#medieval holiday events

[andmade]

Discover the magic of Europe's medieval and Renaissance fairs this December! From the Provins Medieval Christmas Market to Tallinn's enchanting Town Hall Square, explore festive markets, historical reenactments, and unique handcrafted goods. Check out my blog post https://wix.to/KOC9lOI

[globalprotectionagencyllc]

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[hayatheauthor]

Hello! 😊 Do you have any advice on word-building? I can imagine multiple scenarios in my head, but I can't seem to put them into words. 🥹

First off hi sorry I took forever to write this blog! I hope it helps you get your ideas onto paper <3

Worldbuilding is the backbone of any compelling story, especially in genres like fantasy, science fiction, and historical fiction. Crafting a believable, immersive world can captivate your readers and provide a solid foundation for your narrative. In this guide, I’ll walk you through the essential steps to create a vivid and engaging world for your story.

Understanding Worldbuilding

Worldbuilding involves creating a complete, fictional universe that serves as the setting for your story. This process includes developing geography, cultures, history, politics, and even the rules of nature and magic (if applicable). The goal is to make your world feel as real and intricate as the characters who inhabit it.

Starting with the Basics

Define the Genre and Tone

Consider the genre of your story. A high-fantasy world will have different requirements than a dystopian future or a historical setting. The tone—whether it's dark and gritty or light and whimsical—will also influence your worldbuilding decisions.

Establish the Setting

Start with the physical world. Sketch out maps, outline the geography, and decide on key locations where your story will unfold. Think about the climate, natural resources, and the flora and fauna that inhabit this world.

Develop a History

Create a backstory for your world. Major events, wars, discoveries, and cultural shifts shape the present-day setting. A rich history can add depth and realism, influencing characters’ beliefs and motivations.

Building Cultures and Societies

Craft Unique Cultures

Think about the various cultures in your world. What are their customs, traditions, and social norms? How do they dress, what languages do they speak, and what religions do they follow? Diverse and well-thought-out cultures can add layers to your narrative.

Political Systems and Power Structures

Define the political landscape. Who holds power, and how is it distributed? Are there monarchies, democracies, or tribal councils? Consider the relationships between different nations or groups and the potential for conflict.

Economics and Resources

Understand the economy of your world. What resources are abundant or scarce? How do people trade, and what currencies do they use? The distribution of resources can drive plot points and character motivations.

Crafting Magic and Technology

Magic Systems

If your world includes magic, establish clear rules and limitations. What are the sources of magic? Who can use it, and how? Consistent magic systems prevent plot holes and maintain suspension of disbelief.

Technology Levels

Consider the technological advancements in your world. Are they using medieval weapons, steampunk machinery, or advanced futuristic gadgets? The level of technology can influence daily life, warfare, and exploration.

Time and Place

Historical Context

Establish the timeline of your world. Is it set in the past, present, or future? Consider historical events that have shaped the current state of the world. How have these events influenced societal development and cultural evolution?

Daily Life and Schedules

Describe the daily routines of your characters. What does a typical day look like for different social classes or cultures? Consider work hours, leisure activities, and societal expectations. The pace of life can vary greatly depending on technological advancements and cultural norms.

Timekeeping and Calendars

Develop a system of timekeeping and calendars. Are there specific seasons, festivals, or holidays that are significant? How do people measure time—by the sun, moon, or a mechanical clock? Unique timekeeping methods can add depth and authenticity to your world.

Clothing and Fashion

Cultural Significance

Explore how clothing reflects cultural identity, status, and occupation. Different regions and social groups might have distinct styles, fabrics, and accessories. What materials are commonly used, and how are garments crafted?

Fashion Trends

Consider the evolution of fashion in your world. What are the current trends, and how do they vary across different societies? Fashion can be influenced by historical events, climate, and interactions with other cultures.

Practicality and Symbolism

Think about the practicality of clothing in your world’s environment. How does the climate affect what people wear? Additionally, consider any symbolic meanings attached to certain garments or accessories. For instance, specific colors or patterns might denote rank or allegiance.

Religion and Beliefs

Pantheon and Deities

Create a pantheon of gods or a single deity, depending on your world’s religious structure. What are their characteristics, domains, and myths? How do they interact with mortals, if at all?

Rituals and Practices

Detail the religious rituals and daily practices of your world’s inhabitants. Consider ceremonies, festivals, and rites of passage. How do these practices influence daily life and societal norms?

Religious Institutions

Define the structure and influence of religious institutions. Are there temples, churches, or shrines? What roles do priests, shamans, or other religious figures play in society? The power dynamics between religious and secular authorities can add layers to your worldbuilding.

Languages and Communication

Linguistic Diversity

Develop the languages spoken in your world. Are there multiple languages or dialects? Consider the history of these languages and how they evolved. Language can be a powerful tool to convey cultural diversity and conflict.

Writing Systems

Design writing systems and scripts used for communication. Are there ancient texts or runes with special significance? How do literacy rates vary among different social classes and regions?

Non-Verbal Communication

Explore other forms of communication, such as body language, sign language, or symbolic gestures. How do people convey messages in situations where spoken language is impractical? These non-verbal methods can add depth and realism to your interactions.

Integrating Worldbuilding into Your Story

Show, Don’t Tell

Instead of dumping information on your readers, reveal your world organically through the narrative. Use dialogue, actions, and descriptions to weave worldbuilding details seamlessly into the story.

Character Perspectives

Different characters will experience and interpret your world in unique ways. Use their perspectives to highlight various aspects of your world, making it richer and more complex.

Consistency and Continuity

Maintain consistency in your world’s rules and details. Keep track of your worldbuilding elements to avoid contradictions and ensure a cohesive narrative.

Worldbuilding Tools and Resources

Maps and Diagrams

Create visual aids like maps, family trees, and diagrams to help you keep track of your world’s layout and relationships. Tools like Inkarnate or Wonderdraft can be helpful for map-making.

Worldbuilding Bibles

Maintain a worldbuilding bible—a document where you compile all your world’s details. This can include notes on geography, history, cultures, and more. It’s a valuable reference as you write and develop your story.

Inspiration from Real World and Fiction

Draw inspiration from real-world cultures, histories, and landscapes. Similarly, reading widely in your genre can provide insights into effective worldbuilding techniques.

Final Thoughts

Worldbuilding is a rewarding yet challenging aspect of storytelling. It requires imagination, attention to detail, and a deep understanding of your narrative’s needs. By following this comprehensive guide, you can create a vibrant, believable world that will captivate your readers and enhance your storytelling.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

the upper hand.

*or some things just never change. bruce's yaoi hand of justice will reach you anywhere, jonathan *

(i’m as energy drained as a squeezed lemon, but here it is. my latest art baby. i’m actually kinda surprised with how much i end up loving this set, considering that while the second art was barely changed from the sketches phase, the first one went through a lot of rearranging. it kinda looked like a butt for a bit there, but somehow [makes a vague gesture] it turned into smth that i actually like. it’s prob my best art of aa!scarecrow so far. it’s hard for me to tell, but i really love how he came out kinda cute vs scary ass bitch, he was in the beginning. it’s the power of bruce’s hand entering the picture, i guess. it domesticates the wild scarecrow.

but ah anyways, as it can be gathered from the 'title', the main idea is that certain things can change, when it comes to bruce an’ jon, but some will always remain the same. like, bruce always being there to catch jonathan in the end of the day. even if i wanted to play with emphasis on it being more playful an’ less violent in arkham asylum set up vs arkham knight. in the first art, bruce pretty much reaching out toward jon, while hallucinating an’ trippin balls, so that’s why jon is kinda in a ‘window’. somehow, the bat sense his presence, even if he sees dozens of other things too. him lightly tugging on scarecrow’s noose is a foreplay, before he will rougly yank on it, bringing jon closer to an’ make him ‘regret’ playin’ his games again. you are free to imagine what exactly this means for yourself. i personally seeing some touchy-feely times.

now, with slightly opposite mood, the second art takes place after the events of arkham knight. or well, toward the end of it, where the victory is almost bitter in a sense. for quite a few reasons. but even with this lingering wrongness, jonathan is defeated an’ scared, an’ then fall down all spread an' ‘sexy’. for no reason. in a way, he continues the tradition of aa!scarecrow an’ being a indecent without really knowing it. i mean, he doesn’t ran around half-naked, but he's exposes his ankles an' fingers. if they lived in medieval time, that’s basically be vulgare of him [shakes head] honestly, what a tramp you are, jon. also bruce's gloved hand around naked ankle ... goddamn. we really can’t keep it pg level, can we? but if seriously, i like to think about difference in both bruces an' how it translates into the way he gripes / grabs crane. more careful the first time an' literal manhandling the second. slightly upgraded mentality. or well, mental instability, more so.

you can slo say that this whole perspective bit was inspired by arkham shadows *even if i’m yet to watch it, i’m saving it for my holidays*, but i thought that it’ll be fun to imagine how bruce sees jonathan. bc he kinda would see him from some awkward angles at times. 'i'm the night. i'm justice. i'm batman' all while jonathan does his erogenous goblin fall lol.)

[qqueenofhades]

Man, the Russia/Ukraine war has led to a lot of terrible takes from far leftists. I have a mutual from Brazil, a self identified socialist, who is convinced that Ukraine is full of nazis. While they don't support Russia, they questioned why they have to be "pro-Ukraine" or "pro-Russia". They call Ukraine a "nazi hole" but call Russia merely "fascist". Am I wrong in thinking that they've been influenced by Russian propaganda? I know Ukraine does have a nazi/far right problem, but so does the US? And most European countries? idk they strongly hate the US/US government too, and it seems to create some kind of brainrot. at least they don't blindly support China or Russia like tankies do (nor identify with them), but it's still frustrating to take a neutral position on a pretty black and white situation.

I don't want to confront them 1) cause I'm not the type to argue over serious things like this and this may break our long friendship and 2) I'm not super educated on the nazi situation in Ukraine.

Anyway thank you for letting me rant in your inbox.

Yes, Russia has specifically focused its propaganda efforts on Latin America, Africa, and other regions that HAVE suffered from Western/European/American imperialism and are thus predisposed to take the worst view of them/believe that this situation is their fault somehow. This is similar to what the USSR did in newly postcolonial Africa in the 1960s and 1970s, positing themselves as offering the shared hand of communist brotherhood from Western oppressors. Because of more recent events like the invasion of Iraq, which was fully as unjustified as the invasion of Ukraine, Russian propagandists and their eager tankie/leftist foot soldiers have also got a lot of mileage out of "whataboutism." This is likewise an old Soviet propaganda technique designed to deflect any criticism of the actual situation by disingenuously asking "what about this other one!!!"

Likewise, the idea that Ukraine has a "Nazi problem" is itself propaganda. In the last election, far-right/Nazi-identified parties won barely 2% of the vote and AFAIK, no seats at all in the Verkhovna Rada (Ukrainian parliament). This is far lower than the nearly half of the USA voting for the far-right/Nazi-sympathetic Republican Party, and as noted, the far right elements in the UK and Europe. The idea that Ukraine is "full of Nazis" (with a Jewish president who just celebrated iftar with the Ukrainian Muslims/Crimean Tatars during Ramadan and instituted observance of Muslim holidays nationwide, very Nazi of him) is a line used by Russian propagandists to "justify" their attack and appeal to national memories of the Great Patriotic War (World War II) and the struggle against the Nazis, which is the central cultural grievance/memory in modern Russia. The Putin regime has referred to anyone they don't like, but especially the Ukrainians, as "Nazis" for a long time now, so it's supposedly their holy duty to kill them/commit ethnic cleansing/forcibly reunite the "fraternal" people of "Little Russia," as Ukraine has been called since the 17th century, with "Great Russia." And yeah, no.

