adventure at Adventure Island For a dose of fun in Tampa, look no further than Adventure Island—a conveniently located water park northeast of Tampa, Florida, just across the street from Busch Gardens Tampa Bay. This aquatic haven covers 30 acres and offers water rides, dining options, and various attractions. Many visitors opt for a full trip, combining the thrills of Busch Gardens and Adventure Island.

Location: 10001 McKinley Dr, Tampa, FL 33612

Tickets: $29.99 per person

Experience Thrills at Busch Gardens A must-visit for adrenaline enthusiasts in Tampa, Busch Gardens Tampa Bay is the largest zoo in the region, packed with exhilarating roller coasters and over 12,000 animals. This adventure park seamlessly blends high-caliber rides, adrenaline-pumping thrills, and family-friendly recreation. For a water-themed escapade, explore Busch Gardens' Adventure Island, Tampa's exclusive water park, spanning 30 acres of tropical excitement.

Location: 10165 McKinley Dr, Tampa, FL 33612

Tickets: $84.99 per person

Unwind on the Beautiful Beaches Just a short drive away, Tampa offers access to approximately 35 miles of pristine Gulf of Mexico waters and white sand beaches on the barrier islands of St. Petersburg and Clearwater. Renowned for their exceptional sand quality and environmental preservation, standouts include Fort DeSoto Park, Caladesi Island, and Clearwater Beach. With its undeveloped coastlines, this area imparts a sense of being on a remote island.

Discover the wealth of beaches: Tampa boasts around 35 miles of white sand coastline, providing ample opportunities for relaxation and seaside enjoyment.

Discover the Glazer Children's Museum For families with kids, a visit to the Glazer Children's Museum is a must during their time in Tampa. Boasting around 20 interactive exhibits catering to children of all ages, this family-friendly museum offers an engaging experience.

Location: 110 W Gasparilla Plaza, Tampa, FL 33602

Operating Hours: Tuesday - Sunday from 9:30 AM to 5 PM

Indulge in a Beer Tasting Experience Tampa's brewing legacy dates back to 1896 when the Florida Brewing Company established itself in Ybor City's downtown. While facing challenges due to restrictions and laws, the craft beer scene experienced a resurgence with the establishment of the Tampa Bay Brewing Company a century later.

Diverse Beer Scene: Tampa boasts a thriving brewing culture, with the Florida Brewing Company being a popular choice in Ybor City.

Best Time to Explore Tampa, Florida

Tampa is at its best between September and December, offering a pleasant escape from the oppressive heat and humidity. The breezy conditions of autumn still provide warmth and sunshine, and during these months, hotels often offer enticing deals to attract visitors.

While the peak season for major attractions is from May to August, the weather can be uncomfortably humid. January through April, despite being cooler, tends to be a more expensive period for booking trips.

Optimal Transportation in Tampa

For seamless exploration of Tampa, visitors often find it beneficial to rent a car, especially if planning excursions to Clearwater and St. Pete's beachfront or the artistic enclaves of Sarasota. However, for those intending to stay within downtown or utilize the Telo Line Streetcar, walking or riding may suffice.

Given the residential and widely dispersed nature of the Bay Area, car rental costs, while subject to fluctuations based on supply and peak season factors, are generally reasonable. Commute times may be slightly extended due to the unique driving patterns in the region.

Guide to Tampa's Distinct Neighborhoods

Tampa's allure extends beyond its main attractions, inviting visitors to explore its vibrant neighborhoods that pulse with unique charm.

Hyde Park: Crafted around the time of the first Hillsborough River bridge by railroad magnate Henry B. Plant and Cuban immigrants establishing Ybor City, Hyde Park is a charming area exuding heritage and retro glamour. Nestled by the sea, with leafy tree canopies and early 20th-century brick lanes, Hyde Park features upscale Hyde Park Village, a walkable hub for dining and shopping. To the east, Bayshore Boulevard offers a waterfront promenade for biking and strolling.

Channelside District: Packed with tourist delights, the Channelside District hosts Sparkman Wharf—a riverfront entertainment venue offering microbrews, musical performances, and diverse dining options. The Florida Aquarium, home to over 8,000 species, adds to the district's allure with captivating exhibits on conservation initiatives, coral reefs, and marine life. Dolphin trips and hands-on experiences, like the No Bone Zone habitat, enhance the Channelside District's appeal.

