#Christmas Store Montreal

[teenytinyjimin]

je ne sais pas (j. hoseok)

dans mon esprit tout divague, (in my mind everything goes wild)

je me perds dans tes yeux (i lose myself in your eyes)

je me noie dans la vague de ton regard amoureux (i drown myself in the wave of your loving gaze)

je ne veux que ton âme divaguant sur ma peau (i only want your soul going wild on my skin)

summary: in which two strangers spend an unforgettable day together without actually getting to verbally understand each other.

pairing: hoseok x reader

word count: 2.8k

tags: fluff, language barrier, idol!hoseok, quebecois!reader, strangers to lovers, im bad at this tagging stuff

warnings: none, just enjoy some sweet hoseok fluff <3

author’s note: im really excited about this one yall 😭 i love the idea of language barrier romance because just think about it... u love someone so much that talking to them doesn't matter as much as the memories u create with them.. god ok ill stop speaking please please enjoy!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

The province of Quebec is often quite peaceful for about 85% of the year, with the exceptions typically being one of two things. First, there's always the typical influx of tourists that happens during peak times of the year like summer, Christmas, things like that. However the second exception is typically related to whatever artist is in Montreal for the Canadian leg of their world tour. It wasn't uncommon for there to be a little bit of buzz around the famous singer in question, however no one seemed to go harder than kpop fans when their group or soloist of choice was coming for a show or two.

You weren't really a fan of kpop in the way that many of your friends were. Sure, you've listened to some songs before, but you never felt the desire to get invested in any of the artists or the lore that came with them. It would be nice to hear your friends babble on about a new song that was released or a new tour that was announced, however you were absolutely not expecting the absolute freakout that was to come when BTS announced that they'd be doing a show in Montreal.

"Can you believe it?" One friend asked you with excitement. Yes, you could. They were famous. Of course they were going to come to Canada for a world tour. It's not that you weren't excited for your friends, who called themselves 'Army', but you just weren't as invested so it didn't mean as much to you. It also didn't help that a lot of their discussions with fellow fans and the things they'd post relating to BTS on their social media profiles were in English.

The majority of Quebecois people were able to communicate in English as well as their native language of French, but for some reason your family lived under a rock and you didn't learn anything beyond basic greetings and conversations in English. You felt rather left out because it felt like you were behind your friends and everyone else around you, however as you grew older you tended to not let it bother you that much. Since French is a prominent language in Quebec, you weren't bothered about language barriers and knew you could get around and live life normally without worry.

Since your friends were much deeper down the Bangtan rabbit hole, they were able to secure floor tickets to their Montreal show and were extremely busy completely overthinking the event and what they wanted to wear. It was now the day before the show and they were last-minute panicking, roaming the stores of downtown Montreal to put together outfits that were both cute and appropriate for the vibe of the concert.

Given that they were rather busy with this, you decided that this would be a weekend to yourself where you could peacefully do whatever you wanted. The quaint cafe you work at full-time decided to close for the weekend given the occasion (apparently the owner was also an Army), so it was a perfect opportunity for you to go down to the local park and do some reading on a bench.

And that's exactly what you did. You found yourself parked on the lawn of Mount Royal Park, right next to the lake. You brought some light reading with you, a small romance novel that involved the typical coffee shop trope, prepared to do some reading but also some people watching in between. It was absolutely perfect, and you couldn't have asked for a better way to spend the weekend. As you peacefully read your cliche novel, cup of iced coffee from a local coffee shop in-hand, you thought the day couldn't get any better. Until it did.

"Hey, excuse me, can you help me?" You looked up from your book to see a boy standing a short distance away from you. He had the warmest smile on his face and his eyes were bright with cheer. You tilted your head slightly, not too sure what he was asking. After a minute of silence, his smile dropped slightly.

"Uh... E-English?" He asked. It was clear that he was struggling with his words as well, even though you didn't speak the language. You shook your head, a slight frown on your face. "Français?" You ask in response, to which he mirrors you and shakes his head in return. The boy looks down for a second, clearly stumped as to what to do at this point. Part of you thought that he was about to walk away, however his feet didn't move from where he was standing.

After a second, he looked back up, his sweet smile once again appearing on his face. With his phone in hand, he pointed at it, then pointed at himself, then pointed at you. Was he asking for your number? Raising an eyebrow, you started to shake your head, however you watched as his smile dropped again and he shook his head rapidly. "No! No!" He said frantically, before mimicking the act of taking a photo, making a little 'click click' noise. He wanted a photo!

Finally understanding what he was saying, you grin and nod, causing him to squeal in delight. He approached you briefly to hand you his phone before backing up toward the lake a little more. You start to turn his phone landscape before he shakes his head and lets out a little yelp, indicating that he wanted the photo to be in portrait mode. You giggle at his antics as he attempts to pose in the way he wants, admiring his efforts to not only have a good photo but also to communicate with you.

Once it seems like he's ready for you to take the photo, you begin clicking the photo button and watch as he begins to move a little bit to hit different styles of poses. And wow, this man was incredible at modeling. You watched in wonder as he effortlessly moved his body in all kinds of directions, going from casual to silly to cute and back to casual. He was absolutely gorgeous, there was no denying that. A ten in a world of fives.

After a couple minutes, he stops posing and giddily bounces back over to you. When he takes his phone back to look at all the photos, he makes a couple of 'woaaahhhh' noises, clearly impressed with your photography skills. You turn away as a blush creeps to your cheeks, flattered that he's happy with the photos. When you look back you watch him slightly bow to you in thanks before pointing to himself. "Hoseok," He says, making sure to enunciate each part of his name in the correct way so that you know how to say it.

You smile and nod, offering your name back to him, to which his smile grows into one of the most beautiful smiles you have ever seen. If it weren't for your impeccable self-control, you probably would have fainted the very first time he smiled at you, given how absolutely charming he was. However, this most recent smile made you a little weak on your feet. You were able to tough it out and stay strong, but God, he was just stunning.

You go to sit back down on your spot in the grass, but before you get the chance to you feel a gentle hand grasp your wrist. Face hot with shyness, you peer back over to him and notice his smile has dropped. You watch as he points toward the exit of the park and into the main city, and gives you a 'come on' motion, indicating that he wanted you to come with him. If this would have happened a few minutes ago when he first approached you, you might not have taken the offer. But now that you've gotten to somewhat know this breathtaking stranger, it was an offer you couldn't turn down. Grabbing your book and iced coffee from off the ground, you decide to follow him out of the park.

As you step back onto the streets of Montreal, walking with this random man, you watch as he turns to you and thinks for a second. You can tell he was trying to figure out how to communicate his next thought, so you remain silent and patient. After a second, he points at his eyes, and then gives this huge gesture with his arms, almost like he's expressing something blowing up. Letting out a soft giggle, you tilt your head slightly, resulting in a laugh coming from his own mouth. His laugh was so loud, sweet, and full of joy, and it was like pure honey dripping from his tongue. He retries his previous charades, now acting like he is looking at something with his hand above both of his eyes. He then goes 'woahh!!' and gives an amazed look, and you realize that he's asking to see some of the highlights of the city. With a soft nod, you take his hand, watching a soft blush creep to his cheeks as you pull him along the street and show him everything he needs to see in your beautiful city.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

After spending hours with Hoseok, showing him about everything in Montreal and taking a picture of him with it, you found yourselves once again back in the park where you first met. It was a rather chaotic day, pulling the boy around and watching his face light up at absolutely everything, but what seemed to be weirder was the fact that multiple times during your tour you guys received a few looks and even whispers. Every time that it happened, Hoseok would indicate to you that he wanted to move on and go to the next spot while also pulling up the light scarf that he had around his neck to cover his mouth and nose. You thought that it was rather bizarre but dismissed it as people being disrespectful since he was a rather loud and excited tourist.

Now, though, it was just you and him, sitting in the grass in front of the lake as you ate a late lunch/early dinner. He asked you to go with him to a local store where he went around and picked out a bunch of ready-made food as well as a bottle of champagne, paying for it all and implying that he wanted to eat it with you back at the park. Considering this stranger was doing more than anyone had ever done for you in the last twenty-something years of your life, you were beyond flattered and at this point you were hardcore swooning for him.

You half expected your meal to be quiet and consist of you guys looking at the lake, looking at each other, and silently eating your meal. But this was Hoseok, the man you had learned was anything but quiet. Even though he couldn't speak your language and you couldn't speak his, he was telling you all kinds of stories through the power of charades and sound effects. For most of the time, he had you in tears, laughing at his impeccable sense of humor and all-around silliness. But he also provided you with moments of peace so you could eat without choking, which was rather respectful of him, you thought.

After a while of fun storytelling, you two fell silent. You gazed over at the lake, watching as the sun made the water shimmer, and let out a sigh. When you looked back over to Hoseok, you caught him staring at you, causing a blush to creep to your cheeks. Raising an eyebrow, you nudged him as a way to ask 'what are you looking at?'. Shaking his head, he hesitantly stretched out his arm to wrap it around your waist. Just by looking at him you could tell he was internally freaking out, his eyes wide with nervousness. You smiled softly and inched your way closer to him, accepting his embrace as you rested your head on his shoulder.

There was something about this man that was so much different from anyone else that you had ever met. His charisma, his kindness, his energy – all of it was so attractive. It was the fact that he wasn't just a pretty face, he was a pretty human. You could tell he was raised right with a heart of gold and you felt beyond lucky to have ever met him in the first place. For him to have asked you of all the people in Montreal to take a picture of him made you feel extremely lucky, because had he not approached you, the two of you would have never met.

He pulled back a little bit to prompt you to remove your head and look at him. You watched as he pointed at himself, then cleared his throat before singing a little bit of a song. His singing voice was as sweet as can be, and you were about to just sit there and admire him, until you realized that the song he was singing was familiar. You didn't quite know what the name of the song was, and he wasn't singing it in quite the right tone, but you knew it was by BTS. The kpop group that was currently in Montreal and about to perform the following day.

Your mouth gaped open as you realized what was happening. You didn't even realize that you had been spending the entire day with a member of BTS. The people looking and whispering throughout were probably people who recognized him, not people who were judging him. And he was hiding his face because he didn't want to be recognized. He just wanted to spend the day with a beautiful girl and feel like a normal human being. You didn't blame him for not telling you sooner, though. It's not like you're a diehard fan of his group, but you probably wouldn't have looked at him the same way had he told you immediately.

After processing what was happening, you closed your mouth and smiled, giving him a vigorous nod. Once he gave you a smile in return, you went back to resting your head on his shoulder and grabbing your glass of champagne to hold. You wanted to show him that it was cool, everything was fine, and things weren't going to change. You liked him as Hoseok, the boy he introduced himself as when he eagerly asked you for a picture earlier. Not the kpop idol that stands in front of thousands on a stage and performs for them.

As time continued to pass and the sun got to a point where the day started to become sunset, you two sat in blissful silence while enjoying one another's presence. After a while Hoseok once again nudged you, causing you to look up at him. You watched as he once again admired your face, a blush creeping to your cheeks as you became shy from the eye contact. Just as you were about to look away he reached his hand over to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, and then rested that hand against your cheek.

At this point there was no need for charades because all you needed to do was look into his eyes and he told you absolutely everything you needed to know. He dipped his head down slightly as you both pulled each other in for a kiss, his sweet lips meeting yours in absolute harmony. Your stomach did about five thousand backflips as adrenaline coursed through your veins and your brain went fuzzy. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, this was a moment that you were waiting for practically all day. Little did you know, however, this was a moment that he had been anticipating even before he spoke to you for the first time. It all started when he saw you from a distance and his heart almost beat out of his chest because he was so enamored by your beauty.

As you both pulled away from the kiss, you watched as his mouth curled into the sweetest heart smile and he leaned in once again to peck the tip of your nose. You knew that today was going to be absolutely perfect, but your new romance made it about ten times better than perfect if that was even possible.

It's safe to say that the next day you were at barricade at the biggest concert of the year in Montreal, courtesy of BTS' resident rapper and dancer, J-Hope. Or, as you knew him, your smiley Hoseok.

[laithraihan]

Would you be comfortable sharing any personal info (age, profession, relationship status, etc...)? Completely understand if you're not but it's always really interesting learning about the lives of ppl I admire. Again, if that's not something you wanna do it's totally understandable! I love your art!!

Ah thank you so much 🫶 and sure I dont mind sharing some stuff but to be very honest Im not an interesting person, so I'm sorry in advance for disappointing you.

So I'm a woman (or something like that) even though I use a male pen name for art, Im 22 years old, 151cm (4'11"), the eldest daughter who has two teenage siblings who are both taller than me and make fun of me for being short. I do not have a profession and I do not go to school due to a disability I will not disclose. Im a lesbian engaged to a butch, we've been together for almost 4 years (our anniversary is in August)

My favorite season is winter because all the bugs are dead and I despise summer because the bugs are alive. Im also really scared of butterflies for some reason. Im scared of winged bugs in general. Ive never seen a cockroach in my life but I'd probably kill myself if I saw one. I really hate bugs. The winters are harsh here but I like walking outside when theres light snow falling at night. Im also a bit obsessed with Christmas lights but I dont celebrate Christmas, I dont follow any religion in general but my family is Muslim so Ive been raised with that. If I could just put Christmas lights in my room all year then I would do that. They look really pretty.

About my ethnicity I think everyone knows Im Algerian already, well Ive only been to Algeria once when I was like 8 years old so I dont really remember anything. All I know is that my uncle would keep telling my dad that I convinced him to stop smoking and that he's eternally grateful for that but I literally cannot remember what I did or said back then so I just pretended I knew what he was talking about. Anyway. Id like to go there again one day. I most likely will go soon in the future so it makes me happy to think about it.

