#u see silver all alone roasting some meat

[dieviskais-moving]

still dont have the new blog up but i keep thinking about the fact that silver does have sharp teef................................................

[2018shawn]

newborn???

I’m soft for dad!Tom atm so how about surprising him that you’re pregnant by giving him a mini Spider-Man suit. 🥺🥺🥺

a/n: I can’t believe how much I’m writing am I feeling OkAyY??? I really loved this request so THANK U I also really enjoyed writing this and think it may be one of my favourite things ever wieghnksd thank u to @shawnsmoose​ for putting up with me annoying her 

a/n 2.0: can we also appreciate the ending bc I feel it is true tom style ... caring ... but not necessary 

warnings: the teeniest tiniest talk of smut until Tom does a tom. swearing I think?? maybe??? fluff???? TESSA. BABIES. HAPPY BYE 

You sighed, looking at the ridiculously big clock on the wall opposite you. 6pm; Still at least another hour until Tom got home and that’s with the best of traffic. Straightening the table runner yet again, you brushed over it with your hands to remove any creases before moving on to straightening the cutlery. It was funny, really; that you thought cooking tom’s favourite dinner would somehow soften the blow of the news you had to break to him.

Okay, you said aloud to yourself, stepping back with your hands on your hips to admire your - if you say so yourself – perfect display. Checking under your seat where you always sat, you made sure the small gift bag was there, just in case you’d dreamt putting it there, nodding to yourself when you saw it sat waiting. Might as well make a start on the vegetables.

In the kitchen, you played some soft music to calm your nerves. You stood in the door of the refrigerator, the light hitting you as you squinted at the half-finished bottle of white wine which was screaming your name. It’s gonna be a long 9 months. Sighing as you grabbed the peach lemonade instead; you flipped it towards the counter, feeling super impressed with yourself when it landed upright. Tom and Jake would never, you thought, laughing to yourself as you recalled their excitement on the plane when they managed to get it in the cup holder in one go.

It was safe to say, after one and a half months of him filming in a completely different country, you were ready for him to return as even the pictures on the walls were rolling their eyes at you talking to yourself. Your phone pinged, and you pulled it from your back pocket before it had even stopped vibrating.

Traffic ain’t too bad. See you soon, baby girl 🥺🏡💛

Can’t wait, roastie’s are in the oven and beers in the fridge 🐷🍺

Marry me? 💛💛💛

You giggled as you were about to shove your phone back in your pocket, another vibration forcing you to open your phone screen again.

Actually, that’s not even a question. You will marry me 🍑😈

“Oh honey, I’m homeeeeee!” He sang, and you heard his suitcase roll across the hard hallway floor before it stopped, assumingly being propped up at the bottom of the stairs. You’d missed his goofy ways, he annoyingly loud voice, his warm hugs.

He practically ran into the kitchen, hitting the breaks when he saw you heading towards his direction. “HI,” he screamed, actually running up to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You think he almost knocked you over, but you knew he wouldn’t allow that to happen. Holding you close, he made a super squishy noise as he bear hugged you, lifting you off the ground.

“Hi, baby” You giggled, pulling your head away, your chests still touching, and arms still tangled around each other.

His lips came crashing down, eager to feel you, touch you, taste you. He’d missed you more than he’d let on since he’d been away. He knew you struggled being alone for such a long period of time, so he took it upon himself to be the stronger one, insisting that it wasn’t long until he’d be home and you’re in his arms. He, of course, felt even possibly worse than you did, wanting nothing more to be home with you, to make sure you’re safe. He’d be lying if he said his brothers coming around to borrow his computer shit was all coincidental.

He tasted of a mixture of mento’s, the mint ones, and cherry pepsi max and it felt infectious. He hummed into your lips as your fingers found their way into his bouncy hair and his fingers curled into your waist, almost like he was checking you were actually real. “How long do we have until dinner’s ready?” He smirked, nudging your nose with his.

On cue, the timer on the oven starting a repetitive beep and he groaned, pouting his bottom lip out like a little kid when you walked away, swaying your hips with an extra bounce. He tried distracting you as you dished up your meal, which was the last thing he wanted to eat with you stood in front of him. “Tom, I need to talk to you first, remember.”

“Yeah, but we could also talk after?” His arms were wrapped around your waist as you spooned the vegetable on his overloaded plate; you were definitely a feeder. You swatted his arm away as he tried to steal a roast potato, which were of course covered in your secret seasoning. He managed to sneak one, groaning and whistling out loud when he realised it was far too hot for consumption. Raising your eyebrows, you scowled him as if to say I told you so.

To say he was more interested in tasting you than tasting his dinner, it wasn’t on his plate for longer than 7 minutes, approx, washing the whole thing down with the rest of his beer. He joked that he’d finished filming now, meaning there was room for more food without a strict diet for once.

“So, you wanted to talk?” He asked, leaning back in his chair as he patted at his stomach. Oh the irony.

“Uh, yeh…�� you shuffled in your seat, palms feeling sweaty and throat going a little dry, “I got you something.”

You started to bend down, to retrieve your gift from under the table but he slid back in his chair, causing a screech across the wooden floor, “OOOO, NO. I got YOU something!”