Downtown: A blend of historical and contemporary cultural attractions defines downtown Tampa. Renowned sites such as the Florida Museum of Photographic Arts, the Tampa Museum of Art, and the Glazer Children's Museum cater to art enthusiasts and families alike. The David A. Straz, Jr. Center for the Performing Arts hosts Broadway musicals, opera-ballet performances, and musical events. Corey Hixon Waterfront Park hosts year-round outdoor events, while the Tampa Riverwalk offers a scenic stroll along the Hillsborough River, lined with diverse eateries and bars.

Dining Recommendations in Tampa

The culinary scene in Tampa Bay mirrors its diverse culture, offering indulgent beverages at beachfront bistros and taverns. Visitors can savor iconic Tampa dishes, choosing from an array of options, including haute cuisine, farm-to-table eateries, and delightful seafood and traditional Spanish meals.

Top Breakfast Spots: Samaria Cafe, Nicki's Omelette & Grill, Oxford Exchange Lunch Favorites: Oystercatchers, Ulele, Al's Finger Licking Good Bar-B-Que Dinner Hotspots: Vino E Pasta, On Swann, Wright's Gourmet House Best Bars: M. Bird, Fly Bar, The Orpheum, Bad Monkey

Where To Stay In Tampa, Florida

Tampa Bay offers a diverse range of lodging options, catering to both luxury seekers and those on business or leisure trips. Entertainment abounds, making Tampa an ideal destination for various needs.

Luxury Hotels

The Tampa Edition

Cost: Starting at $709 per night

Address: 500 Channelside Dr., Tampa, 33602

Amenities: Fitness Center, Outdoor Swimming Pool, Garden

Floridan Palace Hotel

Cost: Starting at $299 per night

Address: 905 North Florida Avenue, Tampa, FL 33602

Amenities: Fitness Center, Restaurant

Mid-Tier Hotels

Hyatt Place Downtown Tampa

Cost: Starting at $349 per night

Address: 325 N Florida Avenue, Tampa, 33602

Amenities: Fitness Center, Outdoor Swimming Pool, Restaurant

Hotel South Tampa & Suites

Cost: Starting at $199 per night

Address: 3314 South Dale Mabry, Tampa, FL 33629

Amenities: Swimming Pool, Fitness Center

Budget Hotels

Hilton Garden Inn Tampa East

Cost: Starting at $166 per night

Address: 10309 Highland Manor Drive, Tampa, FL 33610

Amenities: Restaurant, Swimming Pool

Sleep Inn & Suites Tampa South

Cost: Starting at $179 per night

Address: 6231 S Dale Mabry Highway, Tampa, 33611

Amenities: Spa and Wellness Center, Fitness Center

Visiting Tampa: Helpful Tips

Sunpass Convenience: Consider obtaining a Sunpass, a prepaid digital permit for hassle-free highway travel to various destinations.

CityPASS Savings: Opt for the Tampa Bay CityPASS, providing discounted access to the city's premier attractions. Priced at $97 for children and $107 for adults, it offers substantial savings.

Freshwater Caution: Exercise caution when encountering freshwater, especially outside designated swimming springs. Florida's waters are home to over a million alligators, emphasizing the need for vigilance.

A Day Well Spent in Tampa

For those with just 24 hours, Tampa offers a condensed yet fulfilling experience. Explore Downtown Tampa starting with the Glazer Children's and art museums. Next, embark on an adventurous journey at Busch Gardens.

As the evening unfolds, consider a visit to one of the local breweries. Hyde Park beckons with its excellent dining and shopping options, while the Channelside District provides a vibrant backdrop for live performances.

Engage in Unique Activities

Even if water sports aren't your forte, Tampa's outdoor adventures offer compelling reasons to visit. The region boasts a diverse array of outdoor activities to suit various interests.

FAQ

Q: What is Tampa known for? Tampa is renowned for attractions such as the Florida Aquarium, the exhilarating Busch Gardens, the vibrant Ybor City, and being the birthplace of the Cuban sandwich. Additionally, the city is celebrated for its lush gardens, cigar manufacturing heritage, modern museums, fine dining establishments, and picturesque sidewalks.

Q: Is Tampa better than Orlando? Tampa is preferred by beach enthusiasts due to its proximity to the coast and the surrounding Tampa Bay. Orlando, another city in Central Florida, is favored by those who are fans of Universal and Disney attractions.

