look to the warming sun @sungrownarchive - Tumblr Blog

☼ • — E L L I O T

Elliot had never been so cold in her life. Nor had she meant to be anywhere near the Country Club, but life did have funny way of pulling her towards Topher in times of need. She’d been hauling herself to the desert, her bike roaring up freeway but as soon as she hit the sights of city limits the icy grip of Cheyenne seemed to want to pull her back. The road was nothing but a sheet of ice, one lean deeper than the next and she’d end up half Ricker and half guardrail, she could feel it; they’d be intertwined and she’d be frozen til’ some adventurous anyone found her melted in the spring. She just wanted to see Vegas, to bury herself in the hopefully still scorching sands of Nevada and feel warm again. Elliot had survived the last winter by finding a cozy spot with a cozy someone, but as with change there was good and there was bad in all of it. It seemed as though her whole world changed daily and in the bone-chilling trek back into Cheyenne she wondered if she’d ever be happy again. To really feel happy, to smile honestly and not with snake-like glee at the idea of outdoing someone, wrangling whatever she needed from them and leaving them high and dry and herself alone again. She must have been frozen right down to the core of her, her brain stuck in the same cold rhythm til she finally made it back to signs of life. Which other life would her natural compass find but Topher? Paul probably, but where there was a Topher, there was a Paul. Her bike barely made it inside and she was sure that she left herself somewhere on the highway, a body to be excavated in the future like an iced someone from the caves of Everest. “I don’t n-n-need anythin’” She wanted to hug him but she couldn’t, all she could do was attempt to focus on her lacking ability not to shake in front of him. Black hair was slicked with ice and her calm snowy skin was angry, every red and blue vein trying to find heat, trying to enliven the lanky moving stalagmite she had become.

☼ • — ❛ the thankful heart, ❜ it has been said, ❛ will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessing. ❜ and okay, if he’s being entirely honest, he doesn’t actually know who said it. ( he thinks maybe he saw the quote once on one of the many pages of a daily motivational calendar, or possibly that it might’ve been on a gaudy, glittering graphic he stumbled upon in the early days of facebook. myspace, even. he’s not sure, alright? he just knows that the point of it, the poignant positivity of it, that stuck with him. ) and if ever there were a thankful heart left in the world, then surely it beats beneath faded, tie-dyed cotton and hand-carved mala beads that don the chest of christopher haas, for the b l e s s i n g s he receives are countless and invaluable. they surprise him, find him even in the bleakest of moments when his heart is too heavy ( or his body too cold ) to search for them. and to find the familiar face of one elliot ricker in the frozen tundra just beyond the walls of the country club — a face he’s not seen in, what has it been, weeks? — oh, he could pray to each and every star on a cloudless cheyenne night and it still wouldn’t be enough to express his thanks, his gratitude to the universe for such a beautiful gift. he could’ve teared up at the sight of her alone — and he very well might’ve, were he not so concerned by the ice that clung to her dark locks, to the bluish stains that bloomed on stuttering lips. he runs to her at once, nearly slipping on the snow-slick floor as he scrambles to pull his friend into an embrace.

❝ yes, ❞ he murmurs into frigid skin as strong arms envelop her shivering silhouette, and for all that the word is s o f t, it is just as insistent. ❝ y’really do. you’re freezin’, el — it’s a wonder you’re not a ricker-sicle right now. how long have y’been out there? w h y were y’out there? ❞ topher leans away from the embrace long enough to meet her gaze and he shakes his head as if to dismiss the questions before she can even bother to answer; he pulls her in long enough to give her one last squeeze and press a kiss to her cheek ( the skin feels like i c e against his lips ) before deciding to make good on his offer, whether she needs it or not. ❝ y’know what? it doesn’t — none a’ that matters. not right now, anyway. c’mon, y’can tell me about it once you’ve changed into somethin’ dry, somethin’ warm. ❞ one arm comes to wrap around her, hand settling on fabric stiff with ice, and slowly, he begins to guide her down the hall and toward the makeshift room he’s set up for the next few months. ( the van had proven far too cold a dwelling for the winter weather of wyoming, and that was before it’d been all but buried beneath the blizzard. ) ❝ you’ll catch your death a’ cold if y’don’t, and i mean, i dunno if i can think of a less badass way for the fearless elliot ricker t’go. ❞ he flashes her a smirk then, something playful he hopes she might appreciate. ❝ not t’mention, i think it would jus’ break paul’s little heart an’ i’d hate t’have to be the one t’tell him. ❞

#☼ • — ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ sʟᴏᴡʟʏ ( ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ )#☼ • — ( ᴇʟʟɪᴏᴛ )#( first of all ?? i apologize for this Trash bc it's been a minute and apparently i am rusty af #but i would also like to take this opportunity to say #i missed the everloving fUCK out of elliot ricker and so did toph #that is all )

belongstocaptaindoyle

Evan Peters in The Pirates of Somalia (Part 2)

#☼ • — ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ɪɴ ʜɪs ʟɪᴘs; ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴏᴜʟ’s ʀᴇᴠɪᴠᴀʟ ( ᴠɪsᴀɢᴇ )#( rewatching this movie rn and realizing i really need to make some icons but ??#can we just talk about that second column third row pic bc i am fuckin dEAD fam like #that hair ?? that beard ?? that LoOK ?? rip me i am living 4 this #even if he does look like the geico caveman in that one pic at the bottom whOOPS #ok ok i'm done i swear i'