#night at the library

[teddys-draft]

A love language ✨

[august-racoone]

what in the welcome to night vale

[amicus-noctis]

"If I am worth anything later, I am worth something now. For wheat is wheat, even if people think it is grass in the beginning." - Vincent Van Gogh

Painting: "Wheatfield with a Reaper" by Vincent van Gogh

[flowersforfrancis]

[shisasan]

𝙹𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝟸𝟹, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺-𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟹

[ID: She loves quiet. END ID]

[carebeardean]

Charles whose dad smashed his cassette tape with a hammer learns to navigate the backpack cause, like, he needs to be useful, yeah?

and this way Charles has everything Edwin needs, and if Edwin gets sick of him he’ll just.. he doesn’t know what he’ll do.

but then Edwin gets the record player.

he suggests, tentatively, that Charles might play some of his “queen” if he liked. after all, if they are to haunt potential realtors away from their new office, they may as well entertain themselves.

so they take turns, switching out; edwin likes opera. he shows Charles how to waltz, chiding Charles to stop looking at his feet til they’re gliding, whirling around like they’re in the movies. Edwin’s smile is small and pleased and lovely. (Charles attempt to get Edwin to headbang along to queen results in a sort of awkward rhythmic nodding. Charles loves him so much he could die again.)

And, like. Edwin doesn’t like clutter. he doesn’t bother with the random tidbits ghosts give them for solving cases.

until now, apparently.

now he comes back from trading at the goblin market with little useless things—a cursed rubix cube, records from bands Charles mentioned years ago.

Charles is so busy trying to subtly read his book on Edwardian courting rituals (disguised by Nikos discreet manga covers) that he doesn’t realize what Edwin’s set down in front of him. he stares at Edwin’s spiky handwriting, the tidy numbered list.

“I thought, perhaps, that we might—start a new tradition.”

Charles blinks, eyes stinging. “Mate, did you.. make me a mixtape?”

“Crystal assisted me, and while she was absolutely insuffer—“ Edwin staggers, catching him with a surprised little noise.

“I love you so much,” Charles says, muffled into his throat. “You’re my favorite person. I love you so much it hurts, sometimes.”

“Yes,” Edwin says softly, hands curling around his waist. He takes Charles weight like it’s nothing. “I believe I know the feeling.”

[academic-vampire]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓂𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝑜𝑜𝓀𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓃

[wedarkacademia]

"August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time."

-Sylvia Plath

[natureaestheticdreams]

@natureaestheticdreamsfor for more 🥜

[maepolzine]

A Night at the Library: MN Zoo Jack-O-Lantern Spectacular 2022

A little photo journal of the MN Zoo Jack-O-Lantern Spectacular (A Night at the Library)

A few years ago I went to my first ever MN Zoo Jack-O-Lantern Spectacular, then COVID happened so we didn’t end up going the two years following that. Well, this year it’s back or rather we went back to it. The theme for this year was: Night at the Libary. So, everything was themed around various types of books you might find. There are more than 5,000 glowing carved pumpkins at this event. So,…

[darkparisian]

[lone-nyctophile]

[histsciart]

"Queen of the Night"

Selenicereus pteranthus, known as "queen of the night" or "princess of the night" is a night-blooming cactus.

This week's HSA Sunday Garden features SciArt found in The Natural History of Plants, Vol. 1 (1894) by Anton Kerner von Marilaun, translated by F. W. Oliver with the assistance of Marian Busk and Mary F. Ewart. This particular image was printed from the original by Ernst Friedrich Heyn held by the publishing company, Bibliographisches Institut in Leipzig, Germany.

View more in Biodiversity Heritage Library with thanks to the Mertz Library of the New York Botanical Garden for digitizing.

[charlies-a-ghost]

if you see this I’m taking you on a date to the planetarium then we’re going to a cat cafe and a library. best places on earth criticism isn’t taken

[shisasan]

Letters to Véra by Vladimir Nabokov

[flowersforfrancis]