#godmother

[elsewhereuniversity]

Greetings book guardian!

I am looking for help on how to be a good god father. An old friend of mine has had a child recently and has named me such to them. Only it's been a decade and my old friend seems to have forgotten that I am from the Autumn Court.

I would like to be as those fairy godmothers in children's tales I've been told of, but I do not quite understand the duties they have towards their god children.

Lastly, is there some suggestion you have that might make me more appealing towards a baby girl? I do not wish to frighten her as I did her father when we first met. I was told shadows and skulls take a while to get used to, and I wish to make a good first impression upon her.

~The Elder of Shadows

On your side of things, of course, granting the child a boon is traditional. Or maybe cursing her instead if you have a falling out with the parents beforehand. On ours it's generally more in the line of assuming the role of guardian should anything happen to the parents. A mix of the two probably wouldn't go wrong.

For what it's worth I think that it's probably easier to get the child used to the shadows and skulls young - familiarize them before she comprehends what she's looking at. But you could glamour if you're worried, or perhaps hang baby mobile ornaments from those antlers of yours.

#godmother

[lord-tekron]

IT’S SPOOK TIME, FUCKOS!

#Halloween #spooks #scary #scary godmother #godmother #dance #spook #spooky #skeleton #werewolf #witch #vampire #Bug-a-boo #Harry #skully pettibone

[ladybekool]

I've always wondered why Fleabag's godmother was so cruel against her compared to Claire and I think I finally know why. Here's my two cents but I think it's because Fleabag look so much like her mother. It has been hinted multiple time thorough the serie. Fleabag is loud, bold, unapologetic and most importantly FUN. I think Godmother really misses her, they must have been good friends since she's the Godmother of her childs. She did a sculpture inspired by her. I cannot believe she's not coping in her own way at the lost of her best friend. But Godmother feels obviously threatened by the spirit of her even after her passing. She changes the house, she can't cope when people try to remember her and is obviously upset and jealous. As she was her former student she must feel very insecure that despite her passing, the mother's presence is still so strong. That's why Fleabag is a threat to her. When she's here, her lover (Fleabag's dad) despite the awkwardness, wants to be close to her. They joke, they need eachother. And it's even more clear at the wedding while her dad can't let go of her to marry Godmother. Why he is grabbing her hand so tightly. He's holding onto his old love. But he has to let her go to move on. And then it's painfully beautiful than in Fleabag's ending - after she and the Priest say their last good bye despite all their love - Fleabag leaves with her Mother's status. As if to have a token for all this love. Her father's love for her mom, Godmother's love and admiration for her and her love for the priest. Boo's gone, Claire's probably gone ... she have no one else to give it to.

"I just don't know what to do with all the love I have for her."

#fleabag #fleabagserie #fleabag s2 #fleabag season 2 #primefleabag #phoebe waller bridge #godmother #Fleabag's mother #Fleabag's ending theory

[zumainthyfuture]

Kickin off Black History Month with the Godmother of Rock & Roll, Sister Rosetta Tharpe!

Born Rosetta Nubin, she gained popularity in the 1930s and 1940s with her gospel recordings, mixing spiritual lyrics and electric guitar.

With her mother's encouragement, Tharpe began playing guitar at age four and by age six was performing in a traveling evangelical troupe.

Throughout her teenage years she performed regularly and was considered a musical prodigy.

Tharpe used a white Les Paul Custom like this one for her pioneering work in the 1960s. In 1961, Gibson redesigned the Les Paul model with a thinner, lighter body.

She did 50 years of performing and touring finally caught up with Tharpe when, in 1970, she suffered a stroke that put an end to her touring life.

March 20, 1915 - October 9, 1973

#Queued #Rosetta Tharpe #Rosetta Nubin #Godmother #Rock & Roll #Guitar #Les Paul #Gibson #Musical Prodigy #March 20 1915 #October 9 1973 #Black History Month #Black History #Black Woman

[womansfilm]

#olivia colman #fleabag #godmother #m

[rosierslove]

Again a headcanon

Euphemia Potter and Minerva McGonagall were best friends at Hogwarts.

After Hogwarts the two were still best friends.

It was only obvious, that Minnie would be James godmother.

#Minnie loves her boys #marauders #james potter #euphemia potter #the marauders #marauders era #minerva mcgonagall #gryffindor #godmother

[cissyenthusiast010155]

I’ve Got You ~Plutonic!Godmother!Sylvia Chamberlain xFem Goddaughter!Reader

Summary— Sylvia is Reader’s Godmother who practically raised Reader. Some days the pressure of the high society of New York gets to Sylvia. On those days, Reader is there for Sylvia, guiding her arm by arm to make it through the day.