My first language is French and Im somewhat fluent in English but it needs more work. Whenever I speak English I have to think harder about the words that come out of my mouth and I start saying things that dont make sense. But my pronunciation is good so other people just assume Im fluent. Also I understand Derja (Algerian Arabic) when people talk to me out loud but I cant form sentences and respond back so I just answer people in French. I know how to read Arabic script and I understand basic words but again I cant form sentences. As for Japanese I can only read Hiragana and Katakana and a bit of Kanji, and my understanding of the language is worse than Arabic, so I practice by translating Japanese song lyrics, reading news articles and talking with Japanese users online

Honestly I dunno what else to say, I dont really have any special skills or anything like that. Unless you count memorizing all the metro stations in Montreal but thats only because I had to use public transport all the time when I was a kid because my parents never felt like driving me to my appointments. At that point I probably visited every single station because I had to go to many random places. I dont have a drivers license but I prefer walking to places in general even though there are no stores near my neighborhood, but I think it's better for me because I get to walk more. I think I really like the idea of travelling in general but I dont have friends for that, my parents also wouldnt allow me to hang out with friends so it's a bit unfortunate

Oh and lately Ive been enjoying making eggs for some reason, I think Im good at doing that. But I only cook whenever Im hungry and I rarely feel hungry so I dont cook many eggs. I also dont like cleaning dishes so I avoid making huge meals in general. I dont really eat much in the first place but I still like food. I really like going to restaurants too. I just like going outside in general. I like listening to music and talking with people, normal stuff like that. Im running out of things to say so I'll probably just stop there.

[spicyclover]

Late hours

Summary: You are working late at the night in the office, and a particular person comes to bother you.

Enjoy, and let me know if you like it! 

Warning: the beginning of a smut +18! 

“Working late?” You hear Mick's voice mumble in your ear. 

You lift your head and slowly turn to face him. One of his hands hangs on your chair while the other gently rests on the table, trapping you in his embrace. You nod your head. 

“I’m surprised you’re still here at this hour. Aren’t you supposed to take a flight to Switzerland?” You said, turning back to your computer.

“My flight got delayed due to the weather. I’m stuck here a little longer.” 

You can feel his breath on your neck, and you shiver with apprehension. His presence feels suddenly intimidating for you. You are really horny, and he knows it. You cried this morning because you couldn’t do it the third time today. For no other reason than that, you had to go to work. This pissed you off because you know you won’t see him for days.

“I want you to come with me,” he mumbles as his hands caress your waist. Your breath cuts off when he touches you. You have to resist! You’re still at work.

“I need to work,” you mumble as Mick nuzzles his face into your neck. 

“Please,” he whispers, pressing kisses on your skin. Goosebumps through your body, and you have trouble swallowing your saliva.

You have never been able to resist him, and he knows it. He feels your mental defences are weakening more and more against his lips. His tongue passes from time to time along your neck, making you moan.

You lean your head to the side to give him the field for your torture. When he sucks your skin to mark you, your barriers fall, and you turn to him and kiss him.

You get up from your chair and face him, and he gently puts you towards the table, sweeping your computer from the house. Mick pushes your thighs to the sides with his knees, and you come and grab your legs around his waist, lifting you effortlessly.

“Mick,” you mumble in half-hearted objection. 

“Shush,” he said, pressing his lips against yours. 

“Give me five more minutes. I promise I’ll be yours after,” you say, reluctantly walking away from his kisses. An informed complaint leaves Mick’s lips, but he gives in to your request while suffering loudly. “Go in the hall. I’ll come in a few minutes.”

He walks away, not without pulling on the straps of your dress. You laugh slowly before you get back into your business and go back to work. Mick has been waiting for 15 minutes and can’t take it anymore. At the same time, you told him five, and he left you ten.

“You ready?” 

“Yeah. Uh, I think, we’re the last ones here, so I have to turn on the alarm, and we’ll be ready to go.” You said while putting your stuff in your bag.

You are trying to find the key for the alarm when Mick takes your arm and makes you turn to him. You are ready to say something when he cuts you off. 

“Merry Christmas.”

“Christmas is next week.”

“Yeah, I know. But you don’t want to go to Switzerland with me, and we won’t see each other until next year, so...” He gives you a little jewellery box.

You open the little box. This one contains a necklace, not a necklace, but the necklace, that you saw several weeks ago when you were in Montreal in a beautiful jewelry store. After seeing the four numbers on, you had to spend several minutes contemplating the jewel before finally detaching yourself from it the small label. It made you sad, but you never told Mick you were interested.

“I saw you looking at it in the store. Since we met, you never wanted me to offer you anything.” He said, taking your head in his hands. “You deserve thousands of gifts no matter what’s the price. You’re worth a thousand times more than all the gold in the world. You’re bathed in sunlight.” He ends by taking the necklace between his fingers to carry it around your neck. 

He moves slowly, leaving his hands rubbed against your skin. You have no words, tears threaten to flow, and you only want to stay in his warm and comforting arms for the rest of your days.

“Whatever our souls are made of...” he quotes Emily Brontë in your hear. 

“His and mine are the same.” You finish with a breath while looking at the in crave.

[leam1983]

The Only War we Shouldn't Care About

You know what time it is. December's a few short weeks away, most stores are starting to freak about Christmas, I've already covered my shopping for Walt and Sarah - all that's left is for the seasonal classics to settle in. There's just one classic I don't want to deal with.

Up here in Montreal, the War on Christmas is this absurd Conservative bugaboo we look at derisively, as we tend to wish one another Happy Holidays. Legally, whether you celebrate or not, no matter if you're Jewish, Muslim, Sikh or Buddhist, you'll get a certain amount of time off from your employer, between mid-December and early January. That's all it is to us - time off. If you don't celebrate, your only recourse is to not decorate and, well, maybe show an ounce of patience for TV networks who won't have gotten the message. They obviously won't have; the Western-dominant culture practically demands its yearly re-appropriation of Pagan elements like the effective transformation of a tree into what's effectively a votive symbol, even if you do it from an Atheist perspective. We ask of the right to cling to memories of the last Season of Plenty, as that's what our ornaments are - the brief presentation of an evergreen tree into the affected appearance of a fruit-bearing tree - and I can definitely see how that can be overbearing.

Add to that the more overtly religious aspects - what actually gets the Kirk Camerons of this world crowing about persecution in the most laughable way imaginable; and it's easy to get the sense that for several people, Christmas Season can be, well, too much.

It explains the seasonal blues, the way some workplaces cut the Gordian knot and simply ban seasonal decorations altogether or the way others default to a neutral "Happy Holidays", up here. It's fair of some people to expect the legally-provided time off with no further requirements.

The thing is, some of my remote colleagues are very Christian. Not in the sense you might be familiar with if you're American; they're still a lot more into tolerance and general goodwill than what you might consider the norm for these types - and for them, Christmas isn't quite religious enough, as strange as it might seem. They're not pushing it into Cromwellian excess, but they do get the sense that this is a holiday meant to celebrate renewed hope, spiritually speaking - and I've seen Nicole's WFH office setup start to feature both a Santa Claus figure and a small Nativity diorama. Nicole is the sweetest Compliance Officer you'll ever meet, she's technically retired from the industry but joined us to round out her pension - and she's a hardcore believer, coming from first-generation Sicilian immigrants to Canada.

On the one hand, she's a "good" Theist, in that she isn't overbearing in her spirituality, the same way we avoid discussion topics like war and politics in our workplace-focused Slack channels. On the other, when she says "God bless you", she means it. It's always a bit of a shock, when you're used to everyone and their mother tossing that offhandedly. It makes the less tolerant Theists - usually Evangelicals - that we'll run into while shopping around town, sort of stand out like a sore thumb.

I try and conflate Christmas Season, considering all this, into a time where all of us are allowed to be openly spiritual in the broadest sense possible. If you don't practice anything and are a hardlining Atheist, you could say it's a great time for self-reflection and for preparation. It's a great time to focus on the more holistic aspects of existence, as even Skeptics like me could agree that meeting people can be good for the soul. Putting more time down at the soup kitchen isn't a question of racking up more Redemption Points or whatever, it's about meeting people at a time where my potential assistance will be most useful. Nights are getting cold, warm meals are starting to require some investment of time and resources, and if you have no warm place and no kitchen to work in, you're not going to get that. That's pretty much the extent of my spirituality. Unsurprisingly, it's gotten surprised looks out of some colleagues during our Zoom meetings.

"You're not worried? I mean, you lost people, haven't you? Don't you think you have a soul?"

The fact is I just don't know. Considering, why bother imposing my beliefs on anyone else? Why bother trying to pay lip service to anyone else's belief or lack thereof? We'll decorate the condo because Walt and Sarah love that stuff, but I've been the exact time to forget to pull out the boxes of decorations until December 20th. It'll look pretty for a week or two, then we'll pack it all back in - same as Halloween.

Maybe there is an afterlife, but it's not worth any respect if my accession to it depends on my putting the right little Caucasian Porcelain Baby in my Nativity scene made up of equally whitewashed characters in someone else's distorted story of Middle-Eastern displacement.

So, maybe consider putting your chips down on all the other seasonal symbols, instead: the clean smell of the first few snowfalls, the way cold air always feels cleaner than anything hanging in summertime urban haze, the taste of a good cup of hot cocoa after some exposure to the elements, the return of Sweater Weather, the way the season's blithe consumerism always intersects with your younger relatives getting "the best Christmas ever" every single year as their eyes light up at the sight of the One Thing They Wanted - or the way it all translates to base thoughtfulness between adults.

Kindness. Brotherly love. Friendship. The giving of oneself, really. Things anyone of any culture or religious background could agree on.

That, to me, seems essential. Far, far more than anything related to Christianity.

[acetechne]

Queb D3 please? Also I just noticed the highlighters(??) and- damn. That's amazing. The drawings look so good!

he's crying because mr lego asked why montreal (literal island) needs so many bridges

sorry this one came out at a weird angle - i was being Compelled to watch christmas movies and was drawing on my knees at a weird angle

also i am INTENSELY AMUSED that i've been apologizing for the crappy materials every other post and it wasn't even obvious, pics and tldr explanation of my set up below for #posterity

love these dollarama sketchbooks. i don't see them as often anymore but i collect them when i do see them - they don't fall apart like other sketchbooks from there. Since they're cheap you don't worry about ruining them but they're still pretty enough to want to use them.

i usually use mostly pen because pencil still smudges / i hate erasing and so i like to sketch in ballpoint BUT you can do some nice pencil sketches in these too. the ballpoint pen i'm using is one i got offered at the corner store last week - it's a bit smudgy and goopy for my taste but it's always nice to use a new pen for the Sensory and Visual Experiences.

(apart from not knowing where the hell my brushes are) i use highlighters because

1. parents have a lot of cheap school supplies from me and the siblings / office supplies that have accumulated and

2. they are transparent so you can layer them and they dont bleed through like markers would on this paper.

it's always nice to add splashes of colour when you're doodling (and if you're still in school or at work and have this kind of stuff accessible, it's something that's easy to experiment with and practice in the margins of your notes. maybe it's the undiagnosed neurodivergencies talkin but doodling on my notes is just a Constant in my life for better or for worse.)

oh yeah and limiting your colour palette is always beneficial when trying to do something quickly and get your practice in, this youtube guy does a great job of explaining that (although i'm drawing less on values and more on vibes for this exercise).

(shh sketches for comic brainstorming Ignore)

[allergic-to-four-leaf-clovers]

Lil Funky Character Sheet For Rayan!!

(based off of a character sheet @paranoia-exe made of his sona!!)

—> —> —> —> —> —>

Full Name: Rayan Cruz Hyacinth (name on birth certificate is Cora Cruz Maguire)

Nickname(s): RayRay, Ray, any variation of "feral bitch" (mostly said by The Survivors),

Age: 35 (probably like 38-40 in canon since he's stopped aging physically)

Height: 5'9

Sexuality: Homosexual

Romantic identity: Homoromantic

Gender: Transmasculine (presents fem other than masculine hair)

Sex: Female (at birth)

Pronouns: He/It, prefers he

Eye Colour: Green

Hair colour: Brown

Ethnicity: Irish

Languages Spoken: Irish, British English

Birthplace: Dublin, Ireland

Current Residence: ~no canonical setting in Forsaken Souls so I'm not sure how to answer~

Occupation: Currently looking for a job

Favourite Food(s): Teriyaki Noodles (a favourite of Zayn's, too), Irish stew, He Like Bread™, store bought steak slices (totally not projecting)

Favourite Drink(s): Wo'er™, Guinness, Bailey's, any kind of Prosecco, (he's not an alcoholic I swear), Earl Grey Tea, Gatorade

Favourite Music Artist(s): Mitski, 6arelyhuman, Laufey, Muse, TV Girl, Roar, Cavetown, Rebzyyx, Pierce The Veil, Penelope Scott, TX2

Favourite Songs (from each artist listed above!!):

Mitski — Drunk Walk Home, I Bet On Losing Dogs, Crack Baby.

6arelyhuman — Hands Up! (specifically the Nightcore version), XOXO, GMFU

Laufey: Valentine

Muse: Feeling Good, Supermassive Black Hole, Starlight

TV Girl: Taking What's Not Yours, Blue Hair, Lovers Rock, Not Allowed

Roar: Christmas Kids, I Can't Handle Change.

Cavetown: Juliet, Boys Will Be Bugs, LEMONS

Rebzyyx: all I want is you, I'm so crazy for youuu </3, I deserve this

Pierce The Veil: King For A Day, A Match Into Water

Penelope Scott: Lukewarm, Dead Girls, Feel Better, Cigarette Aheago, Baxter 3rd Is Under Fucking Siege, Montreal, Lotta True Crime (he. he kinda likes penelope scott's music)

TX2: Degrade Me, I Would Hate Me Too, Step Over A Body, Heaven Was Full

Favourite Game(s): Probably just some crappy games on his phone with like a 3 star rating

Hobbies / Interest(s): Bro does not have a life 😭 took up crocheting at one point, photography (alongside Maddie), wine tasting (just an excuse for More Alcohol™ /j), he also kinda likes hiking, roller skating, darts

Other: probably ~mentally ill~ considering. everything. I dunno he was born in october?? and a good part of his music reminds him of Sage </3

—> —> —> —> —> —>

[oflights]

ALL RIGHT THEN top five teas

:))) thank you for this!! i did ask for this one and now ofc i'm going to agonize over it

bengal spice! it's just a standard grocery store celestial seasonings one, nothing fancy, but it's sooo good. i do this one hot with two teaspoons of honey. it's herbal so it's good in the evening when i'm reading or relaxing.

davids tea banana nut bread tea. i lived next to a davids tea when i lived in montreal and i got totally addicted. my old roommate sends me this one every year at christmas and i make it last as long as i can. does it actually taste like banana nut bread? not really. does it taste delicious? yes. i add honey to this one too, and almost always drink it hot.

vanilla chai (bigelow or stash). this is an old faithful! sometimes i'll do an iced chai latte with foamy oat milk with this one, or a hot latte, or just drink it as it is. i also love the tazo chai concentrate but i stopped drinking it as much because the caffeine was A Lot lol.

ahmad tea's peach passionfruit. i always kept this tea in the office before i worked from home, and i'd make a bunch and chill it over ice in the office fridge, and then my work besties and i would drink it on our building's terrace at 3:30 when we wanted a break. i still make it like this at home, but i kind of miss work bestie tea.

irish breakfast, but only when i'm at my local (which is an extremely irish pub) and it's about time to walk home and i feel like i need a pick-me-up. the bartender will make me a cup of irish breakfast and give me a pack of taytos or smith's scampi fries and send me on my way once i've finished.