Q: Is Tampa Riverwalk worth visiting? Absolutely! Tampa Riverwalk is a must-visit attraction, offering a scenic stroll along the Garrison Channel and Hillsborough River. With water-based activities, beachfront restaurants, museums, and year-round festivals, it provides an enriching and enjoyable experience.

#Tampa #Florida #urban #city #USA #United States #buildings #travel #journey #outdoors #street #architecture

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cleolinda · 1 year ago

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This does not spark Joy (Dior, 2018 & 2019)

PREVIOUSLY ON: Jean Patou's Joy (1930) was voted the Scent of the Century, but for some mysterious reason, it's not manufactured anymore.

Dior fucking killed Joy.

I won't bury the lede here at all. It was Dior. And I love a good Dior, don't get me wrong. But in August 2018, LVMH Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton (which owns every damn thing, including Sephora and half the brands in it) bought the Jean Patou company (which had already changed hands twice). More importantly, they bought the name "Joy." And, somehow, their subsidiary Parfums Christian Dior had their own Joy, complete with Jennifer Lawrence ad campaign, ready to release two weeks later.

For a while, Designer Parfums was at least allowed to manufacture and sell Jean Patou's Joy in France. But now, according to the Patou website, the company's fragrances "are no longer in production." When "authorized outlets" run out, they're out. Because apparently, it was that important for Dior to keep anyone else from using the name "Joy."

So what did they replace the Scent of the Century with?

I had heard that Joy by Dior Intense was a huge improvement on the initial Joy by Dior (which infuriated fragrance aficionados itself by existing, clearly), and I'm glad I tried it first, because if I had started with the original ("original") Dior, I would have punched a wall. But let's start with that: I kept trying Dior Joy #1 over and over because I couldn't remember what it smelled like. It is literally, in the literal sense of literally, forgettable. I tried it one more time today in order to write this paragraph, and: it's soapy white musk. Which upset me initially, I remember now, because I'm just really not a fan of soapy/laundry white musk, but that's on me; I've seen user reviews that do really like Joy by Dior. On me, it's just bubblebath froth, eventually a sweet citrus that peeks up from under it, and a drydown that adds some vanilla to that. That's joyous, I guess?

What I will say is, unlike the other perfume that made me think of bubble baths, it didn't give me a panic attack, so it's got one up on Chanel. But it's just... was this necessary? Did we not have enough soapy white citrus-vanilla musks in the world? At the time, I was just asking myself this rhetorically, but then I kept reading up on the Dior Joy(s). As Victoria at Bois de Jasmin points out, the actual fragrance is a copy of yet another perfume:

The result is that Dior Joy is Allure Lite. The rose and jasmine are folded into a sandalwood accord reminiscent of Chanel’s fragrance. From the top notes to the drydown, Joy follows the course of Allure, but in a softer, more transparent interpretation. The mandarin peel dusted with sugar, the rose blended with the lemony jasmine, a touch of apricot and orange blossom that melt into the sandalwood and custard-like vanilla. Even the same contrast between the sweet citrus and creamy woods is maintained.

Mark Behnke at Colognoisseur:

[Dior perfumer François Demachy] chose to create a mash-up of two huge best-sellers. The citrus opening is straight out of Chanel Allure and the floral heart is Dior J'Adore. In other words, it is just a re-tread.

DIOR! WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING DOING!

I won't say that Joy Intense (Dior #2) is more like Jean Patou's, but at least it has less of a soapy musk opening. Let's compare the notes:

Joy by Dior (2018): White musk, Grasse rose, Grasse jasmine, mandarin orange, patchouli, bergamot, cedar, sandalwood.

Joy by Dior Intense (2019): Neroli, bergamot, Grasse jasmine, Grasse rose, vanilla, patchouli, musk, sandalwood.

[Note: Grasse, "the perfume capital of the world," is a region in France famous for its role in the history of French perfume; it is especially known for jasmine and roses. "Grasse rose," "May rose," and "Rose de Mai" all refer to Rosa x centifolia. "Grasse jasmine" is Jasminum grandiflorum, as opposed to, say, the licorice-friendly jasmine sambac.]

Further info from dior.com:

Get the absolute fuck out of here with this BOTTLE and this LOGO, what are you even doing. I did not even know a perfume could eat crackers

Joy by Dior, per the official website:

JOY by Dior Eau de Parfum is a bright smile, and a pure concentration of joy in a bottle. A juicy, vibrant top note gives way to an enveloping white heart of flowers and musks, just like a soft caress.