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: little angst, fluff, implied depression, implied anxiety, implied depressive history, implied anxiety history, implied abandonment, comforting, physical comfort, happy ending, etc.

Enjoy (;

Sometimes it was just too much for her. High society New York was ruthless. They ostracized her. Sylvia was usually good at putting on a brave face and putting her first foot forward. She was usually good at brushing off the looks and snide comments. She had gotten used to the prejudice, the traditional views.

But sometimes it just became too much. Sometimes she let those pesky thoughts get the best of her. Some days, Sylvia stayed inside her home, locked away from the world. She would stay in bed until the late afternoon, rising only to eat a little, before retreating back to bed. She’d have those comments in her head on loop, haunting her. Her past never seemed to relent it seemed. And that was hard to reconcile on some days.

Those were the days that concerned you. Whenever you could sense that she was about to break, you were quick to be by the woman’s side. She was your Godmother after all. And as your family had never really been one to raise you, Sylvia had. She hadn’t needed to. She simply had. You’d happily take care of the woman on those difficult days, considering all she’d done for you.

On those days, the days where Sylvia fought every single fiber of life, you were right by her side. You would convince her to get up, get dressed, and get some breakfast. You’d try to make her laugh throughout your morning meal as much as you could. You could see her thoughts spiraling across the table. Her eyes were blank, dull from all the overwhelmingness going on behind them.

And then you would suggest an activity outside of her house walls. If she was up for it, you would accompany Sylvia to something such as an art exhibit or to a park. Fresh air always helped. You’d make sure to steer clear of any known social gatherings, not wanting her to have to deal with the cliquey society of New York’s finest, not on days like this.

If she wouldn’t hear it, you’d at least insist that you two tour her own personal art exhibit at the minimum, to at least get her moving around. You’d spend hours silent on those types of days, but you were used to it. You’d talk to her, talk about her art, talk about your life, talk about her, talk about anything and everything to keep her distracted and safe with your arm linked into hers.

Slowly but surely, you’d start to coax the woman back to her vivid disposition. By the end of the day, you’d insist they go out to dinner, and by then, Sylvia would usually agree. (On some really bad days, you’d take her straight to bed, it just all being too much and unrelenting. And you made sure to let her know that that was okay too, that you would never fault her for wanting to start fresh the next day). If she’d let you wine and dine her, you could usually crack a couple of small smiles from her.

By the end of your shared night, you’d take the woman home, tucking her in and saying good night.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I am ever so lucky to have your company, that you tolerate me…” Sylvia would whisper, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You’d blush.

“Anytime. And nonsense, I don’t tolerate you— I love you.” You’d whisper back.

This would make Sylvia blush.