“No, Tom, can it…” he was already out the door heading to his suitcase before you could finish, leaving you to finish your sentence, “… wait.”

He came back through, holding a tiny bag, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead. “There was this little store and I knew you’d love it, because you like silver jewellery, so I got this made.” He shoved it in your hands, pulling the seat out and sitting next to you, instead of in his normal seat opposite. Your heart warmed at his thoughtful gift, although you had to chew at your lip as your nerves built. Inside was a little box, wrapped in a delicate white ribbon, with assumingly the company name’s initials embossed onto the front. It was like he was watching you open a Christmas present, spilling tails of how he thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s got you yet and if you don’t wear it, he will. Your lips parted as you opened the lid, the silver bangle shining up at you. Wrapped around were three separate charms; two T’s, and your own initial. “Because we’re like a little family, right? And I wanted to be with you, and you…” he laughed as he stroked Tessa who was sat under his feet, “even if I’m physically not.”

You weren’t soft, by any stretch of the imagination, but something about tom made you feel like jelly and melt like butter. “I bloody love you, you idiot.” You beamed, “it’s beautiful, thank you.” You couldn’t help but note how there may soon need to be another initial on there, panicking as you played his words over in your mind. We’re like a little family. What if what you’re about to tell him is going to ruin everything? What if he doesn’t want it? What if he doesn’t want you?

“So… my turn now,” he smiled, fluttering his eyelashes at you. You sighed heavily. Here goes nothing. Reaching under your chair, his eyebrows raised with an impressed glow at your organisation, much different to his presentation. He furrowed his eyebrows, hands reaching out for the small, brown gift bag, clinching his fingers back and forth like a little kid himself.

If he thought you opened your present slowly, boy, did he wanna be in your shoes right now. He fought with the white tissue paper you’d wrapped the small item in, muttering to himself as he eventually just ragged it out and threw it behind him, tessa immediately jumping to it and running around with it in her mouth like the proudest dog in the world.

The pattern of the item was familiar to him - how could it not be? The red and blue suit, with black lines decorating the majority, was exceptionally smaller compared to the one he wore on set. His face was scrunched up in confusion, “you know I can just get one that fits me right?”

“It’s not meant to fit you,” you rolled your eyes, reaching over and turning over the size tag that was still attached.

“First size/newborn” he whispered to himself, “newborn...”

He sat for about 10 seconds in silence, and it killed you, because it felt like 10 hours. His eyes finally snapped up to meat your worried overwatch, “NEWBORN?!”

Excitingly repeating the word, he pointed at the small baby grow “newborn?”

Then to his (in true Tom style) his penis, “newborn?”

And then finally to your lower stomach, “newborn?”

You nodded, bringing your lips together into a thin line as you let him digest the news. He grabbed the small sleepsuit, clutching it in his hand as he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around you, wanting to never let go. “I didn’t know if you wanted this yet, and I understand if you’re not ready, and we can talk, but I really think I...”

He pulled you back, a hand on each shoulder, resting his forehead against yours. “Y/N, this is the best fucking this to ever happen to me, to us. Thank you so much...” your eyes filled up, just as his did, only yours was with relief. You’d never considered getting rid of the baby, and hoped Tom didn’t want to either, but you did come to accept that he might not be ready.

“I think I should thank you, it’s you that looked really hot at the premiere. And it’s also you that didn’t pull out quick enough, evidently” You giggled, and he laughed too, using his thumbs to wipe the tears that were only just escaping your eyes.

“You looked hot too.” He stated, giving you a peck on the lips. “How long have you known?”

“About a week, I knew your dumb ass would fly home and ruin filming for something that’s the size of a blueberry.”

“Oh my god, we got a baby blueberryyyy” he grinned, his hand coming down to rest on your stomach.

“I mean, yeh, but at the minute all you’ll feel is just roast potatoes in there”

Tucked up in bed, you rested on his chest, his fingers drawing random patterns on your side as you leant into him. “Are we really.. gonna do this?” You stuttered out, feeling his lips press to the top of your head.

He adjusted so you shuffled gently onto your back, rolling himself on top of you, leaning on his forearms to be careful not to crush you, and your blueberry. “I wouldn’t ever force you to keep it... him... her? Baby berry?... But I know you’re just scared. And I am too but that’s ok.” He pressed loving kisses to your tingling lips between each set of words as your hands toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, “I mean, we were gonna have one eventually.”

“We were?” You smirked, interested to hear more.

“Mhmmm...” he hummed, moving his lips from your mouth and across your jaw, eventually ending up at the delicate skin on your neck as he spoke, “I think 3. 1 boy, 1 girl, 1 blueberry...” Your laugh filled the room at not only his tom-ness, but the way his breath tickled your neck as he spoke. “In a big house, and another tessa, maybe a couple more chickens because my kids are gonna love dippy egg and soldiers.”

His tongue lapped the areas his teeth were nibbling, swapping his needy, harsh touch for a more gentle approach. You groaned into him, back arching as he grazed all your sensitive spots, his hands running up your t shirt and cupping your breast. You moaned his name into him, with nothing but love filling the word.

Your nipples grew hard between his fingers as he toyed with you, barely noticing how he was moving around on top of you, reaching over to the bedside drawer and rummaging through.

“Tom, what on Earth are you doing?” You laughed.