[butterflyintochains]

Best With Three: Part Four

Gabriella ''Ella'' Lemieux is a 23 year old tennis star from Montreal. A devoted cat mom, lover of the hard courts, and tennis history nerd to her atoms. Best friends with just about everyone, she courts no controversy. Beloved and admired for her elegance on court, as well as her charity work off court. One of the icons of the young Canadian King Cup Team. With her besties, Leylah and Bianca, at her side, she's unstoppable.

That is, however, until a wild Christmas in Vancouver while visiting family out west before going to Australia. When she meets two local hockey stars.

TW: some sexism, social media au, press being stupid

part one / part two / part three

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux

liked by: danielnestor1, _eliaspettersson, _quinnhughes, and 70k others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Kind of lost for words right now, just got done with winning my second ever career title here in the Netherlands. On my second best surface. Thank you to Danny for having faith in me. Bianca, my dear sister, here's to more of those! Elias, Quinn - I love you both so much, you have no idea. One of my childhood dreams is finally achieved - Canadian Number One! 🍁💖🏆

replies:

danielnestor1: So proud of you, kiddo, the new ranking suits you so well.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Thank you for taking a chance on me, Danny! 💕

_eliaspettersson: That final was so stressful from the box, but you are amazing and I hope you always know how much we love you. 💙

Gabriella.Lemieux: I love you too, sweetheart. Now, rest that damn knee. _eliaspettersson: Will do, darling. 👍

_quinnhughes: You deserve this so much, babe. Hate that I'll miss the first few days of Wimbledon. 😢💚

Gabriella.Lemieux: Go and get that Norris, honey!!

felixaliassime: Congrats, angel! Enjoy this, you've earned it!

denis.shapovalov: Love you, sissy! Glad the boys have been with you for this little adventure.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Honestly, DJ, I'd have went nuts without them.

biancaandreescu: Here's to more finals like that one, angel! So happy for you. 🍁💖🍁

leylahannietennis: That's all three of us now!!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Three talented besties!

bboeser: Grand Slam incoming? 👀🔥

j.tmiller9: Who got you the necklaces?

Gabriella.Lemieux: Elias got me the sapphire one, Quinn got me the emerald one. Turns out, there's a nice jewellery store near the tournament complex!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@/WTA_updates:

Oh, you guys, I just saw the Whistler Trio on the airport, and it was so sad. Gabriella and Elias were all clingy with Quinn. Seems like he's off to Vegas while they go to Germany. Not even two days with her new position, and she's having to see one of the boys off. 😥

@/MapleFam: Ugh, could they just move the entire ceremony to Wimbledon so this doesn't happen? @/BelieveInBlue: Ikr? Move the entire thing so Ella and Lias aren't way from Quinn for so long. @/Canada_Family: God, it's been five months, and they're already so married.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whistler Trio GC 💙💚🤍

HuggyBear: Well... that was the most boring and miserable flight of my life. Caldersson: Come back to us soon, babe! AngelElla: Gonna be rough not having you with us, Quinny. HuggyBear: Maybe I should accept the award remotely? Caldersson: Quinn, as someone who won one of those things, don't. Nothing beats the rush of accepting it directly. AngelElla: I agree, I'd have hated to accept my Dubai and Rosmalen trophies from my apartment. HuggyBear: See, logically I know that. HuggyBear: But, emotionally, I'd rather be with you guys. Caldersson: You will be soon. AngelElla: And, we'll be eagerly waiting for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@/WTA:

The win streak is brought to an end in Bad Homburg! Diana Shnaider upsets the new Canadian Number One in an epic three set semi final: 7-5, 2-6, 6-3. No shift in ranking for Lemieux, who will hold position until Wimbledon.

@/MapleFam: So sad to see Ella lose, she was on such a roll this week, even without having one of her boyfriends with her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

canucks:

liked by: _eliaspettersson, Gabriella.Lemieux, jackhughes, lhughes_06, and 500k more.

canucks: Our Captain, Quinn Hughes, has won the James Norris Memorial Trophy for best defenceman in the NHL for the 2023/24 season! We're so proud of you, captain! #alltogetherallin #gocanucksgo.

replies:

_quinnhughes: So honored to win this award! Wish my loves were with me on the night, but my lady has work.

_eliaspettersson: I love you, Wolverine! Proudest boyfriend in the world right now! Gabriella.Lemieux: So proud of you, honey! I love you! _quinnhughes: I love you both too! I'll be back before you know it!

jackhughes: Best big bro ever!

lhughes_06: Sad not to get the Calder, but so happy to be bringing this one home to Michigan.

BelieveInBlue: He's sooo handsome, you guys! OMG! 🥵😍

Gabriella.Lemieux: And taken too... 😉 _eliaspettersson: Twice over 🥰

bboeser: So proud of you, bro!!

_quinnhughes: Thank you, Boes! 😊

tdemko30: That's our guy!

j.tmiller9: Only one who deserved it imho.

conor.garland8: My captain is better than your captain #facts.

dakotajoshua8: Preach, Garly!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@/MapleFam:

Ugh, I know this is probs stupid, but am I the only person who is legit nervous for how Ella is going to be treated at Wimbledon? Idk, like, they're so traditional about stuff, and Ella being poly is as far from traditional as possible. I just hope no one is weird to her.

@/BelieveInBlue: Yeah... I think she'll be okay there, everyone has been so supportive of her so far. I'm scared of the Canuck wags being mean to her if she goes to a hockey game. @/MapleFam: Oh, God. I'm nervous just picturing our Ella with those women. She stayed away from them in january, and stayed home for games in spring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux

liked by: _eliaspettersson, _quinnhughes, leylahannietennis, and 6k others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Good day, Wimbledon! So excited to get going this year! Congrats to Quinn on the Norris, so happy to have you back, babe! One thing that always sticks in my mind about this event is the smells, the ivy on Centre Court's walls, the grass, strawberries.

Also, for those worrying about me, thank you so much. I know that I'm not many people's image of 'normal', so it's nice to know I'm being supported.💖🍁💖

replies:

_quinnhughes: Happy to be back with my two loves.

Gabriella.Lemieux: That was the longest week of the year so far. _eliaspettersson: For real, could the league host the awards here instead?

leylahannietennis: Congrats, Quinn! Good to have you back with Ella and Elias, they were all sad without you.

_eliaspettersson: Leylah! He wasn't meant to know that! leylahannietennis: Sorry, Petey! 😊

danielnestor1: Excited to be back here, even if the three of you are chaos incarnate!

Gabriella.Lemieux: You love us, Danny!

felixaliassime: You gonna be wearing the necklaces all the time now?

Gabriella.Lemieux: Yeah, pretty much. 🥰

MapleFam: So awesome seeing the Whistler Trio all gushing over each other on social media, isn't it?

Canada_Family: Yeah, gonna admit to being skeptical about this whole thing to begin with, but I've never been happier to be wrong.🥰

bboeser: Dak, Garly, Hogs, and I are coming to Wimby too!!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Really?! Can't wait to see you guys again! Don't know if my box will have enough room, what with my parents, coaching team, and boyfriends.

dakotajoshua8: We land on wednesday!

BelieveInBlue: Ella, tell Wimbledon to get ready for ''The Great Canucks Invasion''!

Gabriella.Lemieux: I'm sure they already know!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@/WTA:

That is a very comfortable first round win for Gabriella Lemieux. Defeating former French Open finalist Taylor Townsend 7-6(7/1), 6-1 in just over ninety minutes to seal her place in the second round. A very happy coach, and two very happy boyfriends as well! Zhu Lin awaits!

@/MapleFam: Just caught her presser, she was asked about her new position within the sport: ''Becoming my nation's top player has been a dream of mine since day one. It's something I'm going to wear with pride, and hopefully carry with the dignity it deserves.'' @/BelieveInBlue: I'm still so new to this sport, but I'm so proud of her for this season already! @/Canada-Family: You have no idea! Seeing how scared she was in Australia after the scandal, and now how confident she is! Truly incredible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux

liked by: _eliaspettersson, _quinnhughes, leylahannietennis, and 90k others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Fit and hair check for this fortnight. Such a good match, Taylor! Hope for more like that with you in the future, girl! Go and win the doubs with Katka!! Can't wait for round two already! Also, I don't know if you know this, but I'm dating two incredibly gorgeous men, who wore suits to my match today. 💖🍁💖

replies:

_quinnhughes: And, we're dating each other too! Everyone wins here!

_eliaspettersson: Exactly! We're so smart, eh? Gabriella.Lemieux: We are and you are so right, Elias. 💖

leylahannietennis: Get as many of us into round two as possible challenge?

denis.shapovalov: Stack the jury, sunny! felixaliassime: Let's do it! biancaandreescu: Sounds great to me, sunny! Gabriella.Lemieux: Sounds doable to me, sunny. 🍁

BelieveInBlue: Where did all the nicknames Team Canada have come from?

Gabriella.Lemieux: Okay, so. I'm 'Angel' because of my name, angel Gabriel y'know? Felix is 'Oxford' - I think Rublev gave him that one? Bianca is 'Princess' - because she was the first slam winner. Denis is 'DJ' because of his music. Leylah is 'Sunny' because she just is.🍁💖 Gabriella.Lemieux: And, I call Coco 'Cookie' because we shared cookies after our first training session against each other.

cocogauff: When is the Canucks Invasion happening, Angel?

Gabriella.Lemieux: Wednesday. 😊

danielnestor1: One down, six to go, kiddo, let's get this!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Let's get this, coach! 🎾

WhistlerTrio: Love seeing the throuple all happy together like this, and feeling able to be open about things!

canucks: Keep it going, Ella!! - HS

Gabriella.Lemieux: Will do, Mr Sedin!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@/WTA:

She's on a roll, everyone! After her first round win over Taylor Townsend, Gabriella Lemieux has followed it up with a big win over Lin Zhu 6-4, 6-3 out on Court 4. Lulu Sun awaits the Canadian Number One.

@/EllaLemieux: Having so much fun this week so far! 🙏🍁🎾

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_eliaspettersson

liked by: _quinnhughes, Gabriella.Lemieux, bboeser, and 200k others.

_eliaspettersson: Another amazing win for our girlfriend today! So proud of her for this run thus far, we also got to see the trophies on day one while Quinn was in Vegas. These things are seriously beautiful, the dish one will hopefully be coming home to Van with us soon. 🏆🙏

replies:

_quinnhughes: Well, I'd not be surprised if Ella won this whole thing with what we saw earlier today.

_eliaspettersson: Right? Danny told us she loved grass, and now we know how much.

bboeser: Those trophies are so cool looking! And, I'm so happy to be here to see Ella properly for the first time.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Happy to have you here, Brock! 🥰

dakotajoshua8: Go and get that trophy, Ella! Cannot believe just how good she actually is, tv is such a different experience.

conor.garland8: I know! Her serve is so loud too! 🤯 Gabriella.Lemieux: Mine's tame compared to Coco's!

nilshoglander: Glad to be here at last! That dish would look good in the house as well. 😊

Gabriella.Lemieux: Your lips to God's ear, Hogs! 🥰

j.tmiller9: Two down, five to go, Ella!!

tdemko30: So excited for the rest of the tournament, hate that we can't all be there.

canucks: Venus Rosewater Dish vs Stanley Cup? - DS

_eliaspettersson: All trophies are beautiful, Daniel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@/WTA_updates:

Seems like the Canucks Invasion of Wimbledon is going very well so far! Just saw Dakota Joshua and Conor Garland hanging with Denis Shapovalov and Felix Auger-Aliassime in the park. No sign of the Whistler Trio, likely at the training court or at the rental house.

@/CupOrBust: Love how the two sports are coming together over this! It's so wholesome! @/MapleFam: Me too! It's so sweet!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux

liked by: leylahannietennis, _eliaspettersson, _quinnhughes, danielnestor1, and 50k others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Round four booked at Wimbledon! Huge thank you to Lulu for the amazing match, no breaks of serve for the entire time, wow! 7-6(7-2), 7-6(7-4) is a rough scoreline, and we fought like crazy! Had a wonderful dinner with my boys and coach. Now, we're gonna chill for the rest of the night. 🍁💖🎾

replies:

_eliaspettersson: Lights. Out. Tennis.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Just how it should be at this stage. 🥶

_quinnhughes: Cannot believe how dialled in you looked today, flower!

Gabriella.Lemieux: I felt almost possessed, honey, you have no idea!

leylahannietennis: Can't wait to see your match against Emma! Gonna be 🔥

Gabriella.Lemieux: Yeah! Playing a home talent on Center Court isn't gonna be easy. But, it's a challenge I welcome. 💪

jackhughes: I've never liked tennis before, but now I do, and omg that match was so stressful!

lhughes_06: I know! Our sister-in-law is so good, isn't she?

danielnestor1: Three matches down, four to go. Let's keep this going, kiddo!

liked by Gabriella.Lemieux.

bboeser: Will this be your first time on Center Court, Ella?

