#Hair Cut Ontario

[love-menzone]

Barbershop In Heartland

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Reference taken from here.

#barbershop in Heartland #hair cutting salon #beard Services #Top 10 barbershop in Oakville #Top 10 barbershop in Ontario

[lovelytsunoda]

sleigh ride // lance stroll

summary: christmas has never been his holiday. but she adores it, and he wants to make this christmas one that she won't forget.

pairing: lance stroll x fiancee!reader

warnings: marriage proposals, fluffy lance, it's super duper cheesy, lance quotes emily henry's "beach read", where can i get a lance

the snow fell down on niagara falls in scattered flurries, the waterfalls the town used as their namesake almost frozen solid in motion as they spilled into lake ontario. the sun was setting, with niagara-on-the-lake doused in an orange-pink glow as the couple ran out of the b'n'b, giggling hand in hand.

"lance, where are we going?" she giggled, mitten-clad hand clutched in her boyfriend's as he pulled her along the snowy sidewalk.

"just trust me, but you'll need to close your eyes." lance stroll insisted, turning to face her, pressing his warm lips to her rapidly cooling forehead. "we're almost there."

"if you say so." she chortled, closing her eyes and following lance as he guided her, gentle flakes falling against her knitted hat.

the breeze was cold, cutting through the many layers that they both wore as lance urged her forwards. her mind was swimming with all the possibilities lance could have come up with, but she couldn't settle on any.

christmas had never been his thing. he was raised jewish, and she had celebrated hannukah with his family before, so why would he celebrate christmas anyways? the answer was simple: because she enjoyed it. he could convince himself to embrace a little more of the christmas spirit than normal when she was around, when she insisted on putting that stunning tree in their living room, or buying elf ears for their dog.

"okay, you can open your eyes now."

she opened her eyes, instantly covering her mouth to stop the delighted scream from coming out and scaring the horses. sitting in front of her were two stunning black mares, towing a snow-white sleigh, decorated with white glitter and snowflakes, a plush throw blanket thrown over the bench in the back.

"lance, this is incredible!"

lance beamed, glowing under the streetlamps as he pulled open the metal gate door. "milady." he giggled, reaching for her gloved hand to help her into the sleigh.

she curled into him on the bench, lance fluffing the blanket out behind and over their bodies before the well-dressed man sat in the driver's seat of the sleigh flashed them a smile, and the horses began their slow trot down the cobblestones.

she slipped her gloves off, taking lance's cold hand in hers as she played with his fingers, head resting comfortably on his shoulder. her breath crystallized in the air, snowflakes falling into the sleigh and promptly melting on the winter mats on the ground.

lance himself was fidgety, the tiffany and co. box burning a hole in the pocket of his parka. he was so anxious about asking that he'd almost done it that morning, over coffee and croissants at breakfast.

but she deserved more than that. she deserved something meaningful, something special (not that there was anything wrong with a little bit of privacy and keeping it lowkey, he just wanted to have a great proposal story to pass down to their kids. after y/n told him that her father proposed to her mother by saying 'we need to talk', he vowed that his proposal would be special).

she turned her head, pressing a frosty kiss to his warm skin. "i love you, lance."

he smiled, burying his nose in the top of her knitted hat. " i love you more, pretty girl. i've got another surprise for you, if you're up for it."

she looked up at him, hair falling in front of her face, skin pink from the cold as she smiled back at him. "what kind of surprise?"

"you'll see. it's just around this corner, love."

the sleigh pulled up to a small gazebo, cords of string lights wrapped around the weathered wooden beams to light up the small space, now that the sun was behind the clouds, the last dregs of daylight hovering in the space between night and day.

lance got to his feet, opening the sleigh gate before the driver could even get down from his perch. with her long fleece scarf hanging down to her knees, she daintily descended from the sleigh, hand in hand with her boyfriend as he led her towards the gazebo.

the snow beneath their feet was dusted with deep purple rose petals, some small tea light candles on the steps. as they got closer to the gazebo, she could see the small lightbox letters, lit up in a warm, soft yellow as they got closer, spelling out two words.

marry me.

"oh, lance." she breathed, at a loss for words as she anxiously wringed her hands.

she could hear the wooden boards creaking behind her as lance sunk down to one knee, reaching into his pocket for the turquoise box. he rested the box on his knee, frozen hands shaking as he pulled it open.

"i really should have thought this through a little better. i'm cold as shit." he giggled nervously. "but i know christmas means a lot to you, and i wanted to make this as special as i could."

she gasped, hands coming up to cover her mouth as she saw the ring: a single princess-cut diamond resting on a silver band, two small pink gemstones holding the center gem in place.

"y/n, i'm head over heels for you, and i always have been. every morning i wake up next to you, and i think, this could all go away. the racing, the money, the fame, all of it. but as long as i had you by my side, i wouldn't care. as long as i had you, i'd be happy. because you make me so happy, y/n. you remind me of all the good in the world, all the reasons to keep going. in the words of emily henry, yes, i've read your romance books, 'when i watch you sleep, i feel overwhelmed that you exist'. man, she got that right. i feel overwhelmed with love, and with care. and some days, i wonder why you chose me when you could have had any man you wanted. y/n y/'l/n. pretty girl. love of my life." lance sniffled, wiping at the tear that was threatening to fall into his stubble. "will you marry me?"

"yes!" she shouted, her voice echoing across the clearing as she started to giggle. "yes, of course i'll marry you." her eyes started to sting, tears pricking the corners of her vision, so overcome with love for man on his knees in front of her.

she sunk to her knees as well, the frost on the gazebo cold against the knees on her jeans. she clasped lance's hands in her own, pulling him in for a gentle kiss before he slipped the ring onto her finger, foreheads resting against each other.

"thank you so much for saying yes. i can't think of a day in the foreseeable future that i don't want to spend with you by my side."

"oh, lance." she laughed through her tears of joy. "don't make me cry."

"i'm not trying to, my love." he laughed, tears pricking at his eyes. "god, i just love you so much."

"i love you more." she laughed, tucking her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before glancing down at the sterling silver on her finger.

lance kissed her hairline, holding her close and breathing in her scent.

if this was every day for the rest of his life, then he was wondering why he'd waited so long to ask.

TAGS:

@libraryofloveletters @magnummagnussen @lorarri @httpiastri @cartierre @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @oconso @thatsdemko @silversainz

#lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #the christmas collection 2023 #mini fic

[piizunn]

ᓄᐦᑕᐃᐧᕀ ᐊᐢᑯᑖᐢᑯᐱᓱᐣ nohtawiy askotâskopison, My Father’s Cradleboard by Morgan Possberg Denne

The New Gallery, November 18 - December 22, 2023

“Cradleboards have been used for thousands of years by our ancestors to carry and love for our future generations. They have protected us, acted as an external womb, and given us a place as children to watch our parents' culture and learn from a safe distance. I’ve always wondered if the fact that neither my father, his father, or myself was ever put in a cradleboard may have had a long term impact on our development, personhood, and our coping mechanisms to the ways that colonialism, residential schools and the foster care system has affected my family.

Now as an adult I deeply wish I could rewind the clock and put myself, and my father before me, and his father before him in a cradleboard as a child. To softly sing songs to us, give us safety, and to give us a connection to our culture in a safe environment. Maybe this would fix things. As kids when we were supposed to be kept safe and playing in the woods we were instead being prepped for the meat factory - the eternal meat grinder of colonialism.

The western world teaches us to push aside this childhood imagining and innocence - “These things can’t be undone!”, but what if they could? In another world somebody took better care of us, in another time we learned to drum and sing and dance, in another place we were listened to by adults who had the capacity to love and care for us.

These hot chest and aching throat feelings, the times of biting back angry tears and saying “It’s fine” have to count for something….right?”

“Morgan Possberg Denne is Two-Spirit millennial scoop and foster care survivor; with settler, Cree, Metis, and Chippewa blood connections. They have grown up in treaty 7 territory, and have relatives in southern and northern Ontario. Morgan creates imaginative, illustrative objects which could be seen as pieces of possible narratives, different ways to connect with the past and potential futures through layers of abstraction with no right or wrong answer. What matters to them is not accurately recreating the past or to predict the future, but rather to capture an inner truth and a possible alternative reality of colonial experiences. In a sense, creating new culture from a series of “what-ifs” and new stories / lore. Their work has been recently shown at the Confederation Centre for the Arts and Gallery Gachet.”

(Photos belong to me and the description and artist bio are courtesy of The New Gallery’s website)

[IDs:

1. a large wall hanging made from fish leather,

2. a close up of the same piece. the artwork has faint text cut out of the green tea tanned fish that reads “hey it’s not your fault, you know that right?”

3. a photo of the space showing a video projected onto several fish skins, a table with a vest and a hat made of fish leather, and on the table are cartons made from rawhide.

4. a coatrack on which are a rawhide hunting ruffle and rawhide fishing net resembling a badminton racket

5. a shelf seen in the background of image 3 containing a astro-turf shirt, a hand gun and pocket knife made from rawhide and a fish leather circular clip with a piece of dark hair hanging off the shelf.]

#my picks #morgan is a dear friend of mine <3 #they taught me how to tan fish leather! #art #indigenous art #cree #métis #chippewa #canadian art #contemporary art #indigenous contemporary art #curation #artist run centre #artists #fish leather #leather #rawhide #traditional art #sculpture #installation #video art #my images

[devskindawritingblog]

Dating Lottie Matthews Christmas HCs (1996)

Disclaimer: This is my first time writing something like this. Also this might not be truly in character but they are headcanons so 🤷‍♀️Another thing is I live in Canada, specifically northern Ontario. So I would assume winters here are way colder and different from those in New Jersey.But I will try my best :) And I use canadian spellings ( colour, favourite, etc ) Hope you like it 

Really likes the christmas and the holiday season

Winter is not her favourite season, but she gets through it just for christmas

As a child, she probably got anything she wanted for Christmas because of her family's wealth

As she got older, her family’s Christmases got worse

Her parents would be gone so often

So she would mostly be alone for Christmas

But still, she would get what she wanted

She takes you ice skating with her

And is shivering the whole time

“I didn't know ice skating would be so… cold”

That girl is not cut for the cold

She puts on a little pair of mitts, no hat (she supposedly didn't want to ruin her hair), a jacket and leggings with those leg warmers

And she is still complaining about being cold

She doesn't do great with the skating thing

She’s like those baby deer learning to walk 

I mean, look at those legs

That girl is clumsy as hell

I just know she's slipping and sliding all over the ice

She needs to use one of those things they give to kids when they are learning to skate

Or she is clinging to you and not letting go

Until, inevitably, she slips and takes you down with her

It’s all fine in the end though

She buys you guys hot chocolate, and you go watch a little light parade

She forces gently encourages you to wear matching Christmas-themed outfits together with her

Like think her pink skirt, but instead it’s red with a matching green top and a Santa hat

If she can't convince you to wear a skirt, she will compromise with some red pants instead

She would really like candles 

Maybe even those holiday ones from bath and body works

She’s a cinnamon and vanilla gal

Nothing too pungent, just something subtle and nice

She gets you a few too many gifts, just because she can

And she got that rich girl allowance to spend 

She's got like a million fuzzy blankets and hogs every single one of them

Rewatches the 1986 Nutcracker 

She prefers to watch the classic Christmas movies

While she cuddles with you on her couch

#My first !! #Lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #yellowjackets x reader #Christmas headcannons

[starry-mist]

S5e15 and s5e16 thoughts:

Obviously I need to do these ones together. I'm also going to try to do this as sort of a review rather than general thoughts...it's my first time trying this so be nice, LOL.

I have a few thoughts before I jump into the episodes.

One of the main reasons (other than the obvious one of having these additional characters with their own storyline that initially seems separate from what the series regulars are doing) that this initially felt like a backdoor pilot is because one of the titular characters is noticeably absent. And we know this was because John and Meghan were expecting their third child to be born right around the time this was scheduled to film, so he wasn't available. I'm not saying it couldn't still be a backdoor pilot, but I think it's unlikely for the moment.

The story we got was very different from the original synopsis in the article about the Ontario government funding production in Northern Ontario (https://www.nugget.ca/news/five-film-tv-productions-receive-funding) which again, is likely because John was unavailable so they launched Sarah and Jesse into the spotlight for this one.

I know Jesse fans have a lot of feelings about his glasses, and I agree that the explanation for why he no longer wears them is pretty weak. Fans of this show do have a tendency to fixate on changes in character appearances (see also: much controversy on Facebook about Charlie's season 6 hair.) Anyway, characters evolve, people change, I'm just going to leave it at that. Maybe Justin was just sick of wearing them.

Without further ado:

We open with a lovely aerial shot of “Webster Bay,” which I’m sure is 100% a real place and totally not North Bay, Ontario. (It's absolutely not a real place.) A couple is having a romantic moment by the side of the road. Very sweet. Until it turns out the man is there to rob the house across the street. That's...perhaps a little less sweet.

The home invasion/robbery hits a little snag when the homeowner is, well, home, and goes at the would-be robber with a sizeable pair of scissors. He accidentally knocks her out trying to disarm her, and it's time for the happy couple to GTFO.

Roll credits.

Back in St. John's, the Major Crimes team has ordered lunch. Jesse gets an ominous phone call from his previously-never-mentioned sister.

It's the season of new family members coming out of the woodwork. Sigh.

Anyway, Jesse's sister is in Northern Ontario, as far as he knows (which is apparently where they both grew up...look I'm just going to keep rolling my eyes at all of these things that could have been mentioned IN FOUR PREVIOUS SEASONS) and is in trouble. Come quick. No cops. Doesn't sound sketchy at all...

Jesse's ready to go to her rescue, but Charlie doesn't think he should go alone.

Sarah: You want to go with him?

Charlie: I was thinking you. And Rex.

(Yeah, remember those establishing moments I mentioned in the previous two episodes? Those are now relevant.)

Apparently Charlie has some important stuff he has to take care of.

(Please remind me I need to someday write a fic about Charlie’s guilt at sending the trio into harms way.)

This whole scene is a little forced, IMHO, but anyway, off they go.

Cut to Ontario, where we now have MEGAN FREAKING FOLLOWS, OMG, BE STILL MY ANNE OF GREEN GABLES-LOVING HEART. At this point, I should note that I do love these fleshed-out original characters and their stories, which initially feel strange given we've never seen them before, but will make sense later.

(Pause for my usual commentary of same actor, different character: Cihang Ma previously played Holly in s3’s Seeing is Deceiving. Here they play Detective Kai Huang, and let me just express my appreciation for a non-binary actor playing a non-binary role.)

Anyway, Detective Anne of Green Gables Sidney Scott is on scene and having flashbacks. It looks like she lost someone close to her. Kai thinks the people who broke in were addicts. Sidney has other ideas. She talks to the victim's husband, Tim Cooper, who apparently worked with her husband as well. But she makes it clear that she's definitely off work and totally not on the case.

Right...

Back to St. John’s, Charlie is having someone dig up Constable Charlie Hudson’s incident reports from October 30, 2009. Okay first off, I would have appreciated some flashbacks to a younger Charlie, but I don't always get what I want (rarely, in fact.) And we find out that Charlie is investigating his "white whale" of a child abduction case that has haunted him for 14 years, which has of course been foreshadowed in prior seasons because this show is so amazing at continuity. /s

Cut to Charlie's house, with him taping up a makeshift "murder board" on the wall. My dude, you're going to need to repaint...

Meanwhile in Ontario, we have lovely wide shots of fall colours. So pretty. We also have rapid-fire voiceover exposition from Sarah and Jesse on their arrival, where they're going, how long it's taken them to get there, and honestly, this is yet another of those "show, don't tell" moments that this show struggles with.

The trio arrive at “an old Cold War missile site” where Jesse and Crystal came when they were kids, riding their bikes down from his uncle’s place. Questions abound about who actually raised Jesse, who has mentioned his mom (in a throwaway line in s2) and a deceased father. Now there was apparently an uncle? Okay we'll go with it. Anyway, Jesse and Crystal used to hang out here and build camps in abandoned buildings.