“Getting a condom?

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Christmas / Winter Writing Promts

A/n: FOR THE ANON WHO ASKED FOR PROMPTS FOR THE ANIME!!

Note: can totally be used for other things.

A/n 2:So just like my last list this is the same thing.

Also most of these are from my old shitty list that I made years ago with some other ones added.

getting out/putting up decorations.

making christmas cards.

sitting/snuggling in front of the fireplace with hot cocoa/tea.

shopping for and/or wrapping gifts.

buying the christmas tre.e

decorating the christmas tree.

mistletoe.

making snowmen.

wearing ugly christmas sweaters

baking holiday treats.

Kissing in front of the fireplace.)

watching a classic holiday film

listening to/playing festive music or caroling.

ice skating.

snowball fight!

catching cold from being outside so much.

spending time with friends/family.

one lending the other their coat/scarf/hat to keep them warm.

throwing/attending a holiday party.

one surprising the other with an early gift.

spending the evening in a cafe.

making s’mores.

having drinks together on christmas eve.

sneaking around after the other has fallen asleep to put up their gift.

spending christmas morning together.

Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town: Santa’s at the mall and our muses have gotten in line to visit. Who said this was only a holiday for the little kids?!

The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting): Our muses have snuggled for some fireside Christmas dreaming.

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch!: My muse (or your muse) is about to ruin Christmas! Horror! One of the other muse watches on. Can they make the grinchy heart grow from being two sizes too small? (Specify in your request who is who or leave it up to me!)

Frosty the Snowman: Our muses are off to build a snowman!

Silver Bells: It’s holiday shopping time and our muses are off buying presents for everyone on their lists.

White Christmas: It’s started to snow for what feels like the first time in forever! But one of our muses has never seen snow before, so the other will just have to do something about that, won’t they? (Specify who is who or leave it up to me!)

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas: Our muses attempt to put together what is the perfect Christmas for themselves.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer: Santa’s in trouble and only our muses can save Christmas! Can we do it and deliver toys to all of the good girls and boys?

The Christmas Shoes: Our muses do something very selfless for someone in need on Christmas Eve.

Santa Baby: One of our muses has decided to dress as Mr./Mrs. Claus for a little more “adult” Christmas fun. Oh boy! (Specify who or leave it to me!)

The First Noel: Our muses are involved in a nativity scene at the church.

Silent Night: Not a creature was stirring… It’s Christmas Eve and everyone is in bed, except for our muses.

Oh Christmas Tree: Our muses go tree shopping! This one looks juuuust right!

Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer: One of our muses has had a little accident and will be spending Christmas in the hospital. (Specify who or leave it to me!)

Who Spiked the Eggnog: One of our muses is a little drunk from too much ‘nog and has become a little too jolly. (Specify who or leave it to me!)

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing: Our muses have joined a group of carolers for some holiday cheer!

Believe: One of our muses has gotten down about the holidays and needs some of that holiday magic restored in their life to bring them back- and to restore their faith in humanity. (Specify who or leave it up to me.)

Grown-Up Christmas List: My muse finds your muse’s Christmas list and just has to find that perfect gift.

Jingle Bells: Our muses take a sleigh ride!

Blue Christmas: How do our muses cope with being apart for Christmas?

Silver and Gold: Our muses are rummaging through ornaments for the Christmas tree and admiring some of the pieces that have been collected over the years.

I’ll Be Home for Christmas: One of our muses is home for the holidays, just in time! (Specify who or leave it up to me.)

Winter expectations vs. winter reality.

We need to buy you winter clothing.

Treatment for the flu/ a cold

Getting the person who doesn’t like Christmas into the right festive mood

Snowball fight

Hot tea and cozy sweaters

Giving subtle hints of what one would like to get for Christmas

Decoration wars (must include glitter)

Sleigh rides

Reading someone Christmas stories

Baking Christmas cookies

An unusual snowman

Finding a present for that person that is impossible to find a present for

The smell of Christmas

Holding out in a snowstorm together/Getting snowed in together

A Christmas letter.

Falling asleep by the fireplace

Dancing in the snow

The last day of work/class before the holidays

An odd Christmas tradition.

Picking out the right Christmas tree.

Obnoxious singing of Christmas songs.

The Traditional Christmas dinner.

Watching the snow alone and watching the snow together.

25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

December 1: Star

December 2: Hot Chocolate

December 3: Snow

December 4: Candy Canes

December 5: Christmas Tree

December 6: Angel

December 7: Pyjamas

December 8: Tinsel

December 9: Ice Skating

December 10: Frost

December 11: Eggnog

December 12: Cider

December 13: Peppermint

December 14: Gingerbread

December 15: Presents

December 16: Fireplace

December 17: Stocking

December 18: Cookies

December 19: Santa

December 20: Sled

December 21: Snow Man

December 22: Jingle Bells

December 23: Carols

December 24: Icicle

December 25: Christmas Movies

Handing their S/O a positive pregnancy test with a sprig of holly and a note reading ‘Merry Christmas’.

Getting trapped in a shopping mall together during after-hours in which they were christmas shopping too hard.

SWEATER PAWS AND CUDDLES.

Losing S/O at a christmas market and having to make an announcement over an intercom as to reunite them again (I’m thinking early 80’s era with fluorescent jackets and big old scarfs and brick phones that they left at home).