Gabriella.Lemieux: Yeah, lowkey nervous for it, playing in the Cathedral of Tennis has been a dream since I was nine. nilshoglander: You'll be fine, Ella! conor.garland8: And, we're here to support you! dakotajoshua8: We're even gonna wear suits and look all fancy!

denis.shapovalov: Gonna be on the edge of my seat for your next one, angel!

felixaliassime: This match is prime time, and I'm so here for it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@/WTA_updates:

Prime time match. Prime time players. Lemieux's coaching box is loaded with Canucks as I type this out. They're in the back row, the front row being her family, team, and boyfriends. The players walk out to massive applause, a certain sapphire and emerald necklaces sparkling on Gabriella. 1/9

@/WTA_updates: Gabriella has won the toss and elected to serve, if she's at all nervous, she's not showing it. Ice in her veins for sure. Will she harness it to a win today? 2/9 @/WTA_updates: After roaring ahead to a 5-1 lead in the opening set, Lemieux holds to love to win the first set 6-2, smiling to herself, she strides back to her seat. Centre Court is humming with energy right now. 3/9 @/WTA_updates: We're all square at 5-5 in the second set, the home support for Raducanu is getting steadily louder as the set goes on. Gabriella seems unsettled, even her boyfriends look put off by it all. Emma breaks to one deuce, and holds to love to take the second set 7-5. 4/9 @/WTA_updates: One set to decide this thing, then! Lemieux holds to love with four aces, bringing her match count to sixteen! She then breaks for a 2-0 lead in the final set. 5/9 @/WTA_updates: Raducanu holds to stave off a potential bagel! 3-1 in the final set, Gabriella looks calmer now, the crowd are decidedly more subdued. 6/9 @/WTA_updates: Big hold from Emma to salvage the score to 5-2 and force Lemieux to serve it out herself! This has been a classic on Centre so far! 7/9 @/WTA_updates: With an ace down the T at 40-30, the new Canadian Number One has booked herself a place in the final eight for the first time at Wimbledon! 8/9 @/WTA_updates: In her on court interview, Lemieux is emotional as she says: ''First match on this court, first slam quarter final, I almost feel as though I've stolen someone else's life sometimes. This run, my relationship, it all feels so good, but I feel like I've stolen another woman's life sometimes, y'know?'' Oh, Ella, you deserve this so much! 9/9

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux

liked by: _quinnhughes, _eliaspettersson, leylahannietennis, bboeser, and 60k others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Quarter finals locked and loaded for the first time ever! You have no idea how good it feels to be able to say that. I had no idea what this run on grass would yield me when we landed in Rosmalen just a few short weeks ago. A title, my nation's number one spot, a semi final, and now a quarter final is beyond my wildest dreams! Thank you for the epic match, Emma! Hope it's not our last. 💖🍁🎾

replies:

leylahannietennis: Keep it going, Angel! Love you so much, babe! 💕

Gabriella.Lemieux: Love you too, Sunny! 💝

_quinnhughes: I'm never aware of crowds when we play, but God was that crowd on Centre pissing me off.

_eliaspettersson: I know, never great to hear our girlfriend being applauded for service faults. bboeser: Yeah, so rude and unnecessary imo.

dakotajoshua8: Ice in your veins, Ella, ice in your veins. 🥶

biancaandreescu: You looked nearly possessed on court today, Ella, I've never seen that from you before.

j.tmiller9: Nat, the girls, Owen, and I are supporting you from home, Ella!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Give them all my love, Millsy!!

danielnestor1: Three left to win, kiddo, I am so proud of you!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Thank you, Danny, can't wait for the quarters already!

canucks: Bring it home, Ella! - SS

Gabriella.Lemieux: Will do, Mr Smyl! 💙

nilshoglander: Best tennis match I've seen this year.

tdemko30: Dawson was glued to the tv while we watched the replay!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Give him a big hug from me, Thatch.

MapleFam: Ella is three matches away from being a slam champion. This time last year, she was barely getting past round one, then the burnout, and now here she is! It's nuts!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From Scandal to Success - An interview with Gabriella Lemieux by Annabel Croft.

It is often said the path to glory never runs smooth. This is especially true for the newly minted Canadian Number One, who is now one of the last eight women left in the singles draw at the 2024 Wimbledon Championships. This half of the year has not always been easy for Gabriella Lemieux. Arriving in Sydney for the United Cup with Team Canada, there was a cloud of rumour, scandal, and speculation over the 23 year old's head. After meeting two famous ice hockey players in Vancouver over winter, there was much noise made about how Lemieux would navigate things. Would she need to choose between two men who she seemed equally fond of?

No, she wouldn't. Instead, the Montreal native chose both, becoming the first openly polyamorous tennis player in history. Her new boyfriends being Vancouver Canucks Alternate Captain, Elias Pettersson - a swedish forward who won the league's rookie of the year award in 2019. And the same team's Captain, Quinn Hughes - the american defenceman who recently won the position's award. In a twist of fate, the boys are also dating each other. I had the honour to sit down at home with Gabriella this morning, while her boys were out shopping. ''Gabriella, quarters of Wimbledon, first grand slam quarter final. How are you right now?'' I asked her.

Gabriella smiled, seeming to need a moment to let it sink in. ''I'm feeling confident, Dubai and Rosmalen showed me what I'm capable of, and this has been just the dream run.'' I also asked her about the boys. ''You're with two equally skilled athletes, how have they driven you further?''

Always honest with people, Gabriella simply said. ''I'd probably not be doing half as well without them. Having them in my box for the Raducanu match saved my life. Even when nobody was supporting me, they were.''

I then asked her about that epic on Centre Court yesterday evening, her first against the 2021 US Open Champion, and her first on the biggest stage. ''How did you handle that match? You looked almost possessed!''

She nodded, and laughed, running her fingers over the twin necklaces her boyfriends gifted her for her rise to her new position. ''That's how I felt, actually! I just didn't hear the crowd until the match was over. I was just do dialled in, nothing really registered except for what was going on between me and Emma.'' When I asked her about her hopes of taking the whole thing home, she said. ''I'm planning for the short-term, one match at a time. I'm not even thinking about the final or anything yet.''

I also asked her about the relationship aspect, whether she'll be flying any flags for those like her in sports. ''I hope anyone similar to me in any sport can feel comfortable to not hide it anymore, yeah. I'm not going to be flying any flags, I just hope poly people can look to me, and say 'well, she's feeling supported and doing well, and so can I.' Because, for me at least, I've never felt better in life.''

I also asked her about the comment she made about feeling as though she has stolen someone else's life. To which she said. ''There's always this little evil voice in me that says this will all come crashing down around me someday, I'm just trying to do all I can to silence it.'' Lemieux is due to face Donna Vekic in the final eight, on Court 1, and no doubt her boys will be right there for all of it. I am so impressed with this young lady, soon to debut in the top fifteen, and surely number one will come at some point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@/WTA:

After booking a maiden grand slam quarter final, the Canadian Number One has also booked her first grand slam semi final! With another epic three setter, Gabriella Lemieux takes down Donna Vekic 7-5, 4-6, 6-1 to advance to the final four for the first time!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux

liked by: _quinnhughes, _eliaspettersson, biancaandreescu, and 70k others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Well... no idea how to say this, but I am so happy right now! That was probably the hardest match of my life, and all the credit to Donna on the comeback from her struggles. I never once dared to imagine my first semi final at a slam would be here of all places. And, I'm just so happy to finally be here. I'm also very tired, so nap time for me! 🍁🍁🍁

replies:

_eliaspettersson: On our way up, alskling! 💙

_quinnhughes: Get cozy, we're coming!! 💚 Gabriella.Lemieux: Thanks, my loves! 🤍

biancaandreescu: Grass is yours, Angel!

denis.shapovalov: Last one standing, keep it going, sissy!💪🏆

felixaliassime: So incredibly proud of you today, angel! 💖

leylahannietennis: Could not tear myself away from my laptop during your match, angel... wow!

danielnestor1: I am a very proud coach and friend right now, kiddo. 💝

taylor_fritz: The New World Kids are taking over! Watch out for us!

cocogauff: Ikr? We're taking over! 🍁🦅 sofia.kenin: So true, Coco, we're coming for this sport! (also, congrats, Ella!)

bboeser: Why isn't Ella responding to her comments?

danielnestor1: Good luck waking her from a nap, Brock. Naps are sacred to her. Before and after matches. 😴

canucks: Two wins left, keep it going, Ella! #IceQueenElla - PA

j.tmiller9: So proud of you for this tournament, Ella!

nilshoglander: I don't think I moved for the whole time, such an epic match.

conor.garland8: That forehand to win the match was pure 🔥

dakotajoshua8: Never once imagined I'd love tennis so much, but I'm fully invested now!

tdemko30: I know! I watched one of Ella's matches, now I'm hooked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@/WTA_updates:

Here we go, everyone! Paolini/Lemieux part two. Gabriella won their last meeting in Dubai in three sets, but Jasmine has spent slightly less time on court, and has the experience differential. So, it's all to play for in the first women's semi final. Paolini has elected to serve first. Here we go! 1/9

@/WTA_updates: Lemieux instantly breaks to two deuces to claim the first game, and holds to expand her lead to 2-0! Daniel is looking very pleased with his girl, Elias and Quinn are looking very handsome too, all suited up for the day! 2/9 @/WTA_updates: Lemieux takes the opening set 6-2! Centre Court is buzzing for her already, one set away from her first slam final! But, we're not done yet, Paolini looks locked and loaded. 3/9 @/WTA_updates: We're all square at 4-4 in the second set, the crowd has very much switched sides with Paolini's tenacity endearing her to the people. Paolini breaks to thirty, and will serve to level us up. 4/9 @/WTA_updates: Paolini holds to love to take the second set! We're all square on Centre Court! Lemieux looks tired, and worried for the first time in days. 5/9 @/WTA_updates: We're going to a champion's tiebreak! No breaks of serve in the deciding set! Lemieux will open the tiebreak on serve. She wins her first point. 6/9 @/WTA_updates: Paolini is going lights out, she leads the tiebreak after a lengthy rally 7-5. 7/9 @/WTA_updates: Lemieux holds firm, summoning all of her remaining energy, we're all square 8-8 in the tiebreak. First to ten takes it. 8/9 @/WTA_updates: Paolini is a Wimbledon finalist! With a forehand passing shot the Italian number one eliminates the Canadian number one. A warm embrace at the net, and a wave of applause for Gabriella as she goes off court. 9/9

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux

liked by: _eliaspettersson, _quinnhughes, danielnestor1, leylahannietennis, and 100k others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Very proud of the result this past two weeks at Wimbledon. Never imagined I'd make the semi finals this year, or even the final eight! I'd have loved to make the final, or even win, but today was simply not my day. Congrats and love to Jasmine on making two slam finals in a row! I'll probably miss the final myself, because, as soon as I'm back in Canada, it's moving out day! 🍁💖

replies:

danielnestor1: So proud of the run you had, kiddo. 💝

Gabriella.Lemieux: Thanks, Danny! It's all because of you!

_eliaspettersson: I love you, Ella, and we are so proud of this run, you deserved that title. Next year you'll get it, trust me. 💙

_quinnhughes: We love you, flower! Finally into the top fifteen! 💚 Gabriella.Lemieux: I love you guys so much, thank you for being with me through this run, I'd have went insane without you two. 🤍

leylahannietennis: Good luck on moving to Vancouver, angel!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Love you, sunny, so excited to move already! My apartment is halfway packed up.

denis.shapovalov: Can't believe you're moving west already, time is so strange sometimes.

Gabriella.Lemieux: I know, DJ! Feels like we just got together a few weeks ago, and now I'm moving in with them!

felixaliassime: Gonna miss you in Montreal, angel, but good luck in Vancouver!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Gonna miss you too, Oxford! 🥺

biancaandreescu: See you in Paris, angel! Good luck on the move!

Gabriella.Lemieux: See you in Paris, princess! Can't wait to represent the country again!

canucks: Can't wait to have you in our city, Ella! - JR

Gabriella.Lemieux: Can't wait to move in, Mr Rutherford!

cocogauff: 🙏💖🥰

taylor_fritz: We're gonna be Pacific coast buddies now!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Can't wait! 🥰

bboeser: Moving west week already? Wow!

sofia.kenin: Keep us updated on moving progress, Ella! We don't wanna miss a thing!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Will do, Sonya! 💖

bigfoe1998: Absolutely insane run, hope to see you with a slam soon, angel!

j.tmiller9: Get the boys to text me if you need anything, Ella. Nat and I are in Van for a few weeks with the kids.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@/WTA_updates:

Gabriella is moving already? She said on insta that as soon as she's home in Montreal, she'll be moving west to Vancouver? I know she's said she intends to move, but, wow!

@/EllaLemieux: Yeah, I'm 60% packed up already, but, i'll be moving west over the break between Wimbledon and the Olympics.Best to do it now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And, she's done at last! Grass season is done and dusted for Gabriella. A win in Rosmalen, a semi final in Bad Homburg, a semi final at Wimbledon, and her nation's number one ranking to show for it! And, into the top fifteen!

Next part will be Ella moving west from Montreal to Vancouver. Very excited for that!

Enjoy!

[vinnisjewelry]

Luxury Designer Jewelry Gift Ideas: Elevate Your Gifting Experience in Canada

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Why Choose Luxury Designer Jewelry?

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Occasions Worthy of Luxury Designer Jewelry

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Conclusion

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[lonita]

Things I Miss

The redness of my hair (It's going all blonde.)

Playing in snow drifts up to my hips

The walk to the community pool

Summer vacation

My friend Tina

Saturday morning cartoons

The back grounds of my first grade school

Climbing cherry trees

What it felt like, as a young person, to discover things for the first time

The excitement that led up to Christmas

The way they used to show old movies on TV all night instead of paid programming

Sneaking out to the livingroom to watch those movies

The simple pleasures in train travel as a child

How huge the Montreal train station seemed to me when I was young

Jon Pertwee and Tom Baker as Doctor Who

That moment of triumphant glory when you caught up with the ice cream man

The whole process of buying school supplies

The party dresses I had when I was little

Goody bags from birthday parties

Queenston Mall (They've torn it down to make room for big box stores.)

The huge tree in the corner of the parking lot of that mall, which, to me, bore a striking resemblance to the tree on Gilligan's Island

Chocolate malts, that you could get from the Little Oly's in that mall

The large tree branches that shielded my bathroom and bedroom windows

Stealing rhubarb out of my cousins' grandfather's garden

Picking coal up off the train tracks across the street from my aunt's house in Cape Breton

Sitting at beachside cafes by the Mediterranean at night

Wandering around the city near dawn when I was a teenager

The rooftop benches and fountains at the art gallery. (Thanks for the sculpture garden, but couldn't you have put it off to the side a bit more, and left some fountains in?)

