A Midsummer Night's Scene, Chapter 4
Rating: 🍦 | Divine wheeled out a makeup palette the size of a craftsman’s stackable toolbox. Meanwhile, Destiny summoned a hair styling trolley and waged war on my hair with an army of hot rollers.
Foxi’s Fancies: A Midsummer Night’s Scene
Copyright © 2025 Linn Rhinehart - All rights reserved
NSFW: Content warnings
Chapter Four
Brighton, Ten Years Earlier
I stood outside the narrow terraced house in Kemp Town, checking the address on my phone for the third time. The building was ordinary enough. A white stucco front with a cheerful red door and window boxes overflowing with geraniums. It did nothing to stop my hands shaking as I reached for the brass knocker.
What if it’s a trap? The thought had been circling my brain like a ravenous vulture all morning. My stomach twisted as I wiped my palms on my jeans for the fifth time. What are you even doing here? This is not who you are, is it?
Except... that was precisely the question that had haunted me for years. What sort of person was I? I saw myself barefoot in the kitchen at 7AM, hair a mess, ticking off Anna’s meds and booking appointments. Always useful. Always on call. Anna’s Foxy was the obvious answer. Anna’s fixer, holding everything together. But who are you when you’re not working for her? Who will you be when she no longer needs you?
The door swung open before I could knock, revealing a vision in purple velvet and perfectly applied lipstick.
“Welcome, dah-ling!” Her voice felt like warm honey poured over cut glass. “I’m Divine, and you’re gorgeous. Come in, come in!”
She swept me into the narrow hallway where every surface seemed to be draped in lace, rich silks, or jewel-toned velvets. The walls were covered in photographs of beautiful women in fabulous costumes. They were all stunning. Sexy, sensual, seductive goddesses radiating raw power. So this is why they talk about the divine feminine? I thought, wishing the floor would just swallow me whole.
“Desti-neeeeh!” Divine called up the stairs, drawing out the final syllable like a cabaret star. “Our Midsummer makeover is here!”
“Be right down, love!” came the reply, followed by the sound of high heels on hardwood.
I was still gawping at the women on the walls, feeling utterly unworthy of even standing in their presence when she appeared. Taller than Divine, with platinum hair piled high and a smile that could power the seafront, Destiny took both my hands in hers.
“Well hello, hello, hellooo,” she said warmly. “Look at those cheekbones! And that hair. It’s like a chocolate fountain. Oh, we’re going to have such fun with this one.”
“No, I… I... I don’t think I’m the right type for this,” I stammered, suddenly feeling very Swedish and very, very awkward.
“Nonsense,” Divine said. “Everyone’s the right type for this, my dah-ling. That’s rather the point. Come on in. Let’s have some chai and a good old girly chat.”
Their studio occupied the entire back of the house. It was a large, airy space with floor-to-ceiling patio doors that let in streams of natural light. One corner was set up as a sitting area with a vintage chaise lounge and oriental rugs, while the rest of the room was a cacophony of glamour and tools of the trade. Professional lighting rigs, costume racks, mirrors framed in theatre bulbs.
“Now then,” Destiny said, settling onto the chaise with the grace of a 1940s film star. “Tell us about yourself, my love. What brings you to the Queer Queens’ Castle?”
I perched on the edge of an armchair, clutching my teacup like a lifeline. “Well, I... You invited me, but I... I don’t know why I said yes. I love your work. Love the way you make everyday people look so… beautiful. So confident. I… I don’t know what that feels like.”
“How come?” Divine asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“I don’t know,” I said, suddenly overcome with emotion. “I’ve never been pretty or attractive. Never been… particularly girly. I grew up on a farm. You know… Practical clothes. Practical boots. No such thing as bad weather. Then, when I was eighteen, I moved to England to take care of Anna. She’s my... it’s complicated, but… she’s my person. And I’m just… whatever she needs me to be.”
“And what about you?” Destiny asked. “What do you need?”
“I don’t know…” I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. No one’s ever asked me that. I’ve never even asked myself that.”
“Come on then,” Divine said, taking my hand and moving toward the racks. “Let’s find out. What calls to you, dah-ling? What kind of fantasies are you keeping in that pretty little head of yours?”
I looked at the row of costumes. Victorian ball gowns. Sleek modern pieces. Corsets and vintage lingerie. Fantasy creations that shimmered like starlight, outfits straight out of the fairy tales. They were all spectacular, but my eyes kept drifting back to one particular ensemble. A flowing gown in shades of green and gold, with iridescent wings as light as spider silk.
“That one,” I said before I could stop myself.
“Ahhh, Titania,” Destiny beamed, “now that’s a brilliant choice.”
“It’s Shakespeare,” I mumbled, feeling silly. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
“So it is. The Queen of Fairies herself,” Divine said, holding the dress in front of me. “She’s powerful. Magical. Knows what she wants and not afraid to take it.”
“But I’m not...” I croaked, my throat tightening. “I’m not like that.”
“How do you know, love?” Destiny asked. “Have you ever tried?”