Fluffy, pretty, ‘princess’ character meets emo, grunge, moody character at a trashy christmas party and accidentally (drunkenly) makes them fall for them.

A competition for cringiestchristmas sweater at an office party, in which your otp comes wearing the same sweater.

Christmas Eve has your otp trapped in an elevator until late, both hungry and cold and now asleep together on the floor with bags of shopping discarded across from them.

Being hit in the face by an angry customer swinging their arms about and their S/O beating them up in the parking lot.

Christmas shenanigans under the tree, if you know what I mean.

Otp acting domestic whilst cooking their families christmas dinner and worrying about whether their parents are getting on with each other.

Planning a beautiful engagement for christmas day, only to lose the ring.

Mothering their S/O’s younger siblings and making sure they’re getting enough to eat.

Falling asleep in front of the fire whilst their S/O is playing them ‘dance of the sugar plum fairy’ on piano. They pull a blanket over them and curl up beside them.

Spilling hot chocolate/coffee/a hot-fucking-beverage on the other and insisting on paying for a new drink and new clothes for them, unaware that they’re rich and very capable of buying themselves another coffee. Besides, they don’t know that this jacket is Louis Vuitton and cost more than the knock-off Gucci belt that had caught their eye in the first place (probably looking a little lower than the belt, but we digress).

First christmas with their S/O and panicking to their best friend/sibling about what to get them. Somehow, a plushie didn’t seem exactly suitable when they knew the other had bought them an engagement ring.

Flying overseas for christmas, but having their baggage lost/delayed, meant they had to walk around their hotel room naked for a few days. That was their excuse anyway.

Burning christmas dinner and trying to order take-out (congratulations, you plebs).

Being gifted tickets to see a family member overseas, but having to leave their S/O at home for christmas, not expecting them to turn up on their doorstep on christmas morning with a bouquet of roses.

Finding their S/O drinking eggnog from the carton and crying at ‘Love Actually’ on their return from working all day. Pulling the other into their lap and kissing their forehead until they stop crying and fall asleep.

SLIPPING ON ICE, SPENDING CHRISTMAS IN HOSPITAL AND GUESS WHO THEIR DOCTOR IS??? *cue us pterodactyl screeching and them ensuing sexy shenanigans***

Decorating the christmas tree together and blowing the fuse for the electrics. Waiting in candle-light for the electricians to arrive and- let me just say- nothing stays fluffy in candle-light.

Bringing each others home country traditions to the dinner table and experiencing a weird mix of food.

Secretly learning their S/O’s mother-tongue to surprise them and be able to talk to their family at christmas.

Buying animal-proof fairy lights, confusing their S/O, but it all makes sense when there’s an ENTIRE puppy in their living room on christmas day.

Falling asleep in the passenger seat whilst their S/O drives them to a family members house for christmas, but not wanting to wake them for further directions because they look so p e a c e f u l.

Cuddling in the bathtub because it’s so cold outside and their S/O got caught in the snow on the way home from work.

Kissing under the mistletoe is underrated, go big or go home.

Sleeping in until midday because they just want to be in each other’s arms and it is so warm with them right here beside them.

Making out under the christmas tree because the lights reflecting in their S/O’s eyes just looked too ethereal for them not to kiss them until they lost their breath.

Eating dinner together and sharing kisses over the dining table. This isn’t always fun when their S/O has a hate for brussel sprouts.

Falling asleep on their significant other’s chest whilst they’re wrapping christmas presents, meaning that some aren’t wrapped the next morning because the sellotape had RUN OUT.

Failing to get the right meat and their S/O sending them back multiple times until they end up going together and realising that they weren’t even going to the right store.

Slow kisses.

Text messages asking for their S/O to put the kettle on for them as they were almost home.

Sitting on the doorstep in the cold, waiting for their S/O to come home from working on christmas day (emergency services?) and hugging them for so long whilst whispering ‘merry christmas’ into their neck and kissing any inch of skin they can reach.

Slow dancing to Frank Sinatra’s christmas songs in the kitchen and forgetting to check the potatoes in the oven.

Ice skating and them BOTH BEING REALLY GOOD ACTUALLY.

ACCIDENTALLY WEARING MATCHING NAUGHTY/NICE JUMPERS IN PUBLIC AND THEN BUMPING INTO EACH OTHER.

Avoiding the mistletoe at all costs, however, everyone is trying their best to get the otp there.

Neighbour au in which one gets drunk on mulled wine and ends up knocking at the other’s door, drunkenly trying to seduce the other and- instead- passing out in their living room.

MAKING OUT IN THE CLOAKROOM OF SOME POSH CHRISTMAS PARTY.

Just lots of making out in general. Jesus wanted us to repopulate which means fuc-

Crawling into their roommate’s (S/O’s) bed because it is too cold in their own and they want cuddles.