Sarah and Rex are the third wheels (actually fourth and fifth, I suppose) in the Jesse/Crystal/random sketchy boyfriend scene as they head into an abandoned hangar. Sketchy boyfriend (who has a name that I'm not bothering to look it up given he won't be around that long) wants to know if these new additions are cool.

Sarah: Dr. Sarah Truong, hi. We’re cool.

(I don't know why I find that line so amusing.)

Rex senses danger. Looks like it's time to GTFO of the hangar.

This is where I point out that two of these characters are weapons-trained cops, one of whom we have seen is basically a sharpshooter…And none of this apparently matters as neither of them have a weapon on hand that they can use. Oops.

Going to have to suspend disbelief at the fact that the sniper can instantly kill the bf, shoot out the tires on Sarah and Jesse's rental car (that's going to be a hefty repair bill,) but then they're all just able to run out in the open and magically escape…right.

This is pretty elaborate for a scene that is essentially just a setup for the plane crash.

Sidney Scott visits a man named Elvis Migwan outside the local hospital. We learn that there is a local Indigenous community whose water has apparently been affected by runoff from a mining operation. Elvis's daughter is sick. And this is a really relevant topic given how many Indigenous communities in Canada lack access to clean water.

Back to the airfield, and I'm just going to speculate that they blew the budget on this next scene and on the plane crash.

Apparently flight simulator games have taught Jesse enough that he can figure out how to fly a plane...again, suspending disbelief. The team take to the skies and are promptly shot down by the sniper, as my anxiety begins to ratchet up.

The remote lake where they crash would be a pretty place to camp in any other circumstance.

Anne of Green Gables Sidney has a nice, large house. It's actually pretty big for one person. Hey, Sidney has that in common with Charlie. They should hang out. Inspector Yousef Ali stops by and brings Sidney dinner. It's a salad. She's displeased. I start to ship them.

Charlie and Joe have a scene at Charlie’s house and it's just not working for me. I can't help it. The whole Alison case appearing out of the blue feels forced.

(However, Joe is totally checking out the new, shall we say, feminine touches in Charlie’s house.)

At the crash site, Jesse manages to smash open his door when there were two perfectly good open ones on the other side of the plane, because reasons? Crystal’s wrist is probably broken, Jesse’s got some cracked ribs…but at least they have a doctor with them who’s totally in one piece and definitely not injured.

Sarah asks for a first aid kit, presumably to do, you know, actual first aid...oh wait, no, instead she scribbles some notes on a piece of paper, which she rolls into a little case that she attaches to Rex's collar. With a tearful hug, she sends Rex off into the wilderness.

Cue “The Littlest Hobo” theme.

Rex wanders the woods.

Sidney Scott decides to go back to work.

Back at the crash site, we find out Crystal’s a pretty big screwup, and Jesse chastises her for her messing up her life. Not super helpful at the moment, Jesse.

Sarah starts to look disoriented and possibly in pain. This is going to get worse before it gets better.

Rex encounters some sort of bird of prey (I think it's a hawk, but I'm not an expert.) No worries, he'll just hide under a bridge for a moment.

Another "same actor different character" moment: the actor playing Bertrand Boyle previously appeared as Tucker Moore in s4’s No Man is an Island.

Rex is under a sky full of stars, which I'm sure he'd pause to appreciate if there weren't a pack of wolves nearby. I believe I read somewhere that Sherri Davis who trains the dogs actually trained all the animals that appeared in this one. I’m in awe of her talent.

Morning at the crash site. Crystal is about to peace out. Jesse talks her into staying. And Sarah wakes up in rough shape.

And here is where I state that Mayko Nguyen is the best actor on this show, fight me. She completely nailed that subtle shift when Sarah realizes that she's injured, and more seriously than she initially thought.

(Side note: I love that Mayko is wearing her trademark huge puffy warm coat. She is apparently always cold.)

So anyway, Sarah has realized that she's bleeding internally, and tells Jesse that he'll need to operate.

Right…

Sarah: You can do anything you put your mind to, Jesse Mills. You just flew a plane!

I really hope they submitted this episode for this year's Canadian Screen Awards.

On his continued trek through the wilderness, Rex encounters the most fearsome of woodland creatures: a skunk. Oh no! What if he ends up smelly?!! Anyway, Rex wins the territorial battle, and over the log bridge he goes.

Oh look, an owl.

So many critters.

There's a road! And with a short swim, Rex has officially made it back to civilization where he is promptly picked up by some sinister characters in a truck.

I'm not going into the gory details of Jesse doing field surgery on Sarah, because I still find it hard to watch, but anyway, give Mayko an Emmy. Hell, give her an Oscar. Give her all the things.

...right now, because I’m not watching these separately.

Ugh. Field surgery. I feel very much the same way as Jesse does when it comes to blood.

Cut to the Ontario Police Service (or whatever they’re calling their version of Ontario Provincial Police) HQ building, which I’m pretty sure is part of Nipissing University, as is the “hospital” we see later.

Detective Scott, meet Rex. He'll keep you on your toes.

See you later, sketchbags in the pickup truck. Nobody messes with our boy Rex.

Oh hey, it’s Charlie Hudson. Kind of forgot about that guy for a moment. Anyway Charlie and Joe get a call from Sidney about the plane crash. Charlie holds back...really any emotion whatsoever.

Sidney! Rex! Helicopter!

Sidney sends Charlie a photo of the note that Rex brought her, and Charlie recognizes Sarah’s handwriting. Joe tries to be reassuring. Okay, now they're showing a little bit of worry at the unknown fate of their friends.

Sarah is now semi-conscious and making last requests.

Sarah: If I don’t make it you have to find Rex…tell Charlie…

Jesse: No, you’re gonna tell him yourself…

Me: Tell him what, exactly? Because you've been a couple more than long enough that I refuse to believe there have been no "I love yous" exchanged, even if we've yet to see it said on screen.

Anyway Sarah passes back out, while I continue to hyperventilate.

Cut to St. John's. Charlie feels guilty for not going. Joe steers him back into his B plot. It still feels forced.

Sidney chatting "with" Rex as he leads her through the woods cracks me up.

At the crash site, Sarah wakes up feverish. She knows she probably an infection. So she should totally drink the unfiltered lake water Crystal brings her, because what’s a little E. coli going to do? Anyway apparently it’s all good as long as the paramedics push IV antibiotics…whatever. Sidney and Rex of course arrive at exactly the right time!

Rex lays protectively on his “mom.”

And the look Sidney gives Crystal tells us her shit is officially about to hit the fan.

Jesse has a phone call with Joe and Charlie to fill them in on all the nitty-gritty. Charlie wants to talk to Sarah, who is now in actual surgery. Jesse goes to check on his sister, who is now under arrest.

Crystal: I just watched my boyfriend get shot and killed and was pretty sure we were all gonna die in a plane crash. It’s been a lot.

Sarah Swire's deadpan delivery of the above lines is just so good.

Sidney questions Crystal, and it become clear that she definitely has a personal stake in this. Crystal swears there was no gun at the house her boyfriend robbed. She wants Jesse to cover for her by taking the backpack full of money, which of course he does. For now.

Sidney: Are you here as a cop or a brother?

Jesse: I have to be both.

Rex wants to help Sidney track the shooter. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship!

In Sarah's hospital room, she's sitting up in bed and talking to Charlie, albeit briefly. That conversation should have been longer and more emotional.

Tracking the shooter leads to more amusing Sidney and Rex "conversation." They find the type of gun that was used to kill Sidney’s husband. Suddenly Sidney's personal stake in the case makes sense.

Jesse and Sarah chat in her hospital room where she's looking pretty well recovered considering she just had two abdominal surgeries...and then she’s up and at it looking over forensics with Kai. It turns out Kai had the wrong time of death.

Joe reassures Charlie, who is feeling stuck on the Alison case, that he’s a great cop, great detective, blah blah. Says he needs to figure out how to move on so he can be ready for the next people who need his help. So clearly we’re done with this case and it definitely won’t reappear in a future episode...*eyes the next episode on the list*

The totally-not-the-shooter guy whose name I can’t be bothered to learn thinks Sidney’s husband would want her to move on and enjoy the life she has left. Okay then.

It seems that Crystal did in fact know that there would be money in the house. Also she knows about the contaminated runoff situation from the mine. Working as a cleaner, she managed to overhear all kinds of things, and through creative use of french fries, casually explains to Jesse how the mine’s money laundering scheme worked.

Incoming sniper. Again. Rex attempts a takedown but the sniper nearly runs him over with his car. Well, at least they should have a license plate now, assuming Jesse can actually see it without his glasses.

Seeing that it's time to come clean, the Mills siblings take the backpack full of money to Sidney. Crystal reveals how she knew the money was at the Cooper house by basically rehashing everything she just told Jesse. And maintains that her brush with law-breaking was "just one time."

Jesse to Crystal: Rex is really disappointed in you.

Sidney goes back to Elvis Migwan and asks how he knew about the mine runoff. And we now know that her husband faked the reports that said the water was clean.

Back at home, Sidney rips down her wall murder board. She's coming to terms with who her husband really was. He was killed in order to keep him quiet, but he knew a lot more than he let on.

Sidney goes off to question Tim Cooper, who is the actual mastermind behind all of this. Inspector Ali tells her she needs backup. It looks like she rolls up with just Rex, who stays in the car.

Sniper dude is on the scene. Oh, apparently his name is Wayne.

Rex takes him down.

Sidney gets a confession from Cooper.

And the rest of the backup team comes out of hiding.

Sidney, needing to make amends, takes a USB with proof of the falsified mine records to Elvis Migwan. It's everything he will need for his lawsuit against the mining company.

Jesse and Crystal chat as he is ready to head back home. Maybe she'll visit St. John's someday. (Here’s hoping.)

Sid puts away a photo of her and her husband. Ali shows up. Sidney tells him she's planning to sell the house, and that she doesn’t like salad. He's brought her a burger this time.

Could be love.

Sidney swears she's getting groceries tomorrow, and will be back at work on Monday. She's picking up the pieces. She also wants to choose her own partner. Say hello to Little Rex.

Sarah, Jesse and Rex head for the plane.

Jesse: You know, second time's the charm flying the plane.

Sarah: Too soon!

Charlie pulls the pictures of Alison off his wall. He's letting it go.

The door opens, and we get probably my favourite Charah scene ever. The clinging hug. The concern for each other. The intimacy of their foreheads pressed together as they gently sway.

Swoon.

Best episodes ever.

#hudson & rex #charah #charlie hudson x sarah truong #damn this got long #thanks for reading

[conradscrime]

The Strange Disappearance of Runaway Justin Pollari

March 16, 2024

In 2001, 14 year old Justin Pollari ran away from his home in Hilton Beach, Ontario, Canada. He has never been seen since.

Many youth run away from home, but most are found soon after. In 2018, 92% of missing children in Canada were found within one week.

Justin's photo was shown a lot. Posters all across Canada were put on bulletin boards, transport trucks, ect. Some believe that if the authorities took the case more seriously earlier on, Justin would have been found. Many do not take runaways seriously at first, as they think they will make contact with loved ones shortly.

Justin Pollari was born on January 31, 1987. His parents divorced when he was a baby, and he was living with his father, John and stepmother, Janis McLeod at the time of his disappearance. He had dyed black hair that he would wear in a Mohawk. Justin had two earrings in his left ear. He was known as a troubled child, never doing well in school and struggled with his parents divorce.

On December 7, 2001, Justin came home upset. He had been in a fight and his lip was cut. It was reported that he had admitted to being in this fight, however he later denied it. He was very angry and it was reported that he had even lunged at his father.

A couple hours later, Justin left the house with his skateboard and backpack that had a few clothes in it. He was wearing dark blue or black baggy pants, a dark blue or black hooded sweater, and a black toque over his 6 inch Mohawk. He had red or burgundy running shoes on.

Justin had run away from home one other time, but had gone to a friends house and returned the next day. It is unclear why he left when he did and wanted to runaway, if that was even the plan.

In the first few years, many sightings of Justin were reported. Some claimed to have seen him in a shelter in Toronto. Another person said someone matching Justin's description introduced himself as "J."

Another theory speculates he could've went to Michigan, as Hilton Beach is extremely close to the U.S. border.

Justin's family believes he was going towards Toronto. His parents and grandparents made several trips up to Toronto (a 7 hour drive for them), to look for their missing son and grandson. They went to homeless shelters, asked homeless youth, and looked through the streets.

In 2003, Justin's parents (father and stepmother) expressed frustration, stating that the shelter system makes it somewhat easy for youth to live. They think Justin was lured in by the "glamour" of Toronto street living.

A gas station attendant in Sault Ste. Marie, believed to have seen Justin get into a Quik X truck around the time he disappeared. This sighting was not reported until mid 2005, almost 4 years later.

On May 16, 2005, Justin's case was reopened by the East Algoma O.P.P. with the Criminal Investigation Branch. A huge search was completed, with a canine unit and forensics.

After 4 days, the search led to nothing.

Justin' family kept a briefcase full of photos of Justin that they would hand out during searches. They also had letters and drawings he left, that they had not discovered until after he disappeared. Three months before the disappearance, Justin had wrote to his grade 9 teacher a letter that said,

"I really hate school and the government. At class I plan on trying until I get sick of it, then I'll give up and drop out when I'm 16."

It has been reported that most youth who runaway and are at risk do so because of troubles at/with school, being bullied, having difficulty making friends, or having major life changes such as divorce, moving, or changing schools. Most runaways do not perform well in school and are seen as troublesome to teachers and peers according to the stats.

Many people believe Justin is deceased, explaining why he has been missing for over 22 years. Others think Justin made it to Toronto, or another big city and has been living homeless. Locals think more people know what happened to Justin but are not speaking out.

In 2018, Justin's case was again reopened. There are age progression photos of him available. He would be 37 years old today.

Justin's nickname was "Woody." He was listed as being 5'11 and weighing around 140 pounds. He has blue eyes and a dimple in his chin. He wore his hair in a 6 inch Mohawk style which may be dyed black or blonde. He had two earrings in his left ear and wore heavy chain necklaces.

He may have been wearing a wooden name tag with the inscription "Woody." He was an avid skateboarder and may have been hanging around skate parks. He may go by the nickname "Joe."

If you have any information regarding Justin Pollari’s disappearance or whereabouts, please contact Crime Stoppers, you can stay anonymous. Call 1-800-222-8477(TIPS)

You can also call Missing Kids at 1-866-KID-TIPS(543-8477).