“I love you too” She’d murmur before falling into slumber.

~~~

Sylvia Chamberlain Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

#Sylvia chamberlain x reader #Sylvia chamberlain angst #Sylvia chamberlain fluff #Sylvia chamberlain #jeanne tripplehorn #gilded age #the gilded age x reader #gilded age x reader #the gilded age season 2 #the gilded age fic #the gilded age fanfiction #gilded age fic #gilded age fanfiction #the gilded age #gilded age season 2 #the gilded age season 1 #the gilded age spoilers #godmother #goddaughter #plutonic #plutonic!reader #Alex Blake

[wish-i-was-milena]

y'all ever think about that one scene in fleabag S2 where godmother is making that painting of fleabag and claire as a gift to their father for the wedding and she asks fleabag to turn around and sit facing the wall?

well I just realised that maybe it's because fleabag looks and talks and expresses herself so much like her mother... like remember that one scene from the mother's funeral where fleabag's father talks about her and says that he didn't like the way she (their mother) was? that.

Also, remember how in S1, after fleabag ends up on his doorstep at 3 in the morning, drunk and having an existential crisis, and all her dad says is 'well you get that from your mother...' that too.

So my theory is that the godmother despises that so she just removes her face from the painting because, I'm guessing she thinks it'll remind the father of their mother (for instance, that one scene where fleabag returns godmother's sculpture and godmother tells her that she always wondered why fleabag stole that one piece which was based on her mother)

whereas, Claire looks just like her father and shares aspects with his personality (like the boring and the stressy environment she thrives in) so she keeps her face in the painting.

just some food for thought huh

#fleabag #shitposting #i just thought of this #i may be late to this realisation #but still #its fkin layered if you think about it #godmother #claire #fleabag season 2 #fleabag show #fypシ #tumblr fyp #fleabag is my roman empire #my roman empire

[soovermyself]

The absolute cutest, most adorable 🥹❤️ Happy second birthday sweet August!

#sophia bush #nia linder batts #patrick linder #august linder #godmother #happy birthday #love

[scottheim]

The wonderful, eccentric, joyful, genius Agnès Varda (30 May 1928 - 20 March 2019). Some of her films recently made the 2022 “Sight and Sound” polls of both critics and directors, which isn’t surprising. I’m currently revisiting all the films I can find. So much joy and curiosity and radiance. I wish I’d known her.  I wish she still had more art and secrets to show the world.

#godmother #french new wave #agnes varda #documentary #gleaners and i #cleo from 5 to 7 #female directors #vagabond #faces places #beaches of agnes

[emmynominees]

olivia colman as godmother in season two of fleabag

primetime emmy award nominee for outstanding supporting actress in a comedy series

#olivia colman #godmother #fleabag #supporting actress in a comedy series #2019

[nostalgiahime]

The Princess and the Goblin Movie Storybook (1993) [✩]  

#the princess and the goblin #princess irene #princess irene and curdie #ring #godmother #grandmother #magic #story books #story book #book #animation #movie #an #mov #mp #90s #1993 #nostalgia #nostalgiacore

[jienayun]

Much of the vitality in a friendship lies in the honouring of differences, not simply in the enjoyment of similarities.

#Godmother #hochiminhcity #Vietnam

[foodandfolklore]

Godmother Death

Since it's Almost the 31st of October, I've been poking around for old Fables and fairytales that fit the season. Sure there's Halloween and spooky season which allows many people to dress up and embrace the fun. And I love that! But some spiritual and Cultural paths believe this time of the year is when the veil of the living and the dead thins, allowing for those who have passed to come and pay us a visit. Personally, I kinda like the idea of that.

So I found a Slavic folk tale written by A.H Wratislaw in 1889. It is about death taking on a Godchild. There are many things I find interesting in this story. The first and most obvious thing being that Death is not something to fear. Death is a kind and fairly pretty Woman. It goes against a lot of how death has been built up in Christian stories. Which brings me to interesting point number 2, Death and Religion seem to be separate. Which I like. Yes death seems to be Religious, but they don't claim to be part of a higher power or chain of command. They haven't been re-written to be an angel. Just....Death. And finally the third thing I found interesting was the Fact Death was not only a Woman, but a Woman with knowledge about medicine and healing. During this time period in England (Where the author is from) and many other parts of the world, Women were fighting to be allowed to be Doctors. But there was massive push back on this as anyone who has skimmed women's rights history can imagine. So I wonder if the author had an opinion about this, and tried to use old folk tales to communicate a point. Perhaps he felt women were capable of being just as good of doctors as men?

This is a slightly more awkward read. So I wanted to give a few key notes on word meanings to help people like me who were thrown off. Gossip: It means Good friend or buddy Sexton: A church care taker Taper: Candle. Like the tall, skinny kinds.

There was a man, very poor in this world’s goods, whose wife presented him with a baby boy. No one was willing to stand sponsor, because he was so very poor. The father said to himself: ‘Dear Lord, I am so poor that no one is willing to be at my service in this matter; I’ll take the baby, I’ll go, and I’ll ask the first person I meet to act as sponsor, and if I don’t meet anybody, perhaps the sexton will help me.’

He went and met Death, but didn’t know what manner of person she was; she was a handsome woman, like any other woman. He asked her to be godmother. She didn’t make any excuse, and immediately saluted him as parent of her godchild, took the baby in her arms, and carried him to church. The little lad was properly christened. When they came out of church, the child’s father took the godmother to an inn, and wanted to give her a little treat as godmother. But she said to him, ‘Gossip, leave this alone, and come with me to my abode.’