My old public high school. The Catholic one, not so much

The little cardboard trains they used to hand out to children on long train journeys on CN and VIA

The hilarity of the way my grandfather used to swear in his sleep

The chubby Polish sausages my grandmother used to get for me when I was little

The older, simpler, days of the web, when it seemed a little more amusing; or perhaps that's just the eyes of the newly curious talking

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"FREED MAN GIVEN $3 AFTER FIVE YEARS' WORK," Toronto Globe. December 27, 1913. Page 22. ---- Friendless He Tramped Streets of Montreal ---- HAD NOT HAD SQUARE MEAL ---- Restaurants Whetted Appetite and He Spent Nearly All His Cash Before Finding His Lawyer-Wants to Earn Fare Home to Italy ---- (Canadian Press Despatch.) Montreal, Dec. 26. - Sixty cents a year, or $3 for five years' work as a blacksmith - such is the remuneration accorded Gerolimo Fatsari, the innocent man just liberated from St. Vincent de Paul penitentiary, if the sum of money placed in his hands by the penitentiary authorities on his departure is to be regarded in any way as a return for his work in one of the departments of the institution.

With a formal "get out, Fatsari" from his quondam custodians, and with a guard detailed to escort him to the train, the man wended his way citywards late on Christmas Eve, only to find himself, once arrived here, a friendless and well-nigh penniless victim of society's laws. Prior to his departure he had been given the address of his attorney, Leopold Houle, and had been instructed to go and see the latter immediately he reached the city. But in the maze of the city's streets he could not locate Mr. Houle's house, and he spent the greater part of the night tramping through the streets viewing the unaccustomed scenes of the multitudes hurrying to the various churches for midnight Mass.

By the morning he had cut into his small store of currency to an alarming extent, for, as he explained yesterday, he had not had a square meal for five years, and the sight of the various restaurants in the city had but whetted his desire to eat. It was shortly after eight o'clock yesterday morning when he finally succeeded in locating Mr. Houle, and it was with tears in his eyes that he expressed gratitude for what had been done for him by his quondam accusers, the police.

Fatsari has no friends in the city, and he is at a loss to know how things will go with him. He has a wife and a couple of children in Rome, and he stated yesterday that he would try to get some work in order to save up enough money to pay his passage across.

[ajoytobeheld]

End of Year Travels: Part One…ooooooh

December 14th, 2007

Hello and other festive greetings, I trust this blog finds everyone eating mince pies or at least contemplating the eating of mince pies. We managed to witness the xmas build up in Canada, North America and Japan so my brain is now riddled with carols and Cliff Richard songs.

The last two and a half weeks was a lovely finale to a extremely surreal year, we witnessed sunshine, frost bite inducing snow [has anyone else heard that apparently when you get frostbite your fingers feel like warmed marshmallows, ie, crispy on the outside and gooey on the inside??? Ellen informed me of this a couple of days into our trip and I think that lovely image is definitely worth sharing with as many people as possible] and Gareth wearing little blue pants and a knitted mask at dinner. ( He had clothes on under the pants, which in a way makes him a bit like a freaky superman) (Pictures to follow)

The plane ride to LA was rather touching for us all as we were able to watch the masterpiece that is Ratatouille, which made some of our more sensitive members nearly cry, perhaps because of the parallels between the morals in the story and our own lives. The take home message is that “Anyone can cook,” and I like to apply this to myself as “anyone can make music.” Apart from that awful brother/sister duo on The X Factor. They really should be stopped. 

We started out our adventure in LA which was a sprawling hubbub of confusing juxtaposition. There was poverty combined with the promotion of celebrity glamour (e.g people begging outside the kodak theatre where the Oscars take place) and a lot of Scientology related buildings. It’s WEIRD how seriously they all take it - there was the L Ron Hubbard Celebrity Community Centre (which we were assured did a lovely brunch), the L Ron Hubbard Christmas display, the L Ron Hubbard life exhibition and the various L Ron Hubbard workers trying to convince you to do “personality tests.” It apparently is the religion of now and in La would go perfectly with your Hermes bag and small obligatory dog. But LA did contain Ameoba records, which has everything. No, honestly, everything.

We also made a video out there, which sounds far more glamourous than it actually was because it was filmed in a recording studio so it could have been anywhere. But it was nice to sit around in the sunshine. I can’t say too much about the video before it is aired to the five people who will watch it, but it does involve small furry things which meow. I may have said too much. There is also a starring role from our lovely sound technician/tour manager Todge, which is maybe not Oscar worthy but should be given a nod from the Baftas. [Actually it’s up on youtube now so CHECK IT. And don’t worry, although it’s hard to believe given the skill of our acting, we are all alive and well. Although I have pulled a tendon in my knee. But that has nothing to do with the video.

There was also an afternoon spent in Melrose in the hopes of celebrity spotting (unsuccessful) which saw us discovering some ‘interesting’ Necromance shops featuring human bones, posters of how to perform surgery, books with titles like “the most fashionable clothes for mourning”, and my personal favourite– black toilet paper.] We did some shows also in LA, San Fran, New York, Boston, Ottowa, Toronoto and Montreal. San Francisco seemed to be where the crazies liked to hang out and generally talk to themselves, while we were having cocktails I witnessed a man continuously lifting a plastic bag up and down for an hour at what we thought was a bus stop. It turned out to a lamp post. He wasn’t waiting for a bus. He was just slightly eccentric.

New York was particularly fun as we got to play with our friends Johnny Foreigner again who were there recording their debut album, it also meant we got to go to Whole foods again which is perhaps the most magical food store in New York. [or the world] There was also a good two hours where is seemed Bright Eyes might come to our show, which where perhaps the most nervous of my life, I turned down cake because I was so nervous. He couldn’t make it, my dreams were dashed. [and you missed out on cake]

Boston was where we first witnessed lots of snow leading to cold feet and constant giddy excitement from Neil, who really likes snow. [aaaaaaand they gave us freshly baked WARM cookies when we arrived at the hotel. Pretty sweet.] In Ottowa we got apples in the hotel and some people received free champagne on their arrival. It was also where we got our bags throughly searched at the airport, with Gareth getting his toothbrush and ipod (!) swabbed for drugs. How cliched do they really think we are, we are strickly a // injected into the eyeball sort of band.

It was also where seven shots of a mysterious substance turned up on the right hand side of the stage [the crowd did try to help us solve the mystery by calling out that the drinks were called ‘Tracksuits’ …which didn’t really help]. We all accepted it politely and drank some (apart from Neil because he just isn’t cool) and luckily it wasn’t Rohypnol. It was alcoholic Irun Bru.

Toronto was where we were reunited with one of our favourite places, and caught up with some lovely people from Arts and Crafts including our favorite driver Aaron, who we convinced to come to Montreal with us the next day and miss work. His constant farting in the car made this journey rather difficult. [The drive was so loooooooooooong– why can’t they just build cities closer together??? It’s just open space in between…it SO wouldn’t make a difference. But luckily we were entertained on the way by our new driver Sam and his stories of how as a wee lad he excitedly volunteered to do a presentation on Toxic Shock Syndrome thinking it sounded really cool…until he realised it was to do with tampons. Gutted.]

We had heard so much about Montreal and were all rather excited about getting to see this lovely European style town where the fact they spoke French and they weren’t IN FRANCE was a huge novelty. I attribute that statement to myself, novelty for me is of course normal life for the Montrealians.

The thing about being in a band and that is places you want to see…you wont, you will see the street you are on between sound check and performance, which means you will see the restaurant/ Tim Hortons you eat in.

We supported Broken Social Scene, and the venue was rather beautiful but the fact wehad to get up at half five in the morning really really sucked… …to be continued…

As this blog has turned super long we thought we’d give you lovely readers a break. That is if anyone persevered to get to this bit. Also it gives us something to do when we inevitably get bored next week. So stay tuned – Part 2 to come. Lots of love, Ellen and Aleks x

[vaguekiwi]

Jack of clovers? Imma sucker for horror

♣️ Jack of Clovers/Clubs: “Horror" (more "supernatural" than horror, I think)

Send me a prompt!

Greenever was a peculiar little town.

Ben had chuckled at it when Peter first told them about his assignment.

“Green-ever? Backwards name sounds like a backwards town.”

“It’ll just be a few months,” Peter replied, “I’ll be back by Christmas. I can put up with a little town upstate for that long.”

May teased, “You know their Burger King won’t be open at 2 AM for a midnight snack.”

Peter had rolled his eyes and tried to insist he wasn’t a child anymore, that he had broken those college habits.

But now here he was at 1:58 in the morning staring at a Closed Taco Bell sign — Greenever had a Taco Bell, a McDonald’s, and a Subway, no Burger King — and he missed New York City with a pang.

It was eerily quiet in Greenever. No traffic at all hours, no lights on this late, no place open and no late night crimes to make your skin crawl. Peter was clueless as to why he’d even been assigned out here. There was nothing to report on and nothing to enforce except breaking up a bar fight or busting teenagers for shoplifting candy bars from the gas station.

The gas station. The one, single gas station in the whole town.

Greenever had a population of 982; one gas station; one overpriced general store — most folks made the 20 minute drive to Wal-Mart two towns over — three fast food places; one locally owned restaurant; two churches; and a K-8 school.

High schoolers bussed to another town.

There was a building and overgrown football field where there used to be a Greenever High School. “In the town’s heyday,” the other cops on the force said, “Go Bulldogs”. But the high school was abandoned now, an eerie sprawling one-story building just past the train tracks.

Peter trudged back to his patrol car and climbed into the driver’s seat. He sighed and closed his eyes.

“Please tell me where we need to go to get a goddamn burger.” 

In the passenger seat, Reilly raised his eyebrows and didn’t remove his feet from the dash.

“You wanna drive all the way to Montreal?” He drawled. “Though that might be shirking our post.”

Peter groaned and mumbled, “You gotta be pissing with me.” He buckled his seatbelt and started the engine, “Where do we go now?”

Reilly grunted, “Let’s loop around the cemetery, sometimes the teenagers get frisky up there. ‘Specially this time of year.”

Peter pulled the car onto the street and started to drive. It would take them all of four minutes — carry them to 2:05 AM and still hours from the end of their shift. But it was better than just sitting there on Main Street.

Maybe.

In Peter’s periphery, Reilly settled lower in his seat and looked out the window. His shirt was starched and stiffed, too clean and pale blue like in cartoons. The patches and badge were all bright and unscuffed. Peter had reluctantly changed into the Greenever uniform, but since he was technically just on loan he coerced his way into sewing on his own City of New York Police Department patch.

It had been a point of great contention with his Captain in Queens and the Sheriff upstate, but Peter was one of very few officers willing to drop everything and move out to the middle of nowhere to fill in some staffing shortages. So they’d bent before he did.

The autumn Adirondacks were supposed to be beautiful, and maybe it was just Peter’s mood, but to him Greenever’s fall leaves were off. Garish oranges, shit-coloured browns, and reds that reminded him unnervingly of blood-stained alleys back home.

The leaves trembled on the edge of their branches, flinching away from the headlights. Peter’s tongue clicked in distaste as he took a turn, but the car’s weight was off. Most of the city’s patrol cars were Chevy or Dodge and he hadn’t minded them so much. But Greenever was mostly Fords, a company Peter was already partial against due to a terrible series of breakdowns and repairs when he was in high school that prompted Ben to get a third job and May to suffer insomnia.

He was convinced the Ford didn’t drive as well as the squad cars in the city. Maybe it wasn’t true, but until his paperwork got un-mixed-up and he received the bonus he was supposed to have gotten for this gig, Peter was resigned to be as bitter about things as he could be.

“So did you like… grow up in the city?”

“In Queens,” Peter grunted, not looking at Reilly. He didn’t return the question: he already knew that Reilly had been born and raised here — literally born at home because the hospital had been too far twenty-three years ago — and almost had enough money to buy his parent’s house at a discount, and was planning to propose to his girlfriend on Christmas Eve on the high school bleachers where they’d had their first kiss at 13.

He never shut up about it.

Peter didn’t dislike Benjamin Reilly. Reilly just unnerved him. They were the same height. They had the same brown eyes flecked with gold, the same tall cheekbones and flat eyebrows and thick curls cut too short and swept off to the right. They were even born on the same day which meant they started and graduated from their respective police academies the same day (fortunately, their high school graduation weekends had been two Saturdays off from one another.)

Reilly was just a bleak look at what Peter’s life might have been like in another town. And Peter didn’t like it because it sounded boring.

It had nothing to do with Reilly’s parents being alive or Reilly being in a committed relationship with someone who loved him or Reilly having worked ‘for spending money’ all through high school instead of making ends meet.

The cemetery was as ruthlessly boring and unexciting as every other part of Greenever. Their headlights illuminated several neat rows of tombstones. Peter yawned, put the car in park, and slouched in the driver’s seat.

“See those?” Reilly pointed at the woods across the cemetery. 

“The trees?” Peter asked.

“Nuh-uh,” Reilly sat up, as if getting six inches closer would make it clear what he was pointing at outside. “Well, I mean, yes, but not all the trees. See those dead ones?”

Peter squinted. The headlights shone on one spindly dead tree on the horizon. Now that he was focused on it, Peter realised there was a row of them. Each devoid of leaves, bark ghostly white, empty branches jabbing into the sky and cutting unnaturally across what would otherwise be a normal looking treeline.

“Are they sick?” Peter asked, dredging up memories of an undergrad class with pictures of blighted trees.

“Not anymore. They’ve been dead for — I dunno… twenty years, at least.”

Peter sniffed, “What about ‘em, then?”

“They were pine trees,” Reilly said.

Peter grunted to show he understood: pine trees that were not-so-evergreen. So was this copse tied to the little town’s peculiar name?

Peter stifled a yawn by biting down on his knuckles and, when Reilly hadn’t said anything else, he ventured,

“There’s a story to them, yeah? Ten white pine trees, some ten-little-soldier-boys kinda tale to it?”

“You mean that little drummer boy song?”

So Reilly wasn’t familiar with the works of Agatha Christie. Unsurprising, but still disappointing.