The Ontario Provincial Police (OPP): 

1-888-310-1122 1-888-310-1133 (TTY)

#true crime #crime #unsolved mysteries #unsolved #unsolved murder #unsolved case #murder #homicide #solved #mystery #runaway #youth #homeless #toronto #ontario #canada #missing #missingyouth

[workingforitallthetime]

oh ok actually girl rutger offering to marry adam for citizenship

anon this is perhaps the most delicious ask that has ever arrived in my inbox. i got it just as i started a long drive and i immediately turned off my podcast and allowed my brain to simply bask in this premise for an hour straight. here we go…

our story starts three years from now, when the gang’s all reunited at phil’s wedding or something like that. around the table at the reception, everybody’s asking adam about his second contract with anaheim. he’s bitching about how there’s some massive cross-border tax hit he’s taking on his contract value because he’s filing as single. [please suspend your disbelief so we can have a good time here, okay?] the boys tell him he should just get married, he can find a wag easy enough. i don’t want a wag, adam says, she’d expect all kinds of shit. he likes living in anaheim with luca, he likes spending his money how he wants to spend it, he doesn’t want a goldendoodle or the hassle of a wag.

rutger returns from the bar with a tequila soda in hand and slides into her seat. you should marry rutger, someone says, she’s not a wag. “goddamn right,” says rutger. “what are we talking about?” adam explains the tax thing and rutger says sure, she’s up for it. it’s not like she has a boyfriend to get in the way. she wants a cut of the tax windfall, though, since adam’s second contract is poised to be a lot richer than hers.

their families shrug and roll with it. the mcgroartys were going to visit ontario this summer anyway, so the fantillis invite a few extra people over for dinner, drop a couple grand on flowers, and bam, they’ve got an impromptu backyard wedding. because this is my story and i get to have whatever i want, pat brisson and brendan are there. pat's not gonna miss two clients getting married, even if it's just a tax dodge.

it’s important that you know that rutger has an absolutely outstanding casual white wedding dress. slim skirt, tailored sleeveless midriff top, suntanned abs on display, one of those fancy ponytails with a section of hair wrapped around the rubber band and the ends curled just so. also white adidas slides.

adam watches rugter make her way down the aisle on her dad’s arm, a bouquet of peonies tipping sideways in her grasp as she reaches out to give fistbumps to their friends. when she reaches adam and he takes her hand, she gives him a big scrunch-nosed smile, like this is a joke just for the two of them, like this is the most fun she’s ever had in her life.  he thought it might feel awkward or weird to fake-marry rutger, but it just feels… easy. maybe because they’ve been friends for so long. probably because it’s just fake.

nolan moyle gets ordained and performs the ceremony, because this is my story and I get to have everything I want. they swap silicone rings (v practical for hockey) and rutger gives adam a kiss on the cheek.

they take a series of wedding photos just in case the IRS asks any questions. after a couple of prom-looking poses, adam tries to scoop rutger up in his arms for a picture, honeymoon style, and she elbows her way right out of there. "don’t fucking do that," rutger says, 'i’m not your wag." she’s a pro hockey player in her own right! Not some wife who gets carried around by her husband. got it, adam says, sorry sorry.

nothing much changes now that they’re nominally married. they still train together part of the summer, go on the same getaways with their friends, have dinner together whenever winnipeg plays anaheim. they definitely indulge a little more on those dinners, get a really nice bottle of wine that rutger makes adam pay for out of his tax savings. all their friends know they’re not seriously married, so it’s not like they even have to keep it a secret when they discreetly hook up with other people. In a weird way, rutger finds she actually feels a lot better about dating now that she’s got a husband. having a shitty first date or a bad hookup doesn’t make her spiral about dying alone and unloved anymore. funny how that works.

the pieces finally start coming together for anaheim, and adam makes the playoffs. the jets don’t. rutger goes to adam’s home games in the first round, because it would look weird if she didn’t, even if she’s still licking her own wounds about another shitty season in winnipeg. adam calls her as she’s packing. he’s really, really sorry, but troy terry’s wife says to bring light-wash jeans and wedges.

rutger has murder in her voice. “please tell me they did not get me a wag jacket.”

"i’m so, so sorry," adam says. "dani got your measurements from the equipment manager. she said it’d be weird if you didn’t have one. they look pretty sick…" he trails off.

rutger asks, dangerously quiet, “does connor have one?” no, adam says, sheepish. they both know connor’s going to be in his usual dark suit, discreetly tucked away in a suite out of view of the cameras, masking his fury about watching mason in the playoffs while the blackhawks continue to suck. exactly what rutger planned to do, with maybe a little less fury and a few more bud lites.

rutger’s voice gets more brittle. “does trevor have one?”

…actually yeah, adam says. it’s not like she can wear it while she’s playing, but she made dani get her one anyway. rutger rolls her eyes. fucking figures. trevor will probably wear it in the dressing room afterwards, just strip off her pads and prance around in a wag jacket with drysdale on the back. fine, rutger says, ungraciously. you fucking owe me so big for this.

it's humiliating, to be shuffled off to the wag box with eighteen other blonde women when rutger’s worked her whole life to be down on that ice. the broad shoulders of her jacket stand out in the row of tiny little identical black leather jackets on the garment rack. even olen zellweger’s figure skater boyfriend looks more at home than she does. she puts on a brave face for the social media photos, though, and once the game starts it’s easy to get swept up with cheering for adam. she wants this for him more than any of these other girls wants it for her man. rutger knows what this means in a way they never will. when adam scores the go-ahead goal, she screams herself hoarse.

at intermission she takes a selfie with her back to the bathroom mirror, holding her phone up to her shoulder so adam’s number is in the frame and tilting her chin so the ends of her ponytail tickle the gold-trimmed fantilli lettering across her shoulder blades. it’s obvious from her profile that she’s smiling. she texts the photo to adam as a peace offering.

the notif is the first thing adam sees when he checks his phone after the game. He opens the photo and immediately hides the screen of his phone flat against his chest, his entire body going tingly like he just got an unexpected sext. he knows better than to tell rutger it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life. he even waits until she leaves town before he makes it his lockscreen. he can do that. that’s his wife, right?

the ducks only get a taste of the postseason that year. the offseason comes too soon, and this year it feels different. not on the ice – skating with adam’s just as fun and challenging as ever. he doesn’t ever take it easy on rutger, and that's what she likes about him. but off the ice it’s different. they remind each other more often: hey, we’re married, right? like when adam stretches out on the bench seat of the boat and rests his head in rutger’s lap for her to swirl her fingers through his damp hair. or when rutger steals adam’s favorite gray hoodie and snuggles up next to him by the firepit. and finally, quietly, when they’re the only ones left at the end of the dock on a moonlit night, and adam tips up rutger’s chin and kisses her.

as summer comes to an end, they’re making real plans. how adam can stay an extra night in winnipeg when the ducks come through town, where they’ll go for the all star break, whether it’s possible to spend christmas together. but then the last weekend they spend together before training camp, rutger catches a glimpse of adam’s lockscreen and everything comes crashing down. that’s how adam likes her, huh? just another identical blonde with his name on her back? what the hell is she doing here, planning to be adam’s wag? she deserves better. she’s got her own career. she deserves somebody who’ll cheer for her. there’s plenty of girls who’d be happy to be adam fantilli’s wag and he can goddamn go and find one of them.

rutger storms off to winnipeg and channels her righteous fury into a career season. she and adam don’t go out to dinner when they’re in anaheim. She cross-checks him instead.

two weeks later, when the news comes out that adam’s torn his [insert muscle or tendon of your choice] and he’s done for the season, rutger knows she didn’t cause it, but she feels vaguely guilty anyway. especially when team usa comes calling for [insert best on best competition of your choice]. adam should be there for team canada, but he won’t be. even if being married didn't work out, rutger’s always had the most fun competing against him, and they won’t have that this year.

adam shows up anyway. He goes to [insert european country of your choice] with rutger’s family, and he meets her on the concourse after games, and he gives her achingly specific compliments about her play, and he says the right sympathetic but not patronizing things after finland beats team usa in OT to take the top seed in their group.

when team usa wins gold, rutger sees her own red white and blue jersey among the families on the ice before she realizes adam’s the one wearing it. she skates toward him slowly, clutching the flag around her shoulders like a protective shell. “good game,” adam says. His voice is a little hoarse, like he’s been cheering for her.

rutger touches her fingertip to the little American flag temporary tattoo on his cheek. “looks good on you.”

“for today I guess,” adam says. His cheek lifts under her finger when he smiles. without his skates, rutger’s almost as tall as he is. rutger kisses him, and kisses him, and keeps on kissing him even when adam scoops her up off the ice, honeymoon style. she wraps her arms around his neck and kicks one skate into the air, and doesn’t protest one bit.

#anonymouskinis #campfire story!

[all-the-things-2020]

Late Night Talking - Chapter Fifteen

Summary: Dieter and Emily spend Christmas with his brother’s family.

Word count: 7000+

Rating: PG all the way

Notes: I’ve never been to Vermont. The Christmas Market on Church Street in Burlington is real but all I know about it is what I saw on a quick Google search. Logan’s Candy in Ontario, CA is real, and so is the Parent Navel Orange Tree in Riverside. Everything else is made up.

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites @weho2kcmo

Vermont was cold. I’d been to Big Bear during the winter, so I thought I knew what cold was, but I was wrong. California cold, even in the mountains, is nothing compared to New England cold. I huddled in the puffy coat Dieter had ordered for me as I scanned the line of cars in the pick up line at Burlington International. A blue Jeep Cherokee, Dieter had said, but there were so many SUVs and it was snowing lightly, so I had a hard time. Then I saw a familiar face hanging out of a passenger side window. 

“Emily! Over here!” He waved his arm frantically, as if I wouldn’t notice him after he bellowed my name.

He hopped out and opened the back door for me. “Quick, get in out of the cold,” he said, taking my luggage around to the back. I slid into the back seat of the blessedly warm Jeep. 

“You must be Freddy,” I said to the driver.

”And you have to be Emily,” he said with a smile. “Welcome to Vermont.” He was definitely Dieter’s brother; they had the same warm brown eyes and strong nose, but Freddy was clean-shaven, his hair neatly trimmed in a conservative cut, and the only piece of jewelry he wore was a simple gold wedding band. And his care was immaculately clean. Dieter’s car always had a few empty water bottles, Kit Kat wrappers and stray bits of clothing rattling around in it, plus an assortment of scripts and paperwork that he hadn’t gotten around to taking inside yet. 

Dieter slammed the tailgate and dashed back into the car. “I always forget how fucking cold it gets here,” he said as he fumbled with his seatbelt. “You’re insane for living here.”

Freddy shrugged. “You get used to it. You’re just spoiled by that L.A. weather.”

Dieter twisted around in his seat to look at me. “You should have heard him the first winter after they moved here,” he said with a grin. “You look great, by the way.”

”I’m bundled up in this giant coat,” I replied. “You can barely see me.”

“I can see your face,” Dieter said. “And I missed it.”

”I missed you, too.” He’d been away filming most of the time since our Thanksgiving getaway. The shoot was in Toronto and he’d only been able to fly home for one weekend because of some delays on set due to weather and other complications. 

Freddy pulled out into the Christmas Eve morning traffic. The airport was busy but not as crazy as LAX had been. Thank goodness for the airport shuttle, or I would never have made my flight in time. ”I hope I didn’t mess up your holiday plans too much,” I said. “Having to pick someone up at the airport is hassle enough, let alone on Christmas Eve.”

Freddy shrugged again. “Leila and the kids are busy baking, so I usually get banished to the living room anyway. And this one took a cab last night so I didn’t have to make two trips.”

“I am a very thoughtful brother,” Dieter said.

Freddy snorted. “I consider it a Christmas miracle.”

Dieter shoved his arm and Freddy poked him back with his elbow. Yeah, they were definitely brothers.

*********************************************************************

Freddy lived just outside Burlington so it wasn’t a long drive to his house. I couldn’t help but gawk at the snow. Everything looked like a Hallmark card. 

“So we thought we’d take you guys down to Church Street this evening for the Christmas Market,” Freddy said as we turned down his street. “We went last week, but the kids don’t mind going again.” He chuckled. “Anytime they can have hot chocolate and donuts for dinner they’re happy.”

”Hot chocolate sounds amazing,” I said. “I might need an intravenous drip.”

”Don’t worry, babe, I’ll keep you warm,” Dieter said. “Bet you’re glad I bought you that coat now.”  We’d had a bit of an argument over the coat. I’d told him I didn’t need such a fancy one, since I’d only be using it for a few days, but he insisted I’d freeze without it and we compromised by agreeing I could donate it to a women’s shelter before I flew home.

“I am,” I said. “You were right … this time.”

Freddy laughed. “That’s the way, keep his ego in check.”

We pulled up outside a two story middle class house decked out with strings of Christmas lights and a large plastic Santa on the lawn. “Ignore that,” Freddy said, gesturing toward the Santa, which was a bit faded and listing to one side. “He’s been in Leila’s family for ages and the kids won’t let us get rid of it. ‘But Dad, it’s tradition!’”

”I like it,” I said. “He fits in with all the snow. And traditions are important when you’re a kid.”

Dieter and Freddy exchanged a look and I knew I’d touched a nerve. Dieter hadn’t told me a lot about his childhood, but I knew enough to know that their mom hadn’t exactly been June Cleaver. 

Freddy opened the door and we stepped into the house, which smelled like Santa’s workshop. Sugar, cinnamon, and cloves mixed with the scent of the six foot tall fir tree in the living room. My family had never had a real tree; my dad kept repairing the old artificial tree they’d bought when I was a year old and Mom and I had used it until she died, even though by that time it had shed a quarter of its needles and had to be carefully situated to hide the bald spot where one of the branches was missing. 

“Uncle Dieter!” The kids came barreling toward us and collided with Dieter. Derek was twelve and Sasha was almost fourteen. Both were wearing silly aprons with elves on them. 

“Hey, kiddos,” Dieter laughed, trying to hug both of them at the same time. “You just saw me like an hour ago.”

”We know,” Derek said. “But it’s funny.” He had the same glint in his eye that Dieter got when he had one of his “brilliant” ideas. 

“And it’s not like we could run up and hug Emily or anything,” Sasha said. She seemed a bit more reserved than her brother.

”Why not?” Dieter said. “She’s very huggable.” He demonstrated by squeezing me in his arms.

”At least let me take my coat off first,” I managed to say once I could breathe again. “And introduce me properly.”

”Kids, this is Emily,” Dieter said. “Emily, the kids.”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “I’m Sasha,” she said, holding out her hand. “And this is Derek.”

I shook their hands. “Very nice to meet you both,” I said. “Your uncle has told me all about you.”

”All we know about you is that Uncle Deet thinks you hung the moon,” Derek said. Sasha swatted at him. “That’s what Dad said,” Derek protested. 

“True, but that doesn’t mean you need to say it in front of her.” Leila came into the room, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. She was about my height and build. It seemed the Bravo brothers had a type. ”I’m Leila, by the way. And we are so happy to finally meet you.” She handed the towel to Sasha and hugged me warmly. “It’s good to see Dieter happy,” she whispered in my ear. “Thank you for that.”

”Now let’s get back to the kitchen before that batch of cookies burns,” Leila said briskly. “And let Emily get settled. We’ll have plenty of time to chat over lunch.”

Dieter carried my bags up the stairs. “We’re in the guest room,” he said. “Which is way better than the couch I used to crash on in that apartment Freddy and Leila had before he got the promotion.”

”You loved that couch,” Freddy called up the stairs. “As I recall, you even named it. Marlene, wasn’t it?”

”He’s full of shit,” Dieter said, shaking his head. “It was Maria. Because it was a problem. Like the song in ‘The Sound of Music.’”

”You are such a theater nerd.”

”I tried out for my high school production but I can’t sing to save my life,” he said. “Ended up being on the stage crew. And after that I vowed I’d never work on another play unless I was in the cast. The crew has to work too hard.”

******************************************************************

The day flew by. After I’d stashed my luggage, I joined Leila and the kids in the kitchen while Dieter and Freddy caught up in front of the TV. “I know it’s a total stereotype but that man is absolutely no use in the kitchen,” Leila told me as she handed me an apron. 

“Dieter’s not much better,” I said. “He can cook if he has to, but he’s lazy about cleaning up after himself.”

”Freddy burned water once,” Leila said. “Put a pot on to boil for pasta, forgot about it and it boiled dry. Scorched the bottom of one of my best pots.”

”Mom banned him from the kitchen after that,” Sasha added. 

I helped the kids decorate the sugar cookies and gingerbread men that had already come out of the oven while Leila finished cutting out and baking the last batch. “We’ve got time for one more kind of cookie before I have to start lunch,” she said. “Is there anything special you’d like to make, Emily? Something from your family? We already did the spritz cookies that my grandma used to make.”

”Do you have walnuts and powdered sugar? My mom always made snowballs. The cookbook calls them Russian tea cakes or Mexican wedding cakes, but her grandma called them snowballs.”

”We have that in our cookbook,” Derek said. “I saw it.” He pulled out a battered old Betty Crocker that looked a lot like the one my mom had used.

”Then snowballs it is,” Leila said. 

