#liquor in Vancouver

[rickchung]

Zarak x Mount Pleasant.

"Band-e-Amir": Empress 1908 gin, Arbutus Distillery crème de lavende, passion fruit, lemon, and egg white from co-owner/bartender Winnie Sun.

[waterparksdrama]

it bothers me so much that awsten is like begging people to sell out the tour like get a hobby pls

dude this is his job and his only hobby is more work 😭😭😭 - iz

[fraserstores]

https://www.fcliquor.com/

Cellar Treasures by Fraser Commons Liquor

Uncover hidden gems and rare finds in our cellar, where each bottle tells a story of craftsmanship and tradition.Visit https://www.fcliquor.com/

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"PRISONER PICKS HIS HANDCUFFS," Vancouver Daily World. May 5, 1913. Page 21. --- Pretends to be Humiliated by Curious Passengers and Asks Guard for Paper to Cover Up Hands. ---- That H. L. Jackson, who was convicted on a charge of attempting to rob the Diamond Liquor Company and sentenced to a term of two years in the penitentiary, is no mere novice, was demonstrated by the clever manner in which he attempted to pick his handcuffs while being taken to the New Westminster penitentiary on Saturday by Provincial Constable Wing.

"Get me a paper," said he, "so I can spread it over my hands. People are gazing at me." The constable believed that the request was a reasonable one and complied with it. During his absence, however, Jackson got in his fine work, and had nearly worked the handcuffs off. One, however, he tightened up 50 that it took a locksmith some time to take them off after their arrival at the penitentiary. "He's the smoothest customer I ever had anything to do with," remarked Police Constable Wing, in referring to Jackson.

Now that Jackson is behind the bars the police think that they have effected the capture of an exceptionally clever criminal. Besides attempting to rob the Diamond Liquor Company, he is alleged to have been a partner of James W. Hinds, who is serving a sentence of ten years for the same robbery and attempting to shoot Police Constable Sinclair.

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Stolen Wife - 5

Synopsis – Tommy Shelby is married to Grace, but he becomes obsessed with Y/N, wife of Reuben Fitch, Tommy’s business partner in the U.S. who is unaware of his actual “business”.

This blog supports Palestine. Zionists are not welcome here.

You don’t know how your life turned into a nightmare…a ghoulish nightmare. One moment you were happy and celebrating your pregnancy with your family and friends and the next moment, you were getting held at gun point by a robber, you knew your husband had a gun in his pocket, something you loathed but at that moment you were happy that he had that gun, the robber must have seen the gun when he shot Rueben erratically, and then he turned on you, Rueben protected you till his dying breath, Rueben shot the robber with his gun and saved your life, but your husband your family was taken away from you, your husband and best friend snatched from you. You couldn’t even comprehend what had happened. When you woke up in the hospital, for a moment you thought it was a bad nightmare, but the machines attached to you signaled the opposite.

The attending doctor told you that you were shot in the chest, the bullet miraculously had missed your heart but punctured your lung, and you were lucky to be alive. But were you lucky? Or were you the unluckiest person, you had lost everything, your husband was shot dead in front of you, the shooter shot you too but missed the first shot and was not alive to shoot the next bullet.

“I am sorry Mrs. Fitch; we could not save the baby…” these words brought you out of your mind fog. Instinctively your hand went to your abdomen…Your baby died too…Your one connection to Rueben died too…You were catatonic…You could not even do the basic job of protecting the life growing within you…You never felt so useless.

Your friends and family gave you space, space to mourn, space to grieve not just your husband, but your child too…

Police called it an armed robbery but Javy, Mickey, Nat, Brad, Jake did not think so, but they didn’t say anything. They increased your security. They changed your locks, your cameras and every damn device, while you were in hospital. They even increased the surrounding security in hospital. Rueben knew how dangerous his line of work was, and your security was paramount to him. For you, your husband was a military contractor with a pub he ran with his friends, you just didn’t know that your husband was involved in illegal activities as well which included drugs, liquor and arms.

