#Saint for scholars

[portraitsofsaints]

Saint Thomas Aquinas Doctor of the Church 1225-1274 Feast Day: January 28  (new), March 7 (Trad) Patronage: Academics; against storms; against lightning; apologists; booksellers; Catholic academies, schools, and universities; chastity; philosophers; publishers; scholars; students; theologians

Thomas Aquinas was an Italian Dominican friar and priest. Also honored as a Doctor of the Church, Thomas is considered the Church's greatest theologian and philosopher. Pope Benedict XV declared: "This (Dominican) Order ... acquired new luster when the Church declared the teaching of Thomas to be her own and that Doctor, honored with the special praises of the Pontiffs, the master, and patron of Catholic schools." {website}

[tiffanyachings]

it would have been very beautiful. camilla would have had to cook (horrible bone soup)

[ranminfan]

St. Thomas Aquinas, Doctor Angelicus

Dominican friar, philosopher and theologian. To think he was set to become a Benedictine abbot, instead he joined the unlikely poor friars of the Dominicans to become part of the radical mission in preaching the word of Christ.

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I was not as familiar with this St. Thomas back then, but now knowing a lot more, I'm becoming so fond of him and his life.

[lost-in-yahargul]

Also for research purposes!

[needlemeister]

scugs r us

[galaxirin]

Whoops have a doodle

[whenbonestellhistory]

It was unexpected when Trina had visited him outside of the dream for the second time.

There they were, opening the door of his room without knocking much like they did when he was gutting a deer.

He’s clean this time, dressed for the spring in light colored clothes with simple patterns that depicted geometric shapes and flowers, sitting on his own bed without a worry as he acknowledged their presence.

“I didn’t expect you to barge in again today, would you like to do something?” He asked, a small smile gracing his lips, also realizing he grew accustomed to their presence rather quickly.

He never really understood why they seek him out specifically, but he’s not complaining; if anything, he adored the attention either Trina or Miquella provided him with as neither of them intended to use him for anything.

Encounters with Trina were rarer, though. And so he intended to treasure whatever time Trina spares for him for the day.

@thesleepdeity

[ubejamjar]

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ Saint Mocianne's Arboretum ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

[fareehaandspaniards]

Associations post

While I am doing big Laurence post, I found out that lots of paintings for me have strong vibes and references for certain characters. If I will write big text again - I swear I fall asleep, so just a post for me to have as reference in future

Anne of Cleves for Rom

Saint John drawn by Sandro Botticelli and angel drawn by Filippino Lippi for young Laurence

THIS ADORABLY LOOKING MAN - ‘Hans Tucher’ by Albrecht Durer for DAMIAN OF MENSIS GKLNSKJRGTNSKEJHFTKJEA AAAAAA *girly screaming* I LOVE THIS PAINTING FOR YEARS YOU CAN'T IMAGINE HOW MUCH

Oswolt Krel by Durer oooooooooohohhhhhh for Sir Gremia and I I II I I.... (not a reference tbh! My Gremia has different face shapes. But MOOD. THE VIBE. AAAAH)

A man with leather belt by Gustave Corbet for Ludwig

Lady Marjorie Manners (1883–1946), Later Marchioness of Anglesey by James Jebusa Shannon  as Saint Adeline! For long time I tried not to think that she is black-haired but... Lady fell in love with Bicolash in my head and I can't get rid of this headcanon now

Hans Holbein the Younger - "Sketch of unudentified woman" for Adella

I think I will add more later! :0

[swallowtail-ageha]

Funniest thing abt micolash is that when you forget his fandom characterization as the teheheeeeh weird quirky guy he's actually pretty terrifying and one of the most morally corrupt people in the lore

[craigthetourguide]

⚠️ DANGER! DANGER! HIGH VOLTAGE! ⚡

[mytardisisparked]

Almost Enough

As Scully faces the end of her battle with cancer, she writes a letter.

Read on AO3

Mulder,

I don’t want to write this letter. It’s not the first that I have written, as you well know, but those were letters I never intended for you to actually see. I no longer feel any kind of certainty that this one will remain unread.

I probably shouldn’t have told you that. I see the way you search my face during your visits to make sure that I am still fighting, that I still have hope. I am still fighting, and I will continue doing so, but I know, deep in my heart, that this is a losing battle. I see it in the doctors’ eyes. I hear it in my mother’s voice. I feel it in the treatments they flood into my veins. 

And yet, I still feel hope in the way you hold my hand. In the way you press your lips to my knuckles and forehead. In the way your eyes still hold mine so steadily, even as my family and my care team struggle to maintain eye contact.

I know I look like Death. Her icy visage has become mine; it has sunken in my eyes and cheeks and paled me to the point of ghastliness. It has taken the shine from my hair and left me bruised and weak. I no longer look like myself. I don’t expect anyone to feel comfortable around me. But still, you hold my thin hand and smile into my deathly face and kiss my hollow cheeks. 

Regardless, if you are reading this letter, none of that matters. This letter is only to be sent to you if I am gone. 