Because the West and Europe has been pretty solidly on Ukraine's side, Russia has therefore cultivated countries like China, India, Brazil, etc, who have all suffered from Western interference and are looking to move into the first rank of global superpowers. This is, as noted, similar to the competing systems of influence built during the Cold War, but it also relies on much deeper Russian grievances that go back to the medieval era. Anybody who knows a thing about actual Russian history would therefore know that every single word it says about the Ukraine situation is a lie, but because that lie is useful for many other countries and fits into their own understanding of themselves, it is easy to repeat and act like it's a so-called superior moral position. This is also why US/American tankies so eagerly lap up Russian propaganda, because it plays into their moral sense of themselves as far better than the rest of the West and "righteously" discovering that the West is responsible for all the evil in the world etc etc. While non-Westerners are just helpless misunderstood puppets with no real agency or ability to make complex choices. This totally makes sense!!!

[sleepygh0ulia]

. . . INTRODUCING MY HOGWARTS DR ! (heavily ib Lyrashifts)

About This dr takes place in 2024 (cs that medieval shit is for the birds) the wizarding world is a lot more modern, having cell phones, laptops, regular pencils and paper, etc etc.

🎀 [ABOUT ME ! ]

Name: Evangeline Eileen Prince

Nationality: American

Birthplace: Olney, Maryland

Languages: English, French, Spanish

Blood Status: Pureblood

House: Slytherin & Horned Serpent

Face claim:

🎀 [BACKSTORY ! ]

My biological parents are Severus and my bio mom Zariah, but when I was about 5 months old, they got a divorce. Severus moved back to the U.K, and me and my mom stayed in the U.S. When I was 3, she got remarried to my now step-dad Claude, and the year after that, they had my half-brother, Claude. (we call him jj) I lived in the states, 0 contact with Severus until I was 11. On my 11th birthday my mom told me that Severus always wanted to be in my life, and that she was the one pushing him away because she was afraid of me going to live with him. She gave me his phone number, and although it was awkward at first, I began to warm up to him more and more. He taught me a lot about potions and DADA, lowk he’s the only reason I passed my classes at Ivermourny. I started visiting him during breaks to make up for lost times. At the end of my 3rd year at Ivermourny, I asked my mom if I could go to Hogwarts, and live with Severus for the rest of my schooling, and visit her on holidays. She blew up at me and it was the longest we had gone without talking to each other, but after a month and a half of Claude trying to convince her, she finally gave in. She and Claude met with Severus in person, a month before term, and decided on ground rules and communication, and finally got everything settled. I stay with Severus the month before school starts to get robes and get accustomed to muggle and magical England.

🎀 [WARDROBE ! ]

I’ve kinda got a similar style to Momo from MHA, rich girl vibes, skirts and long sleeve shirts with mary jane’s, a nice bag, and cutesy leg warmers.

🎀 [LIFE AT HOGWARTS ! ]

Dorms: Students are 4 to a dorm, which includes a bed, a desk, a closet, 2 mini fridges, and 2 bathrooms. Once a student is assigned a dorm, the dorms decorate themselves to fit those students tastes. You and your dormmates also choose a password for your specific dorm room. Dorms are split in half, separated by gender, and in alphabetical order. All students are to be in a dorm by 11PM, and failure to do so will result in a 3 day detention at minimum. Girls and boys are allowed to be in each others dorms, but only with the permission of all students housed in said dorm room, a prefect, and the head of house. Different house sleepovers are also allowed but again with permission from both house heads, and same gender only.

Extracurriculars:

• Band

• Cheer team

• Student Council

• Art Club

• Gardening Club

• Care of Magical Creatures Club

• Astronomy Club

• Mythology Club

Events:

• An annual Christmas ball (except for the years we host the triwizard tourny)

• Bonfire to kick off the quidditch season

• Annual trips to another European country

• Halloween Masquerade ball

• The house elves put small buckets of candy in everyone’s dorm room on Halloween morning

🎀 [OTHER ! ]

Best friends: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Roselynn Price, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Luna Lovegood

S/O: Alejandro Garcia

Pets: My pookie pie Binx

Happy shifting and manifesting!!

[laurenairay]

I need your hands on me, sweet relief - Q. Hughes

Summary: After another disappointing season, Quinn Hughes needs a change of scenery. Renée Moreau is just trying to figure her life out.

Also known as, the Summer in Provence.

Words: 12k

Warnings: angst, fluff, self-doubt, some bad language, hinted intimacy

A/N: Quinn has really sunk his hooks into me this off-season so I knew I had to write something for him! Provence is on my list of places to visit, so this research was really fun to do.

Title from Pretty Please, by Dua Lipa

~~~

Quinn was tired. No, he was exhausted. Every year it had been the same thing – play so hard all season, push his body to the limits, his team forcing themselves to breaking point, only to never make it into the playoffs. With the Canucks not reaching the playoffs for eight years in a row now, despite him only being on the team for half of that, the pressure was starting to take its toll.

He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

Something needed to change, anything, before the repeated devastation broke him entirely. It felt stupid being only 23 years old and feeling so weary, but he had to do something. He had to do something to break himself out of this cycle, mentally if nothing else. If nothing changed within him, how could he expect anything to change for the team?

By the time locker clean-out day came around, Quinn was at the end of his tether. It wasn’t uncharacteristic of him to stay quiet, he knew that, so he escaped from half-hearted conversation with a promise to attend one last team event, a goodbye barbecue, before everyone went their own ways for the summer. By the time he’d driven himself home to shower off the stink of failure, Quinn had formed a vague plan for what he wanted to do.

He was going to go on vacation. By himself. For at least two weeks.

It was completely out of his comfort zone, completely different to his usual summer routine, but the more he thought about it as he scrubbed the shampoo out of his hair, the more he was convinced. He needed a break. He needed a holiday. Now, he just needed to figure out where.

Somewhere in Canada? No, that was the last thing he needed after the crash of the season. Again. Somewhere in the US? Even more of a no, with the playoffs in full swing. So somewhere abroad? Maybe…somewhere in Europe? The continent was big enough for him to hide in for a couple of weeks right?

The only thing he could think of to do was to pull up a map of Europe on his laptop the moment he got out the shower, close his eyes and have a pointed finger land on a country. Surely he could narrow it down from there, even as dumb as he felt picking a destination this way in the first place. At this point he couldn’t back out though, the desperation fuelling him, so Quinn followed his ridiculous plan – he pulled up the map, closed his eyes, took a deep breath…and placed his finger on the screen.

France.

Okay, France was good. It was a good option, plenty of different cities all across the country. One of them would work for him to unwind in, right? Somehow, he already felt lighter, just from knowing he had a vague destination. Was it really this easy? Why had he not done this before?

Before he knew it, he was spiralling down a rabbit hole of articles - ‘places to visit in France’, ‘3 months backpacking across Europe – must-see sights’, ‘gap year in France’ to name a few – and his eyes kept catching on a name. Provence. And the more he looked into the region, the more he fell in love with its beauty; it had everything from wine tasting to lavender fields to historical towns, and he could almost guarantee that no-one would know who he was. Perfect. Narrowing things down from Europe to France to Provence...and he eventually settled on an ancient medieval town right on the river Rhône, called Avignon. It looked so idyllic, and full of things to do (as well as close distance to plenty of other things to do). Something in his bones was telling him this was the place. This was it, the place where he could disappear to for two weeks to reset and refresh from the season.

And it wasn’t hard to get to either – it almost felt a little too easy. Quinn wasn’t used to things just falling into his lap like this, like it was too good to be true. A 13-hour flight from Detroit to Lyon, and then an hour by train from Lyon to Avignon? And a pretty little apartment in the centre of Avignon for far less than he’d been expecting? It was all there in front of him, timings and pricings included – could he really just book it and disappear for a couple of weeks?

What was holding him back?

Before he could chicken out, Quinn filled in his payment details for the flights, clicking through all the submission pages until a booking confirmation was in front of him, and he let out a shaky breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. There was no going back now. He quickly booked the apartment too, making sure the dates and timings lined up, and once he had that confirmation page in front of him, he found himself laughing a little incredulously.

He'd done it. He’d really done it. He was going to Avignon in Provence, France, for the first two weeks of May and there was nothing that was going to stop him.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Quinn felt free.

~~~

It took Quinn all of his willpower not to spill his plans to his family while he waited out the month before his trip arrived, not telling any of the Canucks either at the end of season barbecue. It helped that Jack (and his team) were in the first round of the playoffs and thriving, easy to pour his focus into supporting his brother there, his family’s full attention on his little brother just as he deserved.

There was just something in his gut telling him to keep quiet. He told himself it was because he didn’t want to distract from Jack’s playoffs, but he knew deep down that he just didn’t want anyone to worry. Because they would. Taking a trip so far away just to change things up? No-one would understand. They’d just fuss and stress and make Quinn feel worse than he already did – so he just didn’t say anything. Maybe it was a little selfish, but he didn’t care.

After a hockey season like he’d had, he just didn’t care.

It was easy enough to pack a suitcase without anyone noticing either, easy enough to have it waiting by his bedroom door with his passport tucked into a rucksack along with a couple of books he’d been meaning to read for a while, easy enough to call a taxi to take him to Detroit airport early in the morning before anyone in the house was awake.

It wasn’t until that he’d checked in and dropped off his suitcase, until he’d walked through security and gotten himself a much-needed coffee, that he pulled out his phone and opened up his family group chat.

From: Quinn Just wanted to let you all know that I’m heading off to France for a vacation. I’ll be gone for two weeks. Best of luck in the second round of the playoffs Jacky!

From: Luke Wait, what? Tell me you’re joking. Mom did you know?

With that, he put his phone on airplane mode, not daring to wait for any more messages to come through. The fact that Luke was awake this early was bad enough. It was the coward’s way out, he knew that, but at least he told them all, right?

With a sigh, Quinn tucked his phone into his rucksack, alongside the travel adapter for his charging cable he’d had to buy moments ago, and pulled out one of his books, sinking deeper into his chair. Only 30 minutes until his flight would be called – the sooner the better.

The rest of Quinn’s journey faded into a blur. Going to the gate. Boarding the plane. Taking off. Eating. Watching a movie. Eating again. Reading his book. Taking a nap. One final snack before landing. Waiting for his suitcase. The train journey to Avignon. The taxi to his apartment, not being awake enough to do anything other than show the driver the address he’d saved on his phone.

By the time Quinn collected the key from the dropbox and stumbled into the apartment, it was all he could do to dump his suitcase in the living room and kick off his clothes ahead of faceplanting into the bed, jet lag dragging him down into a deep sleep with a smile on his face.