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

You were on your way to get to some Chai with oat-milk, trying not to break down every damn morning, missing your husband and the morning rituals you shared with him. You bumped into Tommy in a café in Vancouver, Canada of all places, physically bumped into him, you were in over your head, and you were not looking where you were supposed to be going.

“Oh, I am so sorry.” You looked to apologize to the stranger, but you were met with relatively known steely blue eyes.

“Mrs. Fitch?” Thomas asked in his Brummie accent.

Fuck, that name, that label, that brings up so much sorrow, your eyes well up, but you blink away those tears, you tell yourself, you need to move on…need to power through…It’s been almost a year since your life upended, the love of your life killed in front of your eyes.

Not really, you were unaware of your surroundings, but you were trying to keep to yourself, but Thomas Shelby needed to find a way to talk to you, so he chose the easiest way of it all, crashing into you purposefully.   

You smiled, trying to place him…

“Oh hi” you reply. Tommy saw the questioning look in your eyes, you had no clue who he was or what he was.

“I am Thomas Shelby, we met briefly at a Charity Ball in Birmingham.”

“It is nice to see you again, Mr. Shelby.” you reply politely.

“I heard what happened…I’m sorry for your loss.” Tommy added.

You just nodded reflexively, like you did every fucking time when someone offered their sympathies.

“I didn’t expect to see you here Mrs. Fitch, I thought you lived in San Diego.”

“I did…I do…Well, not now exactly, I am taking a sabbatical and please call me Y/N.” you asked, basically pleading, not wanting another reminder of what you lost or who you were…Rueben’s wife or what you are now…his widow. His sad pathetic widow who is running away from her life because you can’t fucking function properly without your soulmate.

“Only if you call me Tommy” He responded while physically guiding you inside the coffee shop, and there is nothing you can do but comply out of politeness.

Tommy asks you for your order, you wanted to protest and buy your own beverage, but you also didn’t want to be rude. You begrudgingly order some chai. Tommy Shelby bought you your chai but nothing for himself, and it made you feel guilty.

He pushed the mug towards you, you took the mug and thanked him.

“So, Y/N, what are you doing here?” Tommy asked in his heavy Brummie accent.

“I guess, I just needed to get away…”

“I heard what happened. I am sorry for your loss.” Tommy consoled.

Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry….you chant mentally.

You clear your throat and squeak out “Thank you”.

“So, how long are you here for?” Tommy probed.

“I don’t know, I may be here for a while, or I may leave and find another city to go to which is safe… Mickey usually sends me the locations that are relatively safer for me. I do not have any timeline.” You reply.

Tommy knows that very well. He is well-aware of Rueben’s people taking care of your security. Tommy only got to know about your location from his people on the East Coast, namely Michael.

“That’s fun, why don’t you come visit us in Birmingham?” Tommy proposes.

You are taken aback by his proposition, you don’t really know what to say, you barely know this man, why would he invite you to his home?

“Mr. Shelby…ummm…I mean Thomas, I don’t think that is a good idea…”. You mumble out.

“Why not? I see it in your eyes, you are trying to escape your painful memories, anyone can see that…why don’t you join us in another continent as long as you want where Rueben and his memories wouldn’t haunt you.” Tommy confronts you, basically bringing up everything that your family and friends have been thinking…going for your jugular.

You gulp nervously, you didn’t expect some relatively unknown person to expose your wounds and like a wounded animal you ran away from that table. You did not like being confronted by the likes of Thomas Shelby, how dare he say anything about what you should do….

[babydollmarauders]

GIRLS NIGHT — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

FAITHLYNN’S 500 CELLY!

🌷: “how drunk was i?” with Quinn.

warnings: intoxicated reader, throwing up

my body drips with sweat, my hair is falling from it’s updo, and i think i just lost one of my shoes; girls night is going swimmingly.

“y/n! stop! come put your shoe back on.” Amelia calls out from behind me. i glance back to find her trailing after me as i hobble off the dance floor, my heel in her hand and a frown on her face.

