#Poes Garden

[tonyloon]

"Oh nooo, my dear Enric just died, he was my Pryde and joy… that's my fifth billionaire husband just fading away in my arms…. how could that happen?" Bonus:

Based on this wonderful chart that I sadly do not know the origin of: IF YOU HAVE THE ORIGINAL LINK PLS COMMENT OR MESSAGE ME SO I CAN CREDIT THE GENIUS WHO CAME UP WITH IT!!!!

[jaxyza]

garden of dreams 🦋🌼🌸🌻🌹🏵🌷🌺

Poe- bungou stray dogs

[flydinom]

Your honor, they're in love and happy.

[mortallypurpleshark]

And you grow out of your hobbies like you grow out of your old clothes, until bits and pieces of your long-abandoned loves come back to haunt you, along with the ashes of the dreams you set aflame.

[nilesmoon]

odasaku 🤝 ranpo

universal older sibling figures but noone else but me seems to Get It

[outhereinacrater]

Happy October! I made this “menu” for a coworker who needed some cheering up this month, I wanted to share it to the void for anyone else who’d like to try some of these October themed suggestions!

“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” — Anne of Green Gables

[artisthomes]

The Edgar Allan Poe National Historic Site, Edgar Allan Poe's home, at 532 N. 7th Street in Spring Garden, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States

[ewa-jednak-chce-spac]

[yoursminehourss]

i cannot be free of the plague in my brain that is ranpoe

[rafent]

"I had heard that it was your birthday, Rafal."

Not technically a lie, but not entirely accurate, either. More specifically, the moment he had acknowledged her birthday at this point nearly a year ago, his fate had been decided. Poe was no stranger to tracking what and whom she needed down, and even without easy access to the same records that he had, finding his date of birth had been not the hardest task she had undertaken. Well, one could learn just about anything about another if they were willing to put their mind to it.

But there were not gifts between the two of them. There was always that delicate balance of push and pull, give and take, and above all else, question and answer. Some time ago, she had asked: to what lengths are you willing to go for repentance? He had answered and shown his work in protection, in continued demonstration of the reduction of harm. If not perfect, Rafal had done well enough.

If pressed, Poe may even have been willing to admit that she had been impressed.

"I'd been stewing for a while on what would make for an appropriate gift. I could have baked you something, or found some trinket or other. But that would have been too easy." Instead, she lightly pushes forward her gift, unwrapped, across the table: a small, potted bonsai tree, procured from a specialty shop some distance from here. A healthy but wispy thing, trunk only an inch or so in diameter, beautiful but frail in its youth.

And so, Poe asks instead: I have seen you refuse to indulge in hurt—but can you shoulder the burden of nurturing?

The girl runs a finger along its square pot. "If it is taken care of well, it will bloom come spring." And if he did not care for it carefully, no doubt it would die. On top of that, each day he nurtured it would only promise more labor in the future. Watering, pruning, recycling the soil and repotting. All for the modest promise of its continued existence, meager gratitude in the form of yearly blossoms. A pain, this one—the bonsai tree. Or perhaps Poe. "And each spring after that. They're delicate things, but quite long-lived, you know."

If he does not care for it, it will die. Her own time and effort in finding it barely factored into the equation. So the fact that she had passed up countless lesser shops selling lesser specimens, could only mean that she has faith that she will not see that happen. Even if she is the only one by whom that fact can be seen.

(in fact, Poe would not be surprised if it were by his side longer than her, in the end.)

"It's hard work." She hums, dispelling any notion that she might be ignorant to the fact that she is gifting him a responsibility. "I wonder if you'll find it worthwhile."

Where Poe had hearkened one particular piece of information neither proudly blazoned nor readily divulged Rafal was almost led to question. It did not forego intent, the selective mouth on such a proud and contradictory dragon who might speak of his power plenty but of his most significant personal details little. However, an investigator Poe has proven herself to be; in the same vein, no doubt, as Rafal himself who had learned of her birthday by his own means. Pot need not question kettle, having reached the same black destination. And more importantly—

"Well. Your dilemma is nothing if not fitting. Easy is not any manner of word I have come to associate with you." Playful words trailed off to deeper brooding, eyes to take in the unsuitable gift of life, a young bonsai offered plot in a Fell Dragon's lair of all places. Slid across table into the clutches of that dragon, there was no mistaking what her gesture intended. Rapt attention following finger then explanation at last snapped back to girl. "—And true to form, I ought to have known a gift from you would come with its own labors entailed."

Indeed; to be allowed effortless enjoyment would be not only far too easy in the world of his teaching assistant but far from expected. She who had concocted a lengthy devil's game of candy for the very opposite. As a wizened rabbit might attach familiarity to a snare encountered time and time again, so too did Rafal recognize the abstract shape of meaning in Poe's gift—in the very next challenge.

He frowned in its measurement. It was far more than a tree, both knew; to Poe a fortifying build of character for one who had once ceaselessly destroyed; to Rafal the great irony - and near mockery - of two hands who had only ever made graves now aiming for gardens. Acceptance of responsibility over the potted bonsai seemed no different than wolf donning wool, once more, and once again by his own volition. However, what came next was not a no; however, Rafal had risen to meet every challenge thrust upon him by his arbiter; disappointed Poe, troubled her, at times hurt her, but never once cowed from her. And, of course, in the end a gift did not cease to be a gift for the faceted form it took.

At last he relented: ". . .I have read of this tree: bonsai. As you say, a kind beholden to a life of countless years when properly tended to. An intriguing choice for a long-lived dragon. However, that same choice should see question. What use is a tree that yields nothing to eat?" Quiet albeit grumbling, grumbling albeit only half earnest, he subjected her fruitless sapling to scrutiny. His pointer finger touched to its sparse green, gentle despite all criticism, and above all: telling.

"Next time you intend to gift me a tree, bring a neighbor that grows fruit."

With that, even quieter acceptance.

[milfsforfrankiero]

Hi I'm doing a special Halloween show at my local college station I volunteer at. It would be really cool if y'all tuned in! This link takes you right to us

All ya gotta do is listen at 6pm EST and I'm on for an hour!

It's a bunch of folk faves and an hour of banter from 6-7pm !Halloween! And ever Tuesday afternoon tbh

We're also Long Island based, and i try to focus on fun stuff and information about local shows on the scene and the East Coast!

Catch me at shows or tell me where I should head to next

[meilia-stims]

Hi! Can I get a Nevermore (Busch Gardens Williamsburg, Howl-O-Scream) stimboard, with feathers, Renaissance-esc themeing, glass pens, and (possibly) plague doctor masks? Ty!! 🕊 🖤

Nevermore (Busch Gardens, Howl-O-Scream) stimboard with feather, glass pens, and plague mask stims for anon

🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛

🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛

🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛

[possum-quesadilla]

How many references to Greek mythology in a Beetlejuice fanfic is too many

[crabsandbeer]

Edgar Allen Poe Pumpkin by Kevin B. Moore

[claire-de-lune-poetry]

Bloom-

Spring has intertwined its fingers in summers hand

Where bumble bee kisses meet beach covered sand

Meadows are lush & green with good health

Now I understand there are some things you can’t buy with wealth

You cannot rush the winters bitter end

Nor can you rush to heal or to mend

Leaves may brown, and roots might rot

But with a loving hand you can soon be repot

Sprout from the dirt with stronger stems

Rebirth yourself from fire come gems

Blooming is in season, garden will grow

And so will you as a sunflowers glow.