He’d made it to France. Provence. Avignon. He could finally rest.

~~~

Renée Moreau felt like she was at a standstill. She’d followed all the steps in the playbook – worked hard in high school, gone to college, graduated with a degree in Communications from the University of Ottawa – but now she was at a loss. There was no rulebook for what to do when you reach adulthood, other than the societal expectations to get a job, settle down, get married, have a family. But she was only 23 years old and single as hell – there would be no marriage and babies happening any time soon, of that she was certain, and as for getting a job? She just didn’t know what she wanted. She didn’t know what would make her happy.

She was at a standstill. She was lost.

Sure, Renée had worked a couple of odd temp jobs after coming home to Montreal but nothing that resonated with her, much to her parents’ dismay. She loved them – truly she did – but their expectations for her future didn’t line up with her own in her current stage in life, and she knew that seeing her get more and more run down with each job that didn’t feel right only made things harder. It got to the point, after 9 months, where her parents suggested that they could pay for her to take a three-month travel break to Europe on the condition that she would work for her father’s company when she returned. It felt like an easy way out, something she’d desperately tried to avoid…but after the past 9 months, she knew she needed to do something.

So she’d agreed, much to her parents’ elation.

Renée decided on France, in the end. It was her first language after all, having grown up in Ville-Marie in Montreal, and after a bit of serious research with her parents she’d made a rough plan, starting with Paris.

Her parents paid for her 90-day Schengen visa, bought her plane tickets and paid for all her accommodation as belated graduation presents and her birthday present combined, but she would pay for all food and excursions & activities out of her savings from the various jobs she’d worked since graduating. She knew she was privileged, more so than a lot of her friends, let alone the strangers she’d met on her travels, so she knew she couldn’t take her time away for granted.

Like most things, it turned out her parents were right. The trip away, travelling around France, was exactly what she needed.

For her first month, March, she travelled around exclusively by trains. Her first full week was spent in Paris, the perfect start to her trip to soak in all the culture and history, and then after that she went to Rennes for five days, then Poitiers for five days, then Saint-Jean for five days, and finally Bordeaux for a full week.

In the last few days of March, Renée hired a car to drive to Lyon, staying there for a full week to take her into April, and then on to Toulouse for five days. Next, she drove down to the southern coast, visiting Narbonne for three days, Beziers for three days, Montpellier for five days, Marseille for five days, and Nice for five days, before finally heading to Avignon. Within her first two days there, she’d quickly fallen in love with the medieval town, so had decided to stay for her entire last month. Her parents found her an apartment that would let her stay for the full 30 days, so while she was based in Avignon, she kept that hire car and planned to travel around to different places within Provence, to get the full experience.

It was hard to believe she only had one month left before she had to head home to Montreal.

Still, she knew there was something different about Avignon, something that drew her in, something that was telling her to spend her time there – so she was following her gut, just waiting for the universe to give her a sign.

And on the first of May, everything changed.

Renée was on her way back up to her apartment after picking up a few breakfast items from the local bakery, the old lady Vivienne who ran the place having given her a couple extra croissants with a sweet smile, only to see a stranger walking down the corridor towards her. He was tall, maybe 5ft 10, with fairly broad shoulders and toned arms. His dark hair was fluffy and unkempt, his pale skin a little unnatural with its purple bags under his eyes, and he barely looked conscious. Out of instinct, she held her bag a little tighter to her chest, even though he looked a little lost rather than intimidating. But still…she simply smiled politely, hoping that this wouldn’t end badly.

“Good morning. Are you new to the building?”

The man blinked sleepily at her, silent for a moment, before he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak much French. Do you speak English?”

She huffed out a laugh, her nerves fading a little. American. She could recognise the accent easily, different from her own French-Canadian, even if he was slightly slurred with sleep. “I do speak English. Are you…lost?”

He looked confused for a moment. “No?”

“I originally asked if you are new to the building,” she added.

“Oh, yes, I rented out that apartment for two weeks. Only arrived last night and I am super jetlagged, so I’m sorry if I’m a little loopy?” he said, smiling sheepishly.

Bless his heart. That explained a lot.

“I’m Renée, I’m staying in the apartment next door,” she said, holding her hand out.

He smiled warmly at her as he shook her offered hand, a sweetness that sent unexpected butterflies roaring through her stomach.

“Quinn. Sorry if I startled you. I promise I’m not this weird when I’m fully functioning,” he said, still smiling.

She couldn’t help but laugh at his self-deprecation, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry about it. I just want to check though…are you heading out to get breakfast?”

“Uh, yeah, I was planning on it – why?” he asked, confused.

“Not a lot of stores in Avignon speak a lot of English, at least not near us right now, so you might want to wait to venture out until you’re properly awake,” she teased.

Quinn blushed slightly, even as he groaned.

“Ah shit, I didn’t think of that,” he admitted, his smile shifting to a wry one.

She hesitated for a moment, before steeling herself. If her trip across France in the past two months had told her anything, it was to follow her gut instincts.

“Do you want to come into my apartment for breakfast? I have extra croissants, a bunch of different jams, and plenty of orange juice?” she offered.

His lips parted in surprise before his cheeks coloured again. Interesting. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she mused, nodding, “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t, and we’re going to be neighbours for a little while at least, right?”

“Right.”

Renée opened her front door, Quinn following her in, closing the door behind himself gently. She smiled to herself as he curiously took in the apartment, probably no different than his other than the positioning of furniture, so she left him to look around while she unloaded four croissants from the bag and pulled out a few options of jam as well as the fresh butter in the butter dish she’d bought (that was definitely coming home with her). She gestured wordlessly for Quinn to sit at the breakfast island as she started loading the counter space in front of him, pulling out two plates, a butter knife as well as a few jam knives, and then finally the orange juice and a couple of glasses. It wasn’t much, nor had she entertained anyone other than herself in the couple days she’d been in Avignon, but it was perfect for her.

“Please dig in. It’s humble but it’s tasty, I promise,” Renée said, smiling.

Quinn just nodded shyly, reaching for a croissant. She tried not to watch him as she prepared her own breakfast, but it was hard not to enjoy the pure joy on his face at his face bite of buttery croissant, her smile catching his attention.

“Sorry, it’s just so good,” he mumbled.

“Definitely don’t apologise,” she laughed, shaking her head, “I’m sure I made the same face when I had my first croissant here. And if you think this is good – wait until you try the fresh bread. You’ll never eat processed cut loaves back home again.”

Quinn just groaned, taking another bite, making her laugh softly. She could appreciate a guy who appreciated good food.

“I think I’m going to really enjoy staying here for two weeks,” he finally said, after he’d eaten one half of his croissant.

“Two weeks huh? That’s a pretty decent amount of time to spend. What’s brought you out here then?” she asked.

Sue her, but she was curious. The exhaustion wasn’t just showing in his body – it was in his eyes too. Was he running from something?

“It’s just been a really hard year. With work, mostly. I haven’t had a proper break and I really needed one, so I pointed to a map, chose France, and spiralled down an internet rabbit hole until I settled on Avignon. It seemed like a good place to unwind and rest, at least for a couple of weeks. One of my best friends is getting married in July, so I wanted to be in a better place, mentally at least, before then,” he explained.

That definitely wasn’t the whole story, she could tell, but it was more than enough to explain the basics at least. She could understand wanting to get away from everything to reset at least.

“I’m sorry that everything’s been really difficult, but I promise you that Avignon is a great place for a vacation break. I haven’t been here long but I’m already feeling great,” she said firmly.

“Well if it’s any different than Vancouver, then I’ll be happy,” he mused.

Vancouver?

She could’ve sworn his accent was American.

Oh wait.

Oh.

Quinn.

Vancouver.

The year had been really hard for him.

You can take a girl out of Canada but you can’t take Canada out of the girl. She knew exactly who he was – Quinn Hughes, star defenceman of the Vancouver Canucks. How could she not have realised who he was?

But clearly, he was in Avignon to escape everything, to take a break from his real life and rest. She couldn’t tell him that she knew who he was, at least not right now. He deserved a little time at least to recover from the Canucks terrible season, and she could absolutely give that to him.

“Do you want me to show you around Avignon today and tomorrow? Show you the basics of our little neighbourhood like groceries and coffee shops and restaurants, as well as the tourist sites?”

“Oh I couldn’t impose,” he said quickly.

“Quinn, I’m offering because I’m happy to, I promise. Besides, you said you don’t speak much French and you might need the help, at least for the local parts,” she said, teasing a little at the end.

He blushed lightly before huffing out a laugh. “Alright, if you’re sure. I would love the guide help.”

“Great, it’s a plan! Now, please have another croissant and try another jam flavour. You won’t regret it.”

~~~

For the rest of his first day in Avignon, Quinn blearily followed Renée around, letting her help him pick up basic groceries to get him started as well as heading to a coffee shop to clear some of the fuzziness out of his head. They sat and talked for hours at the coffee shop, sitting outside on the edge of a square, just letting the sights and sounds flow over him, listening to Renée’s interesting stories about the neighbourhood.

He didn’t know if it was still the jetlag or not, but the fact that a girl as beautiful as her was paying attention to him was exactly what he needed in that moment. Her blonde curls were bouncy and shined like liquid gold in the midday sun. Her big brown eyes were almost doll-like, captivating and full of emotion. Her smile was entrancing, her laugh was like music to his ears, and she had curves for days that were simply mouthwatering. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had captured his attention like this, especially not this quickly, but after all this season had been, to have this girl willing to spend time with him? It was everything.

Quinn was still suffering with jetlag pretty badly though, which Renée noticed and clearly took pity on him for, because she kept the rest of their day pretty light, mostly just walking him around the neighbourhood, showing him roughly where the main sights were ahead of a bigger day tomorrow. Which…she still wanted to spend time with him after a day of him being pretty useless other than happily basking in her conversation? Mind blowing.

The little local restaurant that she’d taken him to that night was just the cherry on top of an incredible first day.

Just like she’d promised, Renée had ramped up activities for his second day in Avignon. He’d put up a token protest at first, not wanting her to waste time with him when she had her own vacation to enjoy, but she’d insisted that she wanted to do the touristy things too. That, and he could ‘pay her back’ for translating everything by taking some cute photos of her rather than her having to rely on selfies to send to her family.

He'd blushed, obviously, but agreed quickly. It was hardly a hardship to take a few photos of her, especially when they would all be cute.

Renée ended up taking the two of them on a basic tour of some of the main sights on Avignon. The first being the Palais des Papes fortress, which he’d read about before his trip and was actually excited to explore, even more so when Renée told him that on summer evenings there was an impressive light show there that explained the history of Avignon (which the two of them ended up attending that very evening after dinner in the little local restaurant again, with a flask of spiked hot chocolate). She’d also taken him to the Pont d’Avignon, a beautiful medieval bridge where only four arches survived. After stopping for lunch in a little café, the two of them had wandered around the flower market and farmer’s market at Place des Carmes – not buying anything but just taking in the sights and people watching, soaking in the atmosphere.

In the afternoon, she’d driven the two of them 30 minutes away to visit the Roman Pont du Gard – a UNESCO World Heritage site for a beautiful ancient Roman aqueduct bridge, where he’d taken way too many photos…and Renée had even taken a couple of him in various poses.

For the memories, she’d insisted.

How could he refuse?

Day three found them a little more chilled out. Renée liked to keep a balance, apparently, of chilled days and packing in touristy activities, which Quinn was more than happy to indulge in if it meant spending more time with her. It felt a little silly to be focusing his time around someone he’d only just met, but there was just something about her. Something that made him want to spend time with her rather than isolating himself. And it wasn’t like he’d set out with much of a plan other than getting away from everything back home.

The main thing they did on his third day was walking around the flea market in Place des Carmes, the same place that the flower and farmer’s markets were in the day before, before sitting in the square afterwards in coffee shop to watch the world go by. It was exactly what he needed after the intense day that yesterday had been, and it just gave him more of an excuse to get to know her a little better, even volunteering a little information about himself as well. Not much, but still a little, enough to make her smile at least.