For goodness gracious IT’S 3 AM PLEASE STOP CAROLING au

-You threw a snowball and it hit me/my window and I was going to be mad but you’re really cute. Do you want to come in for hot chocolate? au

-This is the fourth time you’ve come to ask for sugar this week. How many cookies are you making? au

-we’re at an ugly Christmas sweater party and that thing is horrendous where did you even find that au

-You don’t realize I can see over the fence to watch you make snow angels like you’re five years old au

-you would literally make the best neighborhood Santa au

-are you the one putting mistletoe absolutely everywhere in this apartment building, or do you just happen to be in the right place at the right time every single time I walk under it au

-I just heard a ten pound turkey hit the ground and also very strong words. Do you need help? au

-I work at the Christmas tree lot and you just had to pick the heaviest tree there didn’t you au

-You were putting up Christmas lights and you just fell off the roof omg do you need me to drive you to the hospital au

-I invited you to Christmas dinner as my boyfriend/girlfriend so that my family would stop pestering me about being single, but we can keep this up until New Year’s, right? au

I’m going to eat this whole pie by myself and you’re not going to say anything about it au.

1. Mistletoe kiss

2. Pretend boyfriend/girlfriend for family Christmas party

3. You made me a Christmas playlist but it’s just Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is you”. I can’t tell if you’re hitting on me or if it’s a joke

4. My car got stuck in snow you saved me

5. Last Christmas I gave you my heart and you asked me to marry you

6. I got you for Secret Santa, but I thought it was suppose to be a gag gift, and now I wont fess up because I’m embarrassed

7. We’re both stuck at the airport for Christmas eve

8. Snowman competition, the judges are a bunch of five year old kids

9. I work at a toy store and you keep coming in but never buy anything

10. Your dad is Santa, he’s missing, and I’m helping you save Christmas

11. I’m a barista and you keep making weird faces when you drink the “Christmas cheer in a cup” coffee I make, why do you keep ordering it?

12. We’re neighbors and I just got locked out of my apartment, I was baking cookies that will burn if I don’t get in there quick

13. You made me an ugly Christmas sweater

14. I met you on Christmas but haven’t seen you since, until today on Christmas day, are you an angel? Wait, you actually are?

15. We’re stuck in different cities, so we wont be together for Christmas. We end up talking on the phone for hours, to the annoyance of our families.

16. I was dressed up as an elf, because of my job. You’re drunk and think I actually know Santa

17. You hate Christmas because you’ve never had a good one. So I go all out to make this the best Christmas for you

18. I was cold, so you gave me your jacket but now you’re cold too. So I suggest we hug instead

19. I’ve never seen snow in person before, until now, what is this white stuff falling from the sky? Why are you laughing at me?

20. We got into an argument because of something stupid, but I slipped on ice on the stairs. I called you to help me, and our fight was forgotten when you got all worried

21. I was putting up Christmas lights, and I literally fell into your arms

22. There’s one Christmas cookie left, so I challenge you, winner takes the cookie

23. You keep playing Christmas music, and it’s driving me nuts, please play something else.

1. “You’re freezing. Come here.”

2. “That’s the eggnog talking. I’m cutting you off.”

3. “I didn’t wrap it, so you have to close your eyes.”

4. “Don’t be such a Scrooge.”

5. “That’s mistletoe we’re standing under.”

6. “It’s snowing.”

7. “Open it.”

8. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

9. “I’m just happy you’re here.”

10. “Tis the season for sharing feelings, I guess.”

11. “Will it be too cliche to say I love you?”

12. “Nice sweater.”

13. “I didn’t know what to get you.”

14. “My fingers are numb.”

15. “Look at that. It’s beautiful.”

16. “How many candy canes have you eaten?”

17. “Careful. Santa’s watching.”

18. “What would you like for Christmas?”

19. “I don’t want to just see you once a year.”

20. “That’s my scarf.”

21. “I won’t let you fall.”

22. “How much sugar have you had?”

23. “Chocolate chip is the only cookie that matters.”

24. “Is this the part where we kiss?”

25. “If there’s magic, it’s only because of you.”

[hmhteen]

HMH Teen Teasers: GRIM LOVELIES by Megan Shepherd!

We are so excited for GRIM LOVELIES by New York Times bestselling author Megan Shepherd that we wanted to share a new excerpt with you! 

Meet Anouk, a girl enchanted into a human from an animal, and her best friend and fellow Beastie, Beau. What’s about to happen between them will change their lives—and the lives of all magical beings—forever. 

***

“Dance with me,” he said.

She gave him an impatient look, holding up the dripping dish gloves. “I’m a mess.”

“You always are.” He wrapped one of his hands around her gloved one. “Come on, I know that look. You’ll worry all night over this. You deserve a break.”

He held up their hands as though ready to dance. Soapy water ran down his arm, soaking his shirt cuff, but he didn’t seem to mind. The tempo of the violin music picked up; Viggo must have been in a good mood. Laughter came from the ballroom.

Anouk rested one hand on his shoulder. “Go on, then. Show me how.”

He grinned. “Step back. Like this. There. Now forward.”

She tried to follow his movements, leaving damp footprints on the kitchen tiles. He led her in a clumsy circle around the big oak table, counting, “One-two-three-four, one-two-three-four.” The floor was slick from the water dripping from her dish gloves. Soap bubbles popped in the sink.

“How did you learn how to dance?” she asked.

He spun her in a circle by the oven. “I don’t. Know how to dance, I mean. I’m making it up as I go along. Now forward. To your left. Step back.” He swept her around the kitchen, past the dirty dishes and the pantry filled with jams and pickled meats. “Twirl. Bow. Now step to the right.”

