#the queen's papa & mummie

[spiritundaunted]

Bertie and Elizabeth with their baby daughter Elizabeth (future Queen Elizabeth II) in December of 1926. They look so sad to me in this photo - this was taken shortly before their tour of Australia and New Zealand. They were going to leave their precious baby for five months!

[puppys-tiny-space]

👑names to call your caregiver👑

🐾Masc names:🐾

Papa, Daddy, Baba, Dada, Mr.Mommy, Mrs.Daddy, Appa, Big bro, Uncie, Bubba, Sir (can be silly), Mister, Bub, Knigth, King, DD, Dad, Pa, Gramps, Pop, Papi, Babbo, Babbetto, Otousan, Papchka, Abba, Abee, Papcio, Baa, Pare, Pai, Paozinho, Papcio

~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°

🎀Fem names:🎀

Mama, Mumma, Momma, Mommy, Mr.Mommy, Mrs.Daddy, Eomma, Anne, Big sis, Auntie, Grammie, Grams, Bubba, Bub, Miss, Ma'am, Knigth, Queen, Mom, Ma, Mummy, Moer, Maji, Mami, Mammina, Okasaan, Mamula, Bunda, Ama, Mutsi, Mamachka, Morsa, Ima

~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°

🧃Neutral names:🧃

Bubba, Bub, Mr.Mommy, Mrs.Daddy, Big one, Big sib, Untie, Paba, Dami, Noddy, Nopa, Mada, Noppie, Obie, Mr.Queen, Mrs.King

Dad joke of the day: Why don't eggs tell jokes? Because they'd crack each other up!

[for-valour]

On this day, 86 years ago: 12th May 1937:

The Coronation of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth.

‘…Then came Papa looking very beautiful in a crimson robe and the Cap of State.’

‘I thought it all very, very wonderful and I expect the Abbey did, too.’

‘The arches and beams at the top were covered with a sort of haze of wonder as Papa was crowned…’

‘When Mummy was crowned and all the peeresses put on their coronets it looked wonderful…’

‘At the end, the service got rather boring as it was all prayers. Grannie and I were looking to see how many more pages to the end, and we turned one more and then I pointed to the word at the bottom of the page and it said ‘Finis.’ We both smiled at each other and turned back to the service.’

Excerpts taken from 11–year-old Lilibet’s account of her father’s coronation ❤️

Bertie looks so very anxious in some of these clips 🥹

All gifs made by @for-valour

Source: YouTube.

[mdemorita]

today, but in 2017, 6 years ago, Ghost released their first live album, "Ceremony and Devotion"

Recorded as part of the 2017 North American "Popestar" tour, Ghost released their first full live album, a 15-song compilation of the band's hits.

Ceremony and Devotion has two covers, one of them showing a golden phallus on the statue of Papa Emeritus III

- Square Hammer

- From The Pinnacle To The Pit

- Con Clavi Con Dio

- Per Aspera Ad Inferi

- Body And Blood

- Devil Church

- Cirice

- Ghuleh / Zombie Queen

- Year Zero

- Spöksonat

- He Is

- Mummy Dust

- Absolution

- Ritual

- Monstrance Clock

[undeadorion]

Finally listened to Zombie Queen as something other than Terzo's silly kazoo song. It sounds downright seductive, especially at the beginning. Of course Secondo's sexy song would start with the word "putrefaction". Oh, it's literally about rising a dark goddess. Yeah, that fits with what he'd find hot.

Then I came back around to the fact that this is the song Terzo plays on the kazoo. And it's the most brother shenanigans I can imagine.

Secondo insisting that Terzo perform HIS songs, because he so willingly passed the title of Papa. But Terzo thinking it weird to sing his brother's fetish song. But relenting under pressure like "Fine, but I get to do my way." Then without telling anyone, whips out the kazoo.

Then out doing Secondo on the front of sheer ferocity. Just out of spite. Because Mummy Dust is so angry it feels like a glimpse at what lurks closer to his core.

[nicohischierz]

Could you write something for my husband? Like literally anything. Thanks queen 😘

umm i most definitely can write something for your husband 😙

you weren’t fully awake, but the rustling of your bed sheet made you alert of the tiny body climbing onto your bed.

“dada, wake up,” your daughter whispered.

nick opened one eye to look at his daughter before he pulled her into his chest.

your daughters giggles filled the room as her father tickled her sides. your daughter fidgeted in her fathers arms before just lying in his chest.

“come on papa we have to make mummy’s breakfast,” she whispered.

nick widened his eyes before getting up, your daughter now sitting on his hip.

the father-daughter duo made their way into the kitchen to prepare your breakfast.

“i know you’re awake,” nick called into the room.

you pretended to ignore him but when he climbed on top of you and gave you a kiss, you gave in almost instantly.

“mummy wake up, we made breakfast!” your four year old beamed.

you sat up against the wall and gasped as you watched as a plate of pancakes was placed on your lap.

“did you make this all by yourself?” you asked.

your daughter shook her head and pointed to her father.

“i mixed the ingredients but dada put it on the pan,” she explained.

you lifted your daughter up and kissed her cheek “thank you pumpkin you’re the best,” you complimented.

nick then looked at you with puppy eyes “do i get a kiss too? i helped put them on the pan,”

you looked at your daughter who was trying not to giggle. “i guess i can spare one kiss for you,” you joked, leaning over and kissing your husband.

depsife the hectic schedule of the hockey season, these were the moments you and nick treasured the most.

[lady-rose-moon]

I heard you were looking for requests, so... Here I am! 😁💕

What about Y/N finding out that she's pregnant again and she has to tell Loki - and of course Haven. 🥺🥰 Something super fluffy. 🥰

Please and thank you! 🧡

Together || T.S!Loki x Reader ||

A/N: thank you for the request, lovely!! So sorry that I took so long! I hope you enjoy it!

My Main Masterlist

Cabin in the Mountains || TS!Loki x Reader ||

Pregnancy seemed to come less naturally after Haven, every time you tried to conceive with Thomas, it always ended with you crying over a negative test. Especially after Odin fell into the Odinsleep and Thor refused the throne - making the throne fall to Loki alone. 

Something had to be wrong with you, you decided after you returned to the cabin when Odin awoke eighteen months after he collapsed in the main hall of Asgard’s palace. Something had to be wrong with you for not being able to conceive as quickly as you had conceived Haven. Thomas seemed to be so much calmer than you in this situation, more understanding with the stress of having a toddler and the move to becoming Queen Regent of Asgard when Loki became King. 

Still, the God of Mischief spent night after night tangled in the sheets with you, following your wishes of having another baby. 

However, Loki had been away now for a fortnight, having to return to Asgard because Odin wished to discuss a matter with both his sons. The sorrowful farewell had broken your heart but at least you had your daughter there by your side, a memory of Loki and such a sweet child. 

It had been a fortnight since you had seen your husband and it was starting to show. You spent more time with Haven, wrapped up in the blankets of the master bedroom than out in the warm summer weather. You relied on your daughter for comfort while Loki was away and you anxiously waited for your God to return.

Another day began for you and still there was no sign of Loki returning. Your stomach twisted with sudden nausea and you barely made it to the bathroom before you emptied your stomach into the toilet, gripping the sat desperately as you gasped for breath. Waves of nausea crashed over you and you whined brokenly,  holding your stomach in pain. This felt familiar somehow, an ache deep in your body, a memory of a feeling you’d felt years ago.

With hope in your heart, you decided to head into town with Haven, showing the toddler around the town and stopping at a coffee shop before heading to a pharmacy and grabbing a few pregnancy tests. You needed to be sure, you needed to know whether what you thought was right.  

When you got home, you smiled as Haven run into the living room, a happy grin on her mouth as she jumped onto the sofa. “Mummy, mummy!” she called brightly, kneeling on the sofa with a grin as she looked over the back to look at her mother, “come play with me!”

You stared down at the bag in your hand, deliberating between getting your theory confirmed or playing with your daughter. In that moment, Haven was so much more important than any kind of pregnancy test would ever be. Setting down the bag on the countertop, you smiled and strode over to your daughter, picking her up and settling her on your lap. You held out your palm and it lit up with the beautiful forest green of your seiðr, catching Haven’s attention almost instantly. 

The little child had always been mesmerised by the sight of seiðr and wished to know all that she could about the magic that she had along with her parents. She sat on your lap watching as your seiðr formed many different animals all playing around in the air above your hands, laughing and reaching out when a cat broke from the formation to rub against her face affectionately.

Haven laughed and looked up at her mother with pure love in her eyes, her enjoyment only increasing when you changed the animals to an illusion of you, Loki and Haven. The child smiled adoringly at the illusion, her hands reaching out to her father with a childish grin. “I miss papa,” Haven whispered softly, her eyes flicking from the illusion to you behind her, “when will he be back?”

“Soon, my little sunshine,” you replied, brushing your nails through her hair comfortingly as she sagged against you with an adorable sigh, kicking her legs impatiently. “Your father will come home when everything is sorted with your grandfather,” you whispered to her, lifting her into your arms and walking down to her bedroom, “now, it’s naptime.”

Haven whined and shook her head, tears welling up in her emerald eyes as her lip trembled. The little girl obviously wished to sleep with you but you needed to see what the pregnancy test said so you needed to get her down for a nap. Walking into Haven’s room, you laid her down in her toddler bed and knelt beside it with a soft smile. “Sleep little one,” you whispered, kissing her forehead and gently brushing her hair away from her face, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

It took ten minutes for the child to settle and allow sleep to take her and you stayed by her side loyally, whispering stories to her and shining magic above her to act as a lullaby before she fell asleep. Now alone, you took a deep breath and left the child’s room, heading over to the plastic bag on the counter. 

You took two boxes into the bathroom and used them before sliding down the counter, waiting for the two minutes to pass. 

Those were the longest two minutes in your life. You thought of all the bright things that could happen when another baby is brought into your lives. Thomas would be so happy to have another baby, Frigga would be overjoyed to have another grandchild to play with and Thor - well, he’s not exactly allowed to babysit but he’s a cool uncle when supervised. You thought of your stomach swelling, thought of Thomas walking around with this infant in his arms, you thought of how your family would feel much more complete. 

The shrill ring of the timer broke you from your thoughts and hesitantly, you picked up one of the pregnancy tests and gazed down straight at the stick with two lines. Shocked, tears welled up in your eyes and you dropped the pregnancy test. Pregnant. 

You smiled ear to ear and picked yourself up off the floor while your hand fell to your stomach. Suddenly, the roaring thunder of the Bifrost startled you out of your thoughts and you grinned as you raced through the cabin to swing the front door open. 

There he was. Loki. Back and safe. You released a broken sob and ran down the steps to jump into his arms. The God’s arms wrapped tightly around your back and he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You sobbed as you held him tighter, nuzzling into his neck as you tried to calm your breathing.

He was back. Your husband was finally back. 

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” you bawled into his shoulder as his gentle hands caressed down your spine.

“I promised I would come back, pet,” Loki whispered lovingly in your ear. He helped you back into the cabin, his touch grounding and comforting for you. He was back and already the ache in your heart had evaporated in favour of the oceans of love you held for the prince in front of you. 

You heard the small pattering of feet before you saw a whoosh of blurred light and heard Loki release a laugh of delight as he fell on his back with Haven clinging to his body. The small girl was crying and happily chanting ‘daddy’ as she kissed his face. You helped Loki to his feet, smiling as he cradled Haven in his arms expertly.

“I have something to tell you,” you whispered to the both of them, looking over to the living area with the roaring fire and you conjured three glasses of hot chocolate on the coffee table. You guided your husband and daughter to the living area and quietly sat down, smiling when you saw how desperate Loki looked to know what you had to say. 

Haven sat on Loki’s lap eagerly, her sparkling emerald eyes trained on you lovingly. “What is it, mummy?” she asked in her tired yet overjoyed voice, her body practically buzzing with happiness over the return of her father. 

“Haven, you know how we talked about you soon being an older sibling?” you asked, seeing Loki tense up in front of you, his intelligent brain firing with reasons before he realised and you could see the moment you realised because his eyes snapped to you, tears shining in his eye. 

“Well…” you continued with a small smile, biting your lip before resting a hand against your flat stomach, “mummy is going to be giving you a baby sibling soon.”

Haven gasped, her eyes shining with excitement before she jumped off the sofa and ran around the coffee table shouting ‘i’m gonna be a big sister!’ before she stopped in front of you with a bright smile, “when will the baby come, mummy? Tomorrow? In a week?”

You laughed softly and stroked her ebony hair. You saw a lot of Loki in how she looked, she was his mirror image and soon, you hoped your next child would be the same or a small sliver of hope held out that your next will look like you more. “They’ll come when they’re ready, little sunshine,” you whispered to her before lifting her up, seeing the worry in Loki’s eyes immediately before you playfully glared at him and he backed down with a fond smile.

You carried Haven to her bedroom and laid her down in her bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. “Go back to sleep, my little sunshine,” you whispered tenderly to your child, smiling when Loki knelt beside you at your child’s bedside.

“Will I have to share my bedroom with the baby?” Haven asked as she rolled onto her side and gazed at her mummy and daddy.

“For a while,” Loki replied with a soft smile, pressing a kiss to Haven’s head and gently pushing hair out of her face, “then we’ll add a new room to our cabin and that will be their room. Will you be a good big sister?”

“I will! I promise!” Haven grinned, her eyes shining with such joy she seemed that she might explode if she got anymore delight.

Loki smiled lovingly and helped you to your feet, whispering a soft ‘goodnight Haven’ before walking out of the room. The God left the door slightly ajar incase Haven needed either of you. 

Once you were in the silence of your bedroom, Loki dropped to his knees and pressed a kiss to your flat stomach. “A baby,” he whispered tenderly, green magic swirling around him, transforming him from Loki to Thomas, “another baby. You are truly a wonder, Y/N Sharpe.”

You laughed and ran your fingers through his curls, smiling at the contented smile on his face at the reassurance of your love. “Our family is growing again, Thomas,” you whispered quietly, smiling when he looked up into his eyes, “we will continue to do this together.”Thomas melted at your gentle words, his thumb gently stroking against your flat stomach. “Together.”

Main tags:

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins @iamsherlocked1479 @kittiowolf210 @just-someone11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loki-laufeyson-1054 @fictive-sl0th @coldnique

[sexslip]

I got the tight pussy of a sexy Bhabhi by luck.

Only the lucky ones get such pussy. I had seen my cousin Bhabhi getting fucked by a stranger. So I got the chance.

Friends, first let me tell you about myself.

My name is Sunny, I am a 22 year old good looking boy… I study in a college.

I am the only beloved son of my mom and dad.

My Bhabhi who had come home as a new bride.

She is like a firecracker and is as white as milk.

Her figure is 34-28-36.

Meaning so hot and sexy that anyone can take his erect penis in his hand and masturbate after seeing her.

One day mom sent me to Bhabhi's house to give her something.

That day brother had gone out somewhere, the door of their house was open.

It was summer time so I went inside their house without making any noise.

Bhabhi was sleeping.

I saw that Bhabhi was sleeping in a nighty and because of the cooler being on, her nighty was filled with air.

Due to the cooler air filling between her legs, a kind of balloon had formed and the nighty had come up to her knees.

She was not wearing anything inside the nighty, so her pink pussy was visible. Both legs were completely open, so the view of sexy Bhabhi's tight pussy was clearly visible.

For some time, my mouth remained open.

Then I kept the stuff I had brought there and came back home.

The same scene was going around in my mind.

Bhabhi's pink pussy was visible in front of my eyes again and again.

After being in such a situation for a long time, I could not control myself and I masturbated by imagining.

From that day, my view towards Bhabhi had completely changed.

Now, whenever she came to my house, I kept looking at her boobs and ass.

When she did not come home, I would make some excuse and go to her house.

One day I was going on my bike to attend tuition.

My brother called out to me- where are you going?

I told him- I am going to tuition!

My brother said- wait a minute, do one thing… you drop your Bhabhi also at Akhil’s shop on the same route. She has some work there.

On hearing this, I was overjoyed that what a wonderful service Bhaiya had provided.

Since this was my first opportunity to ride with a lady on the bike.

Then the queen of my dreams Bhabhi was sitting with me on the bike, I made her sit properly and moved ahead.

The touch of her soft body was arousing me.

Just then the bike fell into a ditch and I applied the brakes, her breasts rubbed against my back.

Ahh it was so much fun…my penis started hissing immediately.

Now I was deliberately applying brakes and Bhabhi's big boobs were rubbing against my back.

Bhabhi had probably understood something and said- drive slowly na!

I said- Bhabhi the road is bad, what can we do!

So she said- ok.

I was having a lot of fun.

After some time I left Bhabhi at her place and asked- should I come to pick you up?

So she said- no, your brother will come.

I left from there.

This touch had given me a lot of relief.

Then one day when I went to Bhabhi's house, I could hear a sound from inside.

I understood that Bhaiya and Bhabhi must be having sex, let me go and see... at least I will get to see Bhabhi's boobs!

When I peeped through the window, Bhabhi was completely naked.

Her hair was open and her juicy breasts were bouncing up and down and spreading fun.

Bhabhi was having fun getting fucked.

But when I saw the person fucking her, I was speechless.

The man fucking her was not Bhaiya, he was the dumb mechanic in front of her.

I kept watching Bhabhi getting fucked with surprised eyes.

I was getting very angry.

Then I took out my mobile and started recording the video of Bhabhi getting fucked.

I made the entire video of their fucking and left from there.

When I came home, I came to know that Nani was unwell, so Mummy and Papa were leaving to see Nani at that time.

Mummy told me everything and said- Actually we will return tomorrow only, but we will see about coming depending on how Nani is feeling there.

I had my exam, so Mummy told me- I have told your Bhabhi, she will make vegetables for you. Rotis are ready and your Bhabhi will come here to sleep at night. Your Bhaiya is out today, he will return tomorrow morning.

I became very happy with the news of Bhabhi coming.

I made a plan in my mind that today I will fuck the slutty Bhabhi. Today the whole house is mine.

When evening came, Bhabhi came home.

I had made all the arrangements. The house was smelling of fragrance.

Then Bhabhi cooked vegetables and we both had dinner.

I started talking to Bhabhi.

At that time I was sitting near her.

While talking to her, I told her- Bhabhi, I like you very much.

Saying this, I kissed her.

Bhabhi pushed me away and slapped me on the cheek.

I started acting- Bhabhi, please don't tell anything to anyone.

She started saying- Let your mother come, I will tell her everything.

I said- Bhabhi, I have something for you too.

She said- What is it?

I showed her the video.

She got scared immediately and started deleting the video after seeing herself getting fucked by that dumb mechanic.

I said- Yes, of course, delete it, I have many copies. They started crying and one of them said- please delete them all, I will not be able to show my face to anyone.

I said- Bhabhi, I have no objection to what you do with whom. If you enjoy having sex with the mechanic, then I am not refusing. I just want to say that if Bhaiya is not able to satisfy you, then you should do it.

If you are coming then give me a chance… such things are better at home. I am giving you this chance today that I can be of great help to you. An outsider can defame you but I am from your house. You can have sex with me without any fear.

Hearing this, Bhabhi gathered her hands while crying and came to me.

She started bowing at my feet and said- I made a mistake. Please forgive me.

I picked her up and removed the dupatta of her salwar suit.

Now Bhabhi's boobs were clearly visible.

I said- Okay, I will delete the video… but I also want the same pleasure which you gave to that mechanic by mistake.

She started covering herself with her dupatta and said- No, I have understood my mistake. Now I cannot do all this with anyone. Anyway I am your Bhabhi.

I said- Okay, I am not deleting this video right now. But tell me, did you leave the house so that you could quench your thirst with a stranger because of my brother's weakness?

She did not say anything.

I said- Bhabhi, I am your brother-in-law and the matters of the house should remain in the house. Everyone feels the hunger for sex, there is nothing wrong in it. I just want to have sex with you and you also need a strong man.

My words had an impact on Bhabhi and she agreed to have sex with me.

She said- Okay, but you promise that you will delete the video.

I said yes and Bhabhi agreed.

Bhabhi also agreed to stay in my room at night.

First I took Bhabhi in my arms and started kissing her pink lips.

I started getting the pleasure of heaven in kissing those lips which were as intoxicating as rose petals.

Bhabhi also started cooperating fully.

I asked her to sit down and waved my long and three inch thick penis in front of her.

As soon as Bhabhi saw my penis, she said- Oh my God… this is so big and thick… I will die!

I said- No woman has died in this world till date due to getting fucked by a penis.

She looked at me and started smiling and said softly- If I had known earlier that you have such a great rocket, I would have ridden it long back.

I said- Yes, I understood that very day on the bike that the work will be done easily, but what to do Bhabhi… your brother-in-law was scared, so I could never say anything.

Bhabhi held my penis with her hand and stroked it, so I asked her to take it in her mouth.

She refused. She said- I have not taken anyone's penis in my mouth till now.

I said- Okay. I will teach you everything… I have a video right now.

Bhabhi laughed and started licking the tip of my penis with her tongue.

I asked- How do you feel?

She laughed and said- It is very salty.

I moved the head of my penis around Bhabhi's lips and put my penis in her mouth.

Then I grabbed her hair at the back with my hand and started moving it back and forth.

It was a lot of fun to put my penis in Bhabhi's mouth.

She was also sucking my penis with fun but since it was her first time, she was making a little more noise.

When I pushed my entire penis till her throat, tears started coming out of her mouth.

I started moving my penis in and out.

In a short while, my entire penis was filled with her saliva. As soon as my penis came out, all the saliva from Bhabhi's mouth would come out and land on her lips.

Then I grabbed Bhabhi's hair and made her stand and removed all her clothes and made her completely naked.

I could not resist seeing her juicy breasts and started sucking her breasts.

Bhabhi was also pressing me on her breasts and making me suck her breasts.

Her light raisin colored nipples had become very hard.

Now I made her lie down and inserted one finger in her pussy and started smelling it.

Then, inserting two fingers, I scratched her pussy and she screamed.

I smelled the fragrance of Bhabhi's pussy and also tasted it by licking my finger.

Bhabhi was smiling.

Now I could not resist and I started licking her pussy with my tongue.

As soon as I started licking her pussy, she jumped up and started moaning sensually- ah I am dead… ah ah… no one had done this. Ah… it feels good. Lick it deeper!

This meant that even that dumb mechanic had not sucked Bhabhi's pussy.

That is why Bhabhi started enjoying getting her pussy sucked.

Then Bhabhi put both her hands on my head and started pressing my head on her pussy.

In a short while, Bhabhi released her hot water.

I drank all the water from her pussy.

After that, I placed the tip of my penis on her pussy and tried to insert it inside.

But it was surprising that my cock was not going inside her pussy because of its thickness.

I asked her- what is this puzzle Bhabhi?

She said- that mechanic was also not that great and he had fucked me for the first time that day. After fucking I scolded him and sent him away because I was not satisfied.

I said- never mind, now today I will satisfy you completely.

I spit on the tip of my cock and spread the lips of her pussy and set the cock.

I had just put the tip inside when she started screaming loudly- uuui maa I am dying!

I caught Bhabhi's waist and gave another jerk again.

Just think Bhabhi's mother is fucked.

A sound came from sexy Bhabhi's tight pussy as if a cloth has been torn.

My cock entered Bhabhi's pussy completely tearing it apart.

I started moving my cock in and out while moaning.

After some time Bhabhi also started enjoying.

Then after ten minutes we both changed positions.

Now I was lying on the sofa I sat down and Bhabhi sat on my cock.

I put my cock in her pussy and sat down and started fucking her by moving up and down.

Along with pussy fucking, Bhabhi's juicy breasts were in my mouth which was giving double pleasure.

I was really enjoying fucking her.

To stop her loud aah aah sound, I pressed her lips and started moving her ass up and down with my hands.

After a few minutes, I made her a mare and fucked her.

Bhabhi started saying - I am enjoying a lot getting fucked like this.

Then, without telling her anything, I spit on the tip of my cock and suddenly put my cock in her ass.

She screamed - aah aah I am dead!

I said - you slut, there is a lot of fun in your ass, right ... today I will take out all your fun.

And I kept fucking Bhabhi's ass.

As soon as I took my cock out of her ass, there was a big hole in her ass.

Now I put my cock in her juicy pussy and started thrusting.

She said- I am about to cum again!

I said- Me too.

Then we both came together and after kissing we slept naked there.

When we woke up in the morning, Bhabhi was not able to even walk.

I picked her up and took her to the bathroom.

We both bathed together and then had sex in the bathroom.

Then she was making breakfast, so she was only in bra and panty.

Source:- https://sexslip.info/

I lifted her leg there and started fucking her.

Now we both used to have sex anytime, anywhere and whenever we wanted, we used to do it.

Bhabhi started being very happy with me.

You guys must tell me by commenting how you liked the story of my sexy Bhabhi's tight pussy.

[phoenixxxlily]

Favorite TV Shows I Watched in 2023

Ginny & Georgia (2021-?)

"You win more flies with honey, but if you get yourself a bee, sting first."

The Legend of Vox Machina (2022-?)

"Do not go far from me."

Daisy Jones and the Six (2023)

"Look, I know I said I'd tell you everything, but how much of everything do you really want to know?"

The Last of Us (2023-?)

"I was never afraid before you showed up."

Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story (2023)

"I will stand with you between the heavens and the earth, do you love me?"

NCIS (2003-?)

"My name is Anthony. Friends call me Tony. Which backwards is 'Y Not'."

The Summer I Turned Pretty (2022-?)

"There will always be something between you and Conrad."

Heartstopper (2022-?)

"You are a pathetic little man. Talk about my brother like that again, and I'll end you."

The Fall of the House of Usher (2023)

"What if I said you get all that, the whole thing, and the price is deferred? Let the next generation foot the bill. So that's the deal. You get the whole world, and when you're done, at the end of it all, just before you would have died, Roderick, just before you would have died anyway...your bloodline dies with you."

The Crown (2016-2023)

E: "Aren't you coming? We can join mummy and papa for breakfast." M: "I'm afraid not...but I will always be by your side. No matter what."

Percy Jackson and the Olympians (2023-?)

"Hold fast, Perseus. Brave the storm that was meant to break us for we are unbreakable as long as we have each other."

[teamwindsorroyals]

So much talent early on. I love the drawing of the Queen and of the lorry.

[ghouletteanon]

Mushy May: Day 22 -  Teaching a skill; Helping during band practice

I am back with the Fake Dating AU, aka The Ghoulettes Against the World. This fic takes place before their first tour, so they are still just pretending to be a bonded pair even if there's tension in the air.

As always, prompt list for Mushy May can be found here, put together by the awe-inspiring @forlorn-crows.

Relationships: Cirrus/Cumulus

Summary: Zephyr helps Cirrus nail the solo in Mummy Dust, and Cumulus helps out during practice.

Word count: 748

Rating: Teen, Cirrus is horny for Cumulus

Cirrus and Cumulus stare silently at Zephyr’s hands as he shows how he likes to perform the solo part of Mummy Dust. Cirrus tries to commit his hand movements to her memory, knowing she will have to mimic Zephyr as closely as possible, so the fans won’t be annoyed at her replacing Zephyr.

Nobody outside of the Ghost project knows that Zephyr can’t do another tour. Cumulus and Cirrus have trained for weeks now with Zephyr, and even if they know they have the skills to do it they had been whispering to each other late at night about how worried they were. If Cirrus could not nail the solo, Cumulus would have to step up to the plate even if she felt like her stronger talent was singing.

But if neither could, both would be sent back to the pits.

“Cirrus, I’ve seen you play similar things on the keyboard, a keytar is really not that different,” Zephyr assures Cirrus as he helps her with the keytar strap. “It’s your moment to shine.”

Cirrus offers a nervous smile but steels herself. Zephyr knows some of her weaknesses, but she shouldn’t get too comfortable around her mentor. One word from him to Imperator and she was doomed. “Let’s do this then.”

Cirrus knows it’s not good when she finishes her first attempt. She does a quick curtsy, feeling obligated to do something as she looks up and sees Zephyr looking at her from his chair, leaning pensively against his cane. “Those were notes and in the right order, I guess. But I am not feeling it. What do you think, Cumulus?”

“Oh, it’s…” Cumulus tries to come up with a comment that won’t just tear the other ghoulette down. “It lacked feeling? Or like, you were afraid or insecure.”

“Exactly!” Zephyr injects, pointing at Cirrus with his cane. “You are supposed to be showing off, strutting your stuff like Papa likes to say it. You’re the king, or queen, of the ghouls in this moment and you should be damn proud of yourself.”

Cirrus can almost see the cogs inside Zephyr’s head turning as he mutters something. He gets up from his chair. “Cumulus, sit here. Cirrus, I need you to woo your mate. Play to her like you are showing off to her and try to seduce her.”

Cumulus gulps but does as she’s told, sitting down in Zephyr’s chair as Cirrus shakes her hands and tries to loosen up for a new run of the solo. Zephyr was just trying to help them; it is not his fault that Cirrus is not actually bonded with Cumulus and had never tried to show off and seduce her.

Cirrus has never felt this awkward. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and starts playing. She feels the music, slowly beginning to shake her hips until she remembers where she is and opens her eyes. Cumulus is looking right at her, mesmerized, and Cirrus immediately feels much more confident. Cumulus’ support is all she needs. She pushes her performance, adding more flare as she dances around kneeling right in front of Cumulus’ chair, letting go of her hesitancy as she does a body roll and grinds up against the keytar, encouraged as Cumulus blushes beautifully. Cirrus always wants Cumulus’ attention on her, the way she responds to how Cirrus caresses the keytar making her curious to see how Cumulus would respond to being caressed.

The moment ends when Cirrus finishes the solo and gets up from the floor, trying to be as elegant as possible. Cumulus is still staring, her mouth open and Cirrus decides to finish with one last tease. She lifts her right hand up to her face and forms a V with her pointer and middle finger, licking the space between them teasingly.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Zephyr bursts their bubble with his loud compliment, clapping his hands. Cirrus suddenly remembers they weren’t alone in the band practice room. “That last thing was genius. Right, Cumulus?”

Cumulus dries the drool off her chin with the back of her hand. Her hair is fluffier than usual, affected by the sudden static electricity in the room. “Yeah, sure, wonderful.”

Zephyr coughs, realizing just how affected Cumulus is, and picks up his cane. “I’m going to take that as my cue to leave.”

Cirrus tries to thank Zephyr for the help, but once she’s recovered from the intensity of Cumulus’ stare he is already long gone.

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfiction

Read from the beginning on Tumblr || AO3 || My Website

Chapter 107: January 1993

It’s cold and gloomy and it’s been raining off and on most of the day—most of the week really—so for a bit, Martin wasn’t sure this would actually happen. But Papa’s home and he promised they would do this when he got home, and Papa never, ever, ever breaks his promises, so they got up very early and went to the train station and bought their tickets and got on the train, and Papa even let Martin give their tickets to the conductor, and now here they are.

Martin has never been so far away from home before. Granddad takes him on trips sometimes—last year they went all the way to Norfolk to see the Queen, and Martin honestly doesn’t think he’ll ever see anything better than that—but this is a long, long way away. He didn’t actually press his hands and face against the glass of the train window because that sort of thing makes Mummy upset, and when she gets upset she gets one of her “bad spells”, and when she has a bad spell Martin has to be very, very quiet and take care of her, but he gripped the edge of the window sill excitedly and stared out the window at the ever-shifting scenery for the whole way down here. Papa sat beside him and pointed out all kinds of things to him, and Mummy napped, so maybe it would have been okay if he put his face against the window, but he didn’t. It’s the first time he’s ever seen London, too, even if they didn’t get out of the train there, and Papa says they’ll take a trip there the next time he’s home for Martin’s birthday, so that will be fun. He even answered all of Martin’s questions about why they didn’t have a steam train, and what the difference between steam and diesel is, and what parts of the books he likes so much are based in truth and what parts were just made up to tell a good story.

Papa never minds when Martin asks questions. And he never tells Martin to stop asking questions just because he doesn’t know the answers. He always says something like I don’t know, son, but we’ll find out together, eh? Granddad is like that, too, sort of, but sometimes when Martin asks questions Granddad says things like that’s a question for when you’re older, you young rip, and Martin doesn’t understand why, because if he’s old enough to know to ask a question, isn’t he old enough to know the answer? At least part of it? Still, inside his own mind at least, he can admit that they’re both better than Mummy, who either tells him to be quiet or pretends she doesn’t hear him. He’s learned not to ask more than once.

Mummy and Papa are fighting right now, going back and forth about the room—Mummy wants to know why they didn’t get a suite, why it isn’t on the bottom floor, why it’s facing the direction it’s facing, and why there’s only one bed, and Papa is snapping about space and money and convenience and something called a rollaway cot—but Martin is doing his level best not to listen too hard or ask what they’re talking about. Mummy gets mad when he interferes in adult conversations. Martin’s not entirely sure what interfere means, but he thinks it’s when he tries to say he’s sorry or fix the problem when Mummy and Papa are fighting, or when Mummy and Granddad are fighting, or when Mummy and Mrs. Jones are being very polite to one another. So Martin sits on the big, wide windowsill, looking out at the grey sky and the grey street and the grey grass that ends very suddenly just on the other side of the street.

He realizes he’s humming under his breath and tries to stop himself, pressing his hand over his mouth to make him swallow the sound like Mummy always does. Humming or singing to himself while he’s walking around the house or doing his chores is another thing Mummy is always telling him to stop doing, along with biting his lip, sucking his thumb, pulling his hair, and picking the skin around his nails. She’s a little nicer about it when Papa is home, but still, he doesn’t want to make her more upset than she already is. He doesn’t want her to have one of her bad spells while they’re on their vacation.

He’s being very, very good and very, very patient, because he’s supposed to be, but inside he is practically bursting with excitement and anticipation. It’s not like he’s never seen the water before, but this is a different water and a different kind of beach, and he wants to see what might be there after all the rain. Okay, it is kind of raining right now, so maybe not just this second, but still, he wants to go out and look.

It doesn’t sound like he’s going to get to any time soon, though. Mummy’s voice is getting sharp and Papa’s voice is doing that thing it does when he’s trying not to start shouting, and they’re not just talking about the room anymore. Usually that means Papa goes out and won’t take Martin and won’t be back until late, and Mummy goes up to her room and doesn’t come out. But it’s all one room, so she can’t do that, so Martin wonders what’s going to happen if things get louder.

“I’m going to go find out about renting a car for the week,” Papa says finally, his voice tight with anger but still not at the shouty point. “Shouldn’t be too long. Get some rest.” He stomps out the door. Martin braces himself for the door to slam—that’s another thing Mummy hates—but lucky for both of them, Papa shuts it quietly.

Mummy makes a hmmphing noise that usually means she’s about to tell Martin to go make her a cup of tea, and he presses his lips together and tries not to panic. There’s no stove in here, and no kettle, and he doesn’t know if Mummy and Papa packed the tea—Martin always thinks of it as the Bad Tea, not because it tastes bad but because Mummy only tells him to make it when he’s been bad, but it’s actually called oolong—and if he asks her about it, she’s going to be even madder, and aren’t they supposed to have fun?

How old are you? a voice whispers in the back of his mind, a voice he doesn’t recognize but that sounds an awful lot like a grown-up, and Martin clenches his fists and mentally berates himself. He’s four years old—four and a half—he’s not a baby anymore, and he’s too big to whine about being asked to help out, especially when Mummy has one of her spells.

No, that’s not what I—Jesus, the voice hisses, and Martin beats himself up a little more because he isn’t supposed to say things like that, so he probably shouldn’t think them either. The voice whispers it’s okay, you’re okay, then falls silent, so he reckons he’s calmed himself down like he’s supposed to.

He gives a longing look towards the beach again. The rain looks like it’s letting up a little bit, and this would be the perfect time to head out and walk along the shore, but he knows better than to ask Mummy. If she’s having one of her bad spells, she can’t walk except on hard ground, and not very far even then, and she doesn’t like the beach much anyway. He’s going to have to wait for Papa to come back, but it’s going to be hard.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door, making Martin jump. Surprisingly, Mummy doesn’t ignore it or order Martin to get it. Instead, she stands up, crosses over to the door, and opens it herself. Martin can’t see who’s there, but Mummy says in her the sign on the door says “No Soliciting” voice, “May I help you?”

“I hope you don’t think me forward,” the person—a lady from the sound of it, with a low, cultured voice—says politely. “We saw you and your family checking in a while ago, and I heard the clerk tell your husband which room you were in, so we came up. I wonder if you’d let your son come down to the beach with us? We’ve been here three days, you see, and there are no other children staying here—my daughter would so like someone to play with.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Mummy says. Martin expects the next thing she says to be but no, thank you, I need him here, but instead she turns around without letting go of the door. “Martin.”

“Y-yes, ma’am?” Martin jumps to his feet quickly.

Mummy steps to one side. In the corridor just outside the door is a very pretty lady wearing a spotless frilled apron over a long dark skirt and a tight-fitted blouse, her hair piled up on her head kind of like Mummy does, but unlike Mummy’s fine ash blonde hair, hers is a dull, mousy brown. She looks like the illustration in the book he tried to read at the library last month, except some of the words were a little too hard for him to puzzle out and when he asked Mummy about them she said it was a book for girls and not for boys. Holding her hand is a girl who looks like she might be a little older than Martin himself is, with curly black hair and blue, blue eyes, wearing a dark wool coat that comes down to just above her smart black boots. She isn’t smiling, but she’s watching Martin with interest.

“Now, behave yourself,” Mummy scolds. “I don’t want to hear that you’ve been giving any trouble to this nice lady or her daughter who have been so kind as to let you come out with them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Martin says, because it’s what he’s supposed to say, but he’s a little worried. Mummy hasn’t even asked the lady’s name, or her daughter’s, and he’s not usually supposed to go off with strangers. If Papa comes back soon and asks, Mummy won’t be able to tell him who Martin is with…but, he reasons, the beach is right there after all. It won’t be hard to know where to go and get him really.

So Martin puts his jacket back on—it’s a little too big for him, actually a lot too big for him, but Mummy says he’s growing too fast and she can’t be buying him a new coat every single winter—and obediently follows the lady and the girl out of the hotel.

There’s a brief lull in the rain, but Martin still wishes he had a hat of some kind as he scurries after the lady and her daughter. They’re not running or hurrying, but they move quickly, and the lady almost seems to be gliding across the ground; he nearly trips twice before they make it across the street, but he doesn’t, and then they’re there.

He wondered, from the hotel, why he couldn’t see the water, but now he realizes it’s because this is kind of a cliff and the actual beach is down below, far too big of a drop to just jump, but Martin can’t see how he’s going to get down. He almost doesn’t care, though. He can hear the waves soughing and crashing against the beach, which looks like it might be more pebbles than actual sand, and the smell is both familiar and unusual; the big smell, the salt and the wind, is the same, but the smaller, underneath smells are different and give it a whole new flavor, and it’s very exciting. There’s nobody else out there, either, which isn’t surprising for it being cold and wet and January, and it means they’ll have the beach to themselves for a bit, he guesses. It’s probably too cold to go swimming, but maybe he can take his shoes and socks off and go wading? He might have to wait for Papa, though.

There’s a soft pop noise, and when Martin looks, he sees that the lady has unfolded a dark canvas beach chair and set it right on the edge of the cliff. She settles herself in it primly and nods at her daughter. “Go ahead. I’ll watch you from here.”

The girl nods back, then beckons to Martin. He thinks, for just a moment, they really are going to just jump off the edge of the cliff, but then the girl slips between two clumps of grass and he realizes there’s a zig-zag path that leads all the way down to the beach. Happy again, he follows her as quick as he can without falling and rolling all the way to the bottom.

It’s colder on the beach than up top, and a little windier, and the persistent drizzle is pretending to start up again, but Martin ignores it. Instead, he beams up at the older girl, who’s not really that much taller than him. “I’m Martin,” he says cheerfully. “What’s your name?”

The girl looks surprised that he asked. She stares at him for a minute without blinking, then finally says, “Ann.”

“With an E?” Martin asks, because that’s what the girl said in the book Mummy wouldn’t let him read.

Ann shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything else. Still, Martin decides that until she says her last name, he’s going to call her mother Miss Cuthbert. They stand on the beach just looking at each other for a few minutes. Martin can feel the rain, but he can’t see it, not yet, so it’s not so bad that they need to worry about going back up already.

Finally, he asks, “What kind of games do you like to play?”

He expects Ann to say she wants to build a sandcastle, or hunt for rocks, or maybe race each other down the beach. Instead, she surprises him by saying, “Hide and seek.”

“Hide and seek?” Martin repeats, puzzled.

“Yes. I’m It,” Ann adds. “I’ll count to fifty, and you go find somewhere to hide, and then I go looking. And then I can hide and you can try to find me.”

“O-oh, okay.” Martin looks around uncertainly. There aren’t…exactly a lot of places to hide on an open beach, unless he ducks under the water, but it might be a bit cold for that. And won’t his footprints show up and make it easy?

He waits for Ann to give him some more rules, like that he has to stay within so many feet or that he’s not allowed to climb the cliffs again, but instead she just covers her eyes and begins counting slowly and deliberately. Martin blinks at her hard, then turns and dashes away as fast as he can.

It turns out there are a few places to hide—clumps of scrub grass clustered around the base of the cliff, a few trash cans, even the remains of an old pier. Martin studies all of them and rejects them impatiently. Mostly he’s too big to fit behind them. He doesn’t know how much time he has left, either, because he can’t hear Ann’s counting.

Then he spies it—the perfect place. A random chunk of rock, easily as big as he is—maybe bigger—all by itself in the middle of the sand. He can stand behind it, or maybe sit with his back pressed to it, and be perfectly hidden, and maybe it won’t be the first place Ann thinks to look because it’s so far away from anything else. He rushes over as fast as he can and is surprised, but pleased, to discover a kind of hollow on the back side of the rock that looks like he’ll fit under it—just. Which is good, because it means he can keep the rain off while he waits for Ann to find him.

Martin drops to his knees and crawls under the rock. The cold of the sand seems to seep into his knees, and he really hopes he isn’t getting his trousers wet and dirty, Mummy will be furious. He curls himself into a ball, hugs his legs to his chest, and waits.

And waits.

And waits some more.

He strains his ears to listen. Surely he should be able to hear footsteps crunching on the sand, even over the gentle soughing of the waves. But he can barely hear the ocean from here, and he definitely can’t hear the sounds of anyone poking around the beach looking for him. It’s possible Ann is just walking carefully so as not to startle him, or that she’s too far away to hear yet, but…but how long has he been hiding now? Isn’t there a rule about calling for someone if you can’t find them? Martin doesn’t play hide and seek very often. Actually, he doesn’t play a lot of games very often, not with other children. He doesn’t go to school yet, and there aren’t a lot of other children in his neighborhood, so he only really sees them when he goes to the local parks. And Mummy isn’t usually up for taking him. He spends a lot of time with Granddad, really, and that’s…fine, it’s fine, but it means he spends more time playing backgammon and checkers and learning to read in three languages than he does running around. He can climb trees like a monkey, so Granddad says—and Papa too, he says Martin would make a fine deckhand—and he runs and swims well enough, but most of the time if he’s not doing grown-up things, he’s playing by himself.

There’s something you’re supposed to say when you can’t find people, Martin remembers, but he can’t remember what it is, just that it’s the phrase that means the game is over, come out, but it’s also the phrase that means I give up, which is probably why Ann hasn’t yelled it yet. She must be very determined. Martin can’t blame her. He’s usually so easy to find, anyway, on the rare occasions he plays, he’s usually the first one found, so it can’t be hard for Ann, especially when it’s just him. He just has to be patient for a little while longer.

He hopes she finds him soon, though. It’s getting cold. It looks like the rain is getting heavier, too. It doesn’t sound like it’s raining very hard, but the damp is getting into his hiding space and when he looks at the entrance, he can’t see very far. The salt smell is stronger, and it almost sounds like the waves are getting…quieter? Maybe the tide is going out. That means the ocean is getting farther away…right?

He waits some more, and listens hard again, but there’s no footsteps and no voices and almost no wave. And now he’s getting worried about the rock. When water gets into sand, it shifts its position, he knows that from a nature documentary, and if the rain makes the sand too wet and the rock shifts its weight, it might fall over on top of him, and even if he doesn’t get killed by the rock hitting his head or breaking his neck or something like that, he’ll be trapped and won’t be able to get out and maybe he’ll not be able to breathe and…he’s starting to panic a little bit.

Suddenly, he decides he doesn’t care if he loses the game. It’s not fun anymore, and he’s scared. He’ll come out and find—and find—he’ll come out and announce he’s giving up and ask if they can go back up to the top of the cliff and, and he doesn’t want to play anymore. He uncurls himself and half crawls, half falls out onto the sand, scrambles out, and pulls himself to his feet using the rock. The rock doesn’t budge. That’s good. Maybe.

It’s hard to see, though. The rain—is it rain? It’s not a hard rain if it is—makes everything hard to make out. He’s vaguely aware that the sea is off to one side and the cliffs are off to another, but all he can see are shadows. He can’t really see anything clearly but the rock right in front of him.

He can’t see any shapes that look like people.

“Hello?” he calls. His voice sounds small and quiet. He clears his throat and calls again, trying to sound louder, but it doesn’t really come out any louder.

Maybe it’s his ears? He can’t hear the waves anymore really either. When he takes an experimental step, there’s no crunch of sand or stone beneath his feet. And it’s getting even colder. He shivers and tugs at his jacket. It doesn’t do a lot of good. He can still feel the rain—no, not rain, he thinks. It’s fog, and it’s seeping into his bones. It feels like it’s seeping into his brain, too. It’s not just hard to see, it’s hard to think. He shakes his head to clear it.

Where’s—where’s—wasn’t there someone he was playing with? He bites his lip and tries to think. He wasn’t playing by himself, was he? Well, he usually does, so maybe…but no, he’s, there was…a girl? She’s, she’s looking for him, she must be…she said she would look for him. He presses his hands to the sides of his head and tries hard, so very hard, to just…think.

I go looking. And then I can hide and you can try to find me. He remembers now. She never said she would find him, but she said he had to find her and…and he doesn’t know where to start looking. Everything looks the same, and…he can’t even see the rock anymore, he—was there a rock there? Which way is the ocean? He stands in one spot, terrified to move, afraid that if he runs the wrong way he’ll fall in the water and drown, and why is there so much fog?

“Hello?” he cries out. “I—I’m lost! Help!” He starts to call out to the girl, but—what was her name? She told him her name, what’s her name, why can’t he remember her name—

“I don’t want to play anymore!” he cries, but the words get lost in the fog. “Hello? H-hello? I—” Tears spring to his eyes, and he dashes at them angrily. “I w-want—”

He wants—what does he want? Who does he want? There’s, there’s someone, someone waiting for him, someone who—or, or is he just making that up? Is it just a pretend friend, someone to make him feel better when he’s all alone? Isn’t he always alone really?

Is there even anybody else on the beach?

Is there anybody else in the whole world?

Is there anything out there at all other than him, and the fog, the fog that won’t go away, the fog that—

Olly-olly-oxen-free. The words slam into his head and he remembers, he remembers that’s what you say to make the people who are hiding come out, but—but he’s the one hiding, isn’t he? No. No, he’s doing the looking, which means he can say the words and then, and then he’ll lose, but the game will be over and he can go.

“Ol—olly-olly-oxen-free?” He cups his hands around his mouth and tries to shout, but the words don’t go very far from him. Maybe because he’s the only person to hear them.

No! No, that’s not—that isn’t right, it can’t be right, there was—there’s somebody, he knows somebody is there, Mummy sent him to the beach with—Mummy. He has a mummy, she sent him to the beach with a lady because—because Papa went to get a car.

Papa.

He has a mummy, he has a papa, he has—he has a name, what’s his name? They call him something, don’t they? He tries to remember, tries to hear their voices, but…b-but he can’t think, it’s too foggy, it’s too cold, it’s too lonely, and he wants, he wants, he wants, he wants to go home.

“Hello? Hello!” he cries again, and he’s really crying now, because he’s scared and he’s lonely and he doesn’t know where he is or anyone else is and he just wants to be found. He starts running, no longer caring if there’s, if there’s something he might, something bad that might happen, because anything is better than here and nothing and—

There’s a sound, a new sound he can’t quite make out, and he stops and spins all around him, breathing hard and fast and trying so hard to listen, but it’s so hard to hear and…and it sounds so familiar, it’s, it’s deep and resonant and it’s safe, it’s a sound that doesn’t belong in the fog and…

“…see o’er the foaming billows fair haven’s land…”

He knows that song, he knows it, and—he turns around, and there’s a shape in the fog, it’s moving, it’s making the sound, it’s, it’s—he starts humming along. He’s, he’s, something tells him he’s not supposed to hum, not supposed to sing, but the song makes him feel better and he remembers it, so he hums it very loudly as he runs towards the shape, and then he starts singing, his voice trembling and cracking as he tries to match the volume, but he’s not sure if the sound is making it through the fog or not.

“…leave that poor old stranded wreck and pull for the shore…”

The shape is fading in and out, and he can’t find it, he can’t see it anymore, and he’s scared, he’s so scared, he tries to find the voice, but it’s not singing now, and he stretches out his arms and cries out desperately and—

—and something is grabbing him, something is holding him, and it’s a shock because he was alone just a second ago and now he’s not and something is holding him and he can’t, he can’t, he needs to get away, he has to fight back, he—

“Martin! Martin, it’s me. It’s me.” The voice is familiar, so familiar, and it’s right in front of him, and there’s a shape, and—and now there are two hands on his shoulders, holding him still. “Look at me, Martin. Tell me what you see.”

“I see…” Martin. His name is Martin. That’s who he is, he’s Martin, he…he looks up and the fog clears, and he sees a face, round and white and with a scratchy stubble and curly copper-colored hair and worried apple green eyes, and he knows it, and he takes his first full, deep breath in what feels like forever. “I see you, Papa. I see you.”

Papa pulls Martin into a tight hug, and Martin clings to his shirt and cries, not sure how he has any tears left, and Mummy’s going to be upset with him because you’re too big to cry, Martin, you know better, but he has to, because…

“I’m sorry, Martin,” Papa says, his voice choked like maybe he’s crying too. “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have let you go if I’d known.”

“I, I couldn’t find her,” Martin wails. “There was a girl and—and w-we were playing hide and seek and—and I c-couldn’t find her, I was looking and—and there wasn’t anybody at all…”

“I know. I know.” Papa rubs Martin’s back. “They were part of something called the Lonely. I’ll tell you more about it when you’re older, but for now, just know they were just making you think like that. It wasn’t real, son.”

“I-it felt real.” Martin looks up at Papa, but he’s got tears in his eyes and he can’t see well. “I, I was all alone.”

“Not anymore.” Papa kisses him on the forehead and stands up, hefting Martin up in his arms and settling him on his hip even though he’s really too big for that, and Martin clings to his neck and rests his head on his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get ice cream.”

He carries Martin up the zig-zag path and doesn’t complain once about Martin being too heavy to carry, or too big to be carried, and he doesn’t put him down when they get to the street either, just walks with him towards the shops. He keeps talking as they walk, soft but steady, telling him about the things they’re going to do and places they’ll see and telling him, again and again, that he won’t ever have to be alone again.

Martin almost believes him.

When they get to the ice cream shop, Papa finally lets Martin down, but he doesn’t let go of Martin’s hand as they walk into the shop. It’s very, very tiny, but it smells good, and Papa takes him up to the counter and asks for two dishes of strawberry ice cream from the man behind the counter. Martin is glad there’s another person really there.

He looks around the shop without letting go of Papa’s hand and sees another boy, too, who looks about his age. He’s small and skinny and resting his chin on his arm, which is resting on the table, and he’s poking at a dish of ice cream listlessly. He looks about as upset as Martin feels, and there’s a little bit of Martin that’s glad he’s not the only one having a bad day.

“Jonathan, stop playing with your food,” the old woman, probably his grandmother, sitting across from him says in a weary kind of voice, and Jonathan—Martin guesses that’s the boy’s name—puts down his spoon and pushes the dish away from him. The old woman sighs, but doesn’t say anything else.

Martin almost wants to go say something to the boy, but he’s afraid to talk to anyone else right now in case they disappear too, so he cuts his eyes away and clings to Papa’s hand as they make their way over to a table in the corner and sit across from each other with their ice cream. Papa picks up his spoon and takes a bite, but Martin just stares at his, wondering if he’ll even be able to taste it. Everything just feels so…so far away.

“Martin,” Papa says quietly, and he reaches over and takes Martin’s hand. Martin looks up at Papa to see him looking at him with a very, very kind look on his face. “You won’t ever have to feel that alone again. I promise. I won’t ever let you be alone like that again.”

Martin bites his lips hard. “What about when you go out to sea with Uncle Kay again?”

“You still won’t be alone.” Papa takes off his cap, flicks it once to get the dust and hair off, and then leans across the table and puts it on Martin’s head. It slips down over his eyes for a moment, but Martin pushes it up and looks up at Papa, who smiles, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “I’ll always be with you, one way or another, as long as I’m able to draw breath. I promise on my very soul. I love you and I won’t ever let the Lonely have you. Ever.”

Martin looks at Papa for a long moment, then smiles back. Something warm settles in his chest, and he knows Papa is right. He won’t ever have to go through something like that again, and he’ll never be alone again, because Papa promised he wouldn’t.

And Papa never, ever, ever breaks his promises.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Good greetings rhythm,

I fear a new litter is on its way when mama papa are here. They might not love us anymore cos that’s what the fox cubs cousin’s mommy did.

When the second litter was in mamas belly i would turn into a wolf and press my ears to hear them. dont wanna do it again, bad new litter i will wail !! they will tire mama again all litters all pups tire mama and papa (i never did)

i am assuming we have a new litter because that is my biggest fear

Sincerely, prince felix!!

(🐧)

aww, my Prince. fear not. your mummy and daddy have sooo much love to give. especially to their pups. they will never stop loving you no matter what. if anything, are you not happy if my Queen and King are happy? you should be, Your Highness. the happier they are, the more energy they will have to play with you! and i am sure every new litter makes them super, super happy.

with love, Rhythm,

[judas-is-so-so-silly]

I saw a thing on twitter asking the papas fav songs but it cant be from their own album, so here's my take

Primo: as a classic metal enjoyer I think he would really like all of Copias instrumental songs, but fav lyrical song would probably be Faith and or Mummy Dust

Secundo: I think he likes songs that you can dance too, so Dance Macabre 😀

Terzo: Hes a dramatic guy who likes dramatic music so Hunters Moon is def up there but his favorite is Ghuleh/Zombie Queen

Copia: Idolatrine. I cant explain it but I think he vibes with the whole Infestissumam album

Bonus!

Nihil: Hes a dirty guy, so I think he would really like Monstrance Clock

[quccninchains]

| @king7doms sent: care, sender takes care of receiver when they're sick.

{☾} She's never been so miserable before in her life. Alicent shivered in the bed, looking much too small as a fever burned her little body. She wants her mummy. But her papa had reminded her that she could not risk coming to King's Landing. Not in her condition anyway. She was expecting her baby brother--or so the maesters all tittered.

Another boy. Seven boys, if they were right, and one little girl. If her father was disappointed that she was his only daughter, he made no show of it.

Alicent sneezes, throat swollen and raw, and her nose bright red and stuffed. Terribly stuffed! She could barely get a word out, to ask if Jon or Gwayne had taken sick either. Leyton had come and seen her before he made off to the North. But for the most part...she'd been left alone. And she could only read the same books over and over.

Being sick was boring and LONELY.

A little groan slips from her lips as she lifts her head to see Queen Lyanna approaching, a tray balanced in her hands. She knew her place was to get up and curtsy, to greet the queen with respect, but the illness kept her down.

"Your grace," she whispered, her voice hoarse as the queen settles down on the bed beside her. The smell of hot tea and broth swirls around and she tries to smile. Though her beloved mummy could not be here, at least she had Queen Lyanna--all but another mother to her. A hand, gentle and soft, strokes dark auburn hair from her damp forehead and she's greeted with a smile. She wants to tell her that she shouldn't be here, that she'll get SICK.

Of course, you cannot tell a queen--especially Queen Lyanna--to do anything they do not want to do.

So, she smiles and accepts the care, near to tears at the kindness of her surrogate mother. When the candles have burned to their core, she has fallen asleep, her head resting against the queen's thigh, as a calming arm draped around her shoulders.

[blackbird5154]

I've also heard that purple is considered a royal color. You can read about it here.

Also known as Tyrian purple, imperial purple or imperial dye, the shade is made by mixing red and blue hues. Royal Purple was officially launched as a Crayola crayon colour in 1990.

Purple’s association as the colour of royalty and wealth dates way back to ancient realms. Cyrus the Great – founder and king of the first Persian Empire – wore a purple tunic as his royal uniform. In Roman times, it was reserved exclusively for the Emperor - some even punished their citizens if they wore any shade of the colour! Similarly, during the Elizabethan era, Queen Elizabeth I set laws that permitted only her close relatives to wear purple. The Queen’s father – George VI - wore purple in his official portrait and the colour also featured prominently in her own coronation 70 years ago.

The power of authority is an important theme in Meliora. Papa steps into the role of manipulator (Cirice, He Is) and tyrant (Mummy Dust, Majesty) to criticize toxic authority. Not surprisingly, his costume is in black, purple and gold.

Papa's chasuble colours analysis.

It’s sad to see the fandom so sleepy, so what a better moment to be back with some ramblings…

So, we know each Papa got their own chasuble colour, but is it casually assigned?

In the Catholic church, vestments colours have specific meanings, usually they change based on the celebration or festivity period, so I thought it would be cool to find out if the meanings match in Ghost’s world too.

The colours used by our Papas are:

Papa IV - Blue: Advent. It is a period (usually 24 days) before Christmas. We witnessed his journey from Cardinal to Pope, with his ascension on stage; he basically reborn as Papa Emeritus IV. I think it would be a nice analogy to Christmas. Blue is also connected to the celebrations of the Holy Mary… I don’t think I have to say more.

Papa III - Purple: Lent. It is the 40 days period before Easter, when christians celebrate death and resurrection of Jesus… are you thinking what I’m thinking? Plus, purple is also the color of grief (death) in Catholic Church.

Papa II - Green: Epiphany/Pentecost. The Epiphany indicates many events in Catholicism, in particular the arrival of the Magis at Jesus’ birth, the event of his baptism and the Cana Wedding (that is also a badass painting of Paolo Veronese that the Louvre should give us back, btw. It is one of my life’s missions. They can keep the Mona Lisa.). So we have a birth (Year Zero), the moment Jesus becomes the “son of God” (Jigolo Har Megiddo, to say one) and a feast with wine (Body and Blood…?). The Pentecost is even more interesting; it is celebrated seven Sundays after Easter to celebrate the descent of the Holy Spirit on the Apostles, event that marks the start of the Catholic Church. Now, in 1966 Anton LaVey and Kenneth Anger founded the Church of Satan, declaring that year the Year One. Ghost did the Year Zero, which I always thought was a refer to both the christian Year Zero and the satanic Year One. In both cases, a birth/start is involved, so the birth of the Antichrist as main theme is on point.

Papa I - Red/White: red for Holy Week/Pentecost, white for Christmas/Easter/Marriage. It is often said that Primo represents everything that’s holy, so a refer to the holiest of Christian festivities would make sense to me.

I haven’t gotten into all the details because there would be too much to say and analyze. I don’t know if TF has ever planned all this, maybe not - even if in a last year interview he said he was planning the color scheme of the new era, so it shouldn’t be completely casual-, especially with the first Papas, but even if he didn’t his ass is lucky enough to catch some cool coincidences.