On their way back to their apartments, Renée had insisted on picking up groceries for dinner, promising to cook for him (which he was never going to say no to), as well as taking him in a couple of little trinket stores she’d found on her own first day, some of which he knew he’d be returning to for gifts to take back home. But that wasn’t something he was letting himself think about right now – home. Right now, all he wanted to do was focus on the beautiful girl next to him, so full of joy and wonder and excitement, soaking in her energy.

She’d cooked him a grilled fish dish, paired with sautéed vegetables and potatoes, inspired by one of the restaurants she’d eaten at in Marseille. It was incredible, the best fish he’d ever eaten and he wasn’t even exaggerating – she blushed all the same when he complimented her cooking though, brushing herself off as amateur. If he could pick up even a little of her sense of adventure, he knew he’d be all the better for it.

When they were sitting on her sofa, dishes rinsed and in the sink, both sipping on a glass of wine, Quinn felt like he’d been transported to another world. Finding peace and comfort this quickly on a trip that he’d booked on a whim? It was the last thing he’d been expecting.

“You know, you already look a little lighter,” Renée said, breaking their comfortable silence.

“I feel it. My…job really can be so stressful. I hadn’t realised it was this bad though,” he admitted.

Renée seemed to hesitate slightly before smiling. “I can imagine the hockey season is draining.”

The hockey season. She knew. Oh fuck, she knew who he was? He found himself freezing, no idea what his face was doing but it was enough for Renée to wince.

“I’m not French. At least, I’m not from France. I’m from Montreal, born and raised,” she admitted, nerves all over her face now, “I swear I’m not going to post on social media about you or even tell anyone about you. Your reasons for taking a break are yours and yours alone.”

Quinn let out a shaky breath, trying to smile but he clearly failed because Renée pulled out her phone with a determined look.

“Here, my Instagram. And I can show you facebook too. I don’t have whatever the hell twitter is now and I never have done. I haven’t posted about you and I won’t, I promise. I’m not lying,” she said firmly.

Quinn took the offered phone, scrolling a little through her Instagram posts, noting that there hadn’t been anything posted since they’d met three days ago. He still felt a little shaky but the fact that she went out of her way to prove to him, to reassure him…it helped, a little.

“Thank you for your honesty,” he murmured.

“I didn’t realise straight away. Not until you mentioned Vancouver,” she added.

Well that was something at least.

“I was so sure that no-one would recognise me this far away from home,” he said softly.

She winced again, before smiling sadly.

“If you want, we can go our separate ways and you don’t have to see me again for the whole two weeks you’re here. I don’t want to ruin your time away. That’s literally the last thing I want.”

The full two weeks without seeing her? Something about that sat badly in his stomach, sinking like a stone, and he found himself shaking his head.

“No. No I don’t want that. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, not judging me for being a hot mess, and I believe you when you say that you won’t tell anyone I’m here. My parents and brothers know I’m in France but that’s literally it. Anyone else that wants to know where I am can ask them,” Quinn explained, “I’m enjoying spending time with you, if you don’t mind spending it with me.”

“Alright, if you’re sure. Because I’m definitely enjoying spending time with you,” she said, her smile a little shy now.

For some reason, her shyness made his breath hitch in his chest, enough for him to need to cough it away.

“I’m sure. I’m pretty sure my French isn’t up to the task anyway,” he said, trying to shift the tone of conversation a little, to ease the tension he felt creeping up his neck.

Renée just laughed, making him blush slightly. That was better, even if it was at his expense.

“Your bakery order this morning wasn’t half bad! You’ll get there,” she teased, “Was there anything in particular that you wanted to see or do while you’re here?”

“The only thing I’d really read about that we haven’t seen is the lavender fields?” he suggested.

Renée grinned and nodded, making him smile. “There’s beautiful lavender fields in Sault that I was hoping to go to. Maybe we could go together?”

Quinn nodded in response, his body sinking into the sofa, releasing tension he hadn’t realised he was holding. She knew who he was...and the world hadn’t ended. She still wanted to spend time with him. He still got to spend time with her. Was this a dream? It felt like a dream.

“I definitely want to do a wine tour of some kind. There’s so many vineyards around here it would be silly not to. And I kind of wanted to do a day trip to Arles, maybe another to Aix-en-Provence, but there’s also the Musée de Petit Palais here in Avignon that I haven’t been to yet which is meant to be beautiful? It’s another UNESCO World Heritage Site, and I’m pretty sure you’d enjoy it too?”

Quinn just took another sip of his wine, allowing her enthusiastic words to wash over him. Whatever she wanted to do, he was here for it. And he couldn’t wait.

~~~

Renée felt like she was floating through a dream. She’d honestly expected Quinn to want nothing to do with her after she admitted knowing who he was, but the fact that he was still willing to spend time with her? To indulge her in all the things she wanted to visit just because he didn’t really have much of a plan himself? Well she was absolutely going to take advantage of that, if it meant spending a little more time with the cutest boy she’d ever met.

For day four of Quinn’s trip, she took him on a Rhône Valley wine tour, just as she’d promised, the two of the tasting all different wines including Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Rasteau, Gigondas, Vacqueyras, Cairanne, Tavel, Lirac, Visan, Sablet and Séguret, across four leading wine estates. It was a long day, long and so much fun, with only two couples joining them on the tour, so they’d had plenty of private time together to enjoy the day as well as pick up a couple of bottles to bring back to the apartment as well as a couple of bottles for home. The two of them had stumbled back to his apartment, barely remembering to pick up some bread and cheese to soak up some of the alcohol, which they’d decimated before passing out on his sofa.

Waking up on day five snuggled into Quinn’s side had been worth the hangover.

The two of them had agreed to keep the day as a quiet one, Renée having volunteered to go out to pick them up fresh bread and fruit and coffee after they’d both showered, spending most the morning reading in a comfortable silence before they ventured out for coffee in the same square as their first day, getting to know each other even more now that he could be more open with her. The two of them traed stories of ridiculous friends and hangovers of time past, before heading back to the little local restaurant they’d been to a couple of times already for dinner again, not wanting to break the happy chilled vibe they’d managed to curate over the day.

On day six, Quinn had surprised her with a trip out to the village of Gordes (with her driving, of course), to a spa day in the Airelles Spa. He’d apparently already booked all their treatments, paying the moment they arrived, and considering how fancy the place was, Renée couldn’t even imagine how much money he’d spent on her. But he’d stayed firm in his decision, a streak of confidence that sent her heartbeat fluttering just that little bit faster. It was a side of him she hadn’t seen before, but if he wanted to treat her to a day of relaxation, she wasn’t going to complain.

Alongside the typical swimming pool and steam room, both of them had a neck, shoulders and scalp massage, followed by a thermal mud mineral wrap, and finishing off with a ‘golden glow’ facial. It was honestly the most relaxed Renée had ever felt, but the fact that she did all of this alongside Quinn? With him looking like years of stress had been lifted off of him? She barely had the words to describe it. It didn’t help that he spent the day in bathing shorts and her in a one-piece swimming costume – his toned torso was distracting enough. The spa itself wasn’t that busy at all, so the two of them had essentially the whole place to themselves most the time, and Renée felt like she’d grown closer to him throughout the day more than she ever had to any friend, let alone any guy. It was a personal intimacy, to spend such time in platonic closeness, leaving her a bit overwhelmed with the whole situation, if she was being honest.

Quinn’s pleased smile while they had an early dinner in the village of Gordes kept her quiet though. If he was happy, she was happy.

It was on day seven that everything changed.

The two of them had strolled along the Rhône river in the morning with a cup of coffee each, taking in the scenery and taking their time, heading to the jardin du Rocher des Doms for a picnic. Quinn had brought along one of their bottles of wine from their wine tour, and they’d picked up a second bottle alongside some water, fresh bread, sharp cheese, grapes and strawberries, as well as a couple of chocolate studded pastries from the bakery, all carefully placed into Quinn’s rucksack with a blanket from Renée’s sofa. The two of them settled on a vacant patch of grass away from most other groups, giving them the illusion of privacy, Quinn pouring them a glass of their wine before raising his glass in a toast.

“To the most amazing holiday of my life. To meeting an amazing new friend. To another week of this bliss.”

Renée blushed lightly but clinked her glass against his, taking a sip of the wine that instantly sent her back to the day of their tour with its smooth taste. She cleared her throat, shaking her head to bring her back to the present, smiling at Quinn’s confused look.

“It’s nothing. Shall we eat?”

And the two of them did, a bite at a time, soft bread with sharp cheese with refreshing grapes, saving the strawberries and pastries for dessert, talking for the several hours it took them to finish all the food while they basked in the sunshine and light breeze, long enough to finish both bottles of wine as well. Long enough that Renée felt a little light-headed from the alcohol and the company, Quinn’s soft sweet eyes making her head swirl.

She must’ve stayed silent, caught in his gaze, for long enough that Quinn stopped talking too, staring at her eyes in confusion before his gaze flicked down to her mouth. Her breath hitched in her throat, Quinn’s lips parting in a shaky breath…before he leaned over and kissed her, a gentle hand cupping her face.

And then he quickly pulled away, eyes wide in a panic.

“Fuck, Renée, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…well, I did, but-”

Renée pressed a finger to his lips to stop his rambling, let out a shaky breath of her own. Quinn just froze, eyes still wide in panic, not daring to move.

“You kissed me. Why?” she managed to say, before removing her finger, feeling the phantom presence of his lips on her skin.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips before he huffed out a laugh.

“Because I wanted to? Because you’re beautiful and hilarious and so cool and it seemed like a good idea at the time?”

Oh wow. That…wasn’t what she was expecting. He thought she was beautiful?

“You think I’m beautiful?” she murmured.

“Yeah, I do.”

It was all Renée could do to lean forward and kiss him again. Quinn made a soft noise of surprise but didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, his hand sliding across her cheek to cup her cheek again. The kisses stayed soft and slow and sweet, only a hint of tongue, but they sent electricity thrumming through Renée’s veins all the same. Never had such an innocent embrace set her heart racing like this. Never. Never had such a sweet boy kissed her so sweetly.

She didn’t know how long they spent kissing, time losing all meaning as she lost herself in his lips, both of them breathless by the time she pulled away.

“Wow,” was all she could murmur, Quinn’s lips looking as swollen as hers felt.

Quinn just laughed, breathless and carefree, making her dart forward to press one last lingering kiss to his lips, earning a soft moan of protest from him when she sat backwards.

“We could, um…”

She trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck, feeling uncharacteristically awkward. He just smiled softly at her.

“We could what?” he prompted.

Her cheeks flushed with a light blush, feeling bold with her thoughts.

“I really liked kissing you. And I know we’ve only known each other a week…but we could fool around no strings for your last week here? There’s no harm in it, right? A little summer vacation fling?”

The moment the words left her lips, she felt mortified. She’d never even thought about doing something like this before, let alone suggesting it, and the fact that Quinn looked stunned didn’t help her feel any better about acting like a floozy.

“Yes.”

His breathy confirmation brought her out of her thoughts, and a smile spread across her face before she could stop herself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Quinn nodded, smiling back at her. “You’re right, there’s no harm in it. I really liked kissing you too.”

Well that was all she needed to hear. Renée leaned forward again, sliding her hand into his hair this time, letting the feeling of his curls between her fingers ground her as she kissed him slowly, unable to stop herself smiling as Quinn kissed her back with a happy sigh.

And that was how they spent the rest of their afternoon, shifting between slow kisses and sweet conversation, sipping the water they’d brought along too, before they eventually headed back to their apartments, changing quickly before heading out to dinner in the little local restaurant they’d been to most nights now, holding hands the entire walk. It felt a little surreal, if she was being honest, that a guy as cute as Quinn was happy to fool around with her when he could have anyone else he wanted. But there was no way she was taking back her crazy proposition now, not if she could have just a little bit of him before he left in seven days.

Spending a couple of hours making out on his sofa before she went back to her own apartment to sleep was the perfect way to end a perfect day.