“Beau, you’re ridiculous!” She laughed.

He pulled her close, twirling her by the icebox. His shirt was wet to the elbows now. The both of them were a mess, and she felt that same giddiness that she had on the roof, tipsy just from being in his arms, and —

He stepped on her toes.

“Oh!” She grimaced as she pulled her hands from his and clutched at her foot.

“Merde. Sorry about that. Let’s see the damage.” He lifted her by the waist, set her down on the kitchen table, and knelt to inspect her foot. Her left big toe was red and bore the imprint of his shoe tread, but it wasn’t bleeding. He ran his thumb over it gently. “No permanent harm, I think.” He paused. “I’d hate for you to have lost another one.”

He took her right foot in his other hand and, holding both her feet, ran his thumbs gently over the scars where her little toes had been. It had been six months. Nearly healed.

“One, two, three, four,” he said quietly, counting the remaining toes on each foot.

He didn’t let go of her feet. His hair was disheveled from dancing and from the steam from the oven. She touched her own. It had fallen out of the ribbon.

“Anouk.” Beau’s hands tightened over her feet, kneading slightly. She tugged her feet out of his grasp, embarrassed by the scars and  the missing toes and the questions Beau always raised about them.

“Don’t start, Beau.”

She climbed off the table.

“Take these off,” he said suddenly, tugging at the dish gloves. “I want to hold your hand. Really dance.”

“But we don’t know how.” “It doesn’t matter.”

She pulled off the dish gloves — at least he’d dropped the subject of her toes. “And the apron,” he said, digging his fingers into the fab- ric at her waist. “I hate them, all these stupid things she makes you wear. Dressing you up like a doll.” His voice had grown low.

“Beau, are you all right?”

“Take it off,” he said, pulling at the ribbons behind her neck. “You aren’t some plaything. It isn’t okay, her ordering you around. Prince Rennar was right. You shouldn’t be sweeping her floors.”

“But it’s my job.”

“You get paid for a job. A job with no pay is called slavery.” He tugged at the apron.

“Beau, what’s gotten into you? The Mada is . . . she’s like our . . .” “She’s not our mother,” he said flatly.

The music from the ballroom stopped abruptly. For a moment the house was silent. No laughter, no clinking glasses, only the slowly bursting soap bubbles in the sink.

“Anouk!” Mada Vittora suddenly called. “More wine!”

Anouk gave Beau a hard look as she pushed his hands off her shoulders, then retied the bow of her apron. She smoothed her hands over it, pulled back her hair, and carried the wine decanter to the ballroom. They had cleared the table, throwing napkins on the floor and haphazardly stacking the dirty dishes, and now they leaned over a map of the city that was unrolled on the table. Prince Rennar held a dagger over the map, speaking in a low whisper as he made small, pre- cise cuts. Anouk kept her eyes averted, but she glimpsed silver powder on his lips. What magic were they doing now?

As she poured the wine, she tried not to make it obvious she was listening. Rennar was speaking the language of magic: the Selentium Vox, the Silent Tongue. Members of the Haute spent lifetimes mas- tering the complicated nuances of every word. Mada Vittora spoke it better than most. The townhouse library was filled with rare hand- written volumes of Selentium Vox grammar and vocabulary, books that Anouk borrowed and pored over at night so that she would be ready to help her mistress if the time ever came. And it had, once. There had been an evening over the summer when Mada Vittora had guzzled too many limoncello tonics and couldn’t remember the words to a love spell she’d meant to cast on some famous Pretty movie star. Anouk had snuck into the library and sorted through the volumes using the bits and pieces of Selentium Vox she’d taught herself until she’d found the right book. She left it out on the bistro table in the courtyard, open to the correct spell; Mada Vittora discovered it and, in her tipsy state, assumed she’d found the spell herself.

When Anouk went back to the kitchen, Beau was gone. Probably sulking in his room on the far side of the courtyard. Was it her fault he and Mada Vittora hadn’t ever gotten along? The Mada had given them life. Human life. Words to speak their thoughts, hands to do work, clothes to dress themselves, and all the other gifts that came with being human, like music and laughter and fairy tales, things Anouk clung to like precious jewels.

Before Mada Vittora — well, that was only darkness. It frightened Anouk to think about those days. She knew what she had been: ani- mal. She didn’t know what type — none of them knew — but what did it matter? Animal was animal. Mangy and hungry. Alone and vulnerable. She knew she’d been this, but she didn’t remember. All she had was a hazy feeling of dread, like trying to rush home before a winter storm strikes, and that’s how she’d given her past a name: Dark thing. Cold place. It made her first memory all the sweeter: Roses and thyme. Waking on the attic floor with all the rest of them look- ing down at her. Beau. Cricket. Hunter Black. Luc, the eldest, who looked twenty but had been human for only five years. He’d wrapped a blanket around her and stroked her hair and said, It will all be well, you’re safe now, it’s scary now but you’ ll learn. A puddle of blood had stained the floor beneath her. Viggo’s, though she hadn’t known it at the time.

And the Mada. She had been there too, of course, perfumed by the trick’s marjoram and wormwood and fox glove, the words of the whisper still on her lips. When her eyes had found Anouk’s, she had tilted her head and smiled.