“oh, hey, i was looking for that.” my words are slurred, an aftermath of too many tequila shots and three long island iced teas. i stop, grabbing the lone shoe from Amelia and using her shoulder to stabilize myself as i slip it back on.

“i think it’s time to call Quinn to come pick you up.” she sighs. “let’s go find Ivy with our phones.”

“but the night is still so young.” i whine as she drags me behind her to our booth, where Ivy sits guarding our things.

“y/n, it’s almost two in the morning. the night isn’t young, it’s almost over.” Amelia sits me into the booth, digging through my purse for my phone.

“buzzkill.” i mumble, crossing my arms on the table and laying my head on top of them. Amelia steps away to make a call to Quinn, and Ivy keeps watch over me, though i don’t think she’s much help either; she’s drank just as much as i have, our only difference being that she can handle her liquor better than i can.

i raise my head back up to watch Ivy as she sips at a sprite, her eyes bloodshot and her lipstick faded.

“are you feeling fine? because i feel fine.” i say. she nods, her lips never leaving her straw.

“i feel great.” she mutters around the plastic between her lips. i hum in drunken agreement.

“me too.” i reiterate. Amelia steps back up to the table, heaving out a sigh as she flops down into the seat next to me.

“Quinn is coming to get you.” she tells me. “and then i’m taking Ivy back to my house. i would’ve brought you but i don’t think i can handle taking care of the both of you.”

Amelia was tonight’s DD. she only had one cocktail at the beginning of the night and then switched to soda, leaving her plenty sober by now to drive she and Ivy home.

we sit in silence for about ten minutes before i tried to escape back to the dance floor and Amelia had to pull me back down into my seat, satiating me with the promise of french fries when Quinn arrives. it’s another five minutes after that before my phone lights up with a text from him, telling me he’s here.

“c’mon Ives, let’s go.” Amelia holds a hand from both Ivy and i on our way out, making sure we don’t drift away from her like little children.

i smile when we step out into the chill Vancouver air, the breeze hitting my face.

“huggy!!” i beam when i catch sight of Quinn, leaned up against the side of his Audi. he pushes off, walking over and taking me from Amelia.

“hey, baby.” he coos, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “you have fun?”

“yeah! it was sooooooo fun!” i drag out and he chuckles.

“i’m glad. let’s get you back home, yeah?” he leads me to the passengers side of his vehicle and i whine.

“but my french fries!” Quinn sends a questioning glance toward Amelia.

“i had to promise her you’d get her some in order for her to stay at our table.” she shrugs. Quinn nods in response.

“okay, baby. we’ll stop at mcdonald’s on the way home. how about that?”

a grin spreads across my lips and i nod in agreement, letting him help me into the passengers seat and buckle my seatbelt for me.

“you’re the best boyfriend ever.” i tell him.

“i’m your fiancé.” he laughs, and i inhale a gasp.

“even better!” he bites back a smile, closing my car door and jogging around to his own. bidding goodbye and a safe drive to my friends, he slides into his own seat and starts the engine, pulling onto the road.

“don’t forget my french fries.” i mumble, laying my head against the cool glass of the window. he snickers.

“you can forget where your laptop is while sober, but you can’t forget about french fries when you’re drunk.”

“mhm!” i agree. i study his side profile as he pulls into the drive-thru for the nearest mcdonald’s, ordering me a large french fry and an oreo mcflurry. “you’re so pretty.”

“i’m pretty?” he laughs, handing me my food as he pulls away from the drive-thru window, pulling back out on the road to drive home.

“yeah.” i tell him. “like your mom. your mom is so pretty too.”

“i’ll be sure to tell her you think so.” he’s barely composing himself now as i respond with a ‘please do!’ and his eyes flicker to me every couple minutes to watch me as i eat my fries.

does he want my food?

i hold a french fry up to the side of his face and he grins, quickly turning his head to bite it from my fingers. i giggle as his teeth graze my fingertips and he winks at me.