Then again, the only reason Peter had ever picked up one of the woman’s books was because Michelle had brought it along on a field trip.

Without correction or clarification, Reilly pivoted the conversation, “Story goes that the trees’ll get their needles back once the spirit’s been appeased.”

“The spirit of the trees?”

Sounded like an edgy take on The Lorax, which Peter could confidently say was something the world didn’t need.

“Spirit of the town.” Reilly shrugged, “Or…” then he waved a hand vaguely toward the window, “Or the cemetery or the road or something.”

Peter reflected that — if he were one to believe in spirits — then he’d probably be a stickler about getting the titles and designations right.

But he didn’t believe in ghosts. The only creatures hiding in the dark were the very-human predators of New York City. Evil spirits existed, but they weren’t floating around spooking folks in abandoned homes. No. Peter had seen enough in the city. The real evil was in the house next door and the unassuming smiles of passerby on the street.

“They say on quiet nights, if you get up next to the trees, you can hear the spirit rattling their branches. Wailing in the wind.”

“Who’s they?”

Reilly furrowed his brow, most likely not wanting to admit that the suburban legend stemmed from high school keggers and voyeuristic stoners.

Oh, there was probably wailing in the cemetery at night. That much Peter was sure of. But there was a difference between a tortured ghost and a frisky adolescent.

Reilly had closed his eyes. Peter dialed his radio volume up by two and then down by two and then up again. Static heightened and subsided with the movement. He shifted to roll another yawn out of his body and tried not to dwell on cheese quesadillas and chalupa supremes.

Greenever.

Peter’s head lolled to look out the driver’s side window. He blinked past a gray haze creeping across the ground. It would suck if it was foggy and damp out tomorrow: after an overnight, Peter usually liked to spend time in the sun. Shrug off the haze of the wee hours and soak up some vitamin D.

He squinted at the tombstones lined up too-neatly in the cemetery. He pictured small-town graveyards as sprawling, unwieldy things; overgrown with weeds and mismatched headstones and siphoning off in too many directions as a village realised it was a town and the flow of time brought bureaucracy and zoning laws and a stoic refusal to desecrate the resting place of the deceased.

Not Greenever.

Neat rows of tombstones in a carefully manicured cemetery overlooked by ghostly white pines shivering in the fog.

The wind picked up outside. The pines shuddered and then leaned.

One seemed to drift, tangled in the web of fog. Peter squinted as the trunk twisted in and out of sight, one moment solid and the next blurring with silver haze.

He lifted his flashlight and clicked twice, trying to orient himself and the car relative to the trees.

The beam of light made Reilly lift his head. He slurred something, voice and limbs weighed down by the late hour. Some sort of baseline inquiry about what Peter had noticed.

“Nothin,” Peter drawled, letting the city tumble through his accent. Every once in a while it made him feel closer to home, reminded him of Uncle Ben. Gave the impression he was more grown-up, finally as old as he wanted to be.

The trees lulled in the wind. The car door opened with a crackling sound that made Reilly jump in his seat.

“Be right back,” Peter grunted, turning his flashlight on as he climbed out of the car. He shut the door behind him and made eye contact with Reilly through the window.

“Gonna take a quick round,” Peter said and swung toward the cemetery. Reilly lifted his eyebrows and waved a lazy, half-salute as Peter started to trudge along the grass.

He kept his flashlight on, beam pouring from his hip. It sliced through the grass and glanced off the white pines. Silver lines worn in the tree trunks reflected against clinging pearls of dew.

All Peter could hear was the soft pad of his feet in the drenched grass. He stopped walking as the trees came into view. He let his ears open to the whistle of the wind and, distantly, the vibration of the car engine he’d kept running.

“Ben! Ben!”

“Ben!”

Voices. Distant. Shouting. Squeals that fell in the eerie space between laughter and torture — like an infant who might be gasping with mirth or sobbing from frustration. The hairs on Peter’s neck stood on end, and he took two more lurching steps forward.

He held the flashlight up, slick against his palm. From the fog? Or… was he sweating?

Another bleat of joy or agony. Peter finally mustered his voice.

“Who’s out there?” 

He kept a deep rumble in his throat, unsure whether the children would surrender themselves or try to run when caught in the act.

Peter rolled his flashlight first one way, then another. He caught a glimpse of one of them, a silhouette ducking behind one of the trees.

“Kids, that’s enough!” Peter called, trudging forward.

Damn this would be a lot more satisfying with some Taco Bell in his stomach.

“Hey, come on out. I’ll take you home.” He swallowed. His throat was drier than he wanted it to be, he flashed his light across the trees again.

“You’re not in trouble, just let my partner an’ me take you home!”

Thick silence wended in the air.

Gooseflesh prickled along Peter’s arms and wisps of fog curled across both eyes, obscuring his vision. Peter blinked and took another step, lifting his flashlight again only to bump into one of the pine trees.

He stumbled back as quickly as he hit it, certain the tree hadn’t been so close to begin with. He craned his neck up, wondering if it had been that tall, too. 

His knee was cold where he’d struck the tree, like a piece of ice had threaded its way inside to replace his veins. Peter’s hand trembled as he lifted the flashlight again, but he startled when he struck another tree behind him.

Laughter pealed next to his ear and Peter cried out, lurching to the right and away from the copse. 

He was away from the cemetery proper now, yet he tripped and spilled over two graves immediately beside him. Peter gasped and scrambled to his feet, blood running cold when he looked at the headstones below him.

Richard and Mary Reilly

Peter flexed his neck and eased the cold rush out of his veins. They were probably Reilly’s grandparents, but it was unsettling to see the same names as his own parents printed in stone.

Remembering the children he’d heard, Peter lifted his flashlight in the direction of the trees again. It was odd they’d seemed to surround him, because they were arranged in a row.

Peter took a step forward, one foot sinking into the dewy marsh of the ground.

“Boo!”

Peter screamed and toppled backward, flashlight flying out of his grip as he reached for the gun at his side.

He didn’t get a chance to draw it before he made sense of Reilly’s breathless laughter above him.

“Oh you should’ve seen the look on your face, Parker!”

Peter shook his head as he dusted himself off, slowly climbing to his feet.

“Not that funny, man.” He straightened up slowly, taking care to pluck pieces of grass and mud from his uniform. “Come on, let’s just get back to the car.”

Peter turned away. He took a few steps back toward the cemetery, where their headlights washed everything in ivory.

When he didn’t hear anything behind him, Peter turned again, clicking his flashlight twice.

“Reilly?”

Nothing answered. Fed up with pranks, Peter growled, “Seriously, I’m done with this man. Not. Fucking. Funny. Now come back to the car.”

Peter strode away from the cemetery again, wrinkling his nose when Reilly didn’t follow. He slammed the car door when he dumped himself into the driver’s seat and glowered at the trees on the horizon.

Reilly still didn’t return to the car.

Peter couldn't see Reilly anywhere.

“God I am so done with this town and his bullshit.” Peter snatched up his radio and clicked through to Reilly. “Come back to the car, you idiot. Let’s get out of here. I’m done playing.”

Static crackled on the other end and then the headlights winked out. Peter sat up straighter, cursing under his breath as he clicked through again, “I’m serious man, the car battery just died. Stop messing around.”

Finally a voice came back through, “Officer Parker? You trying to reach someone here?”

Peter cursed before lifting the radio again, “Sorry, Captain. I meant to radio through to Reilly. Setting must be messed up.”

“Reilly?”

“Ben.” Peter said, “Benjamin Reilly. He’s fucking around with me playing pranks, now our battery’s dead, I’m just trying to get him to come back.”

After a measured silence, the Captain’s voice filtered back through, hazy and distant:

“Officer Parker, I think you better return to the station.”

“Sir?”

“Benjamin Reilly died years ago, son. By those white pine trees near the cemetery.”

[horsesandhockeyplayers]

A Not So Southern Christmas, Part 1

This is obviously a rewrite of my old fic. I have been feeling romantic and Christmasy, so I figured it was time to bring back my favorite holiday couple. I found the header from @whatishockey!!

Synopsis: When Adelaide Thibodeaux finds her husband to be diddling the wedding planner in the Church before their nuptials, she walks out and is determined to take her dream honeymoon by herself. Until she gets a seat upgrade to first class and ends up next to Hurricanes Defenceman, Joel Edmundson. Holiday shenanigans ensue.

Author's Notes: This was written in early 2019 before Eddy went to Montreal as a free agent. I will be tagging both teams.

Part 1

Looking back on my relationship, there were a lot of red flags I ignored. Or maybe I was just naïve. Either way, it was five days before Christmas and I was starting my solo honeymoon in the tiniest airport known to man in Birmingham, Alabama. My cousin, the “travel agent”, had “given” me a deal on my honeymoon as her wedding gift, but I was beginning to suspect she didn’t own a damn globe because I was flying to North Carolina then to Winnipeg, and then onto the winter wonderland of Toronto, Canada.

The plane looked like it would lose a fight with a sparrow, but 30 people were going to board the thing. As someone that had never been on a plane, I was beginning to regret my gumption of marching out of the church and taking the limousine directly to the airport.

If you asked me, impulsivity was not a common trait among my people. I was Southern by blood, Southern by raisin’, Southern by livin’ and I wasn’t prone to rush anything and I enjoyed tradition as Southerners do. I picked at a hangnail with my teeth and resisted the urge to ruin the most expensive manicure I had ever had in my life.

A tinny version of Jingle Bells played in the terminal and I was tempted to turn tail and run home. My momma went hog wild for the holidays and our house usually looked like something right out of a Thomas Kinkaid painting. White fluff and tiny villages covered every surface, anything that could be wrapped in lights and garland was adorned and Daddy made sure you could see our house from space. It didn’t matter if it was 30 degrees or 80 on Christmas day (being Alabama, both were possible) we were having a baked ham with all the fixin’s.

There seemed to be two types of women in the South: Southern Belles with white gloves, pearls, and eyelashes that could bat for anyone, or TomBoys dressed in camo and boots. Any woman that fell into the inbetween was pigeonholed into one or the other. Despite the fact that I was 5’10” and closer to 200lbs than 150lbs, my momma always tried to turn me into a belle. Gymnastics, ballet, cloggin’, modern dance, pageants, cotillion of all things, were on my resume for a proper Southern Belle.

If I had let my mother dress me I would have been in a Chanel suit, tottering close to six foot in matching pumps, and a string of pearls around my neck. Dixiecrats were nothing if not predictable in their fashion sense. My own personal style was more “post menopausal writer” in leggin’s, drapey sweaters, and sensible flats (if I had to wear shoes at all).

Considering all I had as I sped away from the church was the suitcase I had packed for the honeymoon, I was looking festive in darkwash jeans, a sensible red blazer I had found in a consignment store over a green teeshirt from the Wal-Mart, and pair of comfortable silver flats that I had found at Payless Shoes for $12. My Christmas light earrings actually lit up with the push of a small button and I looked like Santa Claus’ long lost granddaughter. You know… if she had run away from her wedding and slept in an airport.

I had my hair up in a messy bun after leaving a small mountain of bobby pins in the back of the limousine, but the bangs that were last year’s bad decision didn’t quite make it and they fell around my face in unkempt waves.

My knees were currently jammed into the seat in front of me and I was pressed against the window trying to make myself as small as possible. My fear of the window falling out and being sucked out of the plane was now secondary to making sure I did not touch the sweaty, leering, overweight man who had jammed himself in the seat next to me and might have actually drooled when he blatantly stared at my breasts.

I was saved by the captain’s voice coming over the loudspeaker, “Good morning y’all, there’s a big ol’ storm comin’ down that’s gonna be coverin’ the better part of the Eastern half of the country, but we should be getting you into Charlotte on time to catch your connecting flights before she hits.”

My family was poor, but we weren’t rich either. My daddy owned the family hardware store in a small town outside of Tuscaloosa and my Momma was a professional homemaker that would have made Paula Deen and Martha Stewart weep with envy. We had enough to go on day trips, to pay for my sister and I to do all of our extracurriculars, but I had never been on a plane in my entire life and I was about to spend the next 57 minutes with my knees jammed to my chest while being squashed by the fattest, reddest, sweatiest man on the planet and I would bet my life savings he was some sort of shoe salesman, or a judge, or a small town sheriff or something.

--------------------

When we landed in Charlotte, I sent a little prayer to the Universe for allowing me to live and for the one millionth time since climbing into that big car I thought about just going home. But that was what sensible me would have done and I was always sensible.

As we taxied to the terminal, I turned on my phone and the family group text started blowing up my phone.

Little Sister: Addie are you there yet? Did you live? Did the plane crash? I didn’t see anythin on Twitter.

Momma: Adelaide, I don’t understand dear, why are you leaving for Christmas? It was different When you and Daniel were going on your honeymoon and starting your own traditions. This is insane. Text us when you land. Adele said she didn’t see anythin’ on the Twitter App. I know this weddin’ didn’t go quite the way you were hopin’ but just come home.

Daddy: Girl, call us when you land and Canes won!

My phone was to my ear as the plane came to a stop and all 40 something passengers tried to stand at the same time with the exception of Chubby McPervert who didn’t move a muscle and fell asleep with his massive jowl to his chest.

“Hi Daddy, I landed. Yes, I’m going to catch my next flight. No, this one wasn’t bad.” It had in fact been horrible, but I wasn’t about to tell him about Chubby McPervert and his leering eyes. “I love y’all too. I’ll call y’all when I make it to Toronto, it will be really late. No it won’t cost a fortune, remember Adele and I taught you how to facetime using the WiFi. Yes, Daddy, we have to use that newfangled thingamabobber. I love you too.”

I hung up as people were starting to file off the place and Chubby McPervert still hadn’t gotten out of his seat and I needed to grab my carry on from the overhead bin. I swung my purse onto my other shoulder making sure it whipped right across his sleeping face and I put a look of abject horror on mine, “Oh mah gosh! I am SO sorry, This purse was a present from my Daddy so I can carry all my stuff and I just have not gotten used to this big ol’ thing!”

He grunted and finally got up. He apparently didn’t have a carry on and I stuck out my tongue at his retreating back to the amusement of the little boy seated behind me. Stepping into the narrow aisle and grabbing my little roller bag that contained all my toiletries and a few changes of clothes in case the airline lost my suitcase, I rolled after everyone else exiting the plane and entered the indoor city that was (to me) a large international airport.

