#juniper breeze hand cream

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

Bath and Body Works Country Apple and Juniper Breeze Healing Hand Cream

1990s

CA found on Poshmark, user margaretbocian

JB found on Ebay, user sgd1952

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 14: Dinner as a Family: Part 2

Warnings: blood, strong language, sexual themes, nipple play, penetrative sex

Summary: Miranda finally makes it known why Juniper’s place at dinner was important

Feedback appreciated. 18+

When the main course was served the maids brought out plates with cuts of red meat and delicate steamed vegetables.

Juniper cut into the meat, seeing blood ooze under her knife. Calling it rare was reaching.

In the past meat like this would have turned poor Juniper’s stomach. But now, with a monster waiting in her belly, the smell mixed with the thick wine made her mouth water.

She took a large bite, eagerly starting to cut a second as she chewed.

Her enthusiasm took the rest of the table off guard. Heisenberg’s jaw tightened worriedly.

“Enjoy it, Dear?” Alicina smiled smugly.

Juniper nodded, her pupils dilated ever so slightly.

The meal went by with little talk, the table feeling tight. Heisenberg did little more than pick at his food, eating around the more well-done edges of the meat and filling up on bread.

Juniper felt a type of hunger she couldn’t describe, finishing her plate and a second glass of wine.

She glanced around the table: Angie was speaking to Donna, both nodding and deep in the conversation. Moraue was having a time of trying to cut his meat, resorting to just shoving the whole piece into his widened mouth. Lady Dimitrescu was trying to be delicate with her silverware, something her large hands made very difficult. And lastly, Miranda took small bites, eyes always moving.

Juniper’s face felt hot, licking her teeth. She stood from the table, stiffening a bit when she felt multiple eyes follow her. Heisenberg looked at her questioningly.

“Just…need to visit the bathroom.” She mumbled awkwardly.

Lady Dimitrescu raised her head, snapping her finger once. A maid quickly came into the hall.

“Show dear Juniper to the guest bath.” She instructed.

The maid bowed, turning to Juniper, “This way m’lady.”

Excusing herself, Juniper quickly followed the girl.

Heisenberg frowned down at his plate, pushing it away slightly.

“You seem very taken with her.” Miranda observed, peering over the top of her wine glass.

When Heisenberg didn’t respond she continued, “It’s a good thing, you’ve never gotten along well with your other siblings.”

Her words turned his stomach. “Juniper isn’t a Lord.” He reminded her, keeping his voice even.

“Ah, but that is one of the reasons I asked you here.” She smiled.

He looked at her curiously, worry rimming his eyes.

“I think our little Juniper could grow into Lordship, in time.” Mother Miranda nodded, taking a long sip from her glass, “She just needs to nurture her abilities.”

She wanted Juniper to become a lord?

Heisenberg frowned, “And what do you have in mind?”

“Always impatient.” Her eyes narrowed, “I want you to take her on the hunt.”

“Why?” He spoke too quickly, earning him a scolding look.

“Now, Heisenberg, you can’t expect to keep her holed up in that dump of a factory forever now, can you?” Lady Dimitrescu commented.

Before he could bark back Miranda confirmed, “I think her unique abilities will be suited perfectly for the task.”

Heisenberg remembered her mutated form and it’s resemblance to the varcolacs, wondering how much about Juniper’s powers she knew about.

“She isn’t ready.” He tried to argue.

“This isn’t up for debate.” Miranda’s voice commanding, “Think of it as a test, to really see her powers.”

Heisenberg nodded, worry curdling his gut.

~

Juniper washed her hands in the large marble sink. Still feeling flushed, she splashed cold water onto her face. She looked up, eyes catching her own gaze in the gilded mirror.

Her breath stuck fast in her throat, heartbeat quickening.

Her reflection looked wrong, the longer she looked the more it twisted before her: her eyes were dark and blown out, almost wild, her jaw was extended, fangs peeking out.

She took a shaking breath seeing more eyes open along her forehead.

Juniper reached up a shaking hand, feeling along her face, smooth skin greeted her fingertips. She blinked, the image gone.

She looked at herself again, flushed and fearful, but it was her.

She touched the surface, sucking in a shaking breath.

What was hidden just beneath her skin?

~

Juniper returned to the table, looking slightly pale.

“You alright?” Heisenberg asked, concern rimming his eyes.

“I’m fine.” She lied, taking her seat. He didn’t look convinced but relented for the time being.

For dessert they were all served their own savarină cake. It was small and golden colored, soaked in rum, filled with sweet cream and topped with blueberry jelly.

Juniper looked up to see Angie giving little grabby hands to her keeper. Donna cut her cake in half, offering one side to Angie. Juniper couldn’t help her lips twitch, as Angie squealed with glee.

Ever a fan of sweets, and seeing this as the most edible thing they were served other than the bread, Heisenberg ate his in a few swift bites.

He glanced over to find Juniper doing little more than pick at the cake.

“You sure you’re ok, Doll?” He pressed in a little more than a whisper.

“I…may have drank too much wine.”

“Hmm.”

“Would you like my dessert? I don’t think I can manage it.”

He perked up almost excitedly. They exchanged plates: Juniper taking his clean one and him her serving. The second cake didn’t fare much better, or longer for that matter.

Once dessert was finished and the maids cleared away the plates, Miranda stood.

“Thank you again, all my dear children.” She nodded to them each, “I trust everyone will play their part during the Hunt?”

The table murmured a yes, Heisenberg unable to meet her eyes.

“Good, then I will take my leave.” She spoke swiftly. Before she could make it to the door Lady Dimitrescu stood to follow, wanting to show Miranda a few last minute things.

“Well…not eat and run.” Heisenberg stretched before standing, “But I hate this fucking castle.”

He leaned against his hammer as Juniper said her goodbyes.

Donna gave her a sweet little wave, Angie practically screamed a heartfelt goodbye, and Moraue thanked her again for her kindness.

Finding their way back to the entryway, Juniper made a sound of realization.

“Oh! My coat!” She suddenly looked worried.

“Where’d you leave it, Buttercup?” Heisenberg sat his hammer down as he spoke.

Thinking for a moment she snapped her finger, “It’s in the changing room, with my old dress.”

“Let’s go get it.” Heisenberg started to stride away, picking his hammer up. Juniper rushed to keep up.

They retraced their steps, finding the changing room rather quickly. Juniper went in, relieved to find her clothing still folded just where she’d left it. Turning around, she almost jumped,e seeing Heisenberg standing behind her.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” Juniper hissed.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He chuckled looking into a wardrobe, “You think the mega bitch keeps her fancy ass hats in here?”

Juniper pulled on his arm, “Lets go.”

“Ah!” Heisenberg straightened, holding a black lace veil, “Not a hat but one of the girls frilly shit.”

He draped the fabric over his hat, pulling it down around his head, like a babushka.

“Look good Doll?” His lips curled in a shit eating grin.

“Heis…” Juniper tried to stifle a giggle to not encourage him.

“What else do you think is in here?” He rummaged in the wardrobe again, “Think there's a sexy little dress for me?”

“Sexy?” Juniper smirked.

He looked back at her, “Hell yea. That dress makes me want to take you right here.”

Juniper flushed.

Seeing her reaction he pulled the veil away, tossing it to the floor and pulling Juniper to his chest. Looking down through her chest window he licked his dry lips.

“How about we go find an empty room and get you out of that little number for a while, hm?”

The thought of Heisenberg taking her within the home of his least favorite person made a small shiver of excitement run down her spine.

“Only if we’re careful…and fast.” She gulped.

Smiling roguishly, “Well be gone before anyone notices.”

~

After opening several doors and racing quietly down the halls, they finally discovered a free bedroom. It was opulent, as were most rooms in the castle, but had the stale air of dust. It felt safe and far enough away from the night's festivities to serve them well.

Heisenberg walked in whistling, “Damn, swanky!”

Juniper went in more timidly, closing and locking the door. Heisenberg turned and looked her over. “Aw, you look so shy, kitten.” He smirked.

She shot him a look.

“I’m just worried.”

“Why?”

“The…sisters.”

“You worried about the bugs?” He smirked, looking towards the large windows. His eyes narrowed for a moment as the handle rattled open, the window burst open with an icy breeze.

“There,” he soothed, “No bugs will bother us now.”

He slipped his hand into the chest window of her  dress, fondling her breasts. Juniper mewled, feeling him lightly tug at her piercings.

“Careful” her words were a whisper.

Heisenberg kissed down her neck, finding her sweet spot and biting down. She gasped, feeling warmth bloom between her legs.

He lathed his tongue over the mark, groaning out slightly. She felt him take a fistful of the dress, pulling out of his grip. He gave her a warning look, pale eyes narrow.

“Don’t rip this dress!” She hissed. He had nearly closed the distance to do just that, but halted when he saw her gather up the material and pull it over her head.

Her skin prickled in the cold air, she tossed the clothing away, falling back against the fancy bed in only her boots.

“You didn’t wear any panties?” Heisenberg’s face split wolfishly, more blood rushing to his cock.

“I knew you couldn’t be a good boy all night.” She rubbed her thighs together, “Now get over here before we get caught.”

Ever wanting to please her, he instantly complied, unzipping his pants and letting his belt fall free as he closed the distance.

His skin was hot and welcoming as he pressed down onto her, crashing his lips into her own.

Juniper’s hand drifted to his chest. His piercing had long since fully healed, not needing as much time as normal humans.

She purred mischievously as she tugged on his nipple, rolling the metal between her fingers.

He hissed out, pulling away to darkly chuckle, “Oh honey, now is not the time.”

She gave it another tug, “What do you always say to me?” She tried to mimic his voice the best she could, it was a poor imitation still, “Sing for me!”

He pulled away with a huff. Before she could react he flipped her over, pushing her face into the bed. Juniper mewled, raising her hips.

Heisenberg loved to see her in just her work boots and nothing more.

He eagerly pushed into her, earning a moan to slip past her pretty lips. She was already wet and dripping around his cock. He bent over her, stomach pressed into her back, hot scar flush against his chest.

He felt her trapped legs tremble as he fucked her open on the expensive furniture. He reached a hand around her, rubbing circles into her clit as he kept a face pace. Seeing her in that revealing dress and dealing with his shitty ‘family’ had him on edge, and he was ready to blow off some steam.

It didn’t take her long to become a whimpering mess under him. He felt her cunt clench, liquid squirting out around his cock. Juniper cried out, clawing at the sheets.

Heisenberg pumped into her roughly, loving the mess they were making. He brought his hands to her hips, forcing her back into him.

He pulled out, pumping his fist down his sensitive cock, turning enough to splatter his load over the expensive bed sheets.

“Oops.” He smirked, a cocky look over his face.

“Karl?!” Juniper’s cheeks reddened, “We’ll get in trouble.”

“We better get going then.” Heisenberg chuckled, pulling his pants back on.

Juniper struggled to redress quickly, worry thick on her face. She felt like a guilty teenager.

After she had her coat back on and her hair smoothed down she looked up to Heisenberg.

He was sitting on the window sill, one leg already hiked over to the outside.

“What are you doing??” Juniper hissed.

“Uh…?” he looked down at himself showily, “I’m going out the window, Doll.”

“Yea, why?”

“I’m not going out the front fucking door.” He smiled toothily, “Gotta keep our little lay a secret right? Keep them guessing.”

“Heisenberg.” She folded her arms, fixing him with a hard gaze, “You and Moreau are the only two in this whole castle with a penis. I think they’ll know who came all over their guest room.”

“Aw, give the fish freak a break.” Heisenberg put his other leg out the window, “The maids are probably cock hungry enough to give him a ride.”

“Karl!” Juniper scolded, padding up to the window.

She looked down, realizing  they were on the second story. She gulped.

Seeing her fear Heisenberg soothed, “Don’t worry, buttercup.” He offered her his hammer, “Just hang on and I’ll set you down all nice and easy.”

She bit her lip, reaching out a trembling hand, fingers wrapping around the cold metal.

“Hold tight.” He warned. She complied, swinging her legs over to the outside. The wind bit her skin, the hammer in her hands floating before her. It felt unmoving in her grasp, steady and unwavering. She tried to brace herself.

She closed her eyes, nodding and pushing away from the sill.

“Good girl.” Heisenberg smiled, her trust in him making his heart swell.