Quinn turns into the parking garage, parking in one of our two designated spots, the other being taken up by my own car, and shuts off the engine. he slips out of the car, jogging around the back to open my door. i unbuckle myself and grab my mcflurry and fries and he grabs my purse and then helps me out, holding my hand the entire way up to our apartment. he unlocks the door and pushes it open, letting me enter first before he follows, locking the door behind us.

“are you done with your fries?” he asks, and i nod, handing him the rest. we stand in the kitchen in silence as i finish off my ice cream and he eats the last of my fries. when we’re both finished, he throws away our trash before walking over and taking my hand back in his.

“let’s get ready for bed.” he tells me, leading me down the hallway to our bedroom. he proceeds to help me as i get ready for bed; kneeling and taking my shoes off my feet, slipping one of his shirts over my head after i’ve gotten out of my dress, handing me makeup wipes from the package on our bathroom counter, and assisting me in brushing my teeth, before getting ready himself.

i slide under the blanket on our bed, waiting patiently for him to join me, and he does so when he exits our en-suite bathroom. pulling me into his side, he clicks off the lamp on his nightstand and presses a kiss to my lips.

“goodnight, baby.” he mutters.

“goodnight, Quinny. thank you for taking care of me.” i speak through a yawn, my eyes drooping shut.

**

i wake to bright golden rays of sun shining through the open window blinds, and a pounding headache. before i can even open my eyes, i’m hit with a wave of nausea, making me hop out of the warm bed and rush to the bathroom, dropping to my knees in front of the toilet.

i hear footsteps follow behind me prior to feeling callused hands graze my neck as they hold my hair up, one of them slipping down to rub my back as i heave into the toilet bowl. i wait until i’m sure i’m done before flushing, dropping to my butt to sit on the cold tiles.

“thank you.” i tell Quinn.

“of course, baby.” he replies, getting up and retrieving my toothbrush for me, handing it to me so i can wash away the awful taste. i stand, a hand to the wall as i rise, and make my way over to the sink, thoroughly brushing my teeth before following my fiancé back to bed.

i don’t think i can fall back to sleep after that, so i opt for checking my phone instead, finding a message from Quinn’s mother of her saying thank you and that i’m pretty too. i scrunch my face up in confusion but send back a text of gratitude.

“why is your mom telling me thank you and that i’m pretty?” i question, making Quinn chuckle.

“because you told me last night to tell her you think she’s pretty. so i told her this morning when she called me.” he informs me.

“oh.” i mutter. “how drunk was i?”

-

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[bossymarmalade]

me: [ idly reading the bc liquor magazine thinking one of the cocktails, by name and photo, looks like it might be fun to make ]

the recipe:

me: this *fucking bougie city* i swear to fucking god vancouver is the worst

[lilmissnatcat24]

uh oh, the first snippet

needless to say horrible terrible turn left spoilers under the cut

When Shepard didn’t respond, he took to looking out at the Horizon night. It looked like Earth enough during the day, albeit arid and red-skied. Almost like Arizona or Australia. But when it turned night, Shepard could truly tell how alien it really was. Three moons, one large and purple, with the other two cast in a yellow sheen and rotating around it like baby ducks. The grass whipped back and forth in the extreme wind storms that hit every night, giving the impression that the ground was breathing deep, low sighs. The wind rattled their quarters, and sometimes Shepard would wake up in a panic thinking that it was an earthquake or the ceiling crashing down on her. 

“It doesn’t look like Earth, does it?” she asked to the comfortable silence. 

“No, it doesn’t,” Kaidan said softly. His voice did this thing when she tried to talk to him late at night, as if he were a million miles away. “I can’t remember the last time I was in Vancouver. It all seems so long ago… I don’t even think I can remember what home looks like. I need to look at pics and vids just to get an idea. But if you were to ask me right now, ‘describe what your childhood bedroom looked like,’ I don’t think I could tell you anything other than there was a bed and I slept there at night.” 