I didn’t have an answer for that, but I didn’t need one. They both got to work, and within minutes they had me out of my jeans and t-shirt, and wrapped in a soft white robe like a pampered celebrity. This was serious business, but they didn’t fuss or flatter or make a big production of it all. Divine wheeled out a makeup palette the size of a craftsman’s stackable toolbox. Meanwhile, Destiny summoned a hair styling trolley and waged war on my hair with an army of hot rollers.
“Just breathe, dah-ling,” Divine cooed as she began her artistry. “Relax and let us take care of you.”
All I had to do for the next couple of hours was to sit still and try not to cry. When they finally made me turned around, I barely recognised the apparition staring back at me from the mirror.
The gown fit like it had been made for me. Without clinging, the fabric hugged curves I never knew I had. The wings framed my shoulders in a way that almost made me believe I could fly. My hair fell in soft waves, and the makeup... God, the makeup was art. Smoky eyes that belonged to someone who could easily burn down bridges or build new empires. Wine-dark lips curved into a lethal smile.
“Look at you,” Destiny whispered, as if I had a choice.
I had no idea who this creature with skin that seemed to glow from within was, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. It wasn’t Felicia or Foxy the fixer. This woman was someone else entirely. Someone unflinchingly unapologetic who had claimed her space in the world. She was everything I wished I could be.
“How are you feeling?” Destiny asked, adjusting one of my wings.
“Different… It’s like I’m looking at an alternative version of myself. Who I might have been if…”
“This is who you are, dah-ling,” Divine said, resting her hands on my shoulders. “Who you’ve always been. We just brought her back into the spotlight where she belongs.”
Even as we talked, Destiny was capturing these first candid moments between us with her camera. Me staring at my reflection in wonder. Divine adjusting my costume. The raw emotion. The joy we shared. I didn’t know it then, but these were some of the most beautiful pictures of the day.
The formal photo shoot was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I felt stiff and awkward at first. But they were so patient with me. So encouraging. They helped me find poses that felt natural and gradually, something shifted. The gown, the setting, the warm lights all combined to create a little bubble where I almost believed them.
Towards the end, I wasn’t posing as Titania; I felt like I was channelling her. I felt her power in my posture, her sensuality in my curves, and her queenly command in the lift of my chin. I actually felt beautiful. And whole.
“Gawww-jus,” Destiny murmured, camera clicking. “Yes, just like that. You’re a queen, my love. Give me more. Show me that power.”
And I did. I felt the magic flowing like electricity through me. I was a strong, independent woman, and it had nothing to do with how much I could carry or how many problems I could solve in a day. It was all me.
When Destiny said we were done, I was flushed and exhilarated, high on dopamine, but underneath the euphoria I felt a growing dread. Soon I’d have to take it all off. I’d have to wash away the makeup and go back to being invisible. For a few stolen hours, I’d caught a glimpse of who I might have been had fate not ground my life to a halt.
“Right then,” Destiny said, reviewing the images on a large screen. “These are absolutely stunning, love. You’re a natural and the camera just adores you.”
“Thank you,” I said, close to tears again. “This has been... I don’t have words for what this has been. I feel….”
“Oh, we’re not done with you yet,” Divine said with a mischievous grin. “It’s Midsummer, dah-ling. The most magical night of the year. And we know exactly where this queen belongs.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, though I thought I knew. I’d read enough of their blog, seen enough hints in their social media posts, to know they moved in circles I could only dream about.
“There’s a place,” Destiny explained, carefully watching my face. “Very special, very discreet. You’ve read our stories, so you know what I mean. They’re hosting a Midsummer celebration tonight, and you would be absolutely magnificent there.”
I did know what they meant. I’d read about the Den of Desires—a world where dreams came true. Where people could explore fantasies they’d never told a soul about. It had always seemed impossibly exotic. Something braver, more beautiful people than me indulged in. But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what it would be like.
“It sounds incredible, but I couldn’t,” I said automatically. “I should call Anna… let her know I’m safe. And I need to be ready to meet a contractor early in the morning...”
“Shhh,” Destiny interrupted, a finger against my lips. “When was the last time you let your hair down? The last time you did something just because you wanted to feel alive?”
I couldn’t remember. Maybe when I was thirteen? Fourteen? It was years before everything went wrong.
“Just say yes,” Divine coaxed me. “Come with us. Let Titania have her moment in the moonlight.”
I looked at myself in the mirror again. Saw this sexy woman who promised trouble and begged for it too. She knew what she wanted. She was just waiting for me to be brave enough to admit it.
“Alright…” I said, feeling nervous. “Yes, please. I’d like to come with you. But you have to promise to stay close. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“No one does, dah-ling,” Divine said with a smile of pure wicked delight. “That’s what makes it so exciting.”
[Last updated: 05 July, 2025]
Hi, Linn here. Like all the stories about our Spoonie Sisters, this one touches on something deep. If you’ve ever wrestled invisible illnesses and hidden desires, you’re not alone. Wanna talk about it? Message me or drop an email to linnea@aswewrite.com
Foxy’s story has two more chapters to it, and I’m making them free for all readers in July. After that, only the first chapter will be free unless you join our mailing list. Subscribe or upgrade to get the next chapter straight to your inbox. And if you're already swooning, consider telling your favourite bookish spoonie about it.
Where Do You Want to Go Next?
🏠 A Midsummer Night’s Scene
⬅️ Chapter 3
➡️ Chapter 5
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