This one’s sweet, isn’t she?

Anouk was lost in the memory, elbow-deep in cleaning the dishes, when she heard the click-click of heels on the kitchen floor. Mada Vittora came tottering in, drunk, her cheeks flushed unbecomingly.

Anouk pulled off her gloves. “Is dinner over? Shall I fetch the Royals’ coats?”

Mada Vittora waved vaguely. The top button of her blouse had come loose and was dangling. “Viggo’s seeing them out. He’s going to Castle Ides with them to handle the final paperwork.”

An image flashed in Anouk’s head of Prince Rennar and she felt a stab of regret that she wouldn’t see him again. Why did she care? Honestly, she should be relieved that he and the other Royals were gone. But there had been something about the way he had looked at her so keenly, as though he knew something that she didn’t.

“It was a good party, I hope?” Anouk asked.

Mada Vittora took a step and slipped on the soapy water. She cursed and kicked off her heels. Her bare toes were surprisingly pale, like Anouk’s. Except, of course, that she had all ten.

“Better than we dreamed.” Her eyes glistened with the alcohol. “Big things are going to happen. Just wait and see.”

“Oh . . . good.” Anouk had been referring to the food.

Mada Vittora saw the unraveling button and frowned. “Attash betit . . . betit . . . betit . . .” She couldn’t recall the last word of the repair trick.

Anouk feigned a cough. “Truk.”  

Mada Vittora’s watery eyes snapped to her. A momentary suspi- cion wavered in her look, but it was soon drowned out by a tipsy hic- cup, and she blinked and flicked at the little button. “Ah, I remember now. Attash betit truk.”

The button obediently stitched itself back to the blouse.

A flush of pride warmed Anouk’s cheeks. To her surprise, the witch suddenly pressed a kiss against Anouk’s forehead. “My sweet girl. My darling girl. Ma galuk spirn.” She wobbled away, leaving the heels.

My clever girl. That was what she’d said in the Silent Tongue. Did she know about Anouk’s late-night reading? Did she approve?

Anouk brushed her fingers against her forehead, the kiss still damp. Her heart was lighter as she finished washing the dishes, dried them, and put them away. She soaked the big roasting pan in the sink to scour first thing in the morning. She cleared the rest of the dishes from the empty ballroom and blew out the candles. She swept the floor and closed the curtains over the tall windows. The moon was high outside. It had to be close to midnight.

A thump sounded from upstairs.

She dropped the broom, which clattered to the floor, and picked it back up in a hurry.

She listened.

No footsteps. No voices calling for her to come clean up a broken vase or fallen books. But something about the silence ate at her.

“Mada?” she called up the stairs. “Is everything all right?” No answer.

“Viggo?”

But no, he had left with the Royals, and he would have taken Hunter Black with him. They wouldn’t be back until the morning. She went to the window and pushed aside the drapes. The black Rolls- Royce was parked out front, as was Hunter Black’s gunmetal-gray motorcycle. They must have gone to Castle Ides in the Royals’ car.

Now the silence gnashed at her with big, jagged teeth. With a start, she realized the clock above the drawing-room fireplace had stopped. She tapped its face. Nothing. She’d have to reset it.

Her eyes trailed up to the portrait of the Shadow Royals, pulled by some unavoidable force, and she shivered. Were they watching even now? She went to the salon to check the time on the grandfather clock so she could reset the mantel one, but it had stopped too. A chill started at the base of her spine. She checked the hall clock, and the one in the kitchen, and the one on the stairs landing.

Every clock in the house had stopped at exactly midnight.

The chill grew. What was this dark magic? Not like any trick or whisper she had ever seen. The coldness spread up her back as she made her way up the stairs. She realized distractedly that she still clutched the broom in one hand.

“Mada?”

Empty bedrooms, empty halls. She double-checked Viggo’s room and the guest room Hunter Black used while he was in town to make sure they’d really left. All empty. She clutched the broom like a weapon, ready to strike. It wasn’t until the sixth floor, Mada Vit- tora’s grand bedroom, that she heard the scramble of someone’s jagged breath.

“Hello?”

She brandished the broom handle but then let her arms fall in surprise. “Beau?”

He was crouched on the Persian rug at the foot of the bed. The closet door was open. The dressing table’s chair was overturned. Bright red wine had spilled and was soaking into the carpet, and Anouk tsked reflexively. The hardest stains to get out.

She set the broom aside uncertainly. “What are you doing in here? Where’s Mada Vittora?”

His hair was messy. His chest rose and fell quickly. He met her eyes with a gaze like a caught animal’s, a look she’d never seen on his face before, not even the time that Hunter Black had cornered him in the garage and threatened to cut out his tongue if he ever called Viggo a salaud again.

“Anouk. Oh God.”

The stain wasn’t red wine, she realized. Her mouth went very dry.

Blood.

But whose blood?

Then she saw the knife in Beau’s hand.

***

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[helish-archive]

[   M U S E   A S   A   D E I T Y   ]

Rules: Think carefully about your character and their development through their journey (canon or oc) within their story. Fill out the chart and tag whoever you want! Multi-muses, feel free to pick any of your characters - just a few, or all of them. Please repost, so the dash isn’t clogged with reblogs.