“I don’t think I ever had a home to begin with.” Shepard said it to make Kaidan feel better about himself, but from the pitying look she got from him she could tell her intentions backfired. He had this knack for making his eyes turn into these big wet, sad puddles. It was infuriating. “At least, not since…” 

The slight groaning sound coming from him told Shepard she only made it worse for herself. She loved Kaidan very dearly as her friend, but when he turned all empathetic and mushy on her she got the intrinsic urge to slap him across the face. 

“Do you miss him?” Kaidan said. 

Shepard thought that was a very stupid question to ask. Dramatics weren’t necessarily her style, but she would say that since Garrus Vakarian died, there’s been a gnawing at her chest that makes every breath just a little bit more difficult. She would find herself smiling at times, just to wipe it off her face, disgusted that she even could feel anything other than immense grief. She’s been irritable, she’s been snappy. She’s had a near constant headache and buzzes just inside of her ears. Sometimes, when she woke up, she would gasp and claw at her chest as if she were drowning. Then she would remember that yes, she was drowning indeed. Because life without Garrus was exactly like drowning. 

Except Shepard could never say any of that out loud, now could she? So she swallowed it, with the rest of her liquor, letting it burn her throat on the way down. “It’s getting late. I should be getting to sleep.” 

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

high infidelity | thirty one

I’m taking my time, cause you took everything from me. *Noah’s POV* I was deeply regretting this party I threw, but I needed to do something to help me numb any thoughts I had of Ellie. I fucking missed her so much but I also fucking hated her for how she just left me the way she did. My grip tightened on the bottle I was holding, picturing her out with her friends right now, drinking martini’s in some swanky bar downtown Vancouver. They were probably talking about how much of a dick I was to her, supporting her with whatever her next move was. For all I knew she was telling them how great Matt was to her and they were convincing her to pursue him over me. I sat on the edge of my bed, letting the liquor hit my lips again as my phone buzzed beside me. My heart stopped when I saw it was Ellie.

“Ellie?” Saying her name felt like a sigh of a relief as it escaped my mouth. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered into the phone. “I should’ve stayed.” “I’m sorry too.” Was all I managed to get out, swallowing a lump in my throat. “I miss you so much.” “I miss you too, Noah.” I could tell she was drunk, but I didn’t care. It felt so fucking good to hear her voice and that she thought of me in her incoherent state. “Can I call you in the morning? I was about to go to bed but I want to talk this through.” “Of course.” I could feel her smiling against the phone. “Goodnight. I love you.” I hung up my phone and just threw it across my room, watching it crack as it made contact with the wall. How could I be so fucking stupid? Throwing a party full of people I didn’t even like, trying to erase the one good thing I had in my life? I felt myself going back to my old self soothing ways and I didn’t like it one bit. I thought I finally escaped that when I met Ellie, but I was here again. I should’ve done more, she was right, I let my ego get in the way of her feelings and concerns. “Are you wanting another round or something?” 

Guilt hit me like a train as a blonde, naked woman walked out of my bathroom, placing her hand on my shoulder. I pushed her hand away as I got off the bed, throwing her clothes at her. I was so disgusted with myself knowing I fucked this girl in the same bed that I had Ellie in just to numb my emotions. Good fucking job, Noah, you really outdid yourself this time. “No, get the fuck out.” I snapped at her before storming out of my room. I walked into the living room and turned all my lights on and stopped the music. Everyone looked at me almost shellshocked, you could’ve heard a pin drop. I was seeing red, so angry at myself for everything I’ve done since Ellie left. If I wanted her back, I had to be a better man. “Everyone out. Now.” “Dude, what happened?” Nick followed me onto my patio, my entire body was pacing before I slid down the wall. My chest was caving in and felt like I was having a panic attack. Tears were pouring out of me as I put my head in my hands. Even though Ellie just called me to work things out, I already knew I was going to have to tell her what I did, even if that meant losing her for good. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.” I sobbed as Nick came down and sat beside me, letting me feel my emotions without judgement. “Noah, what happened?”

