Detail From Caravaggio’s “The Incredulity Of St. Thomas”, C. 1601-02.

you know it's critical when even the self proclaimed freaks are normies

I think this will forever be one of the most beautiful and heartwarming quotes I'll ever see. It not only captures Guinevere's genuine, unconditional love for Lancelot but knowing who Lancelot is and how he feels for her, this must've made his poor heart beat like a drum 😭 I'm so sappy when it comes to them. They're messy and complex but they're something so, so beautiful.

Parallels: Medraut/Turunesh from The Winter Prince and Claude/Diana from Who Made Me A Princess

"fat is not a dirty word" badges by BryonyMayArt

Went and got cookies because I’ve had a shit week and my cat stole one from the box!!

If you see this you’re legally obligated to reblog and tag with the book you’re currently reading

Pred and Prey + The Ram by CoypuCoyote

Hello, I am Tareq from Gaza Iam trying save my famliy from the

genocide happening here. I ask for your help in spreading my story

and donating if you can contribute anything, no matter how small.

Please don,t forget to sharethe latest post from my page and follow

my account to help spread the story to the world. Thank you.

https://gofund.me/481656bc

this has been verified !! unfortunately I am unable to donate due to financial situations and my age, but I hope to spread the word and help others and myself engage in the saving of this family and more. please do spread the word.

I'm in the rafters looking down It's cold up here between walls of stone I made my home and the air hangs heavy with the incense feathers fall from pigeons cooing in the tower I rarely go down there, the view's just so beautiful from here and I can see everybody at their worst points at their worst points I'm not a sadist, I enjoy just being able to be witness of the loneliness and be a higher power In case there isn't one In case there isn't one I'm not a higher power, I just live in the ceiling 'cause I'm lonely on the fringes, and it gives my life some meaning In the exile In my exile the grey light filters through roof slabs and the flagstones glow bright from the stained glass a hundred feet below as I tiptoe creaking over prayers pleading with their maker crying with the choir I'm not immune to the sincerity below me makes me feel, it makes me holy, but through tears I understand that I do not belong no, I do not belong watching the figures, all the saints, but mostly sinners come and go and some are desperate, but the others have the sense that they do belong and I do not belong some only turn towards the heavens when the end Is feeling desperate, have the overwhelming feeling that there's nobody who's looking down at least I'm looking down

DAUGHTER OF LIFE, KNOW YOUR DEATH :

it was not I who loved, yet it was another world I wished for that did. may this rain and day be forever, for tonight only ends in blood and tears of my lost life and brother.

by @to-lamb-to-slaughter (source of image unknown) / rainer maria rilke, translation by c. f. macintyre, from duino elegies; “the second elegy,” / by @to-lamb-to-slaughter (source of image unknown) / medea by euripides