While we mixed up the dough, the kids asked questions about my family traditions. They were shocked when I admitted I’d never celebrated a white Christmas or had a real tree. When I told them about the year I’d gotten a sweatsuit and a bunch of nice sweaters and it ended up being 80 degrees on Christmas Day and I had to wear a t-shirt to Grandma’s house, they thought I was teasing.

“No, seriously,” I said as I rolled the dough into balls and passed them to Derek to be placed on the cookie sheets. “I wanted to wear my new clothes so bad but it was too hot. Grandma had to turn the air conditioning on because the house got so warm from roasting the turkey.”

”Well, we’ll show you how to do Christmas the New England way,” Sasha said. “We can build a snowman and go sledding and have a snowball fight.”

”But don’t let Dad and Uncle Deet play,” Derek said. “They get too competitive. Last year I got beaned right in the face and Dad just told me to walk it off.”

When the cookies were ready for the oven, Leila shooed us out of the kitchen. “I won’t let them burn,” she promised. “But I need you all out of my way while I fix some lunch.”

We joined Dieter and Freddy in the living room, where they were watching the “A Christmas Story” marathon. We all squished onto the couch together, with me sandwiched between Dieter and Sasha. 

“You smell delicious,” Dieter said. “Like butter and sugar.” He ventured a kiss on my jawbone, but I elbowed him.

”Not in front of the kids,” I hissed.

Ralphie’s dad had just received the Major Award when Leila called us to the dining room. Lunch was tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, which brought back memories of sick days on the couch watching “The Price is Right” when I was a kid. As I looked around the table, I felt a wave of homesickness. I remembered meals with my parents when I was young, when we laughed and teased each other like Freddy and his kids did. 

Dieter must have sensed my melancholy, because he reached out and squeezed my hand, his eyes concerned. I smiled at him and shook my head slightly to let him know I was okay. He winked and turned back to his soup, but slid his foot closer, tapping his shoe against my boot. He didn’t always know what to do, but he was always tuned into my moods. He claimed it was because the vibrations of our souls were compatible, and I wasn’t sure if he really believed it or was bullshitting me. Either way, it was comforting to know that he was always there for me.

***********************************

After lunch the kids insisted I go outside with them to build a snowman. 

“She’s probably tired from the flight,” Leila said, but Derek starting singing “Do You Want to Build a Snowman” from Frozen and there was no way I could turn him down.

It was still snowing very lightly and I was so bundled up in my puffy coat and a borrowed beanie and mittens that I could hardly move. My boots weren’t as waterproof as they looked and soon my feet were frozen but I gamely helped the kids roll the snow in the front yard into a ball.

”This is hard work,” I managed to say. My glasses were fogging up from my breath and I couldn’t see very well.

”That’s why we made so many cookies,” Derek said with a grin. “We burn up so many calories out here.”

”Yeah, that’s just your excuse for eating more than your share,” Sasha said. 

They started bickering and I took advantage of the momentary lull in snowman construction to rest a bit. I was out of breath and simultaneously sweating and frozen. It was wonderful.

”Merry Christmas!” A voice rang out and we turned to see a woman in a stylish ski outfit carrying a plate wrapped in foil.

Sasha groaned. “It’s Ms. Baker,” she said. “Our neighbor who mysteriously shows up every time Uncle Dieter’s visiting.”

Derek got that look in his eyes that I recognized all too well from his uncle. “Hey, Ms. Baker,” he called out. “Merry Christmas!”

”You guys making a snowman? How cute! I brought a rum cake for your parents.” She stared at me, clearly trying to figure out if she knew who I was. “Who’s your friend?”

”Oh, this is Aunt Emily, Uncle Dieter’s girlfriend,” Derek said with a cherubic smile. “They just flew in for the holiday. She’s from California and she’s never made a snowman before.”

Ms. Baker’s eyes narrowed. “Nice to meet you,” she said stiffly. “So, your uncle’s here? Good thing I made a big cake. I know how much he likes my rum cake.”

”Oh, but Uncle Dieter’s sober now,” Derek said with mock concern. “He won’t want any rum cake, will he, Aunt Emily?”

It took every fiber of my being to keep from laughing. The kid was good.

”A slice of rum cake isn’t the same as having a drink, though,” Sasha chimed in. 

“Right, Aunt Emily? I mean, Mom and Dad let me have a little sliver last year.”

”We’ll have to ask Deet,” I said, silently thanking Sasha for giving me an extra few seconds to compose myself. “But even if he can’t have any, I can,”

Ms. Baker smiled tightly. “Well, you kids get back to your snowman. I’ll just go inside now.”

As soon as she was inside the house, the kids started giggling. “That was hilarious,” Derek said. “She always shows up and tries to flirt with Deet.”

”The look on her face when we said ‘Aunt Emily,’” said Sasha. “Oh, it was okay that we did that, right? It was just to mess with her. If you don’t want us to …”

”It’s fine,” I assured her. “And did your parents really let you eat rum cake last year?”

”Yeah,” she said, making a face. “It was kind of gross. But that might be because Ms. Baker does not live up to her name.”

Derek laughed so hard he fell over. When he had recovered, we got back to work on the snowman. My feet were blocks of ice but I was happier outside with the kids than going inside and pretending to be nice to Ms. Baker.

******************************************

We finally got the snowman finished and I went inside to get my phone so we could take a picture. Ms. Baker had left in a hurry, hardly speaking to us as she passed. 

“What did you say to her?” I asked Dieter as I headed back outside.

”Who?”

”Ms. Baker.”

Dieter smiled, the same glint in his eye that I’d seen from Derek. “Oh, just mentioned I had a very special gift for you that I wanted to give you surrounded by my family.”

”You’re terrible,” I said. 

“Freddy didn’t help,” Leila chimed in. “Dropping hints about ringing in the New Year in style.”

”I hate her rum cake,” Freddy said. “Tastes like stale pound cake soaked in rubbing alcohol. Maybe if she realizes Dieter’s not interested in her she’ll stop bringing us one every year.”

”Tell the kids they have twenty minutes and then they need to get their butts inside to change,” Leila said. “We’re leaving for the Christmas Market at three so we can get decent parking.”

******************************************************

The Market was amazing, like something out of a Hallmark movie. Lights twinkled, music filled the air and shop windows glowed with charming displays. We stopped at a stall that sold hot chocolate while Freddy fetched a dozen freshly made apple cider donuts from another stall nearby. 

“Best. Dinner. Ever,” Derek declared around a mouthful of donut. 

“Worst. Manners. Ever,” Freddy said, raising an eyebrow.

Sasha and Leila were whispering to each other and stealing glances my way. Dieter was absorbed in his own donut, making those weird little noises he always made when he ate something he really liked. I looked up at the darkening sky and watched the snowflakes spiral down. 

“So …,” Leila said. “Sasha has an idea.”

”Um, I think … Emily should get an ornament for the tree,” Sasha mumbled.

”Yeah!” Derek cried. “She totally should.”

Freddy looked at Dieter, who came slowly back from wherever it was he went when he was savoring something. “What?”

”The kids think Emily should pick out an ornament for the tree,” Freddy said slowly. 

Dieter’s eyes went wide. “You sure?”

”Yeah,” said Freddy. “I think it’s a good idea.”

”What’s going on?” I asked. Everyone seemed to be extremely concerned about the idea of me buying an ornament.

”Everyone has a special ornament that they put on the tree on Christmas Eve,” Dieter said. “Freddy and Leila and Sasha and Derek … and me. I only put mine on when I’m here for Christmas. It’s kind of a family tradition.”

”And you want me to get one, too.”

”Yeah,” said Sasha, biting at her lower lip.

I looked at Dieter, who was making puppy dog eyes at me. “Okay,” I said, feeling like I was agreeing to a lot more than just choosing a bauble for the tree.

Sasha and Derek dragged me to a booth that was hung with hand blown glass ornaments in all kinds of fancy shapes. “I have a soccer ball,” Derek said. “You have to pick something that’s important to you. Deet has a rubber ducky because he says he had one when he was little.”

”Dad wouldn’t let him buy the weed one,” Sasha explained. 

I was fairly certain the rubber duck was not a fond childhood memory, because Dieter had once told me a rather off color story when he was still indulging in alcohol that I wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t true, but I didn’t think the kids needed to know that. I browsed the ornaments before settling on a sparkly orange wedge.

”An orange?” Derek asked. 

“Where I live used to be famous for growing oranges,” I told him. “The original navel orange tree is in a protected enclosure in Riverside. It’s kind of a landmark. And there’s a historical park all about citrus fruits out there, too. Plus my mom said her grandma always told her a story about how her mother got her first orange in a Christmas stocking.”

”That’s pretty cool,” said Sasha, although Derek didn’t seem to agree. I paid for the ornament and the shopkeeper carefully wrapped it in tissue and packed it into a cardboard box with a picture of a reindeer on it.

We rejoined Dieter, Freddy and Leila and continued walking down the street. Suddenly Sasha and Derek started giggling and pointed up. 

“What?,” said Dieter, looking around.

”Mistletoe!,” the kids cried out. Sure enough, there was a big bunch of mistletoe tied to the awning above us.

Dieter winked at me and slid his arms around me, dipping me slightly. “Got to give the kids what they want,” he said before kissing me very thoroughly. Finally, Freddy tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Remember, you’re in public,” he said.

Dieter laughed and although he was wearing mittens, I was pretty sure he flipped his brother the bird as he stepped back from me. “They shouldn’t hang that stuff on the street, then,” he said. “I’m just saying.”

Freddy shook his head. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

****************************************************

By the time we got back to the house, it was snowing steadily. Freddy turned on all the lights in the living room while Leila fetched a green storage container with a red lid. “Okay, time for the ornaments and stockings!,” she said.

Freddy went first, hanging his old school typewriter; then Leila hung up her panda bear. Next came Sasha’s owl and Derek’s soccer ball, followed by Dieter’s rubber duck. Finally, I unpacked my orange slice and found an unobtrusive spot around the side.

Then Leila passed out the stockings, which were bright red felt and appliquéd with snowflakes and little trees. A handwritten tag hung from the loop of each one with the owner’s name in perfect calligraphy — including one that said “Emily.”

”Oh, you didn’t have to,” I protested as I looked at my brand-new stocking. The others were well worn and had clearly seen many Christmases.

”Yes, I did,” Leila said. “How else would Santa know you’re here?” She winked and both kids rolled their eyes.

I hadn’t hung a stocking since I was ten years old, when I’d declared that stockings were for “little kids.” I felt a lump in my throat as I placed mine on the hook next to Dieter’s. 

“And now …” Freddy said, pulling out a box of matches. He carefully lit the candles on the mantel and a few others spaced around the room, then Derek flipped off the lights. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the tree lights and candles. Leila started a playlist of old-school holiday songs on the sound system and we all settled down. Freddy and Leila took the couch, the kids curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace, and Dieter pulled me into the overstuffed armchair to the side. It wasn’t quite big enough for two, so I ended up mostly in his lap.

”Are you sure?” I whispered, nodding toward the kids.

Dieter just tilted his head toward Freddy and Leila, who were snuggled up on the couch, her head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped around her. “It’s tradition,” Dieter whispered back.

We listened to Nat King Cole and Frank Sinatra for a few songs, then Freddy started telling a story about the year he was seven and Dieter was five and they found out their next door neighbors were Jewish and the kids got eight nights worth of presents instead of just one morning. Leila followed with the story of how her aunt decided she was going to make Christmas dinner instead of her mom and the turkey wasn’t cooked all the way through and everyone ended up making an excuse to leave early and they all ended up at McDonald’s.

“Tell the one about the air conditioning, Emily,” Derek said when he’d finished his own story about the year he thought he was only getting clothes because Sasha had convinced him that his letter to Santa had gotten lost on the way to the North Pole due to an elvish postal workers’ strike. “Dad didn’t hear it yet.”

Then it was Dieter’s turn. “My story is kind of boring,” he said. “It’s about my best Christmas ever and I’m not sure how it ends because it’s happening right now.” He squeezed me tightly. “I’m one hundred percent sober and I’m surrounded by all my favorite people and it’s snowing. You can’t get more perfect than that.”

”Doesn’t count,” Derek piped up. “You’re supposed to tell a funny one.”

”It just has to be memorable,” Freddy said. “And I think we’re all going to remember this one for a long time.”

”Yeah, it’s the first one with Emily,” said Sasha. 

I felt tears in my eyes for the umpteenth time that day. How was it possible that I felt more at home with these people I’d just met than I ever did with my blood relatives? “Thanks, everyone,” I managed to say. “I’ll definitely remember this Christmas for the rest of my life.”

The clock on the mantel chimed nine and Leila clapped her hands. “Okay, kiddos, time for bed. Pajamas, teeth brushed and ready for tucking in by nine thirty.”

Both kids groaned. “Mom, we’re not five anymore,” Derek said.

”I know, but I need time to play Santa’s helper before I get to bed,” Leila said, “and you know you’ll both be up at the crack of dawn begging us to let you open presents. Besides, it’s tradition.”

Dieter yawned and stretched his arms wide. “I’m kind of tired myself,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

Freddy shook his head. “Oh, get out of here. I know you just want to get out of helping.”

”I’m a guest,” Dieter said primly. “So is Emily.”

”You’re a freeloader,” replied Freddy. “But it’s Christmas. Consider it your present from me.”

Dieter wiggled out from under me and then helped me up. “Come on, let’s get upstairs before he changes his mind.”

As I unpacked my nightshirt, I remembered something. “I’ll be right back,” I said, grabbing a small box out of my luggage and trotting back downstairs. The lights were back on and Leila was already working on the stockings while Freddy was cursing in the hall closet as he pulled out presents from their hiding places.

”Here,” I told Leila, handing her the box. “I almost forgot. You can put these in the stockings. They’re handmade candy canes from a candy shop back home. They make them with real sugar and premium peppermint oil. I got a dozen, so we can each have two.” I didn’t keep up many holiday traditions anymore, but a trip to Logan’s Candy in Ontario was always on my list. Their canes were the best in the world.

”Thank you,” Leila said. “They look delicious!”

”Do you need any help?”

”No, you get back upstairs to Dieter,” she said. “Freddy and I are old hands at this. And I wasn’t joking about the kids being awake at the ass crack of dawn. You’ll be glad we all went to bed early.”

Dieter was already in bed when I got back to our room. I quickly changed into my sleep shirt and dove under the covers. Despite the heater, the house was chilly.

”Your feet are frozen!” Dieter gasped, pulling away from me.

I snuggled closer. “So help me warm them up,” I said. The man was like my own private furnace, which was good at times like this. In the summer, not so much. I tucked my feet between his calves and he pretended to shiver.

”Blocks of ice,” he muttered. “You’re so mean to me.” 

“Then why are you kissing my neck?”

”Because you still smell like cookies,” he said. “And I haven’t seen you in ages.” His hands worked their way underneath my sleep shirt.

”Whoa, hold on,” I said. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s Christmas Eve. And the kids are right down the hall.”

Dieter snorted. “First of all, you aren’t any more religious than I am. And second of all, I’m sure Freddy and Leila do it all the time with the kids in the house.”

”Still, it feels sacrilegious.”

”It feels naughty,” Dieter corrected me. “And I don’t know about you, but the idea of Santa Claus watching us is kind of turning me on.”

”Eww!” 

“He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake, he knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness’ sake,” Dieter crooned off key, followed by a trail of kisses down my throat. “Be good for me, baby. Let me unwrap this gift a little early.”

”Well, you have been a good boy lately,” I said. “Just try to be quiet for once.”

”So you want a silent night?”

”Shut up and kiss me, Dieter.”

**************************************************************

It was still dark when our bedroom door flew open and something large crashed onto our feet. “Merry Christmas!” Derek cried. 

“You are so rude,” Sasha said from the doorway. “Get off them.” We all sat up, blinking at the overhead light that Sasha had flicked on. “What if they were naked?”

“Why would they be naked … ohhh!” Derek scrambled off the bed. “Gross! They’re Mom and Dad’s age.”