I lifted my head, wiping my tears away with my sleeve, “Ellie called me tonight after I did something really stupid.” “And what would that be?” “I took that blonde up to my room and hooked up with her.” I brought my knees up to my chest, feeling the guilt again. “I feel myself going back to that place, Nick.”

Nick sighed deeply, he was always the one who could help me out of my ruts, but I don’t know if he could even help me this time. “I really want to help you but that was pretty fucking stupid.” “I know.”

*Nick’s POV* I’ve seen Noah hit rock bottom before, but this was something new and it scared me a little bit. I was on his side with the whole Ellie incident but after talking to Bryan, I hated to admit I was siding with Ellie now. Bryan even told me how Ellie was dealing and it was strange to see how different they were handling this. Ellie knew what she did and she wasn’t going to beat herself up over it, so I don’t blame her for being out with her friends right now. I just hope Noah realizes he’s in the wrong cause I’m not fixing this one for him. “What do you want to do?” “I want her back.” Noah replied lifting his head to look at me. He looked so broken, his eyes were bloodshot from the alcohol in his system and his tears that kept falling, “I bought that ring for a reason.” “Were you really going to propose to her?” Noah sniffed back a few more tears before bringing his attention back to me, “Eventually, I just wanted to have a ring ready when it felt right.” “Ellie’s been married, so it’s going to take a lot of work to show her what a good marriage is. I know you’re not used to women like her, I’ve seen the spineless girls you bring home, she’s nothing like them. So you need to grow up or she’s going to find someone else.” “Like who?” He huffed, sending me a sarcastic glare. “I don’t know, Noah. I can tell you if you did half the damage control Matt did for her this morning you wouldn’t be in this mess.” He drew in a sharp breath as he absorbed the words I just said to him, “What if she goes after him?” “You better fix it before she does.” 

[nicklloydnow]

"Two Modern Noh Plays" by Yukio Mishima presented by Midtwenties Theater Society & 2019 Vancouver Fringe Festival

“POET: Listen to me. . . . I am just what I seem, a threepenny poet, without even a woman who'll look at me. But there's something I respect-the world as reflected in the eyes of young people who love each other, a hundred times more beautiful than what they actually see—that I respect. Look, they're not the least aware we're talking about them. They've climbed up high as the stars. You can see the glint of starlight under their eyes, next to the cheeks. . . . And this bench, this bench is a kind of ladder mounting to heaven, the highest lookout tower in the world, a glorious observation point. When a man sits here with his sweetheart he can see the lights of the cities halfway across the globe. But if (climbs on the bench) I stand here all by myself, I can't see a thing. . . . Oh, I do see something—lots of benches, somebody waving a flashlight—must be a policeman. A bonfire. Beggars crouching around the fire. The headlights of a car. They've passed each other now and are heading toward the tennis courts. What was that? A car full of flowers. Performers returning from a concert? Or a funeral procession? (He gets down from the bench and sits.) That's all I can see.

OLD WOMAN: What rubbish. Why in the world do you respect such things? It's that same silly nature of yours which makes you write sentimental poems that nobody will buy.

POET: And that's exactly why I never invade this bench. As long as you and I are occupying it, the bench is just so many dreary slats of wood, but if they sit here it can become a memory. It can become softer than a sofa, and warm with the sparks thrown off by living people. . . . When you sit here it becomes cold as a grave, like a bench put together out of slabs of tombstones. I can't bear that.

OLD WOMAN: You're young and inexperienced, you still haven't the eyes to see things. You say the benches where they sit, those snotty-faced shop clerks with their whores, are alive? Don't be silly. They're petting on their graves. Look, how deathly pale their faces look in the greenish street light that comes through the leaves. Their eyes are shut, the men and women both. Don't they look like corpses? They're dying as they make love. (Sniffs around her.) There's a smell of flowers, all right. The flowers in the park are very fragrant at night, just like those inside a coffin. Those lovers are all buried in the smell of the flowers, like so many dead men. You and I are the only live ones.