~~~

He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Not when she left his apartment last night after they made out for hours on his sofa, soft and sweet shifting to heated and intense. Not when he tried to sleep but couldn’t get the thought of the way her body felt straddling his waist, his hands desperate to move from where he’d planted them on her waist. Not when he woke up hard as a rock, needing no more than a few moments and a gasp of her name before he was dizzy all over again.

The moment that Renée’s surprising suggestion had reached his ears, he’d felt like he was in an alternative dimension. Things like this didn’t happen to him. Not in real life. Not to him.

And yet here he was, sitting beside her while she drove them out to Arles for a day trip, lips still buzzing where she’d kissed him good morning and passed him a cup of fresh coffee.

But it wasn’t just the physical aspects of it all that was consuming him, as incredible as it all was. He was falling for her, fast. He wasn’t stupid, as much as the hockey player stereotype usually proved. He knew enough about himself to know that Renée was exactly his type – beautiful, funny, smart, and so full of a genuine happy energy. Loved trying new things. Found the little stories of everything fascinating. Had excellent taste in wine. Was an amazing cook. Had a laugh that made his heartbeat race. It was insane how much he already liked her, and it felt stupid the more he thought about because he’d only known her a week. Just one week, seven days, and she had him caught hook, line, and sinker. He still wasn’t sure how he was lucky enough that she was even interested in fooling around with him but he wasn’t going to waste this opportunity, as much as it was probably going to break his heart when he went back home.

But if this morning’s kiss was anything to go by, with the way that he was still floating on air right now, maybe it was exactly what he needed after all.

It only took 45 minutes for them to drive to Arles, Renée finding parking easily with the mid-week calm.

They headed straight to the Arènes d'Arles, the Roman amphitheatre, taking a tour of the incredible two tier structure as well as taking a bunch of photo of each other – as well as a couple of selfies for their own personal stashes. Unfortunately there wasn’t a concert that night – which, if he’d known there were concerts here, he would’ve planned better – and the bullfighting wasn’t on either, but it was still incredible to wander about the 2,500 year history.

The two of them also headed on the Van Gogh walk, Quinn having no idea that the artist had actually lived in Arles for 16 months in the late 19th century. What was incredibly endearing was Renée’s enthusiasm for spotting the locations referenced in his art work, including the Quai du Rhône for the starry night, and Lamartine Square for the yellow house. The walk took them several hours but by the time they’d reached the end of it, Renée was practically giddy, and that alone was worth it for Quinn.

After a lunch stop, the two of them headed to the Cloître Saint-Trophime, another incredible UNESCO World Heritage Site, exploring the cathedral and grounds at their usual easy pace, snapping a few photos – until an older lady approached them with a smile.

“Vous êtes un beau couple. Tu veux que je prenne une photo?”

Renée immediately blushed but nodded, handing her phone over. Quinn just looked at her, curiously.

“She says we’re a beautiful couple and asked if we would like a photo.”

Oh wow. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, sliding his arm over Renée’s shoulders as she wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning into his body as the lady snapped a couple of photos of them. She returned Renée’s phone with an indulgent smile, Renée murmuring a soft merci beaucoup in thanks, and Quinn wasted no time in throwing an arm over her shoulder again to see her phone screen.

The first photo took his breath away, with how easy they looked together. The old lady was right – they did look like a beautiful couple.

“You look so happy,” Renée said softly, smiling up at him.

“I am happy,” he said honestly.

Her cheeks flushed and she quickly looked back down at her phone, but he knew that she was smiling.

“I promise not to post it anywhere,” she said quickly.

Because there was no denying that this wasn’t just friendship in that photo.

“Okay, sure. Can you still send it to me though?” he asked hopefully.

She giggled but nodded, sending the photo by airdrop before leaning up to give him a quick kiss. As she pulled away, Quinn felt just as breathless as he did the first time he kissed her. It was getting harder and harder to deny his feelings, that was for sure.

The two of them spent a little more time in Arles before driving back to Avignon, going to their separate apartments to freshen up before heading out for dinner. Typically, they headed out to their little local restaurant – hell, they were practically regulars at this point – and their usual waitress showed them to a table in the corner.

The waitress murmured something to Renée after she handed them their menus, making Renée blush deeply and laugh as she walked away, to which Quinn just looked at her curiously.

“Maude was teasing us. Said it’s about that that we admitted our romance,” Renée admitted.

Well damn. First the old lady in Arles and now their waitress? Did they really look that natural together?

“Alors.”

Quinn startled slightly at Maude’s voice, but let out a huff of laughter as she presented a bottle of ruby red wine. The waitress rattled off a stream of fast French, to which Renée laughed again, shaking her head.

“She said the wine is free for new lovers.”

Now it was Quinn’s turn to blush, earning laughter from both women.

“Merci pour le vin,” he stumbled out, his translation hesitant.

But Maude just beamed, patting his shoulder.

“Bien!”

He slumped back in his chair, letting Renée order for them both, knowing that she could see he was a little overwhelmed and also knowing the food he liked by now. It was easy. Too easy. Why was he getting himself so worked up about this?

“Cheers, Quinn.”

Renée’s soft words brought him out of his thoughts, seeing her raising a glass of the wine to him and that she’d already poured him a glass too, so he quickly lifted his glass with a smile and clinked it gently against hers.

It was very good wine.

True to form, the two of them spent a couple of hours eating, talking, and drinking, just basking in each other’s company, and Quinn tried not to let himself overthink things. No strings, easy fun. He could roll with this.

It was late when the two of them ended up back in his apartment, kissing the moment that Quinn shut the door behind them, and they stumbled over to the sofa without breaking apart. It was consuming, heated, passionate like never before, and Quinn found himself sliding his hands under her clothes, helping her undress as she helped him undress too. It wasn’t until they were down to their underwear that Quinn pulled away to take a ragged breath, eyes roving over her tanned skin bathed in the moonlight that streamed in through the windows.

“Bed?” he asked, more than a little breathless as his hands clutched at her bare waist.

“Yes, take me to bed Quinn,” she murmured.

He didn’t need to be asked twice.

~~~

The next few days felt like they flew by. Renée tried to hold onto each moment, to savour each memory, but when each moment was just as happy as the last, it was hard to distinguish them. Throughout days nine, ten, eleven, and twelve of Quinn’s trip, Renée tried hard to make sure that he experienced as many local things as well as a couple of more exciting trips, to keep his vacation as full as possible.

In Avignon, the two of them visited the Musée de Petit Palais, another UNESCO World Heritage Site, home to an incredible collection of paintings from the 13th to the 15th century. They also went to the Cathédrale Notre-Dame-des-Doms. It was right next to the Palais des Papes, where they’d visited earlier in their trip, and well worth the visit – the frescoes, marble statues and golden statue of the Virgin Mary in the interior were incredible, and another moment for a few photos of the two of them.

Those were mostly for Renée’s memories at this point. She wasn’t going to lie to herself.

As a fun activity, Renée booked them on a lunchtime cruise along The Rhône, listening to the tour guide give them a fascinating description from the water’s edge, murmuring the translation into Quinn’s ear as they went – a perfect excuse to sit practically in his lap, although she didn’t think he minded with the way he had his arm wrapped tight around her waist.

They also took a day trip to Aix-en-Provence, just as she’d asked for.  It took them just over an hour to drive, easy in the morning traffic, and she felt lost in the incredible art history, grateful to Quinn for indulging her yet again. They visited the art studio of Cezanne, as well as his works displayed in the Granet Museum. The museum also displayed works by Picasso, Rembrandt, and Ingres, all of which Quinn listened to her ramble about with avid attention. They had an extended coffee break in Cours Mirabeau, visited the beautiful Vendôme Pavilion, before eating a romantic candlelit dinner looking over a busy square, all light up with twinkling lights.

Her favourite day though? A trip to the local farmer’s market again, when they’d eaten fresh peaches and kissed the slick juice off each other’s lips.

All of this mixed with intense incredible sex every single day only led Renée to one conclusion. She was falling in love with him, slowly but surely, and she felt so damn stupid when she realised it, lying naked in his arms while Quinn snored quietly next to her. How could she not feel stupid? He was leaving soon – he only had two days left in Avignon – and there was nothing she could do about it. She was the one that suggested no strings fun after all, although she should’ve known that would’ve come back around to bite her in the ass.

Nothing good could come from this realisation. Nothing at all.

But she would be damned if she wasn’t going to live these final two days with him to the fullest.

~~~

Quinn woke up on his penultimate day with a heavy heart. Not because of the beautiful woman lying naked in his arms, no. Well…no, not really. It wasn’t her fault, after all, that he was falling in love with her. She’d never asked for that, nothing more than fooling around, but here he was thinking like a fool anyway.

That didn’t stop him from kissing the sleepy smile off her face when she woke up, happily making her cry out his name with his face between her thighs too.

After the two of them had showered separately in their own apartments, because he knew damn well that he couldn’t keep his hands off her at this point, they headed out to central Avignon for their final day trip. Today, they were heading to Sault, to the lavender fields, as part of a half day trip with a private guide. Apparently the trips were for a maximum of eight people in a minibus, but there was only one other couple booked in for their trip today, so Quinn was buzzing about having more private time with Renée.

The ride from Avignon only took one hour, but before they got to the fields, they made a stop at the lavender distillery Arôma Plantes. Alongside a little museum, where they learnt about lavender oil production, there was a little store, where Quinn happily bought a ton of gifts for his family to take home with him, and Renée bought her own fair share too. When they finally arrived at the fields though, Quinn had to admit he was a little breathtaken with the vast beauty. The bright colours alone were stunning, and he made sure to take a ton of candid photos of Renée as well as a couple of posed shots, letting her do the same for him before the tour guide took a few photos of them together, getting all the angles in to make them laugh.

The laughing photos ended up being his favourite of the whole selection, if he was being honest.

They visited three fields in total for about 15-20 minutes each, before heading to the village of Sault for a lunch stop, sharing a bottle of wine between them (with the other couple doing the same). By the time they headed back to Avignon, Quinn had a steady buzz from the wine as well as the rush of the day, and it was easy to fall back into his bed with Renée for the afternoon, only leaving to shower separately when his stomach rumbled with hunger.

They changed apartments for dinner, Renée having a better kitchen set-up than he did. He watched her cook for them in a comfortable silence, sipping water to clear his head as much as was possible, smiling at her every time she caught him watching her.

“I’m really going to miss you.”

There it was. He’d blurted it out without meaning to, cringing at the raw honesty in his voice. Renée looked more than a little stunned, turning the stop top burner to low before looking at him properly.

“You’re going to miss me?” she said hesitantly, “Or you’re going to miss this time in Provence?”

“You. Both. I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense when I say it out loud, but I can’t believe how quickly these past two weeks have flown by? If I could live in a bubble with you here in Avignon, time standing still and nothing changing, then I would,” he said, laughing a little incredulously.

Renée smiled sadly. “The time has flown by. Avignon with you will always hold a place in my heart. I’m going to miss it too.”

“You’re leaving Avignon?” he asked, confused.

She seemed to hesitate slightly, maybe a little confused, before she nodded.

“I’m leaving France entirely soon – I’m due to head home myself. My Schengen 90 day visa runs out at the end of May.”

Her whole trip was ending?

She was heading home too?

She was heading back to Canada, back to Montreal?

Why hadn’t she said anything these past few days? Why had they only focused on him, only spoken about his trip ending?

While he got lost in his thoughts, Renée finished off cooking, and the two of them sat down to eat in silence. As always, the food was incredible, and he made sure to let her know that, earning the usual modest blush, and they finished off a bottle of wine on the sofa, ending the evening with the slow, sweet kisses that had gotten him lost in her nearly a week ago.

But rather than falling into bed together like they had done all week, Quinn had left for his own apartment with a goodnight kiss, admitting he hadn’t yet packed his suitcase at all, and he didn’t want to rush that tomorrow.

Renée had laughed at him, teasing smile making him blush, but she waved him off with another kiss that left him conflicted. Because while it was true he had yet to pack his suitcase, he also wanted to think.

She lied about leaving Avignon. Why?

No, not lied. Just omitted. He knew she was over on a visa, but it hadn’t occurred to him the timings of her trip and she hadn’t stated it. Why?

Maybe she just was protecting herself. But why?

The more he thought about it, the more overwhelmed he felt, until he was sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. Why did he care so much? Why had he let her get into his head like this? Why had he allowed her to consume his heart like this?

Because that what it was, wasn’t it? He was falling in love with her, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, and now there was a slightest fraction of a chance that this didn’t have to end because they would be in the same country for most of the year.

It was the tiniest sliver of a chance but as soon as he thought of it, his greedy heart clutched onto the hope with all of its strength.

This season had been one of the hardest, both physically and mentally, and he’d taken this trip to make a change in his life. A change he had so desperately needed. Was Renée this change? Had she changed him? Meeting her was the first thing that made him feel good in a long time. He was damn sure that he wouldn’t have had nearly as good a time in Avignon if it hadn’t been for her. He knew that, down to his bones.

He had to tell her how he felt. It would be stupid not to, with him leaving tomorrow. At least that way he would know for certain. You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, right? He needed to take this shot, for his own heart’s sake.

Tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning he would tell her, and he could only hope for the best.

~~~

Renée woke up to the sound of a series of rapid knocks on her front door, jolting her from her sleep and her empty bed. Going to bed had been strange last night, without Quinn by her side as she’d had all week, but she knew that was stupid to hold onto. He was leaving today, after all, so she needed to let go of him. She wouldn’t survive otherwise.

Still the knocking continued, so she got up with a yawn, shuffling to open the door, only to reveal Quinn standing there far earlier than normal. He was fully dressed, holding two coffees in a holder with a bag of pastries under one arm…and a bouquet of flowers?

The most beautiful colourful fresh flowers that she’d ever seen too.

“Are these for me?”

Damn her lack of caffeine.

Quinn huffed out a laugh, smiling fondly down at her, making traitorous butterflies swirl in her stomach.

“Yes, they are. Can I come in?” he asked.

She just nodded, still a little stunned at the beautiful bouquet, Quinn heading straight for the kitchen to put them in a vase, leaving the coffees and pastries on the kitchen island as he did so.

“Quinn…” she murmured, prompting as he put the flowers on the island next to them.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly, before he moved to stand next to her and cleared his throat.

“I’m leaving today. I’m leaving and I can’t change it, so I need to tell you before I regret not saying anything,” he said softly.

“Tell me what?” she asked, dangerous hope starting to seep into her heart.

“That I’m falling in love with you.”

Her lips parted in surprise as her heart felt like it skipped beat. He was falling in love with her?

“Renée Moreau…you’ve made me feel alive for the first time in a long time. Every time I look at you my heart wants to sing and I don’t want that to end. These two weeks have been the most amazing weeks of my life, especially this past week, and I had to tell you how I feel before I burst. Is there even the slightest chance that you feel the same for me too?”

His words washed over her in an emotional wave that she had not been expecting. It was the last thing she’d been expecting, if she was being honest, never daring to hope that he was falling for her like she was falling for him. She felt stunned, shocked into silence as pure giddiness rushed through her. He felt the same? He didn’t want this to end either?

Just as Quinn’s face started to shutter in her silence, Renée lurched forward and kissed him, cupping his face with both hands. Quinn moaned softly, kissing her back with an intensity that left her breathless, but she didn’t dare pull away from him until she started to feel dizzy, resting her forehead against his shoulder with shaky breaths. This was real. He was falling in love with her too. She wasn’t dreaming.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Renée. I admire your free spirit, and your courage, so much. Just going out into the world to figure out what it is that you want rather than coasting along in repetitive nothingness? You’re inspiring, and you make me want to live life to its fullest, every day.”

She choked out a sob against his shirt, lifting her head to look up at him with tears in her eyes.

“I don’t feel brave. In fact sometimes I feel like I’m free falling because I have no destination, and it's terrifying. But you…you’re dedicated to your career, to your family, to everything you love. You commit, wholeheartedly, and you inspire me, Quinn Hughes. You make me want to set roots and figure out what settling down means. You’re special, in every single way, and I really hope I can make you see exactly how special you are.”

It was Quinn’s turn to have tears spring to his eyes, and he shook his head a little incredulously, like he couldn’t believe his good fortune, before he just leant down to kiss her again, the kiss staying slow and warm, toe-curling in its sweetness before he pulled away once more.

“I don’t know what the future will hold. I don’t know how we’ll make it work between Vancouver and Montreal. But I want to figure it out, if you want to too?”

“I do, I really do,” she said, smiling through happy tears.

After spending the rest of Quinn’s last day in bed together, Renée drove him to the train station that evening. He was going to take a taxi, same as his way into Avignon, but Renée insisted, needing that last kiss goodbye. As she watched him wheel his suitcase into the station, ready to head to Lyon and then back to Detroit, her heart was aching dreadfully.

But she would see him again, she knew it.

~~~

The beginning of August felt like the beginning of a new chapter for Quinn. Not just because his off-season training had left him feeling strong, ready for the new upcoming season, but because Renée was arriving today to spend two weeks with him at his family’s house in Michigan. She was coming to meet his family, to finally see them in person, and he was so excited and nervous that he felt like he was going to burst.

The two of them had video called every single day since he arrived home, when she was still in Avignon as well as when she arrived home in Montreal, him meeting her parents over video call and her talking to his parents and Jack and Luke on the calls too – but now they would actually be meeting her in person. It was different. It was real. He wanted to scream and shout and throw up and pass out, all at once, all in the best possible way.

From the moment he woke up, despite his mom encouraging him to keep on track with his morning work-out at the rink with Jack and Luke, he felt like he’d been waiting hours for her to arrive. And sure, his brothers had been ruthlessly teasing him for essentially sitting in the front bay window, but  his mom ushered them away as best as she could. He didn’t care though, they could tease him all they wanted – he had the most amazing girl who actually liked him coming to visit. Soon enough, a car pulled up outside the house. Renée had insisted on getting a taxi from the airport, insisting she needed the time to pull herself together – but that didn’t mean Quinn couldn’t rush out of the house to greet her away from his family.

“Hey, you’re here,” he murmured, clutching her hands.

“I’m here,” she grinned.

Quinn wasted no time in kissing her, just a few short soft kisses that he needed, before pulling her tightly into a hug, Renée burying her face in his neck, the two of them keeping that embrace for a few seconds before pulling back with shaky smiles.

“Ready to meet my family?” he asked, picking up her suitcase.

“I think so?” she said.

Her tone of voice made him pause slightly, before he caught her gaze over his shoulder, and there pressed against the window were his brothers, gawking at them like lions at a zoo. Quinn just rolled his eyes, tangling his fingers with hers as they walked towards the house. He couldn’t apologise for Jack and Luke enough, he knew that much.

Meeting his parents went smoothly, his mom immediately pulling her into a firm hug while his dad just looked proud. Jack and Luke were a little more chaotic, but his mom (and thank god for her) broke up the intensity by letting them head upstairs to get Renée settled while she finished off putting lunch together, dragging his brothers out with her to set the table.

He’d cleared a little space for her in his drawers and wardrobe, allowing her to unpack fully with a shy pleased smile, and Renée didn’t take long putting everything away, Quinn watching her from his bed with a soft smile.

She was really here.

She was in his room, she’d met his family, she was staying for two weeks.

Renée was really here.

“So…”

She straddled his lap as she spoke, Quinn instinctively wrapping his arms around her waist as she placed her hands on his shoulders.

“So…” he repeated, teasing.

Renée laughed, kissing him slowly, sweetly, just enough tongue to send his head swirling as she pulled away.

“Remember how one of the conditions of my parents paying for me to go to France for three months was that I would work for my dad’s company when I got back?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah, I remember. What about it?” he asked, still a little stunned from the kiss.

“This is where I tell you that my dad has approved for me to run the social media accounts and minor marketing from a remote location,” she said, a little hesitant.

From a remote location.

Quinn inhaled sharply, lips parting slightly. “Does that mean…” he trailed off, eyes wide.

They’d talked about it, what the long distance between Vancouver and Montreal would mean, how difficult it would be. What possibilities they had. What the future could be.

Renée bit her bottom lip before nodding. “It means I can move to Vancouver with you. It means that my dad really likes you, and trusts that I can build a life with you while still doing my job. You know, if you still want me around.”

She would be coming to Vancouver with him. This was more than he could have hoped for after he’d met her, let alone after how last season ended. Was he dreaming? He didn’t think he was dreaming.

“Of course I do, are you kidding me? This is amazing!” Quinn grinned.

Renée laughed in delight as he pressed kisses all over her face, still giggling as he kissed her full on the lips, easily melting into the kiss as he slid a hand deep into her blonde curls, holding her tight to him. But then she broke away, resting her forehead against his for a breath or two before lifting her head to look into his eyes.

“You don’t think it’s too soon? We’ve only known each other twelve weeks! And we’ve only had two of those in each other’s company!” she said, hesitant.

No, he couldn’t have her hesitant. That was the last thing he wanted.

“My mom always says when you know, you know. And I know with you, Renée. Yeah, maybe it’s a little crazy, but it’s a good crazy? I don’t want to waste my life regretting something that has the potential to be amazing, just because it's not conventional,” he said seriously, smiling softly before that smile shifted to a frown, “You’re not having second thoughts, right?”

A lump rose in his throat at the passion in his own words, tears springing to his eyes as she shook her head.

“No second thoughts here at all. I just wanted to make sure – I had to say it. Because I know other people will be thinking it, even if they don’t say it too,” Renée said simply, smiling sadly at him.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks. You make me want to be brave, Renée, and I can’t wait to see where the future takes us,” Quinn said firmly, “Bring on the crazy and bring on these next two weeks.”

She just laughed, nodding again as a couple of tears escaped her eyes. Quinn’s smile softened as he wiped his thumb across a stray tear, before he leaned in to kiss her again. This was everything, right here. The girl of his dreams and the future he’d always hoped for.

“Hey lovebirds, sorry to break up the reunion, but mom wants to feed your girlfriend, Q.”

Quinn groaned as he pulled away, thunking his head on her collarbone.

“Thank you Luke, we’ll be down in just a moment,” Renée called out, laughing.

“Don’t let Quinn keep you locked away – Jack’s up next and he has a water pistol ready to go.”

Renée just laughed harder as Quinn’s face shifted in a light scowl.

“Bye Luke!” he said firmly, listening to his little brother laugh with annoyance, waiting until he heard footsteps to look back at Renée. “Little brothers are the worst.”

“I don’t know, seems like they love you a lot,” she grinned.

His heart melted a little at her sweet words. Not a lot of people understood the dynamics between him and his brothers, how intense they were, how close they were, but just the fact that Renée accepted their crazy without question?

Well, it said a lot about how well she was going to fit into his family, maybe even forever. But that was something for the future. Baby steps first.

“Ready to head down for lunch?” he asked, helping her to her feet.

“I’m ready.”

~~~

Tagging a few people who might be interested in reading: @wyattjohnston @matthewtkachuk @senditcolton @fallinallincurls @cellythefloshie @sorryjustafangirl @jostyriggslover96 @typical-simplelove @ghostyjosty

[talonabraxas]

I trow I hung on that windy Tree nine whole days and nights, stabbed with a spear, offered to Odin, myself to mine own self given, high on that Tree of which none hath heard from what roots it rises to heaven. — Hávamál (Line 137)

The Wild Hunt of Odin Talon Abraxas

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, one of the earliest and foremost histories of the Anglo-Saxons, who were descended from the same Germanic tribes as the Norse and broadly shared the same body of religious lore, records the following event as having happened in CE 1127:

Let no one be surprised at what we are about to relate, for it was common gossip up and down the countryside that after February 6th many people both saw and heard a whole pack of huntsmen in full cry. They straddled black horses and black bucks while their hounds were pitch black with staring hideous eyes. This was seen in the very deer park of Peterborough town, and in all the woods stretching from that same spot as far as Stamford. All through the night monks heard them sounding and winding their horns. Reliable witnesses who kept watch in the night declared that there might well have been twenty or even thirty of them in this wild tantivy as near as they could tell.

This spectral, nocturnal horde was the “Wild Hunt,” which was recorded in folklore all throughout ancient, medieval, and even early modern Europe, but was especially concentrated in the Germanic lands of northern Europe. In Scandinavia, it was called Oskoreia, “Terrifying Ride,”[2] or Odensjakt, “Odin’s Hunt.” In Middle High German, it was called Wuotanes Her, “Odin’s Army,” and in modern German Wütende Heer, “Furious/Inspired Army,” or Wilde Jagd, “Wild Hunt.”

It swept through the forests in midwinter, the coldest, darkest part of the year, when ferocious winds and storms howled over the land. Anyone who found him- or herself out of doors at night during this time might spot this ghostly procession – or be spotted by it, which might involve being carried away and dropped miles from where the unfortunate person had been taken up, or worse.[6] Others, practitioners of various forms of magic, joined in it voluntarily, as an intangible part of them (a “soul,” if you like) flew with the cavalcade while their bodies lay in their beds as if sleeping normally. Sometimes, the members of the Hunt entered towns and houses, causing havoc and stealing food and drink.

The Leader of the Wild Hunt

When accounts of the Wild Hunt mention a leader, the figure who filled this role varied greatly. In Germany, the leader could have been “Perchta, Berhta, Berta, Holt, Holle, Hulda, Foste, Selga, Selda, Heme, Herla, Berchtold [or] Berhtolt.”

However, as the Wild Hunt’s various names across the Germanic lands attest, one figure was especially closely associated with it: Odin, the god of the dead, inspiration, ecstatic trance, battle frenzy, knowledge, the ruling class, and creative and intellectual pursuits in general. Two of Odin’s hundreds of names further demonstrate his association with midwinter, the time of the year in which the holiday Yule (Old Norse Jól) falls: Jólnir and Jauloherra, both of which mean something like “Master of Yule.” The myths describe him frequently riding throughout the Nine Worlds on his eight-legged steed, Sleipnir, on quests of a shamanic nature, another theme that connects him to the Wild Hunt. As H.R. Ellis Davidson put it, speaking of the manifestations of the Wild Hunt that continued well into the Christian era, “it was natural that the ancient god of the dead who rode through the air should keep a place in this way in the memory of the people, and it reminds us of the terror which his name must once have inspired.”

Conclusion

In the body of lore surrounding the Wild Hunt, we find a number of themes that connect it powerfully with the dead and the underworld. For one thing, there’s the ghostly character of the hunters or warriors themselves. Dogs and horses, animals that were closely associated with death (amongst a great many other things), were almost invariably present. In some accounts of the Hunt, the riders can hardly, if at all, be distinguished from land spirits, who were themselves often conflated with the dead, as if the two were thought of as being in some sense one and the same. Finally, for the ancient Germanic peoples, the worlds of the living and the dead were especially permeable during midwinter, which goes a long way toward explaining why this troop of apparitions haunted the land during that particular part of the year. In the words of Claude Lecouteux, “[T]he Wild Hunt fell into the vast complex of ancestor worship, the cult of the dead, who are the go-betweens between men and the gods.”

It was as if the very elements of midwinter – the menacing cold, the almost unrelenting darkness, the eerie, desolate silence broken only by the baying winds and galloping storms – manifested the restless dead, and the ancient northern Europeans, whose ways of life and worldviews predisposed them to sense spiritual qualities in the world around them, recorded the sometimes terrifying fruits of such an engagement with the enchanted world in their accounts of the Wild Hunt.

[bilightningwhumper]

Belonging to Nightmares

-A "12 Dancing Princesses" inspired story-

Rating:

Mature (with some Explicit scenes throughout)

Summary:

Thirty years ago, the wife of the king's favored scientist passed away, taking their unborn child with her. Twenty-five years ago, twelve girls were made and born to the scientist, both in honor and the image of his beloved wife. Nearby, another girl was born, but she was unimportant, unworthy of note by any other than her adoptive parents in celebration of the grand miracle. Now, in the present day, our story starts five days after the scientist's death. Only one daughter, Minna, the one their father kept closest, does not grieve him. Neither does she grieve the loss of freedom taken from her sisters and her. She barely grieves in any way. After all, she does not feel. Not like her friends and sisters do. But she does love, she thinks. And that love is what keeps her going. And so, her fate is sealed. She is the protector of her family. Hidden away in the dark walls of the castle, Kyrie fights to change her fate. After her family's slaughter, she is now a concubine for the king. A king who is unpredictable, ever-changing in what she and others can do to please him. But please him she must, so she can find a way to be with Minna again. Or die trying. All main characters 18+ unless I specify otherwise (ie, certain flashbacks).

MCs:

Minna Palore- Clone 3 of 12, autistic and semi-verbal through echolalia/reading (communicates mainly by writing/visuals) Kyrie Erinsky- Minna's best friend turned girlfriend/lover, adhd and hyperverbal

Basic Premise:

-Medieval with some modern/steampunk-esk twist; partially dystopian or post-apocalyptic in quality -F/F romance -MCs are female whumpees with various whumpers and various caretakers

Types of whump/general warnings:

-lab+medical whump -possessive+manipulation whump -familial whump -discrimination+ableism -nsfwhump (in moderation) -explicit lesbian smut/nsfw content (consensual) I do not condone Rape/Noncon irl. This is purely a way to vent and cope. Take care of yourselves!

(* for mature/18+ posts)

Character List (and mini lore dump)

MC Portraits for "Belonging to Nightmares"

Character List for "Belonging to Nightmares" prequel- "The First Ones"

Main Work:

(alternating PoVs; Minna first, Kyrie second, repeat)

Meet Minna

Meet Kyrie [tbd]

Minna- The Year Before [tbd]

Kyrie- The Year Before*

Meet the Sisters [tbd]

Meet Cyrus [tbd]

Flashbacks before Separation (chronological order; Not Spoilers):

Sharing Clothes- Minna, fluff [January, tbd]

First Kiss- Minna, fluff [tbd]

First Kiss- Kyrie, fluff [tbd]

Flashbacks set during "The Year Before" (chronological order; Semi-Spoilers):

Silent Night- Minna, whump [tbd]

Dish Fit for a King- Kyrie, whump [tbd]

A Father's Disapproval- Minna, whump

Secret Meeting- Kyrie, whump [tbd]

Excerpts/Drabbles (chronological order, subject to change; Spoilers):

Finally Reunited (For Now)- Kyrie fluff/angst

Midnight Visitor- Minna (Kyrie whump) [Multiple versions of this one: Version 1, Version 2, Version 3-in progress]

Sharing Clothes- Kyrie, fluff [January, tbd]

The Perfect Gift- Minna, fluff/angst

The Perfect Gift- Minna pt 2, fluff [tbd]

The Perfect Gift- Minna pt 3*, fluff/nsfw [tbd]

The Perfect Gift- Kyrie, fluff/angst

The Perfect Gift- Kyrie pt 2, fluff [tbd]

The Perfect Gift- Kyrie pt 3*, fluff/nsfw [tbd]

"May I have this dance?"- Minna, fluff [tbd]

"May I have this dance?"- Kyrie, fluff [tbd]

Writing Events using these MCs:

Feveruary 2025 [coming in February! Planned daily postings tbd]

Febuwhump 2025 [coming in February! Planned daily postings tbd]

Femslash February (using hollie47's prompts) [coming in February! Planned daily postings tbd]

Related answered asks:

Writeblr Library- Browsing: What's something your character is looking for? Will they ever find it? (answered with Minna)

Writeblr Bakery- Cake: How does your character celebrate? Could be for holidays, special events, or general celebration when they are excited/happy? (answered with both MCs)

Writeblr Gym- Stretches: What is your character's final goal? What are they reaching for? (answered with Kyrie)

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist, but no pressure, as always.

[harpersessentials]

+30 BAKING, PASTRY & BAKERS MODS & CUSTOM CONTENT

With the new Home Chef Hustle Stuff Pack and the coincidence of being in the situation of starting a new generation mostly focused on baking skill, I decided to do some mods research to enhance my sims experience with this skill and I decided to share with you all of my findings 😊

SMALL MODS

LITTLBOWBUB's Grannies Ol' Recipe Book and Grannies Bakery Delivery

ONI's Recipe Pack Mod

ICEMUNMUN's Custom Desserts Recipes and Marzipan Fruits Mod

LITTLBOWBUB's Custom Food Recipes

TIANASIMS' Cookbook + Custom Recipes

KIARASIMS4MODS' Bake Sale Event

SIMULARITY's Bake Everything in Any Oven

SRSLYSIMS' Dessert as Baking Mod

RAVASHEEN's A-Dough-Able Cupcake Maker and Cake a Break

SEVERINKA's All Baking from the Cupcake Machine in the Oven

XBRETTFACE's Holiday Baking Traditions

CUSTOM CAREERS

KIARASIMS4MODS' Baker Career

SORG's Baker Career

SNOWIII95's Baker Career

ADEEPINDINGO's Freelance Chef Career

MIDNITETECH's Chocolatier Career

CUSTOM CAS TRAITS & ASPIRATIONS

KIARASIMS4MODS' Master Baker Trait

CARADRIEL's Baker Aspiration and Pastry Lover Trait

SIMMERSARAH's Natural Cook Trait

Marlynsims' Home Cooking Enthusiast Aspiration

XBRETTFACE's Famous Pastry Chef Aspiration and Baker Trait

CAS CUSTOM CONTENT

TZUHU's Children's Appron Accessory

LUUMIA's Chefs Hats

LINZLU's Grandma's Apron

NACHOSIMS' Eggplant Earrings

BUY MODE

SIXAM's Mixer (Cupcake Factory Override or Standalone)

SIMCREDIBLE's Naturalis Cupcake Factory

ICEMUNMUN's Functional Cookie Jar

VAMPIRELORESKILL's Wonder Troley

BUDGIE's Table Flour and Sugar/Flour Clutter

HONEYSAPS' Baked with Love

EIPI's Foodie Goodies

PIERISIM's Domaine du Clos Part V Collection

JOYCEISFOX's Simple Live Collection

AUTUMNSFAIRY's Vintage Bakery Chalkboard Sign

SRSLYSIMS' Decra-Chill Retail Fridge

SIMSINSANIA's Bakeries Decor

MYSHUNOSUN's Bake It Up

POSES

SIMMERIKA's Baking a Mess (Couple)

SIMSXEN's Joy and Cookies (Adult+Child)

LOTS

KIARASIMS4MODS's Bakery Lot Trait

RAVESHEEN's Kiss of Fresh Hidden Lot Modifier

Bosselady Bakery Lot Trait

JENBA's Bakery & Spooky Store