”Mom and Dad still do it,” Sasha said. 

Derek made gagging noises. “That is not the image I want in my head on Christmas morning, Sash.”

”Okay, okay, we’re all up,” Freddy yawned from the hallway. “Give us a minute to use the facilities and we’ll go downstairs.”

”Yay!” Derek dashed out of the room while Sasha shook her head. 

“Sorry about him,” she said. “He’s such a little kid sometimes.”

Freddy tousled her hair. “O wise and solemn adult, why don’t you put a robe on over your Hello Kitty pajamas so you don’t freeze?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a dad.”

Dieter was already shrugging into his beloved green bathrobe, which was starting to get bald in spots, but which he refused to replace because it was comfortable. “Yeah, Freddy, don’t be such a dad.”

”You stop talking, or you won’t get any pancakes,” Freddy said.

Dieter mimed zipping his lips and tossed my robe at me. 

After a quick trip to the bathroom and a cursory brushing of teeth, we all trooped down to the living room, where a pile of presents had appeared underneath the tree and our stockings were bulging with treats. 

“You really didn’t have to,” I told Leila as she handed me my stocking.

”And have you sit there without anything while we all dive in? No way.”

My candy canes were at the top, but underneath were chocolates, a tube of hand cream, a glass nail file, and a few other trinkets. “Just some fun girl stuff,” Leila explained. “Sasha’s a bit too old for toys but every woman enjoys a mini spa day.”

“Presents!” Derek said after he’d dumped out the contents of his stocking. “Time for presents!”

I curled up on the couch next to Dieter while the kids tore into their gifts. Dieter had had his shipped straight to the house for Freddy and Leila to wrap, so he was as excited to see them as the kids were.

”No way!” Derek cried as he unwrapped a massive Lego set of the Millenium Falcon. “Thank you, Uncle Deet!”

Sasha squealed as she opened a brand new iPad mini. “This is exactly the one I wanted. Thanks, Uncle Deet!”

Dieter was grinning from ear to ear as both kids danced around. 

“You’re spoiling them,” Freddy said.

”I’m their rich uncle. I’m allowed.”

After the kids finished opening their presents, we all got dressed and Leila made pancakes for breakfast. Mountains of pancakes with real maple syrup. Dieter and Freddy got into a pancake eating contest that ended only when Dieter was forced to concede because Derek had taken the last one and Leila refused to make any more.

“I need to get the turkey in the slow cooker if we want to have dinner tonight,” she said when Dieter tried to wheedle just one more pancake out of her.

”I bet if Freddy needed one more pancake to win you’d make it,” Dieter whined.

”No, she wouldn’t,” Freddy said, carefully cutting up his final — winning — pancake. “But tell you what, since you are my brother and it’s Christmas … you can have half and we’ll call it a tie.” He counted the pieces on his plate and slid exactly half of them onto Dieter’s plate.

”And the winners get to do the dishes!” Leila said as soon as their plates were clean. Both men groaned, but cleared the table with a minimum of grumbling.

”What can I do to help?” I asked. 

“Nothing,” replied Leila. “Which is what I’m going to be doing as soon as I get that bird in the roaster.”

”Help me with my Lego,” Derek said.

”No, help me set up my iPad,” Sasha offered.

”How about if she supervises you both until we get done in the kitchen,” Freddy said. “I want to work on that Lego, too.”

”Me three!” Dieter chimed in.

Soon we were all back in the living room, the boys on the floor sorting Lego pieces and arguing over whether they really needed the directions or not. Leila helped Sasha set up her Apple account, and then we started browsing the App Store. It was cozy, with the tree lights blinking and the scent of maple syrup still lingering in the air. 

“Thank you,” I said to Leila.

”For what?”

”For including me. I know it has to be weird having a stranger in your house at Christmas.”  

“You aren’t any stranger than Dieter,” she quipped. “Seriously, though, you are very, very welcome. Freddy’s told me how different Dieter has been since he met you, and we’re so happy about it. They were pretty close when they were little but things got strained there for a while, especially after their parents divorced. Dieter felt like they had to choose sides and he couldn't understand why Freddy was still talking to their dad. Then when their mom died … Dieter kind of closed himself off from everyone. It’s good to see him connecting again.”

”That’s not just me,” I said. “He’s been on that path for a while, ever since he started rehab the first time.”

”But you’re a big part of it,” Leila insisted. “Freddy said there was a big change after you and Deet started dating. You’re good for him. And I think he’s good for you.”

Dieter looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Are you talking about me?”

”Of course,” Leila said. “Everyone everywhere is always talking about you, Dieter. You’re a celebrity. The world revolves around you. Geez, get over yourself.” She rolled her eyes and when Dieter had turned back to the Lego, we both giggled like kids. 

**************************************************

”I don’t know about this.”

Sasha and Derek had talked me into going to the sledding hill with them that afternoon. Now we stood at the top of a very steep incline with our plastic disks and I watched kids wiping out right and left.

”You’re fine,” Derek said. “It doesn’t hurt when you fall off, anyway.”

”Maybe not if you’re young and bendy,” I said. “But I’m old and stiff.”

”Mr. Gruenberg still sleds,” Sasha said, pointing out an older man with a neatly trimmed white beard who was whooping as loudly as his grandkids were.

”I bet he’s been doing it all his life,” I replied. “I’m from California. I went sledding once, on the side of the road when I was seven and it wasn’t nearly this long or this steep.”

”If you’re gonna be part of this family, you have to learn snow sports,” Derek said. “Sledding is the first one. Next time we’ll get you on skis.”

Sasha shrugged. “You kind of have to learn how to ski and snowshoe and stuff when you live in Vermont,” she said. “Otherwise you’d be stuck indoors half the year.”

I was still stuck on Derek’s offhand remark about being part of the family. I knew that being invited to spend the holidays with someone’s family was a huge step in a relationship, and people would make a lot of assumptions, but it fully hit me at that moment that these kids might just become my niece and nephew someday. That Freddy and Leila could be my brother and sister. For an only child, it was both a dream come true and the weirdest feeling imaginable. 

“Okay, you convinced me,” I said, trying to get my brain back to the present. “So what do I do?”

Derek demonstrated, hopping onto his sled and sliding down the slope with a wild yell. 

“Ready?” Sasha asked. “On the count of three. One … two … three!” She and I jumped onto our sleds and hurtled down the hill. It was disorienting and bumpy and scary and out of control. I loved it.

*************************************************************************

As we were putting our luggage into the back of the Cherokee the next morning, I pulled Freddy aside. “Thank you so much,” I told him. 

“For what?”

”For making me feel like part of the family. I know it must be weird to have your brother bring some strange woman home.”

Freddy held up his hand. “First of all, we should be thanking you for making Deet happy. He’s an asshole sometimes, but he’s my asshole and I love him. And second of all, you are part of the family. Dieter loves you and so do the rest of us. Look, I know Deet’s probably told you I cautioned him not to rush into anything, to take his time with this but … I might have been wrong. Maybe he does know a good thing when he sees it. Maybe his instincts were right. Or maybe he’s an idiot and he just got lucky.” He winked and hugged me. “Take care of him, okay?” 

“I will.”

”You okay?” Dieter asked when he helped me into the car. I might have been sniffling a little.

”Yeah, I’m just … gonna miss them.”

”Me, too,” he said, kissing my forehead. “They’re good people.”

”They’re your people, so of course they are.”

*****************************

Toronto was nothing like Vermont. For one thing, Dieter was back on set at 7:00 am the morning of the 27th and working ten to twelve hour days to make up for the lost time over the holidays. I didn’t see much of him except at night, but it was okay. We were together and I got to see what his life was really like for the first time. 

I spend my days reading or shopping or watching movies on Netflix. Not too much different from how I normally spent Winter Break at home, except for having Dieter next to me every night. 

“Now I know why you always looked so tired when you FaceTimed me,” I told him one evening after dinner. He’d been on set for eight hours already and had to go back for a couple more hours of night shoots on location. 

“Yeah, they’re really pushing us on this one,” he said, rubbing his hand across his face. “The studio wants it in on time and under budget and because of the holidays the director is super stressed out. But he did promise we’ll be done by nine on New Year’s Eve and get all of New Year’s Day off.”

Our hotel was holding a New Year’s Eve party in the ballroom but neither of us was really in the mood when the day rolled around. Dieter was tired and didn’t want to be around all the champagne, while I was lonely and just wanted to spend some time alone with him. So at the last minute we kicked off our shoes and ordered a bottle of sparkling cider sent to our room, along with an assortment of hors d’ouerves, for our own private party.

Our balcony faced the harbor, so we’d have a good view of the city’s fireworks display. It was bitterly cold out there, though, so we stayed inside until just before midnight. It was cozy on the little couch and it was tempting to just ignore the festivities and make some sparks of our own.

”No,” Dieter said. “We have to watch the fireworks. I love fireworks. Besides, this is our very first New Year together. We have to do it right. Make a toast. Kiss at the stroke of midnight.”

So at 11:55 we braved the cold, taking our glasses of cider out onto the balcony with us. We had the TV turned up so we could hear the official countdown. Ten. Dieter leaned against the balcony rail, a gentle smile on his face. Nine. He raised his glass. “To us.” Eight. I clinked the rim of my glass against his. Seven. “To us.” Six. We took a sip. Five. He turned around to face the harbor. Four. I leaned against the railing next to him. Three. He laid his hand against my cheek. Two. I tilted my face up toward him. One. He kissed me. “Happy New Year,” he whispered.

I looked out at the fireworks bursting across the sky. Dieter had his arm around me and I felt warm despite the Canadian winter night. We could hear the cheers and noisemakers from the party downstairs but I knew there was nowhere else in the world I’d rather be at that moment than next to Dieter, toasting the year we’d had and all the years to come.

”Can I ask you something?” I said.

”Of course,” he said, laying his cheek against the top of my head.

”Will you marry me?”

#late night talking #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter x Emily #the bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #fluff pure and simple #holiday themed

[watercolourcritters]

but first they must catch you - acrylic and permanent marker on denim jacket

[ID: two photos, both of a denim jacket that has been painted. The first shows the back of the jacket, showing it has been painted in 3 panels; in the center a running jackrabbit with the phrase “First they must catch you”, on the left a desert at sunset with a cactus and a jackrabbit skull, on the right a sunny desert in bloom. The second image is a stylistic shot of the jacket hanging over a chair with potted plants in the background. End ID.]

It’s finished!! Many thanks to lindseyhooverphoto over on IG for the second shot!

This jacket is for sale! Info below the cut for those interested.

Please shoot me a dm if you’re interested in purchasing this jacket. Asking $150 CAD + shipping from Ontario ($150 CAD = about $115 USD), payment through paypal (or e-transfer for Canadians). The jacket is a used Roxy women’s large, this is a recycled/reused jacket. Dimensions (laid flat) are: 18″ across at the waist and hip, 22″ long, sleeves 26″ from shoulder to hem. Photos of me wearing it from the back and the front of the jacket are below.

[ID: a photo of a white non-binary person with short hair wearing the jacket described above. They are photographed from the back, showing off the painted panels. End ID.] Photo courtesy of lindseyhooverphoto.

This jacket is a bit too long for me, someone with a longer torso shouldn’t have quite the same bunching of the back panel.

And here’s the front - it does have proper pockets, hidden in the outermost panel.

[ID: a photo of the jacket laid out showing its front. It has buttons instead of a zipper, two buttoned breast pockets, and lined vertical panels along the torso. End ID.]

#art #watership down #jackrabbit #acrylic painting #fashion #painting #accessible art #clothing #misc #art for sale #watercolour critters art

[love-menzone]

Barbershop in Ontario

Barbering is the most fulfilling position; hairdressers offer young fellows a deep satisfaction and certainty they might not have had beforehand. Because people feel free to talk about whatever is on their minds and the problems that affect their communities, it is regarded as a sanctuary in many places. It is not a little that can be well-read fast. Every man wants to find a barber who knows much about his trade. Each client's shaving, grooming, and styling must be done according to their requirements. You must complete a few training programs to become a certified barber, with the possibility of combining cosmetology and barbering instruction in some areas. The mood is upbeat at barbershops, and there is frequently a feeling of brotherly affection. If you have any doubts, please check the site info on Menzone.ca.

Is It Possible To Approach An Accredited Hairdresser And Get A Majestic Look?

Variety of services:

It strives to exceed customers' expectations by offering various services. For instance, a hair colourist can assist clients in achieving their ideal style and provide numerous benefits. A barbershop in Ontario is a one-stop solution for achieving mental tranquillity. About hairstyles, you want a specialist to give you the best arrangement. Experts at the salon tailor haircuts to your preferences. For instance, a hair-interlacing subject matter expert has long stretches of preparation and experience. Various methods and procedures are used to keep your hair healthy. Many hair salons offer in-service training courses to keep their staff members updated on current practices and standards.

Why men regularly get a haircut?

Men are not as mindful of how they look as ladies are. But many men, like women, understand how important it is to always look your best, especially if you want to make a good first impression. For men, getting haircuts regularly is a part of looking good. You might be asking why this is fundamental. This is explained in detail by the following significant points. With everyday hairstyles, you get to know which best mens haircut suits you.

For more information about barbershop in Ontario, best mens haircut, Fades Barbershop, best hair cutting salon in Mississauga, best hair cutting salon in Oakville, please visit the - Menzone.

Reference taken from here.

#barbershop in Ontario #best mens haircut #Fades Barbershop #best hair cutting salon in Mississauga #best hair cutting salon in Oakville

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

episode 0 - a prologue

It’s a beautiful, sunny summer morning in Muskoka, Ontario. TV host Chris McLean is looking spiff and spim, dressed in his usual “too cool to care” casual look, tiny bag full of baby teeth around his neck, smile bright and blinding as he steps out in front of the camera crew for the first time that season. 

“Yo, we're coming at you live from Camp Wawanakwa somewhere in Muskoka, Ontario. I'm your host, Chris McLean, dropping season eight of the hottest reality show on television right now!

Here's the dealio: Twenty-two teens have signed up to spend eight weeks right here at this crappy summer camp, where they'll compete in challenges against each other then have to face the judgment of their fellow campers. After every challenge, one team will either survive another day or watch one of their team members walk down the Dock of Shame, take a ride on the loser boat, and leave Total Takes Island for good.

Their fate will be decided at the dramatic campfire ceremonies where each week, all but one camper will receive one marshmallow. In the end, only one will be left standing- and will be rewarded with cheesy tabloid fame and a small fortune, which, let's face it, they'll probably blow in a week. To survive, they'll have to battle black flies, grizzly bears, disgusting camp food...

 ...and each other.  Every moment will be caught on one of the hundreds of cameras situated all over the camp. Who will crumble under the pressure? Find out right here, right now, on Total... Takes... Island!"

Chris takes a deep breath as the director calls “CUT” and everyone moves their equipment to the docks in a flurry of production assistants and cords. Chris stands by, sipping on his low-fat white chocolate mocha and tapping his foot until he’s called up to his place. 

Just as rehearsed, he smiles, waits for the director’s signal, and then spots a gleaming white boat off in the distance just as the cameras begin rolling. 

“How about we meet our campers, huh?”

The boat arrives in mere seconds and the ramp rolls down for the first time of many, giving way to a short, brunet man who’s likely a little too excited for his own good. 

“Peter, my man, what’s up?”

Peter drops his bags, still onboard, and then bounds down the ramp to give Chris a spine-chilling hug. 

“This is so sweet, I’m on Total Drama Island! Nyehehehe,” he says before looking directly into the camera, finally releasing Chris. “Shoutout to the gang back home in Quahog! Joe, Cl-”

Chris cuts in before he can divert the segment any further- they have a schedule to keep, after all. “Great! Here’s Sha-Mod!”

The next contestant off is a gentleman wearing a gray hoodie, and, strangely, a large printed out photo of former contestant Lightning over his face. Chris blinks- it’s certainly not the strangest thing he’s ever seen, but it’s definitely new. “Hey, man, what’s with the face?”