Tagged by: @mckaytriarchy thank you so much! this is such a cool one! going to ref the one you did, for keep-sake as to where this came from

Tagging: Y O U!!!! seriously! you see it - you do it! it’s too cool not to do it. I’m not tagging everyone bc I wish I could tag all of my followers but there are too many!!!! (also a lot of chars are gods/goddesses... but even for you this can be cool??)

[Helena, Hel, En]

God/dess of: Creativity, practical knowledge, adventure and journey. Be it mental or physical, En oversees the journey of self-growth and challenge, literal and metaphorical. Also she is a goddess (or a god, depends on what teaching you follow) of confidence, independence and self-love. On few occasions she is referred to as the deity associated with bad puns.

Patron god/dess of (or Protector of): If you set on a trying path in order to reach a certain goal/gain knowledge, Hel is your patron saint. If you’re, say, a creative adventurous bard, you most certainly win here. Travellers, adventurers, scoundrels, runaway brides, wandering artists... Anyone who got lost in order to find inner self and learn to love themselves.

Associated with: Aesthetic of travelling, especially that of a safe, successful return; determination, self-growth, personal achievement; trials and challenges, overcoming them, endurance; clever beneficial bargains and trade; taverns and cooking; bad puns.

Sacred plants: All sorts of succulents, including cacti... yes, Hel is the god of cacti.

Sacred stones/gems:  Blue lace agate, bloodstone, alexandrite, diamond, jasper, certain amethysts.

Sacred animals: Butterflies, spiders, turtles, eagles, panthers.

Colours: Peach pink, fuchsia, gold; black, silver, Bermuda turquoise.

Food: Any homemade food prepared out of quality ingredients with care and love.

Scents: Various exotic fruit, coconuts, fire and food at the camp site, especially meat roasted on open fire, the way the air smells before and after the rain, grass, mountain air, smell of the forest.

Accepted offerings/ways to honour: Challenge yourself, don’t be satisfied with where you are now, grow, strive, set goals and achieve them - she will watch you and cheer on; she doesn’t require a specific offering. However if you want to communicate, set an altar with homemade food and some alcohol. Tell her stories of your adventures out loud, she’d love that. You can tell her all the new things you’ve learned that day too. You can bring her souvenirs from your travels. Also tell as many puns as possible. Be wary, though, the important idea behind Helena is that of independence. She’d rather you win unaided by anyone, so her help is that of a word of advice and confidence boost, but that’s all, nothing direct, she won’t solve your problems for you. If you ask for that, or for someone else to solve your problems, she will turn on you and triple your challenges. Also ask only for yourself, not for someone else, selfishness is rewarded.

Consort of: En is the spouse to the god/ess of knowledge, science, experiment, wisdom, wit and freedom.

Rival of: Of many many gods. En is known to challenge everyone from time to time, even her spouse, since she doesn’t tolerate stagnation and boredom. Her main mortal enemy/rival though is her brother, the god of black magic, the undead, and patron of the necromancers.

Epitaphs: The Moon and Stars, The Lonesome Wanderer, The Seeker, The Teller of Bad Puns, The Loner Goddess.

BONUS:

Depiction: Most of time she is depicted as a golden spider resting on the surface of the pink-shaded moon. Several portrayals include a black panther chasing a butterfly or a silver eagle flying over the sea. When in human form, she is depicted as a woman more often than a man, perhaps as a token to a woman’s inquisitive nature, while her husband is often shown as a man, but there are cases/teachings nonetheless where the gender roles are reversed and ‘Hel’ or ‘En’ is the god spouse to the goddess of knowledge. Some say they were both female. The thing is, it is more of her spouse being depicted in his temples with her. In most of Hel’s shrines and temples she is alone, save for the few cases of her shown with her sister-goddess Fiona, the red-haired patron of cunning, wit, thieves and assassins; rather, Fiona is drawn as a playful fox, who sneaks into her sister’s shrine through the open window.

People who typically invoke Hel/En: Anyone who’s going through trials; adventurers, travellers, those who need strength, confidence and creativity to succeed and endure. Those who seek to better themselves, learn and gain knowledge. Merchants who want a better bargain. Artists who desire to make something special and creative, including cooks who want to invent an unusual dish. Those who are simply bored out of their mind and need some challenge in their lives.

Deities Hel/En is allied with: Throughout the stories she allies herself with many gods, and then rivals them anyway. Mostly she is known with the god of knowledge, science and wisdom - her spouse. Fiona the Stealthy, her cunning sister, goddess of thieves and assassins. Nicholas the Ominous, the god of starless, moonless night, dark magic and necromancy; an arrogant undead deity who steals other people’s bodies and substitutes the rotting parts of his own flesh with the stolen ones. The legend has it that he learned the art of thievery from his sister Fiona and the art of self-love from Helena, then perverted them and used them to drown in his own stagnation. Unable to accept the idea of his mortality ( yes these deities are not immortal, just long-lived, with immortal souls ) he tried to consume his sisters’s spirits, steal their bodies and achievements with the help of black magic. Many believe that he is shown to be the other side of the coin for his god-siblings, depicting what happens to one who has no control over their wishes, emotions, and desires. En’s children are gods of humour and games, aesthetic beauty and entertainment.