She took him with her to her apartment, which was very handsomely furnished. Afterwards she conducted him into great vaults, and through these vaults they went right into the underworld in the dark. There tapers were burning of three sizes–small, large, and middle-sized; and those which were not yet alight were very large. The godmother said to the godchild’s father: ‘Look, Gossip, here I have the duration of everybody’s life.’ The child’s father gazed thereat, found there a tiny taper close to the very ground, and asked her: ‘But, Gossip, I pray you, whose is this little taper close to the ground?’ She said to him: ‘That is yours! When any taper whatsoever burns down, I must go for that man.’

He said to her: ‘Gossip, I pray you, give me somewhat additional.’ She said to him: ‘Gossip, I cannot do that!’ Afterwards she went and lighted a large new taper for the baby boy whom they had had christened. Meanwhile, while the godmother was not looking, the child’s father took for himself a large new taper, lit it, and placed it where his tiny taper was burning down.

The godmother looked round at him and said: ‘Gossip, you ought not to have done that to me; but if you have given yourself additional lifetime, you have done so and possess it. Let us go hence, and we’ll go to your wife.’

She took a present, and went with the child’s father and the child to the mother. She arrived, and placed the boy on his mother’s bed, and asked her how she was, and whether she had any pain anywhere. The mother confided her griefs to her, and the father sent for some beer, and wanted to entertain her in his cottage, as godmother, in order to gratify her and show his gratitude. They drank and feasted together. Afterwards the godmother said to her godchild’s father: ‘Gossip, you are so poor that no one but myself would be at your service in this matter; but never mind, you shall bear me in memory! I will go to the houses of various respectable people and make them ill, and you shall physic and cure them. I will tell you all the remedies. I possess them all, and everybody will be glad to recompense you well, only observe this: When I stand at anyone’s feet, you can be of assistance to every such person; but if I stand at anybody’s head, don’t attempt to aid him.’

It came to pass. The child’s father went from patient to patient, where the god-mother caused illness, and benefited every one. All at once he became a distinguished physician. A prince was dying–nay, he had breathed his last–nevertheless, they sent for the physician. He came, he began to anoint him with salves and give him his powders, and did him good. When he had restored him to health, they paid him well, without asking how much they were indebted. Again, a count was dying. They sent for the physician again. The physician came.

Death was standing behind the bed at his head. The physician cried: ‘It’s a bad case, but we’ll have a try.’ He summoned the servants, and ordered them to turn the bed round with the patient’s feet towards Death, and began to anoint him with salves and administer powders into his mouth, and did him good. The count paid him in return as much as he could carry away, without ever asking how much he was indebted; he was only too glad that he had restored him to health. When Death met the physician, she said to him: ‘Gossip, if this occurs to you again, don’t play me that trick any more. True, you have done him good, but only for a while; I must, none the less, take him off whither he is due.’ The child’s father went on in this way for some years; he was now very old. But at last he was wearied out, and asked Death herself to take him. Death was unable to take him, because he had given himself a long additional taper; she was obliged to wait till it burned out. One day he drove to a certain patient to restore him to health, and did so.

Afterwards Death revealed herself to him, and rode with him in his carriage. She began to tickle and play with him, and tap him with a green twig under the throat; he threw himself into her lap, and went off into the last sleep. Death laid him in the carriage, and took herself off. They found the physician lying dead in his carriage, and conveyed him home. The whole town and all the villages lamented: ‘That physician is much to be regretted. What a good doctor he was! He was of great assistance; there will never be his like again!’ His son remained after him, but had not the same skill.

The son went one day into church, and his godmother met him. She asked him: ‘My dear son, how are you?’ He said to her: ‘Not all alike; so long as I have what my dad saved up for me, it is well with me, but after that the Lord God knows how it will be with me.’ His godmother said: ‘Well, my son, fear nought. I am your christening mamma; I helped your father to what he had, and will give you, too, a livelihood. You shall go to a physician as a pupil, and you shall be more skilful than he, only behave nicely.’

After this she anointed him with salve over the ears, and conducted him to a physician. The physician didn’t know what manner of lady it was, and what sort of son she brought him for instruction. The lady enjoined her son to behave nicely, and requested the physician to instruct him well, and bring him into a good position. Then she took leave of him and departed. The physician and the lad went together to gather herbs, and each herb cried out to the pupil what remedial virtue it had, and the pupil gathered it. The physician also gathered herbs, but knew not, with regard to any herb, what remedial virtue it possessed. The pupil’s herbs were beneficial in every disease. The physician said to the pupil: ‘You are cleverer than I, for I diagnose no one that comes to me; but you know herbs counter to every disease. Do you know what? Let us join partnership. I will give my doctor’s diploma up to you, and will be your assistant, and am willing to be with you till death.’

The lad was successful in doctoring and curing till his taper burned out in limbo.

#death #grim reaper #slavic folklore #samhain #halloween #food and folklore #godmother #scary godmother #woman doctors #october #witch #pagan #fairytale #folktale #folklore #brothers grimm #fairy tales #fantasy #klickwitch #herbs

[womansfilm]

#fleabag #olivia colman #godmother #m #I’m the dad

[postcard-from-the-past]

Cinderella with her Fairy Godmother

Disney themed French vintage postcard

#themed #historic #fairy #photo #briefkaart #vintage #godmother #sepia #photography #disney #carte postale #postcard #postkarte #postal #tarjeta #ansichtskarte #french #old #ephemera #postkaart #cinderella