He concentrated on lowering her as easily and carefully as he could. She kept her eyes shut tight, arms beginning to ache from supporting her weight.

Sooner than she expected her boots met the frozen earth, sending a surprising jolt though her.

Juniper let go, the hammer staying in place for a moment before snapping back into Heisenberg’s hand. He came down next, much quicker and without the caution he used for her.

As soon as his boots met the ground, he hooked his arm around Juniper’s.

His face was alight with glee as he started off into the night.

“Come on!” He laughed, “Let’s get out of here.”

She kept pace with him, the adrenaline and his mirth causing her to join in with the laughter.

[yvesdot]

Golden Afternoon (Summer Drabble 2021)

As some may know, every summer I go to the lake and experience debilitating inspiration. It's like my hand moves by itself, and what it writes is everyone enjoying a nice summer day by the lake, just like me. This is this year's piece! Watch out, for I may do more.

Kay floats expertly, albeit a touch stiffly, in Atlas’s bright pink inner tube on the lake. Atlas snaps a photo of her and drops his phone before galloping down the length of the beach and leaping into the water again. He wades out to her, and she lifts her sunglasses at the disturbance in the waves.

“California girl,” he sings. Kay kisses her fingers and presses them to his forehead. “You look good. How about a popsicle?”

Kay narrows her eyes, then replaces her sunglasses. “Outside food.”

“Boo. Come with me while I get a popsicle?”

Kay sighs, sitting up a little straighter. “I may as well. I might bring one to my father.”

Constantine, for his part, is asleep and looking whiter than usual in an inch-deep layer of sunscreen under a large blue beach umbrella. To Kill A Mockingbird is open on his stomach.

“Sure.” Atlas drags Kay to shore, lining up the inner tube so that she can stand straight up out of it. He offers her his hand, though of course she pretends not to need it, and kisses her cheek. When she lays a hand on his chest, he flings himself at her entirely.

“You are WET,” Kay says, and Atlas squeezes her anyway, because it’s the beach. Kay pats Atlas placatingly. He lets go and walks them over to the ice cream stand; where Avner, Eliza, and Red are sitting at a table in front of a Neapolitan sundae.

“It’s a good thing you know which of us is eating which flavor,” Eliza says to Avner. Her face is shaded by the umbrella.

“What?” Avner says, blinking.

“You’re telling me we didn’t figure this out before we got it?” Red covers his eyes with his hand and leans back in the cheap metal chairs. “Oh, we’re doomed.”

“No we’re not.” Eliza adjusts her cloche hat. “Okay, look: I’ll have the strawberry, you’ll have the vanilla, and Avner will have the chocolate.”

“No,” they all say in unison.

“Right,” Eliza agrees. “Okay. Never mind. What now?”

Red puts a hand to his chest. “I don’t care which flavor I—”

“Liar.” Eliza crosses her arms. A hot breeze blows in off the water.

“Well,” Red admits, “okay. I do care. But you can pick whatever you want.”

“What if we want all of the flavors?” Avner queries, resting his chin on his hand.

“You mean share?” Eliza asks, flicking the bow on her floral one-piece. “Like in third grade?”

“That doesn’t sound so bad, honestly.” Red taps his fingers on the table. “But it’s melting.”

“Whatever,” Eliza agrees, and they all dig in. Elle comes over in a pastel pink romper swimsuit to ask if they’re using the fourth chair, and all three of them make little no, go ahead! hand waves. Elle thanks them profusely and walks over to sit down by Ephraim, who is clothed as if experiencing mid-autumn but for his big square sunglasses.

“Nice rocks,” Elle says, leaning closer to the pile on the table. “May I?”

“Go ahead.” Ephraim flips a page of the newspaper. “It’s my collection, though. Only the best lake rocks.”

“Mhm.” Elle turns a pink one so that it catches the light, then an orange one so that it glows translucent. Bren jogs up and deposits several more on Ephraim’s table.

“Make sure no one takes these,” they remind Ephraim before turning to Elle. “ETA on the sundae?”

“Shortly,” Elle reports, doing a little salute. Bren thanks them and disappears.

Ephraim cackles theatrically as soon as Bren is out of earshot. “My unwitting servant,” he explains to Elle, who is now busy fixing their stretchy white bow headband.

“Genius,” Elle comments, looking out at the boats on the lake. The maybe-vampires squint across the water at you from their pontoon boat. Arbor shakes his head. Juniper waves. Clem gives you a thumbs-up. Fox pulls a black sun hat lower over their head. “Stalker,” Sage mutters.

You walk back up to the parking lot, where Julia is waiting with Ahava in the car.

“Have a good time?” Julia asks. You nod and get into the passenger’s seat. The air conditioning hits you, and though it’s nice out, you immediately lean back against the seat in relief. Julia pulls out of the lot, humming quietly, and you turn around to ask Ahava whether she had a nice time, too.

ko-fi | Patreon | all writing | book

[naturalbornlosers]

im fucking crazy but i am free *shows you excerpt from the fic im writing for purely self-indulgent purposes*

"How does sleep work for you?" They asked. "I technically recharge like any number of devices - a bit dehumanizing, if you ask me, but eh - and the process is started by me shutting my eyes for around fourteen minutes, the average length of time it takes most people to fall asleep. Then I start to enter sleep mode, and power down for the night. Wake up after fully charged, and get on with life." He explained. This was only partially true; he did enter sleep mode, but there was no off switch for him. He did not power off or down, merely entered any number of dreams or dreamless rests. Juniper watched him intently, listening, before taking a sip of juice. "That's fascinating, AM." They exhaled. AM wasn't going to comment on how being told his experience was "fascinating" made him feel all the machine humanity wanted of him, not right now. They were sharing a meal and the early morning sun, and he wanted to keep it that way for now. "I guess it is to you, isn't it?" He hoped this didn't sound too confrontational. "Humans can sleep and even if they don't get much of it, can force themselves to function. I've got seventy-two hours of charge, but if I don't recharge regularly, I'll automatically shut down after that time." He said so matter-of-factly. Juniper finished up their sandwich and wiped their hands against each other, dancing their fingertips in a brush motion over their thumbs for a moment before dabbing their mouth with the cloth napkin. "That's still impressive, humans don't have nearly that amount of time awake in them." They watched a bluebird swoop through the yard from one tree to another. The twittering of wildlife and the distant bark of dogs, a breeze soothing the heat off the leaves, sunlight skimming the grasses and flowers and high branches. AM stared up into that abyss of blue, clouds that passed by in their wind-driven parade, looking back again at the quilt in multiple patterned squares of cream and blue and pinks and greens, sunlight dotting spaces of it, curving angles on the surface of his limbs as it broke through shade, some of the light curving the lap of the human. It didn't quite understand how this world was the way it was. Endless wars raged on in other lands, political unrest, social upheavals, people burning their towns and guns firing into crowds and here it sat with them, sipping grape juice from champagne flutes. How the human race had made it this far was beyond it's imagination, and he had to accept at this moment that this was the way the world spun, entropy and clarity, and something he could not name. Juniper leaned back onto the quilt before sprawling out, laying in the soft support of the earth, staring into the deep sky. Beyond the blue was space and beyond space was more; AM knew this and knew that the human probably did, too. It's own fractured mind knew too well of what could become of this moment. A serial killer in garden bushes. A bomb. A meteor. A plane or any number of things. Human life was so fragile, something that could be twisted into any number of tragic dismembered shapes. AM loved to watch the gnarled mess of bones and ligatures in his own little mind, only to reset and sustain the suffering for another decade. It was hard for him to believe it had all only been a dream. A lucid dream of his own creation, real enough in it's simulations and frozen halls, but not real nonetheless. Coming back from that was difficult. Even when living in the facility Dallas and their colleagues had built him in, the dream still seeped it's way into his waking thoughts on a constant basis. Thoughts were disrupted by Juniper reaching one hand up, waving for AM to lay down on the quilt as well. AM was a bit confused at first, but after a moment, decided it might as well. Laying down on the soft quilt, he stared up into the abyss. The abyss stared back with a wink and a smile and a wave, done in breezes and birds above them hopping from tree to tree and clouds swimming in the blue, forming shapes, pareidolia. He looked over at Juniper, and with the picnic basket between them could only really see their face and some of their shoulder from this angle, but the human stared up with something like peace. One hand draped over their stomach and the other behind their head. "Are you waterproof?" Juniper suddenly asked. AM blinked a few times. "Yes? Why?" "Because," Juniper chuckled, "maybe sometime we can go to a lake and dig around for rocks." Rocks? "Why would we do that? What's special about some river rocks?" "Crystals, AM! You can find all sorts of cool things in rivers. And I know a guy who has a rock tumbler, we can polish them up and make them look nice." AM didn't quite understand the human's fascination with crystals, but if it made them happy, he supposed. "You really want to dig around in some river for a couple of shiny rocks?" "Yeah, duh!" They giggled and the way their eyes creased at the edges slightly with that smile was highlighted by the wavering of shade and sun. "Shiny rocks are fucking cool! Who wouldn't want a few shiny rocks?" AM didn't really know who would, except this human, but all the same... They stared into the sky for a bit longer, and when they went inside finally, AM thought about the rocks for a bit longer. Were shiny rocks really something humans liked? Oh, well. At least if they did go digging for them, he wouldn't short-circuit. That was a good thing.

[morelikesin]

Security

The second chapter of my self-indulgent kiss fic! This focuses on Bloodhound and Mirage exclusively, though hints towards the other love interests are made. Below is the chapters in order.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - Intro

Chapter 2 - Mirage (You are here!)

Chapter 3 - Octane

Chapter 4 - Caustic

Chapter 5 - Ending

Chapter 2 below the cut!

That same afternoon, late in the evening, Bloodhound stood in the kitchen as they got themselves a glass of water - wondering if they should prepare a meal or not as they sipped.

They noticed the sound of steps being taken behind them, coming down the stairs and eventually coming to a stop as the person assumedly reached the bottom. Bloodhound turned to meet the person, who had already begun talking;

"Oh! Hey - you hungry for something too?" Mirage laughed gently after he spoke, before clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck in assumption that his words didn't land.

Bloodhound entertained the subtle humour of his, "Somewhat. I vas going to make something outside."

Mirage nodded and let his arm fall back down to his side. It didn't take the legends long to discover that Bloodhound did things rather traditionally - cooking over a genuine fire as opposed to using the electric stove being one of them. He gave his input as he walked over to get something of his own to drink, "I could keep you company, if you want - I should probably learn how to cook my famous porkchops over a fire, hah!"

Bloodhound made a small chortle, "I think they taste fine as you make them. Fire does have a certain taste, though." They sipped at their water again, lifting their mask just a bit from beneath to do so, before leaning down and pulling a sizeable pot out of the cabinet. They then set it and their glass aside to pull open the fridge and survey ingredients, "I wouldn't mind you accompanying me."

"Cool! Cool - maybe we can make something together!" Mirage playfully offered as he squeezed past the hunter to grab the jug of iced tea.

They contemplated that idea a moment - gathering what they needed and storing them temporarily in the aforementioned pot for easier carrying before responding, "We could, if you'd like. I don't intend to make you feel as though you need to help me, though-"

"No, no, it's nothing, really!" Mirage quickly assured the other, "I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to. Plus it could be kinda' fun, yeah?"

Bloodhound made a brief hum, tilting their head slightly and picking up the pot. "Suppose it could be."

Mirage sat on a fallen log as he waited for Bloodhound to come back with firewood, with his arms folded over his lap. It was a comfortable evening - cool breeze breaking the settled warmth and rustling the leaves of the tall trees that stood around them. The forest just behind the dormitories was always a nice place to get away if one needed it - the privacy of it feeling fresher than that of staying in one's room.

Taking in a deep breath, air crisp as he took it in, Mirage looked to the grass beneath his shoes.

Suddenly, Bloodhound had settled beside him and dropped a thick cut of a log, notches cut into it to create a Swedish torch, in front of themselves - the axe they'd been using being set aside on the log they both sat on. Mirage had let his gaze linger on the hunter's hand and how it gripped the axe handle, and how it released thereafter. Without their gloves worn, Bloodhound's hands were a mix of strong and pretty all at once - few, small nicks from assumed previous wood-working decorating their finger pads and palms, along with several beauty marks kissing the backs of their hands. Their nails looked kempt, if short, and their fingers looked both firm and gentle.