Sha-Mod shakes his head. “As if I'd let a bunch of randos see my real face,” and with that, he picks up his bags and walks away. Chris stares in bewilderment for a moment before the next contestants arrive. 

“Alrighty, then. Next up we have a classic three-parter: Joner, McLovin, and Michael!”

The boat speeds away as the next three approach. McLovin- a too-tall too-skinny nerdlet with glasses that hang at the tip of his nose- is holding one of Joner’s- a too-short too-fat teenage boy lite- hands, while Michael- an average-sized green haired girl in a parka- holds his other. 

Chris stifles a laugh. “What’s with the, uh…” he gestures to the hands. 

Michael starts: “He-”

McLovin makes sure to butt in, very matter-of-factly. “He’s scared of boats,”

A brief flash of annoyance crosses Michael’s face. “Yeah, that,”

“My buddies are just looking out for me, and besides, nothing wrong with best friends holding hands!” Joner pipes in happily, beaming. Chris chuckles. 

“Great. I see not a single way this friendship could possibly go awry!” he says. “Next up, Fren!”

The boat comes by with a mysterious figure on board. Everyone stares in awe as Fren, a steampunk-esque quirked up white boy with pink hair stands aboard. The boat stops and he steps off and gives a formal bow. “Nice to make your acquaintances,”

Chris chuckles yet again. “Formal. Nice,”

Fren offers a hand to Chris for him to shake, which he accepts with a grin. He sighs happily as Fren walks away- what a great season this is going to be. 

“Next- Julia!”

Julia beams at the slowly-growing group as the boat disappears once again. She adjusts her glasses and tightens her ponytail before smiling professionally at the group. 

“I also go by Jules, if you'd prefer,”

No one verbally responds, though Joner waves. 

Chris smiles. “Good for you. Austin!”

Julia's calm, confident entrance is immediately crushed by a wave of groovy tunes and good vibes. A tall, bespectacled swinger is standing at the very edge of the boat, arms out Titanic-style. He grins, showing off his extremely British teeth, and shouts loud enough for the rats on land to hear. 

“Right groovy baby yeah!!”

Before the boat can dock, Austin dives off it and plops into the water below. After a few seconds, he resurfaces and scales the docks, approaching the crowd whilst dripping wet. He flashes a smile at the ladies and swipes seaweed off his shoulder. 

“Lovely birds out today, yeah?”

Julia and Michael both give him a strange look and then glance at each other with the same mystified expression

“Psychedelic, man,” Chris says. “Courtney, everyone!”

Courtney is the picture of grace as they step off the boat, the sun reflecting off their many piercings and highlighting their pink hair. They're clearly trying to make a good impression as they grin and waves. 

“Happy to be here! It's nice to meet everyone,”

Everyone gives a half-enthused wave except for Austin, who smiles widely and waves excitedly. 

“And give a warm welcome to Patrick!”

Contrasting Courtney’s warmth, Patrick walks rigidly down the docks, listening to something over his headphones with a deadened expression. 

Courtney puts on a smile and attempts to approach, much to everyone else’s dismay. “Hi, it’s nice to-”

In a single shove, Patrick moves Courtney out of his way and continues on his stiff path to the edge of the docks, where he proceeds to brood in silence. 

“Jeez, what’s his deal?” Joner scoffs. 

McLovin nudges his friend with his elbow. “Dare you to hug him,”

“No way! Make Michael do it!”

“As if!”

Michael groans and turns to her other side as McLovin and Joner bicker. 

Julia winces on her behalf. “Do you know those guys?”

She sighs and gives an apologetic smile. “Friends from back home,”

“Ah, I see…”

The boat returns, though this time, there’s a definite spooky, dark, looming energy emanating from it. Chris grins wickedly. 

“Scary and Frollo, glad to see you,”

First off is Scary, who cartwheels down the ramp and lands perfectly next to Patrick. He ignores her. Frollo steps off the boat next, clutching a Bible, and joins the crowd. though, when he notices he's standing too close to the women he takes a step away.

“Kitty!”

Kitty has the exact opposite energy as they bound off the boat on all fours and then somersault into the water, disappearing into the ocean.

“Mal!”

Mal steps off with her head held high, clutching her phone closely. She's not a spectacle, but she emanates a certain intimidating energy, Courtney's eyes widen and they suddenly seem very nervous.

“Hello, Chris,” Mal smiles. “Great day, huh?”

“Nice to see you,” Chris grins back. “But, we do have a no-phones policy, so... Chef!”

Chef walks onto the dock and skewers Mal's phone with a spear, then dumps its sparking body in the water. She reacts with a small smile, though her left eye twitches.

“No biggie! Just happy to be here,” she walks off and stands besides Courtney, giving them a small, slightly sinister smile that quickly disappears when Julia looks over. Courtney shudders. 

“Bonnie, welcome aboard!”

Bonnie steps off the ramp, looking thoroughly unimpressed. They set down their bags and walk over to Chris. “I was told we'd have wifi?”

Chris chuckles. “Oh, yeah. We lied about that,”

Bonnie grumbles and then steps away, standing beside Mal and Courtney.

“You know what I do when I'm having internet withdrawals? I take deep breaths and count to ten,” Mal says, still smiling. Her voice is soft and calm, though there’s something unsettling about it. Bonnie frowns. 

“Sure. Thanks,”

“Scruffy, our local Total Drama historian!”

Scruffy jumps straight off the boat, clutching a disposable camera and a notepad. “Glad to be here, man! my master thesis is gonna be concrete after this season, I'll tell ya,”

“If you survive it!”

“What?”

“Huh? Oh, here's Ass!”

Ass steps off-board, looking not quite happy but not quite upset, either.

“Welcome to-”

Ass holds a finger up to chris, silencing him with their sheer power alone, and then stands near Patrick and Scary at the end of the dock

Chris shudders. “Yeesh. Max!”

Max follows, looking over the crowd of people already collecting on the docks. He’s dressed like he wants to get booted first, in a prep school uniform- tie and all. 

He sighs. “Not impressed,”

“That makes two of us, buddy. Alex!”

A fairly good-looking brunett with sharply cut bangs steps off the boat and frowns deeply, their eyes darkening. “Um, actually, I sent your legal department an invoice, I use Staci, thank you very much,”

“Oh, we got it, it's just that we already had a Staci-”

“Yeah, that's the point,” they roll their eyes.

Staci walks over to the crowd and stands between Austin and Julia.

They give the both of them an angry glance and then look back dead-ahead. “It’s Staci,”

Austin and Julia look at each other nervously and then nod. 

“O and Kelly!”

Kelly and O step off, also holding hands. Kelly, though the same age as everyone else, has a certain milf-y energy about them. O looks ill but is smiling anyway. The two are talking amongst themselves as they step down the ramp. 

“And just remember, next time you're feeling seasick, just let me know,”

“Thank you, Kelly,”

Chris chuckles. “How sweet. And finally-”

Chris is suddenly interrupted by the sound of a helicopter landing. Everyone covers their ears and ducks down to avoid the winds, except for Austin, who is blown straight back into the water by the air current.

The helicopter stops and someone steps off- an impeccably dressed television icon in purple, who just about everyone recognizes.

He grins. “I hope I'm not late,”

Chris’ eyes narrow and he sighs before responding in a low grumble. “Just in time, Caesar,”

“And I'm sure you got my memo?”

“Affirmative,”

“Lovely. Then I'm glad to be here,”

He turns straight to the camera. “This is Caesar Flickerman, reporting live from Wawanakwa! May the odds be ever in my favor, amirite?!”

No one responds. Chris seethes a little before collecting himself. “Right! anyway, group photo, anyone? for memory's sake?”

Everyone grumbles in dismay, but shuffles to the end of the dock as Chris takes the picture from the shore.

“Ready? one- two- three- say "Wawanakwa!"”

Before the contestants can respond, the helicopter suddenly takes off, blowing everyone into the water. Chris laughs.

---

Chris has everyone gathered around the campfire now, either standing, sitting on the slightly-burnt grass, or seated on one of the few logs placed around the pit. 

“This is camp Wawanakwa, your home for the next two months. The idle teens beside you will be your teammates, your competitors, and maybe even your friends, but more importantly, the camper who remains throughout the competition will win one million dollars!”

A happy murmur rumbles through the crowd. 

“You'll be living alongside each other in the team cabins- one side for girls and such, one side for boys and such. Here's the deal: if I call your name, I want you to stand over here, behind me,”

“Austin,”

“Frollo,”

“Jooooner,”

“Julia,”

“Kellllly!”

“Max,”

“Michael,”

“O,”

“Scary,”

“Scruffy,”

“And Staci! You are the Inane Anons!”

Joner frowns as he looks at McLovin on the other side of the fire pit. “Ah, crap. sorry, man,”

“No, it's ok. I'll take my loss like a man,” McLovin steps away from Joner and Michael and tears up. Courtney pats his back reassuringly, and gives a concerned look to the rest of the team. 

“The rest of you are the Flying Fujoshis!”

Fren grins. “Cool,”

“You and your team will be on camera in all public areas during your time here- you'll also be able to hold confessionals in the outhouse to get whatever's on your mind out to the world!”

xxx

Bonnie crosses their arms and frowns. “Yeah, this is terrible. But I might as well make the best of it while I can. There's bound to be some terrible, mind-numbingly awful drama here, so... at least I won't be bored,”

---

Peter is grinning, so close to the camera you can barely see his face. “This is sweet!!”

---

Patrick simply sits and stares into the camera. 

---

Chris grins. “Any questions?” Everyone raises their hand. “No? great! your cabins are right up ahead.”

---

Patrick frowns as he enters, slinging a long duffel bag over his shoulder as he studies the cabin. “This is terrible,”

“I don't know, it's kind of giving... cute, campy, even!” Caesar chuckles, dusting the dirt off the bunk-bed blankets. The two turn to Sha-Mod as he begins walking back outside. 

“I think I just saw a rat giving birth under one of the beds,”

Peter awwwws as Patrick and Caesar look at each other nervously. 

---

Scary walks in and immediately crawls under one of the beds on all fours. 

Julia raises an eyebrow but says nothing, and walks over to the other bed, setting down her things. Michael is on the bunk above

“You might want to take a top bunk, man. I'm pretty sure I saw a possum laying eggs under this one,”

Julia’s face flushes white and she picks her bags right back up. “Noted!” she says as she moves to the bunk across the room. 

Kelly enters and grins, lugging several heavy designer suitcases behind her and panting. “Say.. could I... ask you girls for a little... Help over here?”

Julia scoffs, earning a frown from Kelly, but Michael shrugs and slides off the top bunk, going around to the other end of the large suitcase and hefting it up with a wheeze.

“Jesus, this is heavy, what's in here? Bricks?”

Kelly chuckles. “Portable tanning bed. Never leave home without it!”

Michael blinks. “Right,”

“Where exactly do you think you're gonna fit all that junk?” Julia asks, crossing her arms. Kelly thinks for a moment, surveying the cramped cabin with a frown before turning back to the girls with an apologetic smile. 

“Anyone not using their bed?”

Chris’ voice suddenly blares over the loudspeakers. 

“Attention, campers! Put on your swimsuits and meet me at the top of the big old cliff across the island in ten minutes for your first challenge!”

#total takes island #tti #praying this is readable

[kenneth-omega]

The Fear of Falling in Love

// Part 1 // Part 2 //

A Kenny Omega Short Fic

**EDITED 27/08/22**

Pairing: Kenny Omega x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a family friend of The Young Bucks who, like Matt and Nick, also became obsessed with wrestling from a young age. During Kenny’s absence from screen you were sourced into AEW by the Bucks and brought into the Undisputed Elite faction. Following the recent fall out between Adam Cole/reDragon and the Bucks over the upcoming Trios tournament you finally get to meet the great Kenny Omega. You eventually become locked into a storyline that starts out fun and harmless but soon turns sour at the prospect of real feelings being hurt and relationships tarnished.

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO A TAGLIST IN FUTURE PARTS WHEN THEY’RE POSTED PLEASE LMK

Warnings: swearing (there will be more warnings to come in future parts), pure panting over kenny fuckin’ omega tbh

Word count: 1.9K

A/N: In honour of our wrestling lord and saviour ✨Kenneth Omega✨ returning to our screens this week on Dynamite I’ve decided to pull my dusty forgotten ass out of the shadows and write for him.

This short fic will have 5 parts in total!! (In this fic I am pre-empting what I think is gonna happen during the Trios Tournament and some things ((such as certain wrestlers currently off injured)) aren’t accurate to the current events, so please be gentle with me! 😊 Just think of this as an AU if it helps.)  Also, reader’s wrestling name is Cori but is called Y/N when not being referred to as Cori. There will be some personal names used but I’ll add these for each chapter where relevant like I have done below!

For Reference:

“All Ego” Ethan Page is Julian

Cori “The Alpha” Dacre is Y/N

You were excited to meet him. Understandably.

Despite your constant friendship with Matt and Nick which had remained alive for the many years since you’d moved to Canada as a teenager, you had never had the time nor the need to meet their current ring buddy and long-time pal Kenny Omega.

When you got the call back in December of last year from Matt asking if you’d want to sign with their own company All Elite Wrestling you had no idea just how ingrained into the company and their little faction you would become. Following your leave from the indie promotion you’d been wrestling for in Ontario, you hopped onto the first available flight down to Texas where their Wednesday night show Dynamite was being taped.

Matt had organised you a hotel for the night, with Nick arranging for you to meet the CEO Tony Khan.

“We’re not gonna throw you into a match, honestly, this is just a taster for you to come down, check out what we’re about and speak to Tony. Who’s a really great guy when you eventually get to meet him.” Matt reassured you down the phone the evening before.

Even though AEW was co-created by your friends, you were still extremely nervous. This would be the biggest company you had worked for, should everything go smoothly.

You hadn’t had much time to dwell on the details and the complications of coming back to the US to wrestle, having made most your career in the promotions back in Canada you were truly an indie darling.

“Which is why the fans are gonna love you even more.” Nick had patted you on the back encouragingly as you walked backstage at the show, heading towards a skinny, curly-haired man with a large headset on and a tablet in his hand.

From there on you’d shook hands, made small talk and watched the show beside Tony Khan and the Bucks. At the end of the show Tony had extended to you an offer of employment with AEW after seeing your interest.

From then on you’d started out with a couple of test matches on AEW Dark which had gained you decent praise and reactions from fans. With Tony satisfied in your capabilities and your talent, he gave the green light to get you straight onto Dynamite. Your debut came on the first Dynamite of the new year, where you cut yourself a sweet and short promo calling out Jade Cargill following her win over Ruby Soho.

There you introduced yourself under your new persona, having decided to shed the indie nickname from back home.

“And just who the hell do you think you are to come at that bitch on my show?” Jade sneered down the mic, her retained title belt proudly slung over her shoulder.

With a roll of your eyes and a determined grin, you spoke clearly into your own mic. “I’m Cori Dacre. The Alpha of the women’s division and soon to be the new TBS Champion.”

---------

“Cori! Hello?!” A hand waves in your face impatiently. Snapping from your stupor you gaze up to see who had rudely pulled you out from your daydreams. It was Ethan, holding his plate of breakfast from the hotel’s self-catering buffet.

“Hello Julian.” You chide as he takes a seat beside you. Your own plate didn’t look as appetising as his, with a bland portion of porridge and some pieces of jam covered toast.

“Wow, who pissed in your coffee this morning? You hardly ever call me that unless your upset, angry or just trying to wind me up.” Ethan counts on his fingers as he reels off the list, looking at you with an eyebrow raised in silent question.

“No one, I’m just...nervous.” You grumble, poking the wobbly gruel with your spoon and scrunching your nose up in disgust. It had practically solidified at this point and was past salvageable, you sigh and pick up one of the slices of toast instead.

“Remind me to note nervous down on the list for future reference,” Ethan jokes, catching a deathly glare from you. “...So who’s making you nervous? Want me to go beat ‘em up?” He offers, although he seems far too absorbed in his breakfast to be of any use for beating up people.