I know you believe in ghosts. I still don't, really, but I hope I haunt you all the same, in the right ways. I hope there is a small voice within your conscience that sounds like mine, telling you not to throw yourself to the wolves. I hope it warns you of when your passions are edging you towards something dangerous. I hope it protects you when I can't.

Every night, when you inevitably look up at the stars and wonder what might be looking back at you, I hope you know that I am there. I will always be there. You do not need to search for me. You do not need to chase the truth of where I have gone and who took me. 

Death has taken me, but I am always with you. Within you. Around you. I am the soft light cast by the lamps in your apartment. I am the sugar in the iced tea you drink on long trips. I am hanging on the wall behind our desk. I am tucked away in the filing cabinets between the pages of medical reports and autopsy diagrams. I am reflected in the glasses you wear when your head aches from reading. I am loaded into the gun that you rarely ever fire outside of the range. 

Please be careful, Mulder. Please don’t chase every shadow by yourself. Please find a way to live on and live well. 

Go get dinner with The Lone Gunmen. Go tell my mother another funny story from a case. Go meet new friends and love them in that wholehearted way you always do. 

And please, above all else, know that I have loved you.

Scully 

—

Her fingers shook as she folded the letter into thirds, tucking it away into an envelope. She swiped a finger under her tired eyes before reaching to the stand beside the hospital bed for her pen. 

She was halfway through writing his name on the front in big, swooping, slightly shaking letters when she heard his voice outside her door.

Quickly, she stuffed the envelope and letter under the comforter, putting a smile on her face and hoping that the dark circles under her eyes would be enough to hide her earlier tears. 

He walked in with his usual smile and a bag of what smelled like pastries in his hand. 

“Morning, Scully.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. She folded her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting with the concealed letter. 

“I brought you something.” He smiled widely, brightly. It colored the pale walls of the hospital room as he reached into the bag and pulled out a huge, chocolate donut.

The smile on her face became genuine. “I don’t think I’m allowed to have those.”

“Actually,” Mulder pulled the serving tray table over to her bed and laid a napkin out on it with all the gusto and grace of a proper English butler, “I spoke with your doctor. It took some bribery - and, maybe, a little shaking down - but he said you can have this donut as long as you split it with me.” He laid the donut on the napkin and took out a plastic knife, cutting it in half.

She tilted her head at him, fondness washing over her. “Mulder, are you lying?”

He looked up, his gaze solid, unwavering. “No. I wouldn’t do anything to put your health further at risk.”

She swallowed hard as he turned his attention back to the donut, cutting her half into smaller bites. After a moment, she reached out and took his hand.

It was sticky from the glaze, but warm. He was always warm. He looked back up at her, a question in his eyes that soon faded into understanding. His lips drew into a soft, almost-smile and he squeezed her hand.

Under the sheets, she gripped the letter tightly, its cool pages and hard edges digging into her palm and fingers. It wasn’t enough. How could mere words ever be enough?

She squeezed his hand harder and hoped he would feel everything there that the letter did not contain. Her fingers tried to will an imprint of this memory into his skin and mind that would last longer than her own life. 

He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles without looking away, and she felt certain that he would not forget. 

It would almost be enough.

[irreverentizzyposting]

bloodborne animal assigning but it makes less and less sense

Ludwig is a draft horse. Enough said

I think the horns of a caribou match better than a regular deer

Just look at him..

Vampire.

Djura looks exactly like a palas cat and I will die on this hill.

Greasy like a leech. Slimey bastard.

both are very cute and like fish

This is an inside joke but I feel like it makes sense.

Rob zombie is Bradly’s spirit animal 💕

[biblically-accurate-butch]

A Prayer for the Summer Scholar

May the Lord bring peace to your heart, courage to your spirit, and wisdom to your mind.

The mind of a scholar is one of that, that never rests. To you who seek to be honorable, intergitable, and noteable in your search for truth, and knowledge, note that the Lord sees your heart. In a world full of cheats, liars, and half-doers, may those who work ernestly be fulfilled by the fruits of their labors. When you are overwhlemed by all that you are given, ask the Lord for his guidance. May he grant you the paitence to see through to your studies, and trust in your given abilities to do good, and power through stroms of uncertainy.

Do not lose yourself in worth, for grades on paper are nothing compared to what the Lord has made you out to be. Pride and Vainity are evils that lurk in the shadows of acidemia. Remember to be humble in all that you do. Be gentle to yourself for the Lord is with those who are humble in heart and modest in their words but robust in their work.

Ephesians 6:6-7 Don't work hard only when your master is watching and then shrink when he isn't looking; work hard with gladness all the time, as though working for Christ, doing the will of God with all your hearts. Psalms 56:8 You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.

Lord as us scholars goes on throughout the day may we be reminded that it is a blessing to learn, a privilege given to us by circumstance. May we be forever grateful for the opportunity and give thanksgiving to the Lord by doing our best to best honest, ernest, hard working scholars with integrety and dedication so that we may bring good to the world in which you have given to us.

In your Holy Precious Name we pray

Holy God Holy Mighty Holy Immortal.

Amen

[zlobonessa]

hm. i feel like I'm not unhinged enough for the past few days. here's my old-but-reworked omegaverse headcanon tier list.

[tytolito]

icon robin

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