POET: (Laughs.) What a joke! You think you're more alive than they are?

OLD WOMAN: Of course I do. I'm ninety-nine years old, and look how healthy I am.

POET: Ninety-nine?

OLD WOMAN: (turning her face into the light) Take a good look.”

“OLD WOMAN: I know what the face looks like of someone who's come back to life—I've seen it often enough. It wears an expression of horrible boredom, and that expression is what I like. . . . Long ago, when I was young, I never had the sensation of being alive unless my head was all awhirl. I only felt I was living when I forgot myself completely. Since then I have realized my mistake. When the world seems wonderful to live in, and the meanest little flower looks big as a dome, and flying doves sing as they go by with human voices . . . when, I mean, everyone in the whole world says "Good morning" joyously to everyone else, and things you've been searching for ten years turn up in the back of a cupboard, and every girl looks like an empress . . . when you feel as if roses are blooming on the dead rose trees, then—idiotic things like that happened to me once every ten days when I was young, but now when I think of it, I realize I was dying as it happened. . . . The worse the liquor, the quicker you get drunk. In the midst of my drunkenness, in the midst of those sentimental feelings and my tears, I was dying. . . . Since then, I've made it a rule not to drink. That's the secret of my long life.

РОЕТ: (teasing her) Oh! And tell me, old lady, what is your reason for living?

OLD WOMAN: My reason? Don't be ridiculous! Isn't the very fact of existing a reason in itself? I'm not a horse that runs because it wants a carrot. Horses, anyway, run because that's the way they're made.”

- Yukio Mishima, ‘Sotoba Komachi’ (1956)

[rickchung]

Flavor Camp x Suite Genius x Mount Pleasant.

Sip Spirits’ Canadian whisky tasting hosted by beverage consultant Reece Sims.

[invisibleraven]

“Is that supposed to be a snowman?” for Willex?

Having grown up in California, Alex was a stranger to snow. He saw it in movies and shows, but never in real life. So when Willie offers to bring him to a snowboarding competition up in Vancouver, Alex jumps at the chance.

Snow it turned out was cold and wet, and Alex wasn't in fact a fan.

Sure, he did enjoy getting to be close to Willie as he taught him to snowboard. He loved getting to skate on a real pond as opposed to a rink for once. But snow in and of itself wasn't Alex's favourite thing.

However, he did love how much Willie loved it. How gorgeous Willie looked as the flakes caught in his eyelashes and melted in his dark hair. How gleeful he was playing in the fresh powder.

However, Alex could watch Willie play from inside the chalet they were staying in, nursing a liquored up hot chocolate next to a roaring fire.

But some things required he go outside, like when he caught Willie attempting some sort of sculpture. He bundled up, trudging up to Willie asking, "Is that supposed to be a snowman?"

Willie looked around the large mass of snow, grinning wide. "Nope!"

"What is it supposed to be then?" Alex questioned, shivering a little as a cold wind blew through his winter coat.

"A snow dick!" Willie cackles.

Alex looked at the misshapen mass and ... yup, that's a penis. With veins and balls and Willie had even made it circumcised. "Do I dare ask why?"

"Other than the joy of a five foot snow penis existing in the world?" Willie questions, and Alex glares a little. "For the meme."

"It's a meme?"

"Well, internet trend. Snow dicks everywhere. I saw one where they built it around a fire hydrant. Some people use coloured snow to make it more realistic. Bummed I forgot my paints," Willie said, slapping another handful of snow to the shaft.

"Won't the chalet staff mind?" Alex asked.

"Caleb owns this place, he pays them not to mind," Willie replied. "Plus they're used to me by now."

"Okay then, I'm gong to go inside before I freeze my actual dick off. You could come too, get some cocoa, maybe have a nap?" Alex offered.

"Just let me finish up the details, get a pic for my Insta, and I'll be right there. Save me some marshmallows?"