You shake your head, partially in response to him and partially due to the fact that the cold piece of toast was scratchy and tough going down your throat.

“Who said it was someone making me nervous?” You scoff, getting up from the table with your plate and heading back to the buffet, ditching the half-attempted breakfast for favour of a clean plate.

Scanning the different trays and pots of hot food you settle on some scrambled eggs, beans and another coffee.

“Are you seriously gonna try and lie to me Y/N?” Ethan’s voice echoes right beside you, causing you to fumble with your plate that you have balanced on one hand as you try to pour your coffee with the other.

“Fuck!” You hiss, keeping the plate steady and giving Ethan a look that could kill. “How about next time you wait for me to come back to the table instead of scaring the soul out of my body whilst I’m handling hot things!” You shove the plate in front of his face in a furious gesture.

Ethan grins and takes the plate from you, taking it back to the table as you grip onto your newly poured coffee like Gollum.

“I could have, but you would have just tried to move on from the subject and try distract me with new toys or something else equally as interesting. Besides, you know I’m always here for you, whether it’s back in good ol’ Canada or here in AEW. If someone’s bugging you then you can tell me.” He offers a gentle hand on your arm as he sets your plate down, before taking his seat and continuing with his own plate.

You slump into your chair and cast a steady eye around the room, mindful of the other talent that were here. Many were just minding their own business and no one seemed the least bit interested in you right now.

“I'm...meeting Kenny Omega today.” You mutter, waiting for Ethan’s response.

He raises his eyebrows as he chews on a mouthful and ponders your statement for a few seconds.

“You’ve not met Kenny before? I would’ve thought that being from Canada and what with you and the Bucks it’d have happened already.”

You shake your head, just as surprised yourself that it hadn't happened either.

“You know how much I’ve enjoyed this year right? The whole storyline with the Undisputed Elite has been great fun and me being recruited into the faction by Matt and Nick has given me such an amazing boost. But...what if Kenny hates me? What if I don’t fit into the Elite with him coming back and he wants me out?”

Ethan nods slowly as you begin to spiral into a tirade of self-doubting questions that you had yet to ask aloud to anyone. You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak to the Bucks about this.

“Are you sure you’re not just nervous about being around him? I know you’ve never met the guy but you’ve always spoke very admirably about him...as a wrestler, obviously.” Ethan adds the last part when he notices the narrow-eyed stare being cast his way.

“Obviously.” You repeat, not wanting to entertain the thought of your nerves being related to anything else other than professional. “Of course I’m nervous about that but-”

Ethan slaps your shoulder with the back of his hand repeatedly, his attention firmly focused on something to your right and no longer on the conversation. You follow his gaze and feel your heart soar with adrenaline and fear when you spot who is walking towards you.

A mess of brown and highlighted curls frame a rugged, unshaven face, with steely, blue eyes boring a hole into yours. You would never admit it to a single soul, but Kenny Omega was an extremely attractive man. An extremely attractive man who was also walking straight towards you.

Before he reached the two of you, you felt Ethan nudge your leg with his knee beneath the table and his muttering comment of “Be calm, he’s just a human, he’s gonna love you.”

Not wanting to seem like a deer caught in the headlights you match Kenny’s smile with a welcoming one of your own. When he reaches your table, you actually notice that Matt and Nick had entered the room with him, but the two of them had decided to bypass you completely and head straight for the food. You catch Nick’s watchful eye as they pass, him trying to subtly observe the two of you interact for the first time.

Bastards.

“Sorry to interrupt your morning, I just wanted to stop and say hi.” Kenny admits to you and Ethan, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two of you. His voice is inviting and warm, a lot deeper than you’d expected, despite having watched countless numbers of his promos. You look over to Ethan who appears extremely interested in his food at the moment, leaving you the only person to talk.

Bastards, the lot of them.

“Oh! Um, hi. I’m Cori.” You extend a hand out to him politely, praying that it doesn’t feel clammy or too warm when he goes to take it. Maybe it’s because the hotel’s carpeted and it’s just a static shock, but when Kenny grips your hand in his you could’ve sworn that you felt a crackle of electricity pass between you both.

His hand feels large in yours and the rough skin on the pads of his fingers matches your own, a tell-tale sign that he’s recently been getting back in the ring. You knew this of course, having been told a few weeks back by Nick and Matt that Kenny would be returning onscreen this week.

Today, in fact.

You notice that both your hands stopped shaking a while ago and now you’re both just holding onto each other. You decide to break the contact, unsure how to feel under his captivating gaze as his hand engulfs yours in a comforting way.

“I’ll not bother you two any more than I have, but I really thought it was time I get to know the wrestler who Matt and Nick have been raving about endlessly to me. I’m looking forward to working with you Cori. See you later this evening?” Kenny shoots you the question, although really it could’ve been more of a statement.

You would of course be taking up the Elite’s corner tonight in the main event, acting as an insignificantly small part of Kenny’s immense return to the ring.

A short nod from you is all you can muster, still feeling slightly star-struck by the man in front of you. Kenny’s eyes have an almost mischievous twinkle to them as a grin passes across his face before he leaves. Were it not for the fact you were completely spaced out following the interaction, you wouldn’t have caught him looking back over his shoulder at you and giving you a tiny wave. A small gesture, but one that sends your veins thrumming as you realise he must’ve caught you staring.

A few seconds pass before Ethan lets out a low whistle.

“Talk about floundering, you couldn’t barely string a sentence together in front of him! This is bad!” He laughs, looking at your slightly dazed expression, cheeks a raging shade of pink.

“Fuck off Julian.”

---------

A/N: Short first chapter, sorry!! (I wanted to test the waters with me getting back into writing) I hope that this fic is interesting and people want to read more as I’ve got this story pretty much mapped out already! It’ll be a short fic but I can’t say for certain how many parts to this there’d be (estimate would be around 6/7? IDK I’m so bad at working this stuff out 🙃), although the future parts will be longer than this one.

Also, I am planning for there to be SMUT in future parts so just a lil’ wink wink 😉 for y’all and also a warning to under 18′s (I will be mentioning in the warnings where there is anything NSFW).

#kenny omega #kenny omega x reader #kenneth omega #one winged angel #tyson smith #aew #all elite wrestling #wrestling #ethan page #all ego ethan page #wrestling fic #fanfic #kenny omega fanfiction #aew dynamite #aew imagine #aew fic #aew x reader #aew all out #the elite #matt jackson #nick jackson #the young bucks #young bucks #being the elite

[eldritchaccident]

Timing: An unknown amount of days after chapter 6 Location: Echo, Ontario Canada Warnings: N/A Summary: Teddy gets a visitor

Time drifted together. The darkness was so consuming that Teddy could no longer tell night from day. Only that some had passed because every so often someone would come in, make sure they weren’t dead, clean up and feed them. Of course they wore gloves though. Obscuring the hungry skin that begged for contact. Because why would the universe give them a hand? 

It ate at them. The darkness. Shapes formed in the corners, slipping between nothingness and void. It all blurred together. At one point, someone had managed to brush their skin just slightly, screaming as they did so. It wasn’t much, but it was enough that they had the energy to attempt something. 

With a thick squelch Teddy pulled their arm from its socket. Gritted through the pain and slipped their hand out of its trappings. Figuring the first Shah to walk through that fucking door would take it back. Throbbing and angry muscles and sinew still worked. And Teds was no stranger to pain. The bindings were undone, the chair released them. They stood for the first time in what felt like weeks. Wobbling with the effort, but standing victorious with pride. 

Six steps to the door, they’d counted as the guards and their father had walked in. Even in the darkness, even after all that time they remembered. They’d been thinking of it non-stop. Teddy fumbled, searching for the handle only to be shocked and blasted back. Fuck. Warded. Of course. A string of panic sent their heart up, catching in their throat as it beat louder and louder. Like a caged animal they went for the door again, only to be rebuked. 

They wanted to scream. Wanted to claw at it, wanted to break through the walls but no. The whole room was sealed in. Noise would just attract them. Let them know something was up, they’d already been too loud. Shit. Teddy quieted in their worry, listening closely as footsteps indeed approached. 

Good. 

Whoever was coming closer was about to get a world of fucking pain. Teddy scrambled back, trying to find the chair and setting themself inside it for maximum surprise. That same rush of energy filled the room along with a flood of light. With the ward on the door down, the darkness was dispelled. At first, it was blinding, but slowly vision came too. Half impaired, the injury above their eye having done a lasting number. But they were ready. Just in time for their muscles to tense and get eager to pounce on– 

Fuck. 

FUCK.

A little pair of dark eyes looked over at Teddy. Long tresses of wavy black hair fell down over a tiny nightgown. It was Kaliana. She was so small, but looked so much like them. Their heart sank and soared all at the same time. Ashamed at what almost transpired. 

“We don’t have a lot of time.” She spoke. “You’re… Teddy right? I was listening in. I wasn’t supposed to be, but I did.” 

There were no words. Their mouth was dry, burning. A second’s pause felt like an eternity. “And you’re… Kaliana, yeah?” 

“That’s right. You are my big brother, aren’t you?”

“Sorta.” Yes of course they were. “Guess it’s a bit complicated, do you–”

“Father is upset with you.” She cut them off. A look of worry knitting her brows together.

“Yeah, yeah, I figured that one out. Not– A hundred percent sure what I did but, yeah.”

“You aren’t trained.” Kaliana simply stated. As if it was obvious. As if it was terrifying. “If you were trained… you could be okay. You could be part of the family.” 

“Oh?” Teddy brightened. “Always wanted to learn, I’m– I’m a pretty good student.” 

“It’s too late.” 

“...Oh. Why’s that?” 

“It’s too late cause you’re all grown up. Grandmother… she doesn’t– if you can’t control your magic by the time you grow up, she takes it back.” There was something more to her words. It felt like she wasn’t just talking about a severed connection. Felt more like the kid was stringing a story about a boogeyman. Processing for a moment, Teddy’s mind flashed back to the face Ishaan had made. The mixture of sorrow and relief. They could have been great. 

“She’s… gonna do that to you.” Kaliana continued. She stepped closer, but not before taking a look out the window, now that the room wasn’t a void. “You can’t ascend properly, so she’s gonna take it back, on the solstice.” There was a long sigh. A pained look cast outward, then she turned to face them, tears bristling at the corners of her eyes. “I  just– I wanted to meet you first.” 

“Hey– Hey it’s– it’s alright, I’m glad I got to meet you.” Teddy softened, their heart shattering right before their eyes. Kaliana stepped forward again, throwing her arms wide in what Ted realized was going to be a hug. Her nightgown was long but her arms were bare. They jumped back, knocking over the chair in the process, startling the girl. “Wait– sorry, you can’t– I’m sorry Kali you can’t touch me right now. You’d get hurt– I– I’m sorry–” 

“Oh. Is that because of the strange thing?” Confused, but clearly interested, the kid tilted her head. “The thing mixed up in your magic?”

“You can sense that?” None of the others seemed to notice. Teddy looked on in awe. Even their father made no mention of the difference between their magics. 

“It’s… like a wiggly shadow. Was that from your mom?” 

“Well, that’s kind of a long story, kiddo.” 

“I like stories.” 

“Me too. I wish I could tell you all of it. 

Silence filled the space between them. The young girl pressed her lips together, walked towards the window and pressed her face to the glass. A bark of laughter wheezed through Teddy’s chest. The simple action was something they used to do. The coolness and firmness always helped them think. Plus they loved to observe whatever went on outside whatever fortress they’d sealed themself into. 

“What if… you got out of here? Would you… would you be able to tell me the story, in secrets maybe?” 

“Wouldn’t you get in trouble?” 

“They wouldn’t know it was me. I’m very careful, and I’m pretty good. Actually very good with my magic.” 

“Yeah” Teddy melted into a smile. How could they not. An overwhelming pride bristling at this young kid they barely knew. “I can see that. I bet your dad is really proud.” 

“He says I’m the strongest in a generation. Whatever that means. But he also–” She stopped, turned back to Teddy and set herself up on the windowsill, looking troubled. “He said you were stopping my– potential.” 

“...h-how could I do that?” Teddy asked, quietly, concerned. “You guys didn’t even know I existed until a few days ago, right? I-I-I promise I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, Kali, I promise.” 

“No, it’s not that.” She affirmed, still looking dour. “It’s ‘cause we have the same magic. All of us. Grandmother says… if you don’t know how to wield it, you– you’re wasting it.” 

“Oh.” 

“That’s why–”

“That’s why she does the rituals, huh?” 

Another beat of silence fell between them. 

“But– you seem nice. You aren’t like how they talked. I don’t want you to go away.” 

“I don’t wanna go away either, I–I wish we could have met earlier, Kali.” 

“You keep saying that. It’s not my full name.” 

“Teddy isn’t my full name either, but you used that.” 

“Yes, but– it fits you better than Theodore.” 

“Well, I think Kali fits you better.” 

The kid took a moment, deliberating perhaps, then quickly and decisively nodded and smiled brightly. It looked just like Teddy’s smile. 

“Okay. Kali and Teddy.” She looked towards the door, then turned her attention back to the window. “If you— if you did leave, would you be able to visit? Like if you were all sneaky and– and maybe grandmother would be okay with it– if you learned your magic before you came back??” 

“Kali– I d– I don’t know if me learning now is gonna fix anything.” Teddy whispered, afraid of the crestfallen look cast their way. “–but I could, you know. If you want me to, I could come back– or I–” Pain lined their voice, an ache so deep they barely knew they could feel that intensely. An idea slipped in, an offer they could make. Take her with them. She’d fit in so well at the Jones house. Emilio, fucking hell knows he’d welcome her with open arms. Nora, Wynne, Van, well they’d all get a little sister to dote on. In their mind, it was daisies. But in reality– She was home here. She had a relationship with their father that Teddy didn’t understand but they knew enough to know that she was amazing with her magic. That he was proud of her. He wouldn’t– They couldn’t say for sure, but they believed he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. 

“I could try. For you kiddo.”  

“Then you better get out quickly. I can give you a charm so you won’t get caught. If you go through the fancy garden, no one will be looking at all.” 

“Are you sure you aren’t gonna get–”

“I’m okay. Promise. You go— get better at magic, okay?” 

“Okay.”

So much of the return was a blur. 

Teddy ran the gauntlet back to town, only to see guards covering the doors of the motel, and their car under close watch. Unable to grab any of their stuff, they dashed off down the road on foot. Luck was on their side at least a little. They still had their wallet, still had the cash they’d taken out weeks ago at this point. Enough to buy a shitty little truck from a confused little farmer that would hopefully bring them home. He didn't seem to notice the blood, the wounds, or anything. Just acted as if Ted was another normal person coming up and asking about the for sale sign. Silently, Teddy thanked the charm Kali had given over. Knowing that it was responsible somehow for their discretion. 

There was a moment, brief as it might have been, that Teddy considered draining that man. Unsure, really, what stayed their hand and stopped them from doing so. The asshole at the gas station fifty miles out of town didn't receive the same courtesy. One shitty remark about Teddy's pink hair and they pounced like a fucking tiger. Only to find the shoulder was the only wound that started to heal. Even that didn't heal to perfect. Still aching and numb by the time Ted had filled up with gas and jetted on down the road. 

Hours dragged on and on. Adrenaline sustaining them for most of it, and perseverance taking up the later half. The border was crossed, Maine welcomed them back with open arms. 

Only for the truck to sputter and die, just a mile from home.

#wickedswriting

[conradscrime]

Who Is Kenora “Millie” Jane Doe?

June 30, 2023

On June 17, 2009, the body of a woman in a one-person tent was found near Miller Rapids Road, Kenora, Ontario, Canada, by a hiker. The tent was in a wooden area.

Kenora, Ontario is located along the Trans-Canada Highway, and is close to the Manitoba, Minnesota, and North Dakota borders.