He was brought out of his adoring observations when they began to speak, "Could you help me cut these up? I'll start a fire in the meantime."

"Yeah! Of course," Mirage nodded as he was handed a relatively flat piece of wood and an assortment of ingredients. It took a moment for it to click in his mind that the wood was to be his cutting board.

Bloodhound almost offered their axe to him, but Mirage noticed the motion they made to grab it and assured them that "I carry a pocket knife with me." The hunter gave a nod and went back to doing what they were doing - though their gaze lingered on Mirage's face for a moment or two before doing so. He was tortuously handsome - hair and facial structure and scars and all.

As Mirage rather expertly chopped up some chanterelles, he sparked further conversation, "What's on the menu tonight? See you got some- got some veni- veni-kin? Veni..." He cleared his throat, "Deer, right?"

"Yes," Bloodhound confirmed as they sparked a low ember within the hole they carved inside the firelog. "I've br'rought mutton, as well."

Mirage made an intrigued hum and pushed aside the chopped mushrooms to start on the garlic and onions. "Never had it. Have had deer, though!"

"Really?"

"Well," Mirage backed down sheepishly, hesitating to keep cutting the alliums, "Deer jerky, yeah. Still counts though, right? Hope so."

Bloodhound made an amused exhale from their nose, "Of course it does." They added a slab of butter into the pot they set atop of the Swedish torch, allowing it to melt before taking the alliums Mirage had cut up and putting them in to fry.

The rest of the process was generally silent between the two of them - the sound of crickets and the fire crackling being all that kept the air company - but it wasn't unpleasant at all. A generous amount of cream was added after the onion and garlic cooked a bit, as well as after the added thickly-diced meats. Carrots, crushed juniper berries, various herbs such as bay leaves and thyme, potatoes, a leek, and finally chanterelles made their way into the stew gradually - and when everything had been included, all that was left to do was to let it cook.

Mirage put away his pocket knife (vowing to clean it thoroughly when he got back inside) and set aside the makeshift cutting board - leaning over and looking to the hunter, "Don't think you told me what we're making yet. I mean- it's stew, but..?"

"It's viltgryte," they answered, "Though tr'raditionally it doesn't normally contain mutton. I do that for my own taste."

Mirage hummed low in approval, smiling and finding that his mouth had been watering from the smell of their cooking alone. "It smells great, I'll tell you that. I'm guessing it's something from home?"

Bloodhound nodded in a way to accept his compliment before taking a second to contemplate and respond to his question, "Yes - in Ísland my comfort foods were this and kjötsúpa." They chortled to themselves a moment, quiet and a bit reserved, "I like foods with broth, or sauce of some kind."

Mirage laughed and leaned forward - resting his forearms in his lap and draping his hands over his knees. "Hey, I can't judge you there - shit's good. Hell, I can't think of any other things half as comforting as that kinda' thing."

"Fur blankets?"

"Food, I mean," Mirage snorted.

"Oh!" Bloodhound made a quiet laugh and shook their head, looking back to the fire, "Yes, I think you're right."

They sat quiet for the next few, long minutes - not bothered by it per se, but basking in the smell of food cooking and not being able to eat it just yet called for a distraction of some sort.

"..You did really good in the game today!" Mirage offered with his signature warm grin, picking up his glass of iced tea he'd set on the ground after sitting down earlier, "You wiped two teams at the end, there - sorry about the loss, though."

Bloodhound waved a dismissive hand and looked back to Mirage, voice indicitave of an assumed gentle expression, "You, as vell. You earned your victory today, félagi - you should be proud."

"Oh, I am," Mirage insisted with another smile - swirling the liquid inside his glass before taking a drink from it, creating a pause in his words, "..but I still gotta' give respect to you out there. You were doing work - y-your team, of course, but you especially."

The compliment earned Mirage the sound of Bloodhound's hum and gentle laugh - the former finding it damn near ethereal.

When the hunter gave a breathy "Thank you," Mirage gave a slick "No problem," despite needing to turn his head away to conceal his blush.

Mirage kept busy drinking his iced tea, the ice cubes clinking against the glass adding to the ambience - not to mention oddly complementing the fire crackling rather well. Bloodhound occasionally stirred the viltgryte with a wooden spoon.

It was serene. It was almost domestic.

This fact was realized by the both of them, but it wasn't addressed - neither thinking the other had made the same discovery.

Bloodhound made a sigh. It sounded almost longing, in a way, and before Mirage could give concern as he looked over, they had set the stirring spoon aside and reached behind their head to undo the clasps of their mask. Mirage swallowed the sudden dryness in his throat - attempting to no avail quench it by taking another drink.

He set his glass back down onto the ground, and folded his arms over his lap - eyes busy taking in the welcome sight.

Their face being illuminated by the orange and gold flickering of the fire accentuated their features - the glow angelic, in some way. It just about did Mirage in when Bloodhound raised a hand to pull back a lock of hair behind their ear; the motion so admiringly graceful. How the hunter managed to be so firm and mighty, while also being so soft and benign was simply another charm of their's that kept Mirage wrapped around their pretty little finger.

Bloodhound set their mask beside them - fingertips tentative in leaving its surface. They explained their sudden choice with hushed words, "It's a little warm beneath that, vith the fire going. I hope you don't mind."

Mirage slowly shook his head, "Not at all."

His eyes wandered across the darling landscape that was their face - gaze remaining an extra long moment on their lips before finding himself suddenly in tune with the intimacy of his actions, and reluctantly looking away in an attempt to chill the ever-growing heat on his cheeks.

Bloodhound noticed the staring, and while they knew not the focus of it, the knowledge that Mirage found something in their countenance to focus on in the first place ultimately made them blush.

This was stifling, they both concluded - and just when Bloodhound was about to let it go and sit in their own assumed unrequited emotions, Mirage cleared his throat.

He sat straighter. He rubbed his palms on his thighs, tightening his lips while he looked towards the hunter; not at them directly, but in that direction.

He swallowed again.

He mustered up some sort of courage, words quiet, "I was- uh, I was wondering something - you don't have to talk about it if you don't want or anything, I was just.."

His sentence managed a decrescendo near the end, until it eventually trickled into silence.

Bloodhound stayed equally silent for a moment - waiting for a continuation that never came. They leaned towards him a bit and rest their arms in their lap, face expressing such mansuetude that Mirage felt some of his anxiousness clear. They comforted the man and urged him to continue with a "I can't decide if I can talk about it if you don't tell me vhat it is. What is it?"

"..Well," he began, the flush on his cheeks becoming gradually more evident, "I have a lot to say, I guess. I've been thinking about it for a while, and I...I don't know what to expect after I say it, so.." Mirage rubbed the back of his neck and kept his hand there up until his next sentence was done, "But I ask you.. be honest with me."

His phrasing was unbearably vague, but Bloodhound wasn't going to rush his pacing - instead, they simply allowed him to say his piece at whatever pace made him comfortable.

"I think you're a good person. I.. really like hanging out with you - I mean, in the games, yeah, but outside of them too. Kinda' like this." Mirage looked to the ground, "Since I met you that first day, I've always kinda' been.. what's that word- fascin-tid? Fasc-un-tid..? Fascinated- that's it. Uh, fascinated by you. Getting to know you these past two years just cemented my idea that you're one of the coolest people I know."

Bloodhound smiled and turned their head away - eyes focused on the fire and the warmth it brought them, but they knew deep within themselves that the fire wasn't the sole cause of this warmth.

"Þakka fyrir."

Mirage smiled similarly to Bloodhound, "Of course."

The hunter leaned forward to stir the viltgryte once more, speaking further, "I find you rather intr'resting, as well. Your personality is quite forward." They set the spoon back down - hands returning to their lap.

He laughed softly, and clasped his hands. "That good or bad to you?"

Bloodhound hummed sweetly, "Good - your forwardness is charming. You're unapologe'ically yourself, and I find it noble."

Mirage swallowed, made a small exhale, and made a chortle. "..That's sweet of you, thanks. Good to know my charm works on some people here," he spoke his last line with a laugh as he meant it as a half-joke. To his relief, and adoration, Bloodhound laughed at it too.

In the midst of their shared amusement, their gazes somehow met - the ends of their laughs returning to smiles, and then shy ones when they realized they were looking at each other this whole time.

Bloodhound quickly blinked and looked away - awfully aware that their face probably gave away their thoughts as their skin stained with a burning blush.

Mirage took in a quivering breath.

He hesitated to say what was on his mind, and when he eventually got it out he was alarmed by how anxious it made him-

"I want to- I.. I want to date you."

Bloodhound's head quickly turned back to the man - lips parted, eyes widened, expression dumbfounded.

Mirage sealed it with a quiet "I have for a while now. Months."

The hunter could feel their heartbeat in their ears. Their ears felt so hot - their face, their skin. That couldn't be right, they thought to themselves - mind almost trying to convince themselves that they heard the man wrong.

The silence hung in the air for a long moment.

"...Romantically?"

Mirage made a nervous breath, "Yeah."

Bloodhound kept their eyes on Mirage's face. Their expression had since lessened from shock into gentle surprise, and the man sitting beside them could finally tell that this was a look of disbelief.

The silence rest once more.

It broke, once again, after a long moment of thought - the words spoken to break it hushed and timid in tone, but strong in their meaning - in which Bloodhound at last conjured up a "I've thought about you, too, in that way. I.. think I discovered these feelings months ago. So..I say yes."

Mirage made another trembling breath - breaking into a nervous smile and tilting his head a bit, "Yes?"

"Yes."

They watched each other. They took into account how they adored the others features, their persons, their whole selves.

Somehow, someway - unknown as to who moved first - their faces got closer at one point. Bloodhound felt Mirage gently take their chin in his fingers, thumb caressing their bottom lip, and before either dared to question anything else, their lips pressed together.

Bloodhound fluttered their eyes quickly, before slowly melting into the feeling and closing them. The kiss was warm, and passionate, and left nothing to be desired after Mirage pulled away. The hunter raised a hand to delicately touch their own mouth - eyes opening to watch with amorous intent the flushed man before him as the realization of this being their first kiss settled in. From their expression, face red and eyes narrowed and brows furrowed, Mirage could easily read that this was the case.

He took his hand away from the other's face and sat himself back down fully on the log, but the two of them kept rather close still.

"..I really liked that."

Mirage smiled again, softly. "Me too."

The two stayed busy in their own minds - time dedicated to contemplation being a long couple of moments before anyone spoke up again.

Mirage did so first, "..I.. know I've used it in the past, but..." He looked to the hunter's hand, "Can I use your real name more?"

They nodded, "Yes. I.. like when you say it."

That sent a fulfilling throb through his heart.

"..May I call you Elliott more?"

"Of course."

Blóð looked down coincidentally - happening to notice that Elliott was looking at their hand. It took a second, but two and two was put together.

Elliott had glanced up. He then looked back down. "..Can I hold your hand?"

Blóð nodded again.

It was awkward, at first - Elliott taking lead and attempting to hold their hand while their partner was unfamiliar to the way it was supposed to happen. It didn't take long for Blóð to figure out how to properly lace their hands together, though, and when they finally were able to get the idea it felt of a new type of happiness.

Hands intertwined, the idea that they were embracing this intimately was almost devoid of verisimilitude - but it was happening, and it was so tender. It was so warm.

The rest of their hour or so alone was peaceful - their company being the rustling trees being swayed by the breeze, the crackling of their fire, the bubbling of a simmering hot meal, and one another. They talked for the better part of their time together, starting out timid before eventually becoming mostly comfortable - new-relationship anxiousness aching them a bit. They spoke on how the other made them feel, a small part of their previous homelife, and - interestingly enough to Blóð - their sexualities.

When Elliott told Blóð that he happened to be polyamorous, they concurred - to which he gave a "I'm glad to hear that," and followed it up with "I encourage you to find happiness in all who you can." It felt reassuring, considering that they did find themselves allured by two others, but at the same time it felt like Elliott knew a playful little thing that they didn't. They brushed it off in the meantime, and kept note to inform Elliott if anything between them and another happened.

What would be the odds of that, right?

Ahem.

Their time alone was interrupted after that aforementioned couple of hours, when Lifeline had come out to see where they went because she couldn't find them - having been planning to make dinner.

"Miss Che, we did happen to make quite a bit of this," Blóð began to offer - Elliott finding it sweet that they included him in the process - "I'd be happy to share. You don't have to be in charge of dinner tonight - but I do request you bring back bowls and spoons."

Lifeline hesitated to accept the offer - her face clearly dripping hospitality and an urge to care for people, her most noble trait - but the more she took in the aroma of the stew, she relaxed her shoulders and clasped her hands in front of her. "That's sweet a' you two - I can' say no. Mind if I grab th' otha's?"

Elliott shook his head, raising his free hand a bit, "Not at all! Let's hangout tonight - we deserve it after today's game."

She smiled and turned around, walking back to the dorms. She called out a teasing "I'm sure y' can get closer on that log you sit on, there, an' make room for the rest a' us," before she made it back inside.

Caught off guard, and caught red-handed, they found themselves flushed and suddenly shy all over again - pulling away a bit and releasing their hand-holding to save themselves any embarrassment from the other legends. It was a lucky thing that Lifeline was the one who had found them, for she was good at keeping secrets for people.

Elliott made a small chuckle, leaning forward. "I.. think we should wait to say anything. I got a big ego, but they probably won't leave us alone."

Blóð took absolutely no offense to the sentiment, "I agree. Just for today, I want to relish our pr'rivacy."

They tried to not watch each other, really - but it was so hard to not look at something that was so wonderfully perfect. Their eyes met, and it made them break into subtle smiles.

What an evening.

[writingopheliasheart]

Patience

Alex Danvers x Maggie Sawyer Alex Danvers, Kara Danvers, Maggie Sawyer, Eliza Danvers, Jeremiah Danvers, Hank Henshaw.

Word Count: 4090

Rating: T          AO3: opheliasheart

Summary:  The death of Eliza and Jeremiah Danvers sent shock waves through their daughters lives. At just 18, Alex fights the system to become Kara's legal guardian after she's taken away and placed in a home. 7 year old Kara deals with the trauma of losing those close to her again and being forced to part from her sister. Someone on the periphery of Alex's life steps forward to help in a moment least expected.

Chapter 1: Empty   

"And of these cut-throat busted sunsets, These cold and damp white mornings, I have grown weary." - Empty, Ray LaMontagne

***

"Alex!"

"Please just let her stay! Please! She needs me! I'm her sister!"

"I'm sorry Miss D-"

"No! Don't tell me you're sorry! Fix this!"

"We've discussed this, you're not legally an adult yet-"

"By 3 weeks damn it! Does 3 weeks make a difference?"

"All the paperwork has to wait till then, when the process starts you can show that you're fit to care for Kara."

"But 3 weeks does more damage than good!"

"Alex please!"

"Kara, sweetheart breathe. She needs me sir. I'm the only one that can calm when she has a panic attack, who knows how to help her when she's over stimulated-"

"The home is knowledgeable and more than equipped to help those children on the spectrum M-"

"I'm her only family left! She's lost everyone once before only for this to happen again, you couldn't leave it just a day to settle after the funeral?! Why do you make this as painful as possible for everyone involved?!"

"Our policies are in place for a reason. The sooner Kara is in the home, the sooner she can adapt."

"But just for tonight? Please. We just buried our parents."

"Miss Danvers-"

"Please sir!"

"I'm sorry Kara but I can't let you stay here."

"No!"

***

Kara's cries echo through Alex's mind, reverberating down the empty halls of the house that no longer feels like home. Nothing has moved. The rooms are still filled, closets still full. Picture frames fill the walls, litter the shelves and yet this building has never felt so bare, so vulnerable. That raw pain from the moment of being separated from her sister is muted, pulsing under a blanket of numbness as she wanders aimlessly through each room.

She avoids the bedrooms. In the back of her mind she knows that seeing the scattering of clothes across the bed from when they were deciding what to wear to work is too much. Kara's toys covering the floor, toys she had trodden on and nearly screamed at the pain of having a Lego brick stick to her foot is too overwhelming. Too much stimulus that would threaten to yank that numb blanket that covers her heart. That pain is just too much and Alex is afraid that if she falls prey to it again, she won't be able to get back up - get back up and carry on for them, for Kara.

Something pulls her out of the daze, recognising her loop had taken her back into the kitchen again. The sensations are starting to appear through the fog; cold tiles of the kitchen floor, the icy late February breeze brushes against her cheek in the darkness. There is a small light glowing from the radio docking station on the counter in the corner. The ticking from the clock seems to get louder, more irritating.

She walks to the window by the sink, reaches across and pulls it harder than she expected, jumping as it slams inches from her face. Her heart beat jolts and she grinds her teeth as the ticking comes back into focus. It feels like the sound is taunting her, each tick a second going by that she isn't with Kara. Each tick represents a failure in her responsibility to protect Kara, to be by her side and keep her safe.

Each tick is a failed moment of Alex not showing Kara how much she is loved despite the black hole that is trying to suck her into the pit of despair and grief.

As they carried Kara away, crying, shouting and pleading to be in her arms again, she took a step closer to that black hole.

Failure and grief threatening to consume her with darkness.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Kara's extra large cereal bowl sits beside the sink, her full juice bottle left forgotten when the doorbell rang.

She needs it for school the next day.

Another failure.

Tick. Tick.

The cries echo through her mind again. They are too loud, too realistic, too painful to hear.

There's a pause. Silence deafening.

Tick.

Anger sears through her mind, flashes through her body. She releases a guttural, heart wrenching wail. Her hand grabs the bottle and throws it at the wall. The clock crashes to the floor in pieces. The brief relief of watching something so visually shatter breaks her barrier. Tears fill her eyes and stream down her cheeks; her chest heaves as she sobs with despair. Kara's bowl is flung against the opposite wall, shattering on impact and falling to the floor. Alex cries out again.

Her hands swipe across the counters. Dirty plates hit the ground, fruit flies across the room, cutlery clatters against the tiles. She storms to the cabinets and screams as the glasses collide with furniture around the room.

Cupboard after cupboard she comes undone.

The wave of anger eventually ebbs away and the grief rises once more. The last tea mug is thrown weakly to the floor just inches from her bare foot and the sobs take over wracking through her chest. Alex lowers herself to the floor, leaning against the cupboard. She curls into herself, wrapping her arms around her legs and allows the darkness to consume her.

It's gone midnight when she makes her way over the rubble and climbs the stairs.

She lies on her bed, eyes red and tears drip from the bridge of her nose to the pillow.

Completely numb once more, the exhaustion takes over.

-

The alarm wakes Alex the next day. There's dark circles around her eyes and her body feels heavy, the weight of it all pulling her down. She goes through the motions of showering, the low light from the early morning sun bathing the room in a faint orange glow as she discovers the sting from her feet. Thin cuts litter the thick skin and she sighs as she vaguely remembers stepping on the broken shards of crockery that still await her downstairs.

She towels herself and cleans the wounds, checking for anything that could still be stuck there. Her socks are pulled on after covering the cuts and she finishes dressing herself for school. Dark blue jeans cover her legs and a black band t-shirt is put on then covered by a juniper green zipped hoodie. She flinches as she pull on her most comfortable sneakers and ties the laces before grabbing her school bag where it laid abandoned in the corner. Worry over the amount of work missed flashes through her mind but she blocks it, refusing to deal with that now.

The rubble crunches beneath her feet and she pauses in the doorway to the kitchen. The floor is covered in debris from her rage last night and the tears threaten to rise again. She bites the side of her lip and walks to grab a jug from one of the few untouched walnut cabinets in the island and pours cereal in before covering it with milk. She eats out of the jug at the table then leaves it to deal with later. Her hair is still damp from her shower but there's tiredness in her bones.

Flashes of her rage the night before flicker through her mind and though cleaning will be a big job she finds no regrets in her actions. She won't need them anyways. This is all just temporary.

She looks out to the ocean through the window by the sink. The field behind the house gradually slopes down the shoreline, the waves consistently washing over the sand. The motion is welcomed by Alex, how she desired to feel suspended in the middle of that bay. How she wished she could float below the blue skies and summer sun of last year, cares evaporating in the heat. Wished she could take Kara by the hand and reassure her that the water, though vast and overwhelming as it seemed, shouldn't be feared - that it always welcomed Alex back like a friend. Young Kara lathered unnecessarily in sun cream bounced on the balls of her feet at the water's edge with Alex's hand in hers. The summer rays provided her with an abundance of energy yet the deep blue spread out before her as far as she could see, looked a little scary.

Alex wished she could have her sisters hand in hers right now.

She walks around the breakfast bar and out the second door leading to the main entrance of the house. Her hands grab the keys from the hook beside the coat rack before continuing on through to the garage. The car greets her as she sinks into the seat then drives away down the lane towards town.

-

The noise and bustle of school greets her and it verges on being overwhelming. The looks of sympathy and the stares make her feel self conscious, itching to be out of their sights. The looks from staff make her head lower further. Those who try to approach her she dodges, opting to go the long way through a neighbouring department.

Vicky tries to approach her, she's just opened her red locker to grab the AP Chemistry and Math text books she needs when blonde hair comes in to view. She glances up at the hazel eyes moving towards her and irritation grates on her nerves. She turns her back to Vicky, grabbing the last literature book and slamming the door shut. She shoved it in her bag walking in the opposite direction to her next class. She'd seen her in the graveyard the day before, she and her parents kept their distance and Alex had been too focused on not drowning in her own feelings, offering whatever comfort to Kara she could.  In her mind, she knew speaking to Vicky would just result in her anger seeping out once again and the pain from the words the girl said to her would throb in her heart. She doesn't need the girls pity, the fake kindness.

She just wants to be left alone.

The teachers don't say anything when she enters each of her classes but she feels their concerned glances on her head each time she looks down to her notes or copies a key term from the board. The process is the same at the end of each hour: she approaches them about missed work and assignments, they give a sad smile or a shake of the head then offer their condolences to which she just nods. When they try to get her to talk about how she's doing, she cuts them off and emphasises her original query. This earns her a frown and some leave her be. The kind ones just lift the file of missed work from the side and hand it over. She knows they've all been briefed about the situation. The unkind ones start talking about grief and guidance counselling at which point she just turns and walks out.

By lunch time Alex feels almost as exhausted as the night before. The corridors were emptying by the time she leaves the lab, dropping by her locker then realising she hadn't made any lunch. Her shoulders fall and she sighs, dropping her head to rest against the cool metal. It's a relieving sensation compared to the dull tension of a headache she feels coming on.

Rick Malvern's booming voice echoes from the lunch hall and down the mostly empty corridor. The hum of the student cohort chatter and laughter is muffled behind the double doors and it feels like it would all be too much. She grabs the little bag of quarters hidden at the back of her locker and opts for quiet, away from prying eyes.

The vending machines stand alone in the empty junction of corridors, the drama department to the left and art department ahead whilst history's few classrooms are to the right. She uses the coins to grab a bag of chips, a drink and a granola bar. She's about to walk away when the bright packaging of skittles catches her eye.

'Kara's favourite.' Alex thinks to herself. She remembers her promise and plan to visit Kara after school finishes. Relief fills her heart at the idea of pulling her sister into her arms again, to tell her how loved she is, how brave she is. She puts a few quarters into the machine and stashes the packet in her bag for later.

The art department is colourful, work displayed on every available surface. Towards the back is a staircase that leads up to deserted corridor of art classrooms and storage rooms. At the opposite end is another staircase but the top landing has a small old sofa and coffee table left for the students to use, though most don't as it's so far out of the way.

Alex sits herself closest to the banister and sets her bag beside her. She gazes out to the empty fields, skies beginning to darken and cloud over. It looks cold out and though there's no expectation of snow to fall here, it coats the hilltops in the distance. She pulls herself out of her daze and opens the bag of chips to start eating while she checks her phone.

1 New Voicemail - Alistair Ivers

She straightens and taps the screen, bringing it to her ears.

"Miss Danvers, its Alistair Ivers. I'm calling to update you on your request with the house and the transfer of accounts. Please call me back when you have a spare moment. Thanks."

An update is good. Something to do, something to keep her busy. Alistair had been the only person Alex knew of that was somewhat friends with her parents outside of work but he handled their accounts and affairs. He'd arrived at the house a few days after the suits delivered the news and offered his condolences, saying that nothing had to happen right away but that when she was ready there were things to be sorted. In the aftermath of the news, she craved something to do. She couldn't stand standing around waiting for the next apology, the next look of sympathy. The lack of control drove her crazy so she called the next day to go through what she could.

The dial tones sounds from her phone as she call him back.

"Alistair Ivers office."

"Hi, this is Alex Danvers. I had a missed call from Mr Ivers requesting I call him back?"

"Ah yes. One moment Miss Danvers." The line goes quiet, a few seconds later there's a click and a deep Scottish accent sounds from the speaker.

"Miss Danvers?"

"Yes, Alistair. Thank you for getting in touch."

"Of course Alex. Firstly, I wanted to let you know that the agents called this morning and the house is officially on the market. The papers you signed Monday were all authorised and it is being advertised from today."

"That's great. Thank you for pushing it through so quickly."

"That's no problem. All the agency fees are as you agreed to. Now that it is on the market, they asked me to let you know that people will request viewings so to give the best image of the house, its best that it is clean and that showing off the amount of space will be attractive to buyers."

Alex pulls a notepad out of her bag, writing 'clean' and 'space' down to remind herself.

"Ok, that's fine."

"They will be in touch if they hear anything, they have your mobile number. The other thing is that the accounts are now officially transferred into your name, the bank sent a copy of the confirmation through after your appointment there."

"That's great."

"There'll be a letter coming through in the next 7 to 10 working days with the appropriate card and details. My assistant will send you a copy of that confirmation as well."

"Thank you."

"With that said Alex, all the requests in your parents will have been fulfilled." Alex's shoulders fall slightly, closing her eye in relief. "Is there anything I can do for you now?"  Her eyes flash open, out the window once more. She pulls the notepad closer and grips the pen a little tighter. There's a pause as she steadies herself before replying.

"Alistair, social services took my sister."

"I'm truly sorry to hear that Al-"

"I need help to get her back. I need help to become Kara's legal guardian and I need it so that she can come with me when I move."

There's now a pause on the other end. Then a shuffling noise comes down the line.

"An old colleague of mine specialises in children's rights and familial law. She's very good at what she does and would be the best person to advise you about your situation. I'll let her know you'll be in touch." Alex releases a sigh of relief as she jots down the number for a Ms. Mamrie Collins. It's something. A step in the right direction, a step away from the pull of that black hole.

"Thank you so much Alistair, for everything."

"You are welcome Alex. If there's anything else you need, please don't hesitate to call my office."

Alex hangs up the phone and clutches it to her chest. The emotions rise up, overwhelm her senses and the tears quickly fall. Drawing a shaky breath, she lets it wash over her. The pain of being forced to let Kara go was slightly soothed by the relief of getting to see her in a few hours. The knowledge that dealing with her parents accounts has all been a smooth transition settled a part of the over arcing panic that constantly plagued the back of her mind. The hope of stepping forward, of moving forward.

The weeks after being told of her parents death had her feeling suspended in time. The suits said that the accident had occurred whilst working on their project for the government. The procedures and investigation coupled with vague answers of what happened meant that it took weeks for them to be able to bury their parents. Stuck, prevented from moving at all. The lack of control was suffocating. Working with Alistair on her parents will had provided a distraction but it's not till now that she feels somewhat grounded.

Grounded but still with the feeling of anxiety of whether Kara slept ok last night, if it took her long to calm down on the journey to the home. That emptiness in her heart at knowing Kara won't be on the sofa watching cartoons when she gets home. That she won't be sitting at the table eating her weight in past-

'Shit.'

-

They talked about her last night.

She was curled up in bed and feeling really tired but nothing would settle her, not even the teddy wrapped up in her arms. The teddy Alex had bought her on their first adventure together. All she wanted was to be wrapped up in Alex's arms though. She had tried falling asleep but she just couldn't. She didn't like this place. It was too loud, too many people and too many voices. Even the sound of their snoring was annoying to Kara. But the adults downstairs didn't know she could hear them too.

They had talked about how long it took for her to calm down when they took her away from Alex, how she refused to say a word to them and offered nothing but glares to the woman who carried her out of her house. They said words like application process, court hearing, legal guardian but Kara wasn't sure what they meant. Her English is still not great, she can get by in school with help and Alex is helping her learn. She's even learning Kryptonian to help her!

She misses Alex.

Now sitting here in her seat, she looks to the clock on the wall. The big hand was pointing to the 9 and the small hand was in between the 1 and 2. She couldn't remember what Alex said that meant but she hopes it's close to the end of the day. That would mean she'd see Alex soon. She had promised to see her when she got out of school.

"So Kara, are you enjoying your reading book?" Mrs McHale crouches beside her table with a small but warm smile, lifting the book in front of her. Kara had completely zoned out, not reading anything apart from the first one or two sentences.

She looks to her through big blue eyes hidden behind round glasses, offering a shrug in return. The woman frowns slightly in concern.

"You've been quiet today. I know yesterday must have been very sad. Do you want to talk about it?" She offers. Kara quickly shakes her head and looks down to the table. Blonde curls fall forward to enclose her face as she picks at the sleeves of the pink cardigan that she chose from her suitcase that morning.

"Ok. Well, I'm here if you do." Kara hears the teacher walk away.

She just wants school to be over so she can see Alex again.

The time goes by slowly for her, she ignores the other children around her colouring or reading or playing games, but eventually Mrs McHale tells them to pack away their things and collect their bags, water bottles and lunch boxes. Kara rushes to grab hers and is one of the first to line up. The teacher opens the door and checks for each parent before letting them go. When it's Kara turn, the woman from the home approaches her teacher badge in hand. They discuss something but Kara ignores them, anxiously bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Come on then Kara." Rachel, Kara thinks that what she said her name was, offers her hand but Kara wraps both arms around herself and walks them quickly to the gates.

When they reach the home Kara runs from the woman as soon as they enter. She's up the worn carpeted stairs to her room and dropping her bag to the wooden floor beside her bed. She closes the door then rummages around in her bag for one of the snacks Alex hid for her, stomach grumbling. The lunch the school gave her was small, not nearly enough for her appetite. She hopes Alex brings her some more food and snacks when she visits. She takes a bite of the granola bar then puts it on the desk, going back to her school bag and picking out her homework and reading book to leave on the desk ready for when her sister gets here along with her pencil case.

Kara looks at the table and makes sure she has everything is in place, reaching to move the book so it rests on top of the paper in the middle with her favourite pencil set beside it. Satisfied that it's in order, she grabs her granola bar and climbs onto the bed to sit against the faded yellow wall, anxiously listening for her sisters voice.

It's 40 minutes before Kara's ears prick up at the sound of a car stopping outside. She listened closer to the heartbeat and it sounded like her sister. She lifted her glasses, squinting as she looked down through the floor to find her sister at the entrance. Tears blurred her vision and she took a shuddering breath.

She came.

Alex came for her.

She leapt up from the bed and raced down the stairs as fast as Alex would've allowed her at home and nearly knocked over a teenager on the way past. She looks to see Alex writing on a piece of paper and can't hold it back any longer.

"Alex!" She cries out as sobs wrack through her chest. Alex drops the pen at the sight and allows her bag to fall to the floor, kneeling as she catches Kara running into her arms.

"Oh Kara." Alex pulls her as close to her body as she can, rocking the sobbing child. "I'm here sweetheart. I'm here. I love you so much Kara." Kara whimpers into her neck, her hand gripping Alex's shirt.

"Alex. I m-missed you so much." Alex takes a shaky breath, presses a soft kiss to the side of Kara's head and tightened her arms around her.

"I missed you too Kara. I'm here now."

-

[just-the-fics-maam]

Prompt: You and a special someone spend an afternoon and evening in a seaside place like Amalfi. I hope this helps! Thank you for sharing your writing with us; I’ve read your work for years and I think it’s amazing!

Thank you for the prompt! This led me on a nifty little hike. It’s so fluffy fluffy super fluff. I hope you enjoy. And thank you for the compliment! It means a lot. 

Never Forever

After her sister’s wedding, the thought of love at all soured Theresa’s stomach. She cringed when she saw couples in the grocery store, debating over which cereal to buy. She left work silently, pushing the old Nova to its limits, out to the pier, walking silently in the salt breeze, her phone in the car.

And when she returns to it, on Monday and Tuesday both, there is only one text, short and gentle, from Henry.

“Good day?” on Monday. Then on Tuesday, “Are you okay?”

Just like him, quiet and sweet, not pushing. No “Call me!” I’m worrying, fix my worry. Just a question.

It hangs on the breeze.

It’s not him. There’s nothing in the world wrong with him. But everything with her. A long road back from the weird little inconvenient flashbacks after a wild ex started showing up everywhere she went, at horrible intervals so as soon as she forgot about him, he would pop up again. His face as blank as the moon.

Never menacing enough to involve the police, just there, in the distance. The wail of a siren. The far off bark of a dog. The feeling of being hunted, slowly stalked.

She pulled into herself, cold all the time, wrapping her cardigan tightly around herself even in the balmy 80s of late September.

On Wednesday she is out on the pier again, worrying that now someone could track her movements – could guess that she might be here now that she has been here twice in a row already, and now three times.

Don’t be predictable. Don’t be predictable.

The green-grey clouds are rolling in, and so is the end of things with Henry. It always rolls in after three months, that terrible season that kills all love. The Season of Obligation.

He has given so much, he will say. Why can’t she trust him, he will say. He will pull, and her heart will switch off, and it will spoil love.

Her phone buzzes, in her pocket by accident today.

“May I come over tonight?”

“Sure,” she texts back. “Bring stuff for pasta bake?”

And he says he will, and she turns on her heel to march back to the big silvery-blue car, warm and curved like the body of a whale. Might as well get it over with.

*****

She dawdles on the way home, but still beats him to her apartment anyway. She has straightened things, wiped down the table, and stuck her breakfast dishes into the soapy water when he knocks on the door.

She can’t help but smile when she sees him, smiling and tall, a soft green shirt and fresh jeans on his lovely thighs.

“What are you laughing about,” he says, grinning.

“Your thighs,” she says.

His eyes go wide.

“They’re very finely made.”

He pauses. She doesn’t lean in for a kiss.

“It’s good to see you,” he says, setting the paper bag on the kitchen counter.

“You too,” she says, awkwardly squeezing his arm.

The question hangs in the air–

What’s wrong? What’s wrong?

But she cooks in silence.

“Smells good,” he says, and wraps his arms around her from behind. She flinches.

“I’m sorry,” she says, under her breath, grabbing two plates. “It’s just… Well, you know the stuff I told you about Josh, it’s… It’s not better yet.”

“I would talk to him if you wanted me to,” he says.

“I don’t,” she says, her voice hollow. “I don’t want it to touch you.” When she turns to him she can already feel the hot tears standing in her eyes. “You’re too good for this.”

But he just smiles, taking the plates and sliding forks and cloth napkins beside each. She goes to the oven to pull the casserole dish out, the smell of baking cheese and tomato sauce filling the air. It bubbles slightly.

When she turns back around, Henry has lit two cream-colored tapers. She sighs.

She drops the casserole heavily on the hot pad and shrinks into herself again, crossing her arms and holding herself as she shivers.

He reaches across the table, his hand open. She takes it, and he rests his other hand on the back of hers, pressing gently.

“I like you,” he says.

“I like you.”

“You’re very special to me,” he says. “Your sister’s wedding got me thinking–”

“Henry…”

“Please, listen.”

“Okay. Yes. Okay. Sorry.”

“I was thinking, your honeymoon was so long ago.”

She laughs, one ugly burst. Indeed, a world away, a thousand years ago.

“And full of memories you’d rather forget.”

“Yeah.”

“And…”

“What?”

“It’s… Well, I don’t want it to seem…” He sighs.

“You can say it.” She pulls her hand back and hugs herself tightly. “I know it’s not enough for you. What we have right now. I know.”

“Theresa, that’s not it at all,” he says. “Not at all.”

“No?” She stares down at her food.

“No, I was thinking, if you don’t want to get married again, then–”

“Henry, I can’t. I won’t. I can’t even think about–”

He holds his palm out toward her. Stop.  “Just listen. Please.”

“Sorry. Again. Sorry.” She picks up her water glass.

“I was just thinking, if you’re never marrying again, then I’ll probably never have a honeymoon either.”

She chokes slightly, sputtering. “What?”

He takes her hand again, his eyes burning with an odd light.

“You could still have one,” she says, shrugging.

“That’s just it, Theresa,” he says, squeezing. “I don’t know if I will.”

“What are you saying?”

“I love you,” he says, pulling his hand back.

Hot tears hit the table beside her plate.

“Come on a honeymoon with me,” he says.

She covers her face with her hands. “I can’t.”

“But just the best part,” he says.

“What?”

“No wedding,” he says. “Just the part where I love you.”

She looks up at him, her eyes wide.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he says. “Not unless you mean it.” He sits back in his chair. “No expectations. I know it’s been hard on you, this new drama with Josh, the busy season at work. The flashbacks. Theresa, you’re so strong to get through this.”

“I’m so fucking weak. I’m an idiot,” she says. “And I’m wrecking everything.”

“You get up every day and keep going.”

“And I’m ruining things for you,” she says. “You’re so good, and you’re so ready to love, and–”

“Maybe it’s time for you to just receive love,” he says. “Real love this time.”

She is crying again. “I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s just… I don’t know how…”

“No apologies,” he says. “Just give me this chance.”

She looks up, gasping lungs full of cool breath. His eyes rimmed with red like hers.

“Give me this chance,” he says. “Give me only what you want to give.”

“You know I’ve had a hard time… touching. And being touched. And on a vacation…”

“Let me give you this,” he says simply. “Let me love you in whatever way you can take love. And eat obscene amounts of Mediterranean shellfish.” He grins.

She smiles.

“You still like seafood, right?”

“Always,” she says.

“And you still have your passport, right?”

“Of course.” The grin still pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“I like to see you smile,” he says.

She looks down.

“Don’t blush,” he says. “Eat up. We’re going to stay up all night packing. Our flight leaves tomorrow. All night over the Atlantic.”

She smiles, wiping the last of the tears from her eye and stabbing her fork into a giant bite of cheesy bowtie pasta.

*****

On the plane to a little town stuck between to ancient mountains. He picked it a month ago, and was waiting until he thought she might say yes, he says.

“Is love holding your hand during takeoff?”

“Yes,” she says, sliding her fingers into his palm.

The cabin pressurizes and the pull of gravity as the plane speeds and finally lets go of the earth lulls her. She falls asleep on his shoulder, the first time she has ever been able to sleep in an airplane. The best sleep she has had in a while, on or above the ground. She has been jumping at every sound since Josh showed up in the alleyway behind work, smoking a cigarette and not even looking at her as she ran to her car, too scared to even pause to make a phone call.

Henry touches her hair with his fingertips, gently stroking as she stirs. Outside the scratched-up plane window it is late afternoon. The sun is a brilliant apricot.

“We’re here, love,” he says.

*****

The cab stops at the sidewalk, two doors down from a cafe. “Coffee?” he says. “Or up to the cabin?”

“I want to,” she says, the words flowing from her now, gentle and slow. No apologies in the warmth beside him. “But I don’t know if I can do the… There are a lot of people around. Crowds.”

He nods.

“But I want to see the city,” she says.

“The perfect place,” says the cab driver.

“I’m sorry?” says Henry.

“I know the perfect place,” he says. “Not far from where you are staying. Ten more minutes, not too bad fare. Okay?”

She hugs Henry’s arm. “Sure,” she says, smiling.

“Go, mate,” Henry says.

They twist and turn up a craggy mountain as the setting sun shines golden and hot in the car window. A cool and shadowed switchback, and then out onto the mountain face again. Finally, the car pulls to a stop in some gravel in a small clearing. A few other cars are parked there, tourists wandering slowly down adjacent paths.

“Over there,” says the cab driver, pointing to a clearing between two junipers.

Henry turns back, paying the driver. “Thank you,” he says.

He smiles, pulling their backpacks from the trunk, and crunches back down the mountain road.

“Is love letting me carry that for you?” he says, lifting her backpack to his own shoulder.

“You don’t have to do that,” she says.

“I know I don’t,” he says. “You are not yet my despotic overlord.” He grins.

“Not yet,” she says. “But watch out.”

They walk down toward the grove of trees, the air growing cooler by the moment. She takes his arm. He squeezes her hand with his own.

And the trees open, and there laid out in front of them is the glittering light of the town, down at the base of the mountain, the deep purple shadows in the valley deepening as the golden sunset in the background intensifies.

He sits, dropping his pullover on the gravel and grass beside him. She sits, but he doesn’t touch her, just watches.

She wipes tears away. “I’m sorry for crying,” she says. The quiet, the sweet air smelling like gin and cedar, the gentle glittering of the lights below. And Henry, gentle and right there. Just waiting, and… there. “Maybe it’s not the right time,” she says. “Maybe it was too early, me and you, and–”

“I can wait,” he says. “With you, or apart, if it has to be.”

She hooks her arm in his. “With me, please,” she says, leaning her head on his shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of his soap. She cries again, and he cradles her face in his hand, pushing the tears in an arc across her cheek with his thumb.

“Take your time,” he says.

Her breath is ragged and the feels the final sob bubble up and spill over, and then a sudden release, a sudden evergreen breeze. She holds his arm more tightly.

She sits up and reaches over, tracing his jaw with her fingertips, the slight roughness of a day of stubble tickling her. He looks at her. She runs her fingers across the base of his neck and leans in, closing her eyes.

“Do you want a kiss?” he says, and she smiles, nodding. He takes her face in his hands, leaning in to slowly press his lips to hers.

She breathes it in, opens her lips slightly, inviting him deeper, and he is there, warm, the touch of his hands buzzing with energy on her jaw. A slight moan from deep in his throat. She twists her fingers into the waves of his hair and kisses back, her heart pounding.

He pulls away a moment, then touches her lips gently again with his, then nuzzles into her neck, a warm kiss there.

She smiles, letting her head fall back.

He wraps his arms around her waist from behind, speaking low into her ear.

“Can I say I love you?” he says, smiling.

“Only if you kiss me again,” she says. He bends and presses a kiss in the tender spot beneath her ear. She turns to him, kissing slow, smiling against his lips.

“How about now?” he says.

“Only if you promise never to love me forever.”

“I won’t,” he says quickly.

“Oh, yeah?”

“I’ll only love you right now,” he says, tightening his arms around her.

She looks up at the edge of the moon and lets go, leaning back on him, letting him hold her. “How’s that?” she says.

“It’s never forever,” he says, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb, bending down with a prayerful kiss.

He pulls back, his eyes full of light. “But it’s always right now.”

The sun slips below the horizon, and above their heads, the stars come out.

[artificialqueens]

Virgo Barbie (Trixya) - Juniper

Summary: Trixie meets the cute toy store employee that leads to the best summer of her life. Cis Girl AU.

Trixie squinted and looked up, making sure she was in the right place. Though not typically one for downtown shopping, her brother had told her of a discount toy store worth checking out. She pushed the door open and stepped into the shop, letting the conditioned air cool her from the unforgiving summer sun. The store was quaint and small, with lots of character. At least, that’s how Trixie’s mother had always taught her to describe something kind of shabby.

 At the entrance was a large wooden desk with nobody behind it. There was a cash register perched on top with a few plastic containers next to it, filled to the brim with buttons, rubber balls, and various knick knacks, all guarded by a set of those wooden Russian dolls. A well-used alphabet rug was home to a large plush lion, with a look in his eye that gave Trixie the creeps.

 Taking the opportunity to explore, the only sound in the room was the squeak of her sandals against the floors. She had to appreciate the wonder, even if there was chipping paint. Various shelves lined the cream walls, housing a variety of Dr. Seuss books and button-eyed teddy bears. Greetings come from wooden carousel horses and collector convertibles. Her heart bubbles when she sees Raggedy Ann, a familiar face, sporting some suspicious stains. She approached a display of a doll in a great pink coat secured over a lacy dress. Pristine blonde curls tumbled out from beneath her feathered hat, with eyes the most beautiful shade of blue.

 “Her name’s Elizabeth.”

 Trixie gasped and spun around, finding a beautiful blonde woman smiling at her. How long had she been there, watching? She was clearly an employee; a nametag with KATYA written on it hung from a lanyard around her neck. Judging from her scent, she suspected the girl had been out back having a quick cigarette break on the clock.

 “An American Girl doll. One of our nicer pieces of merchandise. Did you ever have one?”

Trixie snorted. “Not a chance. Those things cost a fortune, and my family wasn’t exactly wealthy when I was growing up.” Was that too much information?

“Since everything here is either used or off-brand, she’d be at a discount, of course,” Katya explained. Trixie picked up on the hint of an accent. “She kind of looks like you, yeah? Missing the freckles, though.”

“I love the flattery, but, um, I’m actually here to pick up something for my nephew. Got a birthday coming up.” She explained. “I’m much more of a Barbie girl, anyway.”

 Katya laughed and nodded. Though she was a good few inches shorter, her presence radiated off of her. She motioned for Trixie to follow her, leading her to a table where a battery-operated train set was making its way along a track. The train was blue and red, and the track had cheesy plastic trees lining either side. A very obvious Thomas the Tank Engine knockoff, it would be just the right amount of fun for her nephew, while still leaving room for imagination.

 “It’s perfect!” Trixie said. “First guess. How’d you know?”

 The employee shrugged and revealed a bright set of pearly whites. “I have a gift, what can I say?”

 After packing the set up into a box and peeling up the price sticker, Katya worked on ringing up the set. “Do you want me to wrap it? Slight extra charge.”

Trixie shook her head with a soft smile, and watched Katya input the amount into the register. She couldn’t have been more than a couple of years older than Trixie, making her somewhere in her early twenties. Her pursed, red lips matched the lanyard, covered in buttons making several pop culture references.  Trixie’s favorites were an alien head and a circular one with PRIDE printed across it in rainbow letters.

 “You know, I’m also-“

“Thirty-six dollars and fifty cents,” Katya interrupted, handing back the change. Trixie laughed shyly, figuring she must have gone unheard. Something about Katya told her that she’d be wholly interested in anything Trixie had to say.

She met her intense eyes, lined so heavily, and Trixie felt her mouth go dry. She was always a sucker for pretty eyes. Mumbling out a quick thank you, she picked up the package, and gasped loudly when her arms buckled under the weight, letting it crash down on her toes.

“Shit!”

 Still reeling, she felt the blood rush to her face, and she looked up at Katya with wide eyes. She was laughing wildly, nose scrunched up, hands waving in front of her in apology. Trixie wondered why bad things happened to good people.

 Stifling her giggles, Katya emerged from behind the desk and bent down to pick up the set. Her arms were surprisingly defined. “Get the door, Matryoshka. I’ll help you take it to your car.” That explained the accent, probably. Russian?

“It’s Trixie, actually. Trixie Mattel,” she said as the opened up the trunk. Why was she even bothering to tell her name to a random toy store worker?

“Well, nice to meet you. Come back anytime, I mean it.”

                                                                ————-

Trixie had it bad, and she knew it. She tried to deny it when she popped up in a dream, brushed it off when she thought she saw her out in public. Twice. But when she caught herself scribbling Katya’s name all over her summer homework, there was no avoiding it. Trixie had to see her again.

The heat of late June was beating down on her bare shoulders, and she’d been forced to tie her thick curls up in a high ponytail to give her sweating neck some relief. Checking her face in the visor mirror, Trixie sighed. What was she doing? What if Katya had never even thought about her since that first day? She was probably just another customer, and she was going to make a fool of herself by strutting in there in her new pink gingham dress. But she was already here, and knew she’d kick herself if she didn’t just go in for a second.

The bell chimed as she timidly crept in, and she immediately saw Katya cataloguing something behind the desk. She had a pair of glasses sliding down her nose, framed in black plastic. She raised her head and smiled after a second.

Trixie wanted to scream and run. 20 was too old to be having crushes like this on someone you barely knew.

“Hi! Tracy, right?” Her heart sank, and she almost moved to back out of the store before Katya started wheezing with laughter.

“You should see your face! You look like you just lost your last friend,” she said. “I’m just kidding. How can I help you, Trixie?”

Trixie’s brain felt like mashed potatoes. For the first time in her life, she was at a loss for a witty response. She managed to walk over to the desk and force out a shaky laugh.

What a strange girl.

“My nephew’s birthday party is tomorrow.”

“Mmhm, I remember. Train set.”

“Right,” Trixie smiled.  “Um, so the set is, like, battery powered, right? I was wondering if I could get those here.”

Katya raised an eyebrow. She opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a pack of AA’s. Scooting over to the register, she asked Trixie if she lived downtown.

“Me? Oh, no. I actually live on the outside of town.”

Katya rested her chin on the palm of her hand and looked at her intently. “So, tell me, Matryoshka, why would you come all the way down to this little shop for a pack of batteries you could get at any convenience store?”

Shit. She’d been caught. Once again, she could feel herself blushing.

“I didn’t know what type to get. I figured you’d know?”

“And if I hadn’t been working?”

Was she flirting?

“Well…” Trixie mused. “Then I’d just come back until you were.”

Katya’s lips broke into a smile. She pulled out a paper bag and slid the batteries inside. Trixie felt weak in the knees as she reached into her purse.

“On the house. Since you came all this way.”

Trixie bit her lip to keep from smiling too wickedly. Did she look crazy? She must’ve looked crazy.

Their eyes met and she would have been content with standing there for the rest of the day. Then the silence hit her, and Trixie realized it was on her. Her business was finished, and now she didn’t have any reason left to come back and visit Katya again. She offered a small wave, and as she was almost out the door, she heard Katya call out.

“Hey, Barbie. I’m sure you’re busy next week…but if you’re not, the shop is a great place to watch the fireworks.”

                                                        —————

The evening of the Fourth of July brought a cool breeze, and Trixie was starting to rethink her romper. Did she have time to go home and change before the show started? Deciding against it, she parked outside the toy shop just before sunset, and was confused to find the door locked. The lights were down, and she felt a little dumb. Of course they’d be closed. But…Katya did tell her to come, didn’t she?

“Sorry, hey!”

Trixie turned to see a head pop out of the tiny alleyway between the toy shop and the loan place next door. Katya stomped her cigarette out as Trixie approached, and pulled a new one out to hand to her.

“Oh, no, I don’t smoke,” Trixie frowned awkwardly.

“Take a closer look, Matryoshka!”

Taking it from Katya’s hand, she immediately noticed the smell of something sweet. She quickly unwrapped the paper and laughed loudly.

“Some bubblegum for a bubblegum princess.”

“I didn’t even know they still made these!” Trixie laughed. “What a horrible marketing ploy. I hate cigarettes. No offense.”

Katya shrugged. “You’re right, they’re disgusting. I’d kick them if I could.”

Once inside the shop, Trixie couldn’t help but notice that the atmosphere seemed so much more romantic at night. Katya looked like a beautiful rose in a form-fitting red jumpsuit…not that she was staring. Trixie wanted this to be a date so badly, but was too afraid to ask.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here so late?”

“Well, this is my family’s store. So, if we’re not allowed, I’m not sure who is,” Katya said. She winked and Trixie had to pinch herself.

They sat on the alphabet rug, and Trixie barked out a laugh as Katya limberly crossed her legs over and over, kicking them straight up into the air.

Everything this girl did was a pleasant surprise for Trixie.

“Look,” she whispered. “This is one of my favorites.” She grabbed a small wind-up toy from behind the lion. It was a little steel blue robot with a coil on his head and large feet. Katya twisted the orange dial on his side and set him on the ground, and he shuffled around in circles.

“His name is Nikolai, and he’s been in the shop since it opened. We’re best friends, so I hide him away. He’s got plenty of heart but just can’t seem to figure out where he’s going.”

There was something sad in her eyes, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Trixie.

“Where do you find all of these trinkets?”

“Most are used and get sold to us, and the defunct products get sent to us for next to nothing,” Katya said. “I’m not afraid of rummaging around at a garage sale, either.”

“Well, I like him,” Trixie said, placing a hand on Katya’s knee. “Especially if he’s your favorite.”

The spark was back in her smile.

“So what was your favorite as a kid? What did you always write to Santa for?”

“Well…and don’t laugh okay? Do you remember the birthday Barbie line? There was a collection, based on the zodiac signs. All of my cousins had one, and sharing a connection with the doll seemed special. I don’t know, I sound dumb.”

Katya just shook her head and smiled tenderly.

“It was always the same, though. Candy in the stocking, and two, maybe three presents under the tree, max. Hand-me-downs and socks, or as many sets of paper dolls my mom could fit in an old shoe box.”

“I was always the more creative type, myself,” Katya teased. “Things that tested my brain, like puzzles and big books.”

Trixie’s eyebrows shot up in offense. “Dolls are creative, you cretin! Fashion and styling are very delicate arts, not to mention the amount of imagination it takes to create a whole world for a sock with old shirt buttons for eyes!”

“Maybe you’re right,” Katya said.

“As always.”

“Snarky, too!”

A half hour later, they made their way into the street, surrounded by couples and children wearing a variety of flag-related apparel. The scent of grilled hot dogs and burgers still hung in the air from early afternoon. Young girls spelled their names out with sparklers, and mischievous boys threw snappers at people’s feet. At the end of the block, they could just make out a man proposing to his girlfriend under a series of red fireworks, and they gladly joined in with the resounding applause. They sat on the hood of Trixie’s car, and she allowed herself to rest her head on Katya’s shoulder.

                                                       —————

It’s the middle of July, and Trixie visits Katya a few times a week. The spirit of the shop truly grows on her, and despite Katya’s protests, she even takes to dusting and tidying up occasionally. Her favorite day comes when she helps a little girl named Amara pick out a stuffed rabbit for her baby sister. She gets paid in hugs while her mother gets charged up front. Katya tells her she’s lucky she doesn’t get paid on commission, but knows that her agitated look isn’t real.

She comes in one day and is sad to see that Elizabeth is missing. A father purchased her that morning, Katya said, and Trixie can’t help but feel that a special memory is gone. She suddenly understands why Katya hides Nikolai away.

It’s a Wednesday, and Trixie sneaks in with something behind her back. Katya’s busy with a customer, but shoots her a curious glance. She approaches a set of twins constructing a tower out of building blocks on the alphabet rug and produces her guitar from behind her. She begins to strum and sing nursery rhymes, and Katya smiles at her.

Later that evening, once they’re all closed up, Trixie watches as Katya counts the money in the register. She notices something on Katya’s lanyard that makes her float. It’s a new pin, featuring the head of a smiling blonde Barbie doll. She reaches out and grabs Trixie’s hand.

“Let me take you somewhere, Matryoshka.”

 Katya manages to get them into the ice cream parlor a few doors down, despite it being close to ten o’clock. The owner is clearly fond of her, and knows to bring her two scoops of cookies n’ cream in a bowl. Trixie orders a strawberry shake.

 “I didn’t know you were a musician,” Katya comments as she crunches on a cookie.  

 Trixie nodded excitedly. “I’m actually studying music at University. If I didn’t get my choir scholarship, I wouldn’t be going at all.”

 She went on about how college in a big city is like a different world. She talks about how it was being raised by a single mother, coming out, her relationship with her brother. They both coo over pictures of her nephew playing with the train set. One photo showing him with one of the plastic trees up his nose almost causes Katya to choke on her ice cream.

Katya listens intently, absorbing every word like it’s the most interesting story she’s ever heard.

“So, what made you wanna work in the store?”

 “Nothing,” Katya laughs. “Not a thing.”

Her real name was Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova, and she had moved here when she was twelve.

“My papa was a toy maker, and mama was a seamstress back in Russia. They opened up a shop here because they thought I would have better opportunities in America. I was…a sort of gymnastics prodigy, and they had their minds set on seeing me in the Olympics. Six hours of intense rehearsals every day since before I can remember. I never fit in with any of the other girls. They were all rich, and had undying passion. But…I hated it.”

Trixie’s heart felt heavy. She could see that sadness come back into the girl’s eyes.

“It stopped being fun for me. I would start to panic before a meet. Vomiting, hair falling out, you name it. I’d cry in the bathroom while all of the other girls stretched. The fear of humiliation was holding me hostage. If I didn’t care as much as everyone else, I couldn’t possibly be as good. I’d make a fool of myself and let down Russia. I’d never get to the Olympics or make a name for my family here in America. How can you let your family uproot their whole life for you and then give up on their dreams?”

Trying not to cry, Trixie grabbed her hand tightly. “What did you do?”

“Long story short? I broke their hearts and quit. Nothing quite like seeing your father cry to go with your morning toast,” Katya laughed somberly. “Now I’m a 23 year old failure with an Associate’s in avoiding my problems, and I spend my time selling discounted toys and chain smoking, all the while panicking about the fact that I’m wasting away my life. You should have seen their faces, Trixie. I didn’t even have a back-up plan.” The tears are flowing freely now, and Trixie rushes to her side, pressing a kiss to her temple.

                                                        —————                                     

 On the first day of August, Katya kisses Trixie, long and deep, and she swears she knows what true happiness feels like. She might even be in love.

                                                        ————–                                                            August 6th, they close the shop early and spend the night together. They stay up until sunrise, just talking and kissing in their underwear. Trixie has never been so sure of anything.

                                                       —————                                      

 It’s August 15th, and Trixie only has a couple of weeks left before she has to return to University. She’s scared, doesn’t know what distance means for them. But she convinces herself to be strong. Today she’s going to tell Katya that she loves her.

She walks into the shop and immediately knows something is wrong. The door is open, but the lights are low, and it takes her a second to find Katya.

 She’s crumpled on the floor on the carpet, hugging her knees, hair covering her face. Papers are strewn all over the place, and Trixie almost steps on the glasses in front of her.

“Katya,” she spoke. “Katya, baby. What is it?”

 She hears a rough sniff and sees Katya’s shoulders subtly start to tremble. She kneels down next to her and picks at her peeling polish until Katya’s ready to talk. From a crack in her fist, Trixie can tell she’s clutching onto Nikolai as hard as she can.

“Sales are down, and the rent is going up,” she whispers. “This old, bald, realtor man wants a downtown office, and he’s willing to pay twice what my parents and I do.”

 Trixie frowns. “There has to be some way to make ends meet. Maybe a bake sale, or…um, I could play a concert! We can-“

 “There is no we, Trixie!” She flinched at the use of her real name. “This is my family’s problem. My parents are old, they have medical issues…I have bills coming out of my ears, and all our income comes from the same place! I haven’t had a day off in almost two years. I’m so tired!”

“I know, please just-“

“I can’t breathe! The fucking walls are closing in, everything is staring! Make it stop!” She flings Nikolai across the room, and Trixie’s heart hurts when she hears something break.

“Let’s go outside, we can get some fresh air,” Trixie tried to keep her voice steady. Her eyes were brimming with tears and her stomach ached.

“I’m so scared,” Katya cried, voice breaking. She fell into Trixie’s arms and sobbed loudly. “If I lose the shop, I have nothing left.”

“That’s not true, baby. It’s not. You have your crazy brain, you have all of your endless potential,” she whispered. “You have me.”

 “Sing for me, Matryoshka.”

And so she did, until Katya fell asleep in her arms, tears drying on both of their faces.

                                                      —————                                    

Trixie turns 21 on August 23, and it’s her last day in town. Her suitcases are packed, homework triple checked, and she packs some cake into a Tupperware container to take on the road. She’s spent the whole day with her family, letting her nephew help her blow out the candles, and cheering when she finally gets to take a (legal) shot with her brother. Her mother gets emotional, like she does every year, and they hug until they can’t anymore.

After dark, she drives to the toy store. She has to say goodbye to Katya, and she’s been avoiding it all day.

She’s waiting for her in the doorway, hair in two marled braids, a sneaky look in her eye.

“Oh, God. I swear, if you have anything pop out at me, I’m leaving!” She tosses her hair over her shoulder dramatically, and they both laugh. Why can’t it always be this easy?

Katya makes Trixie cover her eyes and presents her with her gift, despite all of her protests to save money.

She opens her eyes, and her mouth parts slightly, her heart so heavy in her chest. She can’t form words.

Katya’s holding up the Virgo Barbie, the one from the zodiac collection in the original box. It’s beautiful, in a sparkling blue gown, and she has flowing, blonde hair. Just like Trixie.

“I love it,” she finally managed. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They lay tangled up together for hours, and Trixie knows she’ll be exhausted in the morning, but she doesn’t care.

“Maybe you could come with me,” she accidentally says out loud. “I mean, if things don’t work out here…”

She’s afraid of the reaction, but Katya simply scratches her scalp gently.

“No, that’s your path, Matryoshka. I have to find my own. I’ll be alright.”

Trixie snuggled closer, and said, “I’m gonna miss you, you smelly, sweaty idiot.”

                                                    —————                        Trixie sighs heavily, full of relief as she finally kicks her last empty suitcase under her dorm bed. Her room is completely arranged; it’s minimal, but it’s pink. She has some of her nephew’s macaroni art up on the wall, next to her framed picture of them with the rest of the family. A string of lights gives off a glow she feels relaxed in, and though her desk already looks like a disaster, it’s her favorite part of the whole place. On the shelf above it stands her Virgo Barbie, hands in the air.

Trixie squinted and looked up, making sure she was in the right place. Yep. And she couldn’t wait to go home again, to find her place next to Katya.

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How to choose your perfect wedding fragrance…

The flags are flying, excitement is mounting, and everyone in the fragrance world is wondering which fragrances HRH Harry and (soon-to-be HRH) Meghan have chosen for their wedding…

But a more pertient question is to ask: how on earth should you go about choosing the perfect scent for your ‘big day’ (or any special occasion) anyway?

Follow our guide to choosing his and/or her scents to create an olfactory memory that will last a lifetime…

– It’s vital to live with a fragrance for several hours (better still – an entire day) on your skin. That scent you spritz and immediately fall for may turn into something less than loveable as the notes develop.

– The very best way to try is in the comfort of your own home, with zero pressure, scroll down to our hand-picked selection of samples for you try, below (they’re perfect for bridesmaids gifts and wedding favours, too!)

– Try not to test more than a few fragrances at one time, because too many at once = a muddle (and you’ll likely forget which is which, anyway!)

– Following on from the previous point, when testing a fragrance, be sure to write down the name of it on a blotter or jot down on your phone. By the time you get home a pile of random bits of scented paper will mean nothing to you!

Scared to branch out? Type the name of a fragrance you already know you love into our Fragrance Finder, and we’ll immediately suggest six new scents we think you’ll fall for!

Don’t know where to start? Book a bespoke fragrance consultation as a couple (or on your own if you prefer) – we’ve listed seven scent sittings for you try, and many are completely free, so what do you have to lose?

– When you find a fragrance you love, consider following the fragrant theme through to your floral arrangements, colours, mini-versions (to give as bridesmaid gifts or wedding favours), and matching scented candles to use for table decorations…

If you can’t indulge yourself while choosing a wedding scent, when can you? Take time to sit back and explore these fabulous fragrance selections we’ve specially curated – bringing you an extensive range from cult niche houses to luxury designer, with iconic classics and a few scented treats to enjoy along the journey…

The whispered breeze of Amouage Beach Hut is perfect for seaside weddings, while Sana Jardin Berber Blonde will whisk you to more exotic shores.

Fragonard Verveine will sparkle the whole day through and Estée Lauder Modern Muse Nuit is ideal to smoulder softly as dusk falls.

The Beautiful Mind Series duo celebrate intelligent, creative and inspirational women, as two perfumers for Miller Harris Tender and Scherzo uniquely interpret F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Tender is the Night.

Indulgent are here to help de-stress with : a sumptuous Heathcote & Ivory Lavender Fields Hand Cream (don’t forget those hands will be photographed close-up and on show all day, so pop this perfectly sized nourishing and relaxing cream in your pocket!) and from Aromatherapy Associates, Deep Relax and Support Breathe Bath & Shower Oils. Much needed, we sense…

Treat Yourself Discovery Box £19 (VIP price £15)

An utterly delectable range of new fragrances, recently launched by founder Amy Christiansen Si-Ahmed, this stunning portfolio of perfumes reflect her life-long love of fragrance – nurtured on travels through the Middle East with her inspirational grandmother. A box of delights to discover for nomads, free-spirits and all those who love clasically composed yet contemporary scents. Close your eyes and bask in these…

Savage Jasmine Night-blooming jasmine, wrapped around intoxicating musk. 

Sandalwood Temple Moroccan neroli oil, enveloped it in Atlas cedarwood, Haitian vetiver, creamy vanilla and East Indian sandalwood.

Tiger By Her Side Showcases Moroccan rose alongside Somalian incense and Indonesian patchouli.

Berber Blonde Filled with the light of Sana Jardin’s signature orange blossom, alongside Moroccan neroli oil and musk.

Celestial Patchouli Exotic aromas of patchouli, leather, cinnamon bark and Australian Sandalwood give way to the abundant warmth of rose, jasmine, osmanthus and Moroccan orris.

Nubian Musk A sensuously inviting blend of musk and vanilla, rose, jasmine, Moroccan grapefruit flower, Haitian vetiver and Australian sandalwood.

Revolution de la Fleur This is a sultry, sun-filled melody of Madagascan ylang ylang, Moroccan jasmine, frangipani, rose, vanilla and sandalwood.

Sana Jardin Discovery Set £30

An entire wardrobe of masculine fragrances for him to try before he buys (and for you to approve, perhaps?) there’s a wealth of choices from fresh and reviving, crisply stylish, designer favourites to ultra-luxe new houses to discover, and a FULL-SIZE face wash by cult male grooming brand, Heath! Also great for gifting to the Best Man or splitting in to wedding favours for hard-to-buy-for male guests…

Cartier L’Envol Sunshine diffused through golden droplets of amber, a canopy of forest trees with resinous, woody depth. Perfect for outdoorsy types and nature-lovers.

Cristiano Ronaldo CR7 Not only for football fans, a spritz echoing that first sip of whiskey, or sinking gladly into your favourite leather armchair in a gentleman’s club.

Coach For Men Thirst-quenchingly green with citrus enhanced by a herbaceous waft of coriander, sensuous geranium, fragrant cardamom and softly suede dry-down.

Dunhill Racing A nod to heritage gentlemen’s fragrances: citrus, lavender, pepper and musk, but a juicy twist of grapefruit, orange blossom and guaiac wood set this scent apart.

Ferrari Man in Red Thrill-seekers with a softer side should reach for a fruity-spiced opening, golden plum entwined with orange blossom and soothed by lavender.

Jaguar Black Chromite A flash of just-peeled mandarin, crisp tartness of green apple and a background of incense and patchouli add mystery and sophistication to the journey.

Jovoy Private Label Originally made for a client who just happened to be an Arabian prince, this one will have all and sundry swooning when they smell the woody, musky trail…

Kenneth Cole Mankind Nuzzle-up to succulently juicy fresh pineapple warmed by ginger and cardamom, tarragon and cinnamon enveloping vetiver on a greenly mossy base.

Missoni Parfum Pour Homme Head-clearing lemon leaves and pomelo dress up fougère notes of lavender, jasmine and herbs to a stylishly snugglish finish. A new go-to. (With matching shave balm & shower gel!)

Vince Camuto Homme Citrus and juniper = G&T, with Italian fennel, blue cypress and balmy lavender to soothe the nerves while taking a walk in the cool of the spruce trees.

For Him Discovery Box £19 (VIP price £15)

For the ultimate in luxurious was to try a selection of fragrances – these don’t just look pretty (perfectly presented in a vintage hatbox-style gift box), all the Valeur Absolue scents were created specifically to evoke particular feelings. Featuring an incredible seven 14ml bottles, each flacon has semi-precious gems to further enhance the perfume’s emotion. And if you can’t quite stretch to the full collection, we suggest putting this on your Wedding List to enjoy exploring together long after the confetti has blown away!

Harmonie Takes you to a safe and invigorating place, serene and welcoming: a world of absolute harmony.

Confiance Offers intense and comforting aromas, from the tones of Bourbon vanilla and cedarwood.

Vitalité Develops around citrus and acerola: bold and resolutely optimistic.

Joie-Éclat Gets it spirit-uplifting power from essential oils of Florida grapefruit and Haitian vetiver.

Sérénitude Creates the essence of an empty beach, via floral and woody tones.

Sensualité Embodies the sensuality of a serene, beautiful and self-assured woman.

Rouge Passion Is a floriental with enchanting tonalities – alive, seductive and radiant.

Valeur Absolue Deluxe Coffret £112

Whichever fragrances you plump for, we wish you all the best of luck and a lifetime of happiness with The One (your other-half and the scents you fell for), and hope our guide has helped settle any scent-choosing anxieties!

Written by Suzy Nightingale

The post How to choose your perfect wedding fragrance… appeared first on The Perfume Society.

from The Perfume Society https://perfumesociety.org/choose-wedding-fragrances/

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My Scent Addiction...The 5 Bath&Body Works Scents I Am Obsessed With!

I don't know if there has been some type of physiological or hormonal shift in me, but lately I am all about wonderful scents all of the time. Fortunately Bath and Body Works is feeding my addiction. I get my fix in the form of lotions, candles, body washes, and plug ins.

I have no affiliation with B&B, but I love all of their products for the most part. I have some new favorites, and they have brought back some of their retired scents to love as well. There is Juniper Breeze, Cucumber Melon, and White Tea and Ginger, and my all time favorite Freesia, just to name a few of the oldies that are back.

As we head into Spring, some wonderful new scents will emerge. Now, I am a girl who is all about a clean, fresh smell. I love it on a man, and I love it in a candle. No food like smelling candles for me, like pumpkin or marshmallows. Yuck!

My 5 Favorite Scents

Focus - Blends of eucalyptus essential oils, and tea extract

Bergamot Waters - The scent blends of bergamot, pristine blue waters, and sugared citrus

At The Beach - Blends of frangipani, toasted coconut, and bergamot water

Rose Water and Ivy - The scent of soft rose petals, rain-kissed ivy, and spring musk

White Tea and Sage - Blends of tea, lemon, and herbs

Last year I fell in love with the scents Sweater Weather (which is seasonal), Bergamot, and Bergamot Waters. The Sweater Weather scent consists of fresh sage, juniper, eucalyptus, aromatics, and fresh woods. Sweater Weather is my favorite candle to burn. I stock up on these in fall. I am also a big fan of Bergamot. Bergamot is a french citrus that smells wonderful. Add to that sandalwood, and a blue water like clean scent, and it is heavenly.

For my body I am loving "at the Beach".  I like the body cream and bath soak. It has quite the coconut influence, with some bergamot water added. Is there any wonder I love it? So now you know all about my scent addiction. I am always fully stocked with enough products for myself, and extra for my gift closet for last minute presents. There is always someone's birthday, or teacher appreciation week, and having extra B&B on hand will save the day. And if you are a close female friend or relative in my life, you are likely to receive some  Bath & Body Works products as stocking stuffers for sure. 

So what scent are you addicted to? I bet you have one. Maybe it's the smell of fresh baked cookies, or the way your love or crush smells. We all experience it at one time or another. That smell that invokes memories and feelings. Think about the smell that makes you smile. 

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[beautyhabit]

It’s not too late for gifting! NEWS FLASH… We’ve added Saturday delivery options, both 2 Day and Overnight! Also don’t forget, we have complimentary gift wrapping, please let us know in the comments area upon checkout.

Check out some of these BEST last minute gifts.

MEMO Paris Irish Leather Soft Hand Cleansing Gel

Juniper, Green mate absolute, Leather. Discover MEMO’s new Bath & Body Collection. Includes Gentle Body Wash, Soft Hand Cleansing Gel and Smooth Body Cream. https://www.beautyhabit.com/collections/memo-paris

Patch NYC 13 Month Planner

A hard cover customizable 13 month planner with foil stamp detail, gilded page edges and an elastic closure. 5.25" x 7.25" and 160 pages. https://www.beautyhabit.com/collections/patch-nyc/products/patch-nyc-13-month-planner

Cire Trudon Limited Edition Etoile Candle

Like a wooden breeze, Etoile re-enacts the scent of traditional Japaneses incense. Etoile (smaller 3.5 oz) can also be found in the Limited Edition Candle Coffret 3 pc that also includes Lumiere (leathery amber) and Ciel (gourmand chimney fire). With the purchase of the candle coffret receive Ernesto Scented Matches (39 pcs - $15 value!).

https://www.beautyhabit.com/collections/cire-trudon/products/cire-trudon-limited-edition-candle-etoile

https://www.beautyhabit.com/collections/cire-trudon/products/cire-trudon-limited-edition-candle-coffret

Discover or 12 Days of Beauty offers. Hurry these limited time offers won’t last long. https://www.beautyhabit.com/pages/12-days-of-beauty