The hustle and bustle of an airport right before Christmas was overwhelming and I looked for a place where I could get out of the way and get my bearings.

I found a pillar in front of a bank of screens framed in cheap tinsel garland that had a list of all the flights coming and going. To my dismay, it looked like a lot were already being cancelled due to the weather. When I finally found my flight, I was dismayed to see it was already delayed. I looked around the terminal for signs of where the gate might be and figured waiting there was as good as any place.

It took what felt like an hour to traverse the bustling airport and I was pretty sure I had walked to the next county.

The poor gal behind the counter looked harried as people checked into the flight and a lot of grumpy faces seemed to be aware of the delay. I waited patiently in line for my turn as she tried to find accommodations for people who needed to make connecting flights. Much to my chagrin, Chubby McPervert huffed up behind me and spent the next 20 minutes grumbling under his breath. When I finally got to the counter I set my giant purse on it, “Y’all look like y’all’ve had a DAY.”

She took a breath before answering, “I’m new, this is my first holiday.”

“Well take a breath, a drink of water, I gotta find my ticket on my phone anyway.”

She shot me a grateful look as Chubby McPervert made impatient huffy noises behind me. She clicked around on her computer and after a good minute I held out my phone feigning stupidity, “This is for this flight right?”

She smiled, “Yes it is.”

Chubby McPervert made another impatient huff. I wanted to tell him he sounded like the draft horses in the log pull at the county fair, but I didn’t, I just turned on the Southern Charm, “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, am I going too slow? I bet you’re in a big ol’ hurry to board a flight that’s been delayed.”

Turning back around, I made a note of the name etched on the little brass name tag as I reached over the counter with my hand and hoped the gal would follow my lead, “Bethany dear, how IS your momma doin’? I sent her a Christmas card last year and it was returned! Did she move?”

Bethany tried to hide her smirk as she caught onto my game, “You know we had to move her in with my brother last year, I’ll text you her new address.”

I made a sympathetic face, “Aw I am so sorry to hear that.”

She shook her head, “No, it’s good, after Daddy died she just couldn’t keep the farm all by herself. She fell and broke her hip, but she is doing great now. The grandkids can barely keep up with her!

She let go of my hand and passed my phone back to me, I gave her a wink and turned around with my cheeriest smile, “Bless your big ol’ heart for waiting while I caught up with my friend. I’m sure she will be happy to help you now!”

As I grabbed my purse, Bethany mouthed, “Thank you,” and I ventured into the waiting area to take a seat and wait for my delayed plane.

I was deep into a meditation podcast when I felt a tap on my shoulder, Bethany was bent over me, “Ms. Thibodeaux? Can I have you come up to the counter please?”

“Absolutely,” I answered, pulling my earphones out of my ears as I stood.

Setting my purse on top of my rolling carry on, I followed her to the counter. When she was back behind the computer she made a few taps, “Unfortunately, the gentleman behind you in line had to find an alternate flight, so we now have a first class seat available, would you like a free upgrade?”

A free upgrade into first class? I didn’t even know there was such a thing.

Bethany seemed to sense my hesitation, “There’s more legroom? You get to drink?”

She knew exactly what I needed. Bethany was like my secret Santa, “Well in that case, how can I say no?”

She gave me an updated paper ticket, “Your flight is about an hour out, enjoy!”

It was her turn to give me a wink and I was suddenly very grateful for my parents who taught me to treat everyone with respect and patience.

Returning to my seat to wait, I watched people exit a freshly landed plane, watched the cleaning crew get on, the switching of the pilots and attendants, the waiting area emptied as they started to board the plane like a herd of grumpy cattle and eventually it taxied away from the gate.

There was a duty free store across from where I was sitting and I idly wondered how many of those little gin bottles it would take to fill my water bottle and more importantly, how much it would cost. I finally decided, “Way too damn much,” and I was saved from a potentially bad decision by the loudspeaker announcing my flight. I blinked and noticed the waiting area had filled up again with weary holiday travelers and the flight was going to be very full as cancellations meant everyone was trying to get somewhere before the storm covered most of the US.

I got up, shrugging my purse onto my shoulder and grabbing the handle of my bag. I turned to walk around the bank of seats I was sitting in to avoid the gaggle of teenagers that had settled on the floors to take turns with the one available charging outlet, but was stopped as I smacked into a solid wall that I did not remember sitting next to.

Rebounding off the slab of granite, I tried to step back but the back of my knees hit my carry-on and they buckled. I felt myself losing my balance, before two large hands wrapped around my arms to steady me.

I would be the first to admit it was tough to date men when a woman happened to be nearly six feet tall and could be generously described as “curvy.” Dan had been almost two inches shorter than I was, and was one of the very few men who didn’t seem bothered by the fact I was bigger in every sense of the word. That is what I had believed, anyway, until I found him balls deep in our wedding planner who was all of five foot and 100lbs soaking wet.

The man I ran into, however, was much taller than Dan -- much taller than I was-- and it was a weird experience looking up into a man’s eyes instead of down. Not that I was complaining.

I felt my mouth open before I told it to and I knew stupid was going to come out, “Oh mah goodness you are handsome.” My drawl became more pronounced when I was nervous and I had a feeling I just went full ‘back in the holler down by the crick’ Southern.

He blushed, murmuring what had to be a thanks and let go of my arms, gesturing for me to walk in front of him. When I turned around the aisle between the banks of metal framed seats had cleared like a combine gone through a wheatfield.

Making my way to the gate, I could feel the man’s huge presence behind me and I realized for the first time, I was unsettled because he made me feel almost small. Adelaide Thibodeaux don’t you dare trip or make a fool of yourself more than you already have.

I scanned my ticket with my new seat assignment and headed down the gangway to a thankfully, much larger airplane than the first one. First class looked like having a king sized bed to myself after flying on what was essentially a deflating balloon next to the world’s sweatiest man. The seats were in pairs on either side of the aisle and even economy, which had three seats on either side, looked roomy comparatively.

My seat was smack in the middle of first class and I was by a window. I stopped and pushed the extendable handle down on my carry-on and before I could pick it up the man I had crashed into basically palmed the thing like it weighed no more than a feather and lifted it into the overhead bin, before putting in his own bag and laying his very nice coat on top of both of them.

I felt a flush the exact color of my blazer creep up my neck and into my cheeks. “Um thanks! Polite and handsome, my momma would love you.”

Adelaide Thibodeaux, what the actual flying fuck are the words coming out of your mouth?

I took my seat near the window and looked out at the workers throwing the luggage onto the plane, hoping the very tall, very handsome man would keep going and I would never see him again. Which would be disappointing, but quite alright since I apparently couldn’t control the verbal diarrhea around him and I wanted to sink directly through the plane to the ground below.

I was not that lucky; God didn’t seem to want to grant me any favors to avoid paralyzing embarrassment this day and I glanced up at the man who was about to sit next to me. From a different angle and finally focusing on his face, I immediately recognized him and I turned my face toward the window again to have a minor meltdown. I was about to spend the entire flight next to a Carolina Hurricane and I did not want to find out what incredibly stupid things could come out of my mouth in six whole hours.

When I looked back over and swallowed he gave me a funny look, suddenly the plane seemed even smaller than the one I arrived on. There may have been at least four inches between our arms, but it felt like nothing and I swear I could feel the heat of his body coming through his stylish sweater. The awkward silence stretched tight like a bungee cord and I knew when it finally snapped I was going to feel the lash.

He held out his hand, “Joel, and I’m sorry about putting my hands all over you, but I don’t make a habit of letting beautiful women fall to the floor.” His smile indicated he was anything but sorry.

In that moment, I wished his hands had been all over me. I cleared my throat and willed myself to say something normal, “Adelaide, and it’s no problem, hot hockey players catch me in airports all the time.”

I winced internally at the flood that escaped my lips, but he just chuckled, “First time flying?”

“What? No! Excuse you sir, I fly all the time.” I had an intelligent, stubborn, impulsive little sister, I could razz with the best of them.

He grinned, and looking at him was like looking directly into the sun, he was so hot, “Are we making up stories? I’m going to win the Norris this season.”

The teasing was enough to release that awkward tension and I smacked his bicep playfully, “Shut UP I am not that obvious!” I don’t know what bayou I was suddenly born in but the Southern just jumped right out and I sounded like I should be noodling catfish and not flying to another country.

“Just when I think I’ve gotten used to the southern accent, you sound a little different than people in North Carolina,” his smile was infectious and I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Well Mr. Edmundson, you are acquirin’ quite the ear. I have a ‘bama accent not a Carolinan one.”

He squinted his eyes in thought for a moment, “Alabama?”

“The Sweet Home one, yes.”

The gorgeous pea coat he had been wearing was in the overhead bin, leaving him in just a burgundy cashmere sweater and soft jeans that hugged the muscles in his thighs. “How did an Alabama girl start watching hockey?”

This was a story that had been told more than once in our house during the holidays because Alabama was definitely football country. “Back in 2017 Bama lost a game to Auburn and at one point Daddy screamed at the TV, ‘If you let that dumbass team beat you I am never watchin’ football again!’ Auburn beat us 27 to 14 and my daddy is a stubborn southern man and hasn’t watched a single pass since. We all thought it would last a week tops but here we are 2 years later and now we’re all Canes fans.”

“When you say… us?” He had an eyebrow raised.

I realized I probably sounded like one of those fans that thinks they are on the team, “Oh! Alabama football, Roll-Tide! If you’re from Alabama you’re a Bama fan or an Auburn fan. We are a ‘Bama family and I am a ‘Bama alumni.”

He grinned and shook his head, “I know you’re speaking English, but I’ll be damned if I understood a single word, but you sure look cute saying it.”

The heat flooding my cheeks could have probably cooked a holiday turkey and I was certain my face was the same color as my blazer. It almost felt like I was being hit on. Clearing my throat, I fiddled with my phone, opening and closing apps hoping my brain was going to restart soon because it needed to tell my heart to stop beating a million times a minute.

The silence stretched like some eldritch being between us until he broke it again, “So you’re obviously from around here…ish. What is taking you to Winnipeg?”

He was almost too handsome to look at directly, “I am actually going to Toronto for the holidays.”

A perplexed look crossed his face, “are you on the right plane?”

I sighed, “Yes, my ‘travel agent,’” I made air quotes, “is a cousin on my momma’s side, honestly, the whole side of the family is a lost cause.”

He replied with a knowing nod, “Gotcha, so do you have family up there? Meeting family? Friends?”

I nervously fiddled with the end of the seatbelt, “Uh no, I’m going by myself.”

He didn’t say anything and the silence began to stretch and grow like an organic being and I felt myself rushing to fill it, “It was actually supposed to be my honeymoon, until I caught my fiance having a one on one meetin’ with my wedding planner, naked, in the bridal suite of the church.

A big breath of air whooshed out of him, “Wow that kept getting worse.”

I offered a shrug, “It was not my finest moment. But the trip was non-refundable and I needed to leave, you know?”

His long strong fingers traced the edge of the armrest and he cleared his throat, “You know that Toronto is like a two hour flight from here and you’re about to fly six hours in the wrong direction.”

A humorless laugh escaped my throat, “Ha, well yes, my cousin is not really gifted in any way. The good lord didn’t see fit to give her smarts or looks, so here I am flying in the wrong direction because she dropped out of school at 14.”

He gave my hand a cursory pat and it was probably wishful thinking that he let his fingertips linger ever so slightly, “Well Adelaide, I’m very happy my mom convinced me to fly out last minute and that your cousin is terrible at geography.”

As the last few passengers filed onto the plane, the crew pulled the door shut, and the pilot came over the loudspeaker, “Sorry folks, but there is a mechanical problem with the fueling truck, it will be a few minutes longer.” There was a collective groan from everyone.

The thought of the plane going down in a snowstorm made me shiver. If the crash and subsequent explosion didn’t kill me then hypothermia would and at least I’d die next to Joel Edmundson.

He glanced at the fancy black watch on his right wrist, “I wonder if it's too late to disappoint my mother and be back to my apartment before the evening news.”

I scoffed, “You couldn’t let me fall on the ground, but you’ll let me die in a fiery plane crash by myself? AND disappoint you mother? Some gentleman you are, Mr. Edmundson.”

His grin was wide and white, “Fair enough, I can’t be disappointing my mom.”

The flight attendants were starting to make their way down the plane with the drinks cart while we waited. His fingertips were still on the back of my hands and he gave it a pat, “First drink is on me, what is your order?”

I resisted the urge to move my hand away, not because I didn’t want him touching me--I did, I wanted him to touch me all over so when I died on this death trap, I didn’t have a single regret--but the sensation was also overwheming because the Sex on a Stick that was Joel Edmundson had been caressing my hand like a lover and it was all too much.

“Lady?”

That snapped me out of my own head, “Lady?”

I don’t know what face I made but he was quick to backpedal, “No not like ‘Hey Lady!’ But L-A-I-D-I-E Like Adelaidie. Sorry, it’s a hockey thing. Nicknames.”

“Uh, my sister just calls me Addie.”

He shook his head, “Can’t have Eddy and Addie, that’s too cute.”

This was a completely surreal conversation and I wondered if the gangway to planes was like a portal to another dimension, “So Lady and Eddy is better?”

He nodded like this was a completely normal thing to talk about 5 minutes after meeting someone, “Yeah like Eddy and his lady.”

I just blinked and answered his original question in case I hallucinated this entirely ridiculous exchange. “Gin and Tonic please.”

He snickered, “Such a Lady thing to order.”

How many concussions had this man suffered?

He took our drinks and surreptitiously slipped a couple of dollars into the flight attendant's hand, then passed over my G&T, heavy on the T. I suspected I’d have to drink 20 to even feel anything close to tipsy.

As she helped the row behind us, I leaned over and Joel leaned in and now our faces were close together and it was difficult for me to focus, “Was that enough money?”

He looked confused a moment before his face softened, “Lady, drinks are free. This is first class, that was just a tip.”

I had a feeling I just showed my Alabama roots. “Oh.”

He patted my hand again and left his fingers on top of mine. Was it hot in here? It felt hot. I desperately wanted to move my hand because touching him was summer in Phoenix, completely fine in small doses and completely overwhelming after 30 seconds.