"Pssh, you wish," Alex said, then blew him a kiss. Willie pretending to catch it and pocket it, making Alex grin, then he stomped back off to the chalet.

But he totally did sneak a picture of the finished snow dick for the guys before making two mugs of cocoa.

He even made Willie's with marshmallows.

[berlinini]

name one interest other than Louis and the upcoming documentary and tour that you’re excited about or following? completely non Louis related. want to get to know my fellow louies better ☺️

ohhh! hmmmm... this is about to be very random hehe

Saturday I'm making a tiramisu for a diner with friends (eating raclette), it's the second time I'm making one and this time I have coffee liquor (last time I didn't so I had to use maple syrup liquor lol #canada)(i've been told you can also use Grand Marnier, fyi). Last time it was super good so I'm really excited to eat it again! Btw everyone says it's 'so easy to make' but they're lyiiing like! it's not hard but it's not banana bread easy!

In March, for my birthday, I'm going to spend the weekend in Montréal with some friends, going to the spa, brunch, café, yaddi yadda and going to see Inhaler! I'm really excited!! Then in September I'm going to see Arctic Monkeys in Montréal and Vancouver (and maybe Toronto)! I'm looking forward to planning some local trips for the summer - as well as my trip to Red Rocks!

As for pop culture stuff, I'm looking forward to Daisy Jones and the Six (tv series on Prime), the new season of Ted Lasso, reading Emily Saint John Mandel's new book.... I haven't kept up with upcoming movies, but whenever that nuclear bomb movie with Cillian Murphy will be out I'll go see it! Also WHEN is the next season of The Witcher coming out I NEED to see more Henry Cavill with long hair. Also random but this week I was reminded that Michael B. Jordan is a very good looking man!!

Finally one of my interests recently has been buying and trying new make up - trying to find the right combo of lipliner and lipstick. And then taking random selfies to show off (to no one) said make up.

Oh also I've been doing Wordle every day for weeks and now doing the Mini crossword too - and let me tell you, doing crosswords in your second language is quite a challenge!

So there you go! :) thanks for the lovely ask! <3

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Lebanon (14x13)

It's hilarious to me that the Lebanon, Kansas in Supernatural is like a big town when in the really real world it has a population of about 182.

Yeah, that's right.

182

That's it. It also looks like this...

This is pretty much the town, btw. There's no movie theater, no fancy liquor store. There's a market, a post office, an American legion, a "city" hall, a bank, a visitor's center (because it's the geographic center of the 48 contiguous states), a grain elevator (because farming) and that's about it. SMALL town America.

I understand that the show was shot in BC, in and around Vancouver and whatnot, and that it makes narrative sense for the town to be big enough that Sam and Dean could blend in a bit and just, have places to go, but it's still funny to me.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Three Liquor Permits Bring Woman Fine," The Province (Vancouver). September 15, 1943. Page 6. --- Mrs. A. S. McRae, 157 Powell, found guilty of having in her possession three liquor permits, was fined $25, or in default ten days, by Magistrate Mackenzie Matheson in Police Court today.

Two of the permits were in her own name and one in the name of a man.

[dotthings]

Started Fringe S2 rewatch. Yes I will continue to be unhinged.

In 2.01 Walter crying oh no!! He is a cause in all this but I still feel so bad for him there, he sincerely loves people and has grown to love Olivia like a daughter.

When I said Peter is a lot like Dean…yep stricken shell shocked face. Immediately starts drowning himself in hard liquor, seeing no point in any of this, loses all hope. Man just needs a win — and he gets it.

And they are both so happy when she’s ok. Their world brightens.

Olivia and Charlie. “You can fool the doctors, kiddo. You can’t fool me.” Charlieeeee “You’re going to be all right” <3</3

Olivia telling Peter he’s good at taking care of people he cares about

BE A BETTER MAN THAN YOUR FATHER

Just to help this mess with me more s2 switched to Vancouver filming and I keep recognizing spn locations.