WHYEVERR's Great Simlish Bake Off Lot

ALERION's Magical Medieval Bakery

[sso-oc-events]

Upcoming OC events!

These are currently in drafts, but since it's been quiet for a bit I figure I should let you know what's coming up.

September - Medieval / ren faire theme October - Halloween (maybe general autumn theme too?) November - break month? December - Winter ball (fancy dresses, suits, etc!), and possibly running a general winter holiday event and/or new year's party even if they might have to run simultaneously.

Obviously nobody has to participate in any event, so running 3 events in December (winter ball, holiday celebration, and new year's) would just mean that you can pick and choose which event speaks more to you for your OC creativity. But I'm not sure about it, so feel free to let me know how you feel about December events. (The winter ball is a must for me, since seeing similar events on IG is what inspired this whole blog, and I want to see OCs dressed up in ballgowns and other fancy clothes... maybe I could schedule the ball for December 1st instead though, and treat it as November's event?)

[jortschronicles]

Received one of my hats? Here's some info!

Did you receive a funny little medieval beanie with a tag reading something along the lines of

Monmouth Cap #99 by Doña Áshildr Inn Hárfagri Based on research by Jennifer L Carlson Made in the Barony of Namron

These caps, easiest to spot by the little hanging loop (which i stick my tags on!) have their roots at least as far back as the 15th century with the Capper's Act of 1488, which was instituted to protect English wool markets.

TL;DR: please enjoy your fun historical beanie in silly colors, I had a fun time making it and I'd love to see how far they make it around the Knowne World! If you can, post a picture of your hat to Facebook or Instagram tagging me or using the hashtag #ashildrhat so we can see how far it traveled!

If you'd like to read more about the history behind these hats, I've included some below the cut!

The Peasant Wedding, by Pieter Bruegel ca 1568, emphasis by Matthew Gnagy in Knitting With the Modern Maker Vol 1

As seen in these in these detail shots, these hats seem similar to the popular "tudor flat cap" in construction, with a distinct crown and brim, but have a more beanie-type structure with the brim occasionally turned up partially or all the way. I have often seen reenactors partially turn the brim up to create a bycocket-type shape.

As far back as 1415, the occupational surname Capper begins to grow within Monmouth. In 1465 we see the occupation "cappeknytter." The Capper's Act of 1488 fixes the prices of knitted caps and hats, delcares fines for foreign-made hats, and court records show that these rules were enforced frequently and to full extent. The 1571 An Act for the Continuance of the Making of Caps further protects the English wool, knitting, and capping industry by insisting everybody over the age of 6 will wear a woollen knit cap made in England on Sabbath and holidays, and women were required to wear white caps of the same restrictions unless their husbands were hereditary nobility or particularly important (Buckland 1979).

While these laws were each enforced for a time before being repealed, they give a glimpse into the storied history of this silly little medieval beanie we so dearly love.

The extant monmouth cap, pictured at the top of this post, dates to the 16th century and has been extensively analyzed by modern day knitters. The hat is 59 stitches in circumference with an inch double knit edge, knit 5-6 inches before crown decreases, and closed to 6 stitches before bindoff. Similar finds of knitted and fulled wool caps from the Mary Rose lead me to believe this very practical hat was fulled or felted but the nap has been lost over time.

For further reading, I recommend The Monmouth Cap by Kirstie Buckland and Making a Monmouth Cap by Jennifer L. Carlson.

My Spin On Things

When people ask why I bring so many hats to certain winter events, my reply is usually "I knit when I'm anxious, and boy am I poorly medicated!" I produce them for gift baskets, largesse derbies, coronations, trade days, and "taxes" for my landeds. I make them for commissions, for auctions, but almost always I make them to be freely given away.

I was introduced to these hats by Mistress Elsa von Snackenburg, OP, who is well known in my kingdom for these hats so much so that the kingdom knows this style of hat best as the Elsa Hat. She produces the hats from Lion Brand Thick and Quick, achieving a much more period gauge, and usually with just 1 or 2 colors per hat. However, thick yarn makes my hands cramp, so I chose to experiment with gauge and make a lighter weight hat to fill the spring and fall niches. My math has worked out to a happy 88 stitches cast on 4.0mm needles, giving an even 8-section crown decrease that lends itself well to distribution across 4 dpns, with occasional variations in cast on # to allow different crown patterns such as the stars or to create smaller or larger sizes.

As seen above, I tend to do multicolored hats, incorporating pride flags or heraldic colors, and occasionally with an Ansteorran or Vindheim star at the crown. At the time of posting, I've made 210 of these hats. Producing this many hats, especially free of charge, would not be possible without the generous yarn donations of those like Lessandra della Torre, Katerine la Roux d'Anjou, Elionora inghen Ui Ceallaigh, and many others who have graciously donated yarn to the cause of warming noggins across the Knowne World.

[astriiformes]

To be completely honest I have been doing some Wrestling as of late (by which I mean. since October) because despite all the joy finishing my conversion last year brought me, debilitating moral OCD and the Ongoing Situation do not mix well. Which has been really hard because it's very difficult to be like well, I'm so glad to have joined this community for real and properly just in time for it to suddenly be a source of immense difficulty for me, too. And I'm trying my best to be involved in organizing efforts and to connect with likeminded Jews but it's still been very hard.

And on top of everything having another friend starting their conversion exploration journey recently has been making me realize how strange and lonely and isolated mine was, because it was so affected by the pandemic and lockdown and I didn't get to join my classmates in doing activities outside of class or celebrate holidays with other people or even go to our shul until fairly late in my journey. And of course I had all the other hiccups, like working with three different rabbis due to circumstances out of my control. And it was so worth it and the right choice, but still deeply imperfect in ways I feel sort of melancholy about.

But this last week I'm suddenly finding my place in ways that have been missing for a bit and it feels so important. The Jewish printing symposium I attended was so amazing, and I finally set up my recurring donation to my synagogue now that I'm officially a member and seeing my name and my Hebrew name next to each other in the online portal is making me smile, and some other people from my shul that I don't know very well but would like to get to know better invited me to a second night Seder at their place later this month that I think will be really good, and I'm doing research for a paper on medieval Jewish science for my medieval history class and reading excerpts from the De'ot ha-Filosofim and Midrash ha-Ḥokhmah and Sha'ar ha-Shamayim, and I've been working on my Yiddish and listening to a lot of Yiddish folk and punk music along with it, and today I think I'm going to finally talk to the LGBT history curator about the queer Jewish archives event we're doing in May, and it feels like something important has clicked back into place, that I think is going to make me both happier & more effective at the organizing work I want to be a part of but haven't been able to engage with fully for months now.

Anyways I feel like this Pesach is going to Get me because of the timing of this all, and also I already had some really, really hard stuff happen to me last Pesach that I have mostly processed but has still had some far-reaching repercussions, so there's an element of anniversary trauma (?) meets healthy processing that I know is going to happen, too.

But it's still a good reminder of why I chose all this, and that religion & spirituality & community really are incredibly important to me, even when they're difficult (maybe even especially when there's difficulty) and also that I am tougher than I give myself credit for and not totally a victim of my own brain! Which is! An important feeling, if not necessarily an easy one.

[for-valour]

‘The Greaze is an annual custom unique to Westminster School, held each Shrove Tuesday since at least the mid 1700s but in a tradition likely to be medieval. A school cook tosses a pancake over an iron bar and pupils scramble to retrieve what they can of the pancake. The pupil with the largest piece wins a guinea from the Dean of Westminster, who also grants the whole school an extra day’s holiday — the ‘Dean’s play’.

The Greaze is the most anticipated event in the School diary and is a popular spectator event, notably in 1919 when it was attended by King George V and Queen Mary, alongside their sons, the future Edward VIII and George VI.’

Source: Westminster School

Aww, look at our baby-faced Bertie!

[milkywayan]

leaving for a reenactment event on thursday that was like the light at the end of the phd tunnel for me, and I just woke up feeling as if I am falling sick

why whywhy I just want some medieval holiday i cant fall sick now fucking shit

[lemonhemlock]

Hi Lemon! I had a lil question out of curiosity,do you have a favorite period of history or a favorite historical figure ? Have a good day/night !

oh, red roses, i'm afraid i always suck at this type of question! surprising no one, i've always loved the medieval period, as a vaguely-defined aesthetic interval. what a completely predictable answer! 😂 i'm a complete dilettante, though, as i have had a total of 1 measly medieval history course in uni, so i'm coasting on vibes most of the time. i do love castles a lot, though, and i visit as many as i can during my holidays. and sometimes i go down the rabbit hole when it comes to the late bronze age collapse.

but, you see, my schooling was mainly in the 20th century, and by that i mean the "short century" of 1914-1991 with a few courses on the long 19th century (1800-1914) leading up to it, and both of these periods have always been interesting for me to study, perhaps the intervals i also found the ~easiest, so studying them at university-level felt the most natural choice for me. to be honest with you, i don't really dislike any historical period, but i probably wouldn't have appreciated sitting for exams on them! whereas the 19th-20th centuries just tended to gel better in my mind and i could make the most sense of them.

i really like the social & cultural aspects (what a vague descriptor LOL) but i avoided them like the plague in uni, because i could not stand studying them for actual grades. i like finding out about them organically through reading (social history is a super important field & i will fight anyone to the death to defend it), but i would have legit lost my mind if i had to be quizzed on matters like church and society LMFAO. from the very beginning i was a brat! so i always, always chose the political/diplomatic modules without question, without blinking. it's the balance of powers and hegemonic stability theory for me all the way

it's funny because it's exactly what i did for my aforementioned one medieval course, because during the exam we had to pick the type of question we wanted to be quizzed on, and i immediately went for the political/diplomatic pile because for the economic/social category the professor had us reading stuff like crop rotation and i nearly had an aneurysm when i opened the course book. the way i immediately skipped all that and just went to petty kingdoms and my elizabeth i book,,,,,,,,,,,,

we focused a lot on the world wars, in the least shocking turn of events, and spent a lot of time on the leading causes, peace treaties, formation of international organisations, regimes etc. nothing like painstakingly writing pages after pages of course notes on the treaty of versailles wednesdays at 8:00 in the morning. it does something to a person! 👌

as for historical figures, i haven't really fixated on a favourite one, so to speak. i mean, wojtek the bear is always a good answer though!