From information provided, it appears that the woman found had set up her tent even 1-2 days before she was discovered. The tent was on Rideout Bay, long the Winnipeg River. The woman was using an hibachi to cook inside the tent. 

The woman, nicknamed “Millie” had accidentally died from carbon monoxide poisoning from the stove she was using. Given the name “Kenora Jane Doe” she was estimated to be between 33-55 years old, Caucasian, 5′3 to 5′7 feet tall, and 110 pounds. 

Millie had shoulder length light brown hair, could even be dark blonde hair and was wearing hiking gear, enough to suggest she may have been an experienced hiker. She was wearing size 5 Outback hiking boots that were bought at Payless and 6P jeans were Midtown brand. She wore oval wire-framed glasses, and a beaded necklace and hoop earring were found in her tent. She also had a black duffel bag, $75 in cash and $2.84 in change. 

The woman also had a copy of the book “A Long Way Down” by Nick Hornby, and the bookmark she was using was sold from McNally-Robinson Bookstores which are locations found in Winnipeg and Saskatoon. Also found in her tent was a bottle of 13 Pfizer pills and medication for back and muscle pain. 

It also appeared that this Jane Doe had a reconstruction of her jaw done in surgery during her life. Her facial bones were surgically cut, her upper and lower jaws were re-adjusted. The procedure appeared to be outdated, suggesting it must of been done at least 20-30 years earlier. Millie was probably in her 20′s when this procedure took place. It also appeared that she probably wore braces as an adult and she may have been a smoker as there were spots on her lower teeth. 

Source: CanadaUnsolved

#unsolved #UNSOLVED MYSTERIES #unsolved murder #unsolved crime #unsolved case #true crime #Crime

[mywifeleftme]

322: Rival Boys // Animal Instincts

Animal Instincts Rival Boys 2014, Tiny Records (Bandcamp)

Rival Boys were an Ontario indie rock band active in Toronto from the late ‘00s to the mid ‘10s. They were a three-piece comprising sibling vocalists Lee and Graeme Rose (on bass/violin and guitar, respectively) and drummer Sam Sholdice, with a sound somewhat like Vancouverites Mother Mother on a blue day. (Whom, as an aside, I have discovered are now way more popular thanks to TikTok than they ever were at the time—they have 8.3 million listeners a month on Spotify, which is like… 38 times more than the New Pornographers.) Both Roses affect a mewl somewhere between Violent Femmes’ Gordon Gano and Sarah McLachlan, with Lee’s more powerful bellow usually taking the lead. In conjunction with the cold mountain violin that periodically sweeps the floorboards, it gives their otherwise youthful affect a nostalgic somberness. They were emphatically a rock band though, capable of kicking up a surly crunch: they didn’t have the dance rhythms of the Metric/Land of Talk acolytes who were all over CBC Radio 2 (the national public alternative music station) at the time, preferring to lope along like the Pixies.

Rival Boys were no longer a going concern by the time I moved to Toronto in 2017; I discovered them when I found a CD of their 2009 EP Life of Worry in the basement of an Ottawa house I shared with a friend who’d known somebody in the band back in high school. It was the first time I can remember coming across a group remotely in my social radius that struck me as unequivocally good. I listened to that five-song EP to death for a few years, and I still think they really nailed their sound with it; as a result, I had kind of a chilly response to their 2014 farewell Animal Instincts when I found it at a punk flea market. They’d shed just a touch of the raw-boned vulnerability that had made their loose, imagistic lyrics cling like a thin flannel against a harsh wind; a bit less bite to the guitar; a hair less heedless urgency to the vocals. The serviceable cover of Wolf Parade’s “I’ll Believe in Anything” seemed on the nose; the new rendition of EP highlight “Construction Work” didn’t make my heart stagger around like the original.

But listening to it now, I think Animal Instincts’ real sin was just not being the record I’d fallen in love with. Life of Worry is special, but there’s plenty to like on the LP. Opener “Fortune” edges the hell out of the listener before finally giving us some of Lee in full thunder; “Young and Old” is a showcase for the close harmonies, wet-eyed violin, and martial drumming that were Rival Boys’ most distinctive element; “Don’t Bloom” gives us a little of everything Lee does well, flowing from a distracted, introverted croon to a high wail that arcs like a flaming arrow at a Viking funeral. On this listen anyway, even the new version of “Construction Work” is doing it for me. There’s a nice closure to the fact that it was both among the first and last things they cut: the original with its blazing, desolate frustration sweeping into a folk reel outro that feels like transcendence; the revision more brittle, reserved, like people on the cusp of leaving adolescence behind giving it one last go, the quieter outro never quite taking off but settling into a low, churchy organ drone. It feels like a dignified goodbye.

Which the record in fact was, although it may not have been clear at the time. Graeme dropped out of the music scene altogether; Lee was quiet for a few years, but soldiers on with the very good Ace of Wands; I’m not sure what Sam’s up to these days. Time moves on—it’s 15 years since the EP, 10 now since the LP. I’m sure for the band members and their fans it feels like barely half that time, like finding a book you set down just the other day covered in dust and all your friends so old all the sudden! If ‘00s indie music can be said to have been about anything, it was surely about digging deeper into the experience of being alive, celebrating the wild joy of it while you can, making something of that. Rival Boys surely made something, and it’s nice to have something physical of it to keep.

322/365

#rival boys #toronto #toronto music #'10s indie #indie rock #wolf parade #ace of wands #mother mother #music review #vinyl record #Bandcamp

[hancydrewfan]

pairing: hotchniss (hotch x emily); vaguely spread across seasons 4-7 warnings: annnnnngst and loooooooooove, my favourite things; smoking and alcohol and canon-typical violence (mentioned) word count: 2.2K Phoebe Bridgers, Patty Griffin, and Norah Jones have all written a Moon Song. Each Moon Song tells its own story of love, and together they form the inspiration of this fic. As per usual: our two favourite idiots in love, how they fell apart, and ultimately how they find their way.

read on ao3 or below the cut!

- phoebe -

The moon was so bright. It was so much brighter lately than it ever had been. Or maybe she just noticed it more now because it was shining down on her like a spotlight. As if she ever wanted to be the star of anything, and now she felt like she was supposed to monologue about something. But she just took another drag from her cigarette instead—a habit she mostly broke, but sometimes fell back to when her world felt tilted in the wrong direction. 

Fear and adrenaline brought them together in the first place, the sound of Cyrus’ fists on her skin still echoing between his ears when Aaron knocked on her apartment door barely an hour after landing back in DC, unable to rest without seeing for certain that she was okay. He wept at the sight of her bruised eye, even darker than it had been earlier, and she let him inspect her wounds, his fingers trailing lightly over her split lip and cracked ribs until a spark stole the air from the room and they could only breathe through the other’s lungs.

He didn’t stay the night, she would never have let him, but she let him in again a week later, and again and again after that. For months she tiptoed around the conversation about them because she didn’t want to break their bubble of solace, until the depravity of the Turner brothers in Southern Ontario lit a fire under her skin, and she told him they needed to figure it out and suggested dinner that weekend. A date that passed forgotten after Foyet desecrated his home and split his family. The beginning of their end. 

Her birthday fell on a Monday that year, and it was the last time Emily remembered his real smile lighting his face. Penelope had begged her to come out with the team that night, a rare start to the week that didn’t have them flying to another part of the country for a case. All she really wanted to do was spend a quiet night at home with a bottle of wine trying to divert Aaron’s attention for an evening, but it was becoming clearer every day that she couldn’t do that alone anymore. She spied Rossi and Aaron out of the corner of her eye, no doubt the one convincing the other to come out just for a night, for the good of the team, so she relented, a small part of her awed that these people thought she was worth celebrating.

She should’ve expected the birthday cake at the bar, it was Penelope after all, but it still caught her off guard, a touching gesture from the people she relied on more than family. They sang Happy Birthday, voices off-key and out-of-sync from the buzz of too much liquor, and she blew out the candles. “Speech!” Derek shouted, but she looked up at Aaron and saw that his smile had reached his eyes for the first time in weeks, and she stuttered, forgetting how to speak, before lamely thanking everyone for the fun evening.

He knocked at her door again that night, and she could feel him trying so hard to be present as he revered her body with soft lips and gentle hands. Holding her close after, he traced his fingers through her hair as he asked, “What was your wish?”

She yawned and blinked lazily. “Hmm?”

“When you blew out your candles,” he added. “What did you wish for?”

“Oh,” she murmured, settling into his chest. “Just the moon.” 

In her haze of near-sleep she could’ve sworn she heard him whisper, I’m trying, but she drifted into a dreamless night in his arms. He was long gone by the time she woke to the smell of fresh coffee, her favourite mug on the counter beside the machine that he’d programmed to her usual morning routine.

She’d realised the truth of her feelings while sitting at his bedside in the hospital, at the middle of the end — she’d give Aaron the moon if he asked for it. But he forgot to ask for anything, so consumed he was with keeping his promise to Haley that trying to hold onto the last good thing in his life became like trying to hold water in his hands, feeling it spill through his fingers. He didn’t knock at her door again after her birthday, and that was the end. Emily let him let her go, resigned to the life of not-quites and almosts that seemed to follow her wherever she went. Days later it was Haley’s bloodstained hair spilling through his fingers as he wept over her broken body.

And now she was here, after the end of them, like a postscript. Smoking in the moonlight on a balcony in Wyoming. The night was brisk and bright, the chill in the air a tonic after a long day of teenage suicide. Aaron’s room was a floor below hers, just to the left. She could see the lamplight from his room spilling out of his window, no doubt as he hunched over his desk with a mountain of paperwork and a bitter coffee to keep him awake, how she knew he was spending most nights lately. A quick burst of wind whistled by, and she felt acutely alone. After a final drag from her cigarette, she stubbed it out and glanced down to Aaron’s room once more, willing him to step outside and feel the night for a moment’s reprieve. Exhaling once more in the cold, she slipped back into her room, locking the sliding door behind her before curling under the covers.

The window rattled with the wind and Aaron looked up from file before him. The moon was so bright, brighter than he’d ever seen before. The night sky was clear in this sleepy town, and he got up from the desk to gaze at stars he hadn’t seen in months, years maybe. After a day of delving into the darkness of humanity, the moonlight felt like a gift. There is still light, fragments of hope scattered like the stars in the night, and the moon… the moon is always there.

- patty -

Aaron was leaving for Pakistan in just a few hours. Penelope had arranged a little goodbye party (“Not a goodbye party, Sir, that means you’re not coming back. It’s a see-you-when-you-come-back-from-Pakistan party, which is hopefully soon…”), but he begged off, saying he wanted to spend the evening with Jack before he left. In truth, he’d already said his goodbyes to Jack that morning, choosing to treat the secondment as if he were leaving for any other case to make it easier for the little boy to understand. He just needed to be alone.

Alone took him to a canteen not far from the military base he’d checked into earlier; he was on his third vodka tonic, the clean burn of the alcohol thrumming to his heartbeat. He felt stupid and hollow.

He’d known something was up. They may not have been sleeping together anymore, but Aaron still knew every one of Emily’s tells, and she was not okay. Late three times in a week, a tiredness to her eyes that concealer couldn’t hide, she was jittery but she wasn’t drinking more coffee. She ate TicTacs like M&Ms and she changed the little scented tree in her car more frequently, telltale signs of someone masking a smoking habit. But he didn’t push her, he couldn’t. He waited for her to come to him, but she never came around at all. 

Knowing now her history with the CIA, it was no wonder she was so skilled at keeping secrets. It didn’t stop him from hating how long it took him to figure it out, just minutes too late. He followed her to that warehouse in Boston where her lifeblood oozed onto the concrete floor. He followed her into the ambulance, blind to the rest of his team. He followed her into the hospital, as far as the surgical staff would let him. He followed her until someone higher up pulled the plug on Emily Prentiss, until she was nothing more than a faked death lost in a sea of bureaucracy and paperwork. 

A bureau-mandated inquiry into the “Prentiss-Doyle situation” as they called it resulted in a two-week paid leave and a month in Quantico spent on consultations rather than on scene. He’d slogged through that time, endless meetings and infinite paperwork dulling his mind. He jumped at the opportunity to leave the country, incapable of feeling much guilt about leaving Jack behind for weeks, maybe months, while he was drowning in his own shame for failing Emily again and again.

He could’ve told her that he regretted breaking up. He almost did, when a shortage of rooms in Alaska put them together. She’d insisted it wasn’t a big deal, they could share the bed, she was always cold anyways. He nearly fell asleep, but then she curled right into him, clutching his shirt like she used to, and it took all of his willpower to not tuck the hair brushing her cheek behind her ear. 

He swallowed the last of his drink, unaffected by the bitter burn in his throat, and dropped a few bills on the bar, grabbing his duffel as he left the canteen to catch what little sleep he could before boarding the long flight. It was a clear May night, and the moon shone brightly behind him as he walked towards the bunkhouse. It surprised him, seeing how much light there was, and he paused for a minute at the door, turning to gaze into the moonlit night. The moon glowed down on him, the same as it ever was. How could something be so far away and yet make the midnight radiate with light? Perhaps the same way she was across an ocean and still in his thoughts every second. Tonight, before the long journey ahead of him, it felt like the moon followed him home.

On a balcony in Paris, a wisp of smoke curls into the early morning air. The last of the stars are winking out but the moon clings to the periwinkle sky, dawn only moments from breaking. Another day feeling stupid and hollow as she numbly goes through the motions of her cover. Her only reprieve is watching the moon disappear into the early morning light, finding comfort in knowing that when it leaves her sky, it follows its path around the Earth to his. She keeps her eyes on the moon until the very end, until the sun’s rays spraying out from behind the old city block in front of her erase it from the sky, hidden again until the evening’s twilight. She takes one last drag before stubbing out her cigarette, sparing one more glance toward the sun as it rises.

- norah -

On a Saturday morning, they counted the marshmallows in his Lucky Charms. The rule was she could have four of any of them except for the rainbows, his favourite. She always took three hearts and a moon. “A heart for you, a heart for Daddy, and a heart for Sergio,” she says.

“And a moon for you!” Jack chimes in, having indulged in this ritual with her nearly every weekend for several months now.

“And a moon for me.” She watches him fondly as he sorts his marshmallows by type, arrayed in as close to a rainbow shape as he could, another part of the ritual. Six months ago she had a bad day and Aaron invited her over for breakfast the next morning. She hasn’t missed a week of marshmallow sorting since. 

“Where does the moon go?” Jack asks, popping a red balloon into his mouth.

“What do you mean?” 

“Where does the moon go?” he asks again, sorting horseshoes into their pile. “I know it comes out at night and goes away in the morning, but where does it go?”

She scours her memory for grade school science. “Well, it keeps orbiting the Earth…” she trails off, remembering a sunrise in Paris. “You know, I’ve seen the moon disappear before.”

Jack looks up. “Really?” he grins. “I want to see! How can we see it, Emily?”

“Well, I’ll have to ask your dad, but we could have a sleepover in the backyard—oof” Jack flies into her arms, and she grunts.

“Oh please Emily, please! I know Daddy’ll say yes if you ask him! He always says yes to everything you ask.”

Emily hugs the little boy close to her, stunned as always over the love he gave so freely. “I’ll ask him, don’t worry!”

- 

And so it came to be that they were in a tent in the Hotchners’ backyard, a house in the suburbs he’d promised for Jack when he’d returned from Pakistan. Jack fell asleep between them, curled into Emily’s side like a little bug. He’d been adamant he’d make it, that he’d stay up the whole night to watch the moon disappear in the morning, but she was under strict orders to wake him, just in case. And she would, she would give that boy the sun, the stars, the moon if he asked for it. Anything to make sure this moment, this life she found herself in, was real. Was hers. 

She turns toward Aaron, sleepy but alive, and sees him looking at her, a soft smile on his face as he rubs his thumb along the hand he holds. Maybe it’s just the way the light catches, but she swears she sees the moon reflected in his eyes. And he was hers.

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch x emily #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss