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That specific sickly, weird, mottled green color that appears when two mirrors are reflecting each other into infinity is so fucking beautiful… I love you weird nasty green of the aether….

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"A MIDNIGHT SNACK WITH M. R. JAMES"

cone 10 stoneware, cone 5 earthenware, black slip, glazes, underglazes, majolica, black mason stain, red and black terra sigillata

the complete ghost stories of an antiquary tea set is done! all ready for some toast and marmalade and tales of creeping fear...

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liveblogging long lankin to show why i love it like my suspiciously feline firstborn (episode one, many spoilers but out of context)

-dan rhotic lancashire accent <3

-dabbin folk stick togetherrrr 💪

-fun christmasy intro and silly clapping!! ,,,, ~tehstinghh~

-dahdahdah. why isn’t this fuckn thing working??? thank yOU… riyt ,,,riiiiyt.

-edmund kittiwake!!! versifier and gentleman informerrrrr, metaphysical poet, failed divinity student, son of a weaver, and not a blacksmith inspired by sean bean

-trepanning.

-you’d then have to burn… the librarian

-an enormous hamlet!

-some lead for your scrofulous parts

-bahbahbahbarber alchemist

-thistlethwaite, kittiwake and berry <3

-dan wheeler: butcher, baker, podcastmaker, barber alchemist

-kittiwake and his killigrewesque voice!!! and the bound nature of a circle!!

-the MOLE

-working out all our personal issues as characters, that’s good 😎

-berry the amateur taxidermist

-when i was a boy. and he was a boy. (and they were both boys)

-nedwin havelock >:(

-so i was gulling young men

-the silent smoky obelisk of john dee

-six hours with biddy graham’s finest mince pies (aka nick berry makes a friend) that would never be anything more 🤨 (and their game of twister) (‘and then they fucked like wild dogs’ no they didn’t 🔎👁️)

-bugger off ned!!! you’re interrupting the WEAVING!!!

-secret gluten intolerance

-a cat’s stare that would make a bishop concerned (she’s foreshadowing)

-what’s his name? watt’s his name (x1000)

-you’ve got ghosts in your blood, let’s do some cocaine!!

-i’ll cook the wine while you cook the baby :D

-roll snitch 😎

-the rangey muscularity of the blacksmith

-WATT resemblance (but there’s an H in there…)

-i dip my hare-blood-soaked hands in the wassail and suck it off my fingers 🤢

-it has TEETH. do you feel disturbed?

-we’ll have this wrapped up in no time! let’s all look at the baby again!

-a metaphor for the curious…

-dee himself would have turned his face away!! and then turned it back! for greater study

-i feel deeply uneasy about doing this but it is the period (kiss him!)

-kill your son, no worries if not, all the best nick berry xxx

-joseph backstory monologue <3

-the jolly brown turd musical interlude (when will it drop on spotify) you’ve not collected this one?

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Fleabag + Richard Siken

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grant us a pope who knows what it is to exist in the space between certainties or something <3

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Conclave (2024) dir. Edward Berger

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🌸 From One Mother’s Heart – Please Read 🌸

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.

With love and endless gratitude

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My Journey to Escape the War in Gaza

My name is Abdelmajed. I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I am a survivor of the war here, and in the blink of an eye, everything I once knew—my home, my safety, my community—was ripped away from me.

The war has transformed Gaza into a graveyard of broken dreams. The buildings that once stood as symbols of life and resilience are now piles of rubble. Every corner is filled with the echoes of explosions. Every moment is shrouded in uncertainty. There is no security. There is no stability. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.

Basic needs have become luxuries. Food is scarce. Clean water is even scarcer. Hospitals are overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there is almost no medical care to be found. Every night, families go to bed hungry, praying they’ll wake up to see another day. The cost of basic necessities has skyrocketed, and it’s become a daily battle just to survive.

I’ve seen things I never thought possible—standing in long lines for a piece of bread, rationing every drop of water, and watching my people suffer in silence. I have lost everything—my home, my safety, my dignity.

Escape from Gaza is my only hope, but it’s almost impossible without financial help. The cost of evacuation is far beyond my means, and without support, I’m trapped in a warzone with no way out.

I’m reaching out to you now, in the hopes that someone, anyone, can help. I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for a chance—just a chance—to live. A chance to escape this never-ending cycle of fear, destruction, and loss. A chance to rebuild my life somewhere safe, where I can begin again, where I can find hope once more.

Any amount you can give will help me get closer to safety. Even the smallest donation will make a difference—it could be the lifeline I need to survive. If you are unable to donate, please share my story. The more people who hear it, the better the chance that I can find the support I desperately need.

Your kindness and support mean the world to me. You’re not just helping me escape a war; you’re giving me a chance to live, to rebuild, to breathe again.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring.

Vetted by @gazavetters

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every episode of Call the Midwife

Sister Julienne: I'm worried about Sister Monica Joan, she's barely eating and she keeps talking about her mother

Sister Monica Joan: I am undoubtedly dying!

random woman: I'm eight months pregnant and decades of family drama is coming to a head! Also my husband/mother/sister is ill.

*nuns singing montage*

*Fred pops up out of nowhere* Does anyone want a pork pie? I'm selling pork pies now.

Dr Turner, lighting a cigarette: I'm fine with gay people and I love vaccines

Timothy, smugly: if only they could invent a vaccine for homophobia.

Shelagh, rifling through medical paperwork: I think there's something wrong with random woman's husband/mother/sister. Please don't ask how I ever have time to raise my children.

*sixties pop music montage!*

*random woman gives birth, it's either a girl or a boy*

*family drama is resolved*

*random woman's husband/mother/sister dies/is cured*

*Trixie gets a new haircut*

Old Jenny: and that was how I came to deeper understand the fragility and beauty of life in the East End (she literally wasn't there)

*Sister Monica Joan lives for another ten years*

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saw a picture of dj próvai without the balaclava today why does he look like that buzzfeed unsolved guy

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SOMETHING WE CAN’T UNDERSTAND HAPPENED A THOUSAND YEARS AGO

(commissioned piece for @toenailish)

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i love pictures of the international space station which are just completely overexposed because that is just.. unequivocally an angel.

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‘is fheàrr gàidhlig bhriste na gàidhlig anns a’ chiste!’

[better broken gaelic than dead gaelic]

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MCALLISTER BUILDING NOOOOO BROOE

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Shakespeare & Co. in Paris. One of my favorite bookstores on the planet.

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damn … im actually a fallen angel who has been forgotten by god for thousands of years & forced to repeat a cycle i will never learn for all eternity