Again, I hated Dior's first Joy when I first put it on, but that's my own bias. It was just sheer disappointment that they centered this on synthetic white musk—you vaulted the Scent of the Century for this?

The "Intense" version:

Oh well if there’s a star on the bottom I guess I’m not mad anymore??

JOY by Dior Eau de Parfum Intense is a new olfactory burst, a scent of joy wherein flowers celebrate and explode in all their faceted beauty. The dazzling light of the juicy Citrus blends with the colorful shine of Rose and Grasse Jasmine, and is heightened by an enveloping woody echo of Sandalwood tinged with Vanilla. The fragrance results in a floral firework.

Fuck the actual fuck outta here. "Firework" my ass. It's fine, I guess. It smells like vanilla lemonade and some jasmine on me, with a pleasant lingering drydown. Not just the smell of lemonade, but sort of the feeling of happiness you get when drinking a sugary glass of it on a hot summer day. Don't ever say I don't try to be fair. And it's 1000% better without the white musk. I honestly wouldn't mind wearing this under a different name, but it's just so adequate. I put on Jean Patou's Joy, even a diminished Joy, and it was a revelation. I put on the Dior, even the "good" version, and it smells like copying what the popular girls wear in hopes that they’ll like you. Thank God they didn't stuff some Ambroxan in there while they were at it. The only reason Dior didn't dupe some trendy note from Baccarat Rouge 540 is because Francis Kurkdjian didn't work for them yet. What the fuck are you people doing.

Back to Colognoisseur:

[It] is puzzling why Dior would make the decision to produce a new perfume with the same name of a masterpiece. The cynic in me says because they’ve unleashed their market research staff and found out most consumers have no idea there is a previous classic perfume called Joy. [...] Joy by Dior is a good perfume put together via the perfume assembly line of focus groups and market research; as cynical as it gets in other words.

This is absolutely my take as well. I wore Jean Patou on one hand and Dior's Joy Intense on the other and compared how they unfolded in real time, and what struck me most at that point was how gourmand-adjacent the Dior is. Not entirely so, but the vanilla lemonade I get is far more in line with the cupcake and burnt sugar notes (WHICH I LIKE!) that fragrance brands have put in everything since Mugler’s Angel, rather than just let a floral be good—superlative—at being a floral. But the marketing department says that the Costliest Perfume in the World isn’t on trend in the 21st century; we can charge plenty for something simpler, more predictable, more pandering.

My other take is that Dior's Joy perfumes are formulated to inevitably be cheaper than Jean Patou's Joy, even what Joy was at the end of the company's life. I have smelled at least a Platonic shadow of the Costliest Perfume in the World, and (I don't care how much Grasse jasmine Dior claims is in theirs) this ain't it. I don't blame François Demachy; he was given a brief and he did his job. The man made not one but two versions of Hypnotic Poison. He has done more interesting things than this. Dior’s Joy has "cash grab" written all over it and it's not even bad. It's just WHY. Why would you DO THIS. I am going to stay mad and die mad about this. Jesus Christ. You can't even, like, gently reformulate the Jean Patou, put out the Demachy versions as flanker fragrances, and market them all? You have four kinds of Poison RIGHT NOW and you can’t figure this out?

And I wore these three perfumes for three weeks, I want you to know that. I alternated them day by day, sometimes wearing two at a time to compare. I gave them all many, many chances. And besides the fact that I personally don't like white musk very much, the two Dior Joys are not bad. They're not! They're just accessories to a minor act of cultural vandalism, is all. Imagine taking Botticelli's The Birth of Venus and saying, we're going to throw this out so we can have a photographer recreate it with Jennifer Lawrence. Everyone's wearing Dior Spring/Summer 2023 designs (including Venus). It actually looks pretty cool, I guess. Great, so we don't need the Botticelli anymore? When does the trash get picked up, Tuesday?

Even Disney doesn't vault its animated movies anymore after it remakes them as live action. Maybe I can scrape up enough couch change to buy a bottle of Real Actual Joy and some DVDs before anyone else gets some big ideas.

Perfume discussion masterpost

#perfume #perfume discussion #long post #perfume: jean patou #perfume: dior #AND ANOTHER THING #note: rose #note: jasmine #note: white musk

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