Finally, I was saved by the buzzer as my phone notified me of a text message. I regretted losing the contact of his touch immediately as I slid my hand out from under his and pulled the phone out of my purse.

Little Sister: Are you THERE YET?

No. My flight was delayed but I did get upgraded to First Class and you will NEVER GUESS WHO I AM SITTING NEXT TO.

Little Sister: TAYLOR SWIFT.

Why would Taylor Swift be flyin to Winnipeg also I’m pretty sure she owns her own plane.

Little Sister: Well then I don’t know.

Joel Edmundson

Little Sister: … Fake… Take a picture.

I AM NOT TAKING A PICTURE

Little Sister: Then you are obviously lying. It’s probably some stinky old rich guy.

I sighed as only an older sister could sigh and Joel looked over at me, “What’s up Lady?”

“My little sister is a pain in the ass,” I said as I set my phone face down on my thigh.

His smile was large and genuine. “As the little brother, I take offense.”

I offered an eye roll, “Yeah, but I bet you don’t drive your older brother crazy.”

He laughed, “I’m pretty sure he still wants to strangle me on a regular basis.”

“Well then, maybe I should introduce you to my little sister, and you can introduce me to your brother,” I said, shaking my head.

He lowered his voice, “only if she’s as gorgeous as you,”

This time I know my face matched the color of my blazer. “She got the same build as my mom. Small and petite ”

Joel sucked air through his teeth, “Sorry not interested. Petite has never been my thing.”

I almost barked and covered my mouth with my hand, “Liar. Petite is every man’s thing.”

He took a sip of his vodka soda and shook his head. “Nah”

Turning in my seat to face him I rolled my eyes, “Ok mister mysterious. What is your type?”

He stayed silent but his eyes traveled slowly down my body before he looked forward again and took another sip of his drink with a smirk.

The temperature in the cabin seemed to jump 500 degrees. I pulled the safety card out of the pocket of the seat in front of me and pretended to read it for a moment before I just started using it as a fan. “Is it hot? I feel like it’s hot.”

He just grinned to himself and took another sip of his drink.

Eventually I started babbling to fill the silence that once again stretched and started to come to life, “So Daddy said y’all won today. I couldn’t watch the game because I was flying from Birmingham to Charlotte on a plane the size of a tic tac. But, congrats.”

He just smirked. “Thanks. I was feeling good, probably why my mom was able to convince me to get on a plane last minute.”

Then something hit me out of the blue. “Shouldn’t you be flying outta Raleigh?”

His answer was punctuated by a nod, “This was the last flight to Winnipeg I could find this afternoon before the storm hit.”

“Oh that’s right we’re flying directly into a storm.” I downed the rest of my drink and resisted the urge to crush the little plastic cup in my hands.

He just arched his brow, “You’ll be fine.”

My answer was bitchier than it should have been and I grimaced as I said it, “Oh really, are you a pilot?”

“I spend hundreds of hours on a plane every year.” The look on his face was kind.

I shrunk down in my seat, thinking I was toilet scum, “Oh. I suppose that’s true.”

I glanced at my phone, my sister was still relentlessly texting and finally she called. Even though my voice was low there was no mistaking the tone when I hissed, “What Adele?”

Joel gave me another sideways glance and he seemed to have the smirk permanently etched on his face.

“No! I’m not puttin’ him on the phone. Why? Because he’s flyin’ home for Christmas, not partaking in a meet and greet with my crazy little sister. You are SO crazy. Oh my goodness gracious, put Daddy on the phone I can’t with you right now,” I growled, “Why are you like this? I swear.”

Before I knew what was happening, my phone had been snatched from my ear and his giant hands dwarfed the device. “This is Joel Edmundson and you are?”

I couldn’t hear her side of the conversation any more but I did hear her shriek and I covered my face with my hands. This poor man...and I was going to have to sit next to him for six hours and stew in my embarrassment or he’d have me moved back to economy or something.

I did my best not to listen to the conversation because I knew I was going to melt into a gooey puddle of embarrassment if I did; fortunately it was fairly easy because, true to form, my sister wasn’t letting the hockey player get a word in edgewise.

After 84 years she seemed to stop talking. “Well, Adele, It’s lovely to make your acquaintance and I’ll get your address from your sister and send you some swag. Yes, I’m sure she’ll give me your address. I can be very charming ma’am.” There was a long pause, “Well, yes she does seem immune to my charm though…”

My head whipped around at his words, but he ignored me and continued. “Well, I’ve tried to be very obvious, but she’s not picking up the cues, oh she’s dumb that way?”

His eyes met mine and he winked, he was joking. Everything was fine. He was just kidding. Of course Joel Edmundson wasn’t interested in me, imagining that could be true would be a special kind of brain trauma. I probably was dumb like my braniac sister always said.

“She IS gorgeous, I’m glad you agree, legs for days and that hair! So tell me about this loser she dumped on her wedding day… uh huh… uh huh… What a bastard. Your daddy never liked him huh? I don’t want to put the cart before the horse, but would your daddy like me? Uh huh… I can definitely work on not turning over the puck on the blueline. Is that his only complaint? Of course I’d treat her like a queen. Have you seen her?”

My mouth was hanging open so wide that my chin was somewhere around the vicinity of my boobs. Who in tarnation was this man?

“Look, Adele, I’m going to have to let you go, I think your sister might be going into shock, but add me on Instagram, okay? Great! I look forward to it, have a wonderful holiday.”

His hand had barely lifted from his ear before I heard my Daddy’s baritone, “Son?”

Joel put the phone back to his ear. “Yes, sir?”

This conversation was easier to follow because my father was a simple and forthright man, “I also think it’s crazy she’s going all the way to Toronto by herself. Uh huh…. Yessir. Well, I’d love to accompany her to Toronto, but I’m afraid I promised my mom I’d be home this Christmas. Uh huh…. Uh huh. We always love the holidays. My mom’s been baking for weeks.” He gave me a sideways glance as my father’s voice rumbled, “I can’t imagine she will like this idea.”

He covered the phone with his hand and I wondered if I had somehow been transported to a different timeline; maybe parallel universes did exist. “Your dad says I either have to go with you to Toronto or you have to come to Brandon with me.”

“He did NOT say that,” I said, furrowing my brow. I leaned forward and he held the phone out, “Daddy did Eddy take a hit to the head today?” I could barely hear him, “Because I think he might have a concussion.” Our faces were inches apart and this close I could definitely smell his soap or a hint of cologne mixing with his natural scent and it was panty dropping for sure.

He brought the phone back to his ear, “OK sir, I’ll do my best to change her mind. I have her as my captive audience for six hours. Yes sir, thank you sir. Have a great evening.”

The call was over when he handed the phone back to me and I gladly put that fucker in Airplane Mode and slid it into my purse before studying the safety placard with great interest. Eventually, the air felt extremely heavy to my left and when I glanced over Joel had turned in his seat to watch me with great interest. I gave him a dry look, “What?”

“You don’t seem interested by that phone call.”

“What phone call, that was clearly a hallucination and you are a figment of my imagination. My fear of flying is clearly manifesting into,” I gestured at his big body, “you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, your dad said if I don’t go with you to Toronto or convince you to come home with me he knows a witch and he’s gonna curse me.”

I chuckled through my nose, “My daddy wouldn’t know what a witch looked like and he sure as heck doesn’t know one. But I’m pretty sure my Auntie practices Hoodoo. But that’s just speculation. Anyway, I’m staying out of these cockamamie shenanigans.”

He looked perplexed, “You mean VooDoo?”

I rolled my eyes, “I said what I said Mr. Edmundson, Google is free.”

His eye brows hit his hairline and he made a serious face, “Okay Ms. Witchcraft Know-it-All.” Facing forward he made a sad noise, “Man, my mom is going to be so disappointed that I’m going to Toronto.”

“I think we both know that you aren’t following me to Toronto and I’m not actually invited to Christmas at your house, so don’t even try and make me feel guilty. Also, it’s weird, we met like 5 minutes ago.”

He just looked at me, deadpan, while he picked up his phone to hold it to his ear. While it rang, he spoke, “It’s been like half an hour and it IS weird, because I never let my brother meet girls I’m interested in, “Hi mom, yes, I’m on the plane. No, it’s delayed again. Yes, I will be home in time for Christmas. Listen, I’ve met this lovely woman, Adelaide, she is flying to Toronto. Yes, she knows she’s on a plane to Winnipeg. There were scheduling problems. Anyway, she’s going to Toronto, on her honeymoon, BY HERSELF. Yeah, I know that’s terrible. The asshole cheated on her, ON HER WEDDING DAY, can you believe?”

I shushed him and waved my hand indicating he should lower his voice, leaving me slightly mortified that not only did his mother know what a loser I was, but so did everyone on this plane.

“Yeah she’s sitting right here. No you can’t talk to her. No, Mom. No.” He held his phone out, “My mom wants to talk to you.”

This was the most surreal experience I had ever had and I was 100% sure this was some kind of dream. I was probably the lone survivor of the plane crashing and I was pinned by piles of twisted metal and I was hallucinating as I died from blood loss. Tentatively I took his phone and held it lightly to my ear, “Umm, hello Mrs. Edmundson. Umm no ma’am I can’t call you by your first name. Southern raisin’ and all. Well, I’ve never been out of the country before and the trip was already paid for so I figured ‘why not.’ No ma’am we celebrate Christmas. My house lights up the whole block. Yeah my Daddy does displays at our house every year. My mama bakes a ham every Christmas. Yes ma’am, it’s a big deal at our house. You and my mama would get along real well Mrs. Edmundson, she asked me the same thing before I left. Mmmhmm. Yes ma’am.” I handed the phone back to Joel and sighed, “She says I’m invited for Christmas.”

He gave me a smug look, “Yeah, mom. I don’t know if Dad should bring the SUV to pick me up, I don’t know if it will be an us. Yes, I will ask her. Yes, I know. Ok. Love you, bye.”

It was his turn to down his drink and he turned to face me again. “My mom says if you won’t come to Christmas, then I have to go to Toronto with you and while that will make her sad, your safety is important.”

Was everyone in this dream crazy except me? Or maybe I was the crazy one and this was normal behavior. “I am not crashing your family’s Christmas because your mother feels a moral obligation to some sad sack you met on an airplane and because my family is trying some weird matchmaking thing.”

He sighed. “Man, my mom is going to be so disappointed. Do you have a bunch of couples stuff planned in Toronto? Are we going to get a sensual couples massage? Couples yoga? A romantic carriage ride?”

I hit the call button above my seat. “We are not getting anything. You are going home to your mother and I am going to Toronto to enjoy my solo vacation.”

The flight attendant interrupted Joel’s retort, “Can I assist you?”

I held up my empty glass. “I have a newly developed fear of flying and this man might be insane. May I have another gin and tonic, heavy on the gin, light on the tonic.”

She was ever the professional but her mask slipped as she eyed the 6’4” defenceman and her look said “Girl, look at this tall drink of water you get to sit next to for six hours, what is wrong with you?”

She didn’t actually say any of that though instead she said, “Of course, just one moment.”

Ignoring the man next to me, I impatiently tried to push my failed bangs back, They immediately fell forward again and I stared dejectedly out the window. I almost missed Joel lifting his phone, the telltale shutter sound, and him swiping his finger across the screen and the swoop of a text being sent.

I narrowed my eyes at him, “What did you just do?”

He lifted his butt off the seat and slid the phone back into his front pocket. “Sent a picture of you to my mom.”

The audacity of this man. There was a replying bing that was followed by a second bing. “Aren’t you going to check that? It’s your mom telling you not to bring Shrek to Christmas.”

He shook his head, “Don’t need to. The first one is my mom saying you look nice and it’s about time I date a nice girl and the second one is my brother asking how serious we are and if he has a shot.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are such a fibber.”

He snorted, “A ‘fibber’?”

“Yes, you know, someone who is a liar.” My drawl drug that 'i' out to pasture and the 'r' was soft and barely pronounced.

“Oh I know what it means, Lady, I just haven’t heard that word used in this decade.”

I swatted his bicep again, “Are you always this annoying or is this just for me?”

He rubbed his arm and faked a wince. “Am I going to have to tell Rod the Bod I can’t play because I was abused by a girl on an airplane?”

I countered his question with one of his own, “You call your coach ‘Rod the Bod?’”

Joel dropped his arm to the rest again. “Not to his face, because I value living, but have you seen the man?”

He had a valid point. Rod Brind’Amour was jacked in all the right ways. “Of course I’ve seen him, I have eyes for goodness sake.”

The flight attendant returned with my happy juice in a much larger glass and waved away the few dollars I tried to give her and her eyes darted to the man next to me before she gave me a pointed glance.

I took a sip and I didn’t think there was a drop of tonic water in it. I just had a straight up highball glass full of gin. “I do believe that woman is trying to get you into the mile high club Mr. Edmundson.”

He snorted, “Baby I’m already in the club, but I’d be more than happy to provide your initiation.”

I didn’t know what to say to that so I just sipped my gin and my face was once again just as red as my blazer.

He snuck a glance at me, “You blush so easily, it’s fantastic.”

[theframelines]

Rue Sainte-Catherine by MichelPaquin1

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“DETECTIVES TRYING TO LINK UP CRIMES,” Montreal Gazette. January 14, 1933. Page 2. ---- Victims and Witnesses of Recent Hold-ups Taken to Detective Bureau ---- Efforts yesterday and last night to have victims of recent hold-ups which occurred in the city and district identify the six men being held for the robbery of the Banque Canadienne Nationale branch on Notre Dame street east on Thursday afternoon were reported as a failure. The detectives had a large number of witnesses and victims on hand. 

The detectives will continue this work early next week when it will be possible to have storekeepers or clerks Who were victimized go to the Detective Bureau. 

Of the many persons who looked the prisoners over yesterday, one or two thought they recognized one or more of the sextette but they were not certain enough to enable the detectives to lay any charge in any specified case, Other witnesses, however, will be culled in an effort to make certain if the members of the gang are the men who have taken part in a number of so-far unsolved hold-ups, 

Verdun detectives went to headquarters last night with the managers and clerks of three Thrift stores which were robbed before Christmas. In one case it seemed that identification was possible but the detectives are not yet satisfied and will bring other witnesses to see the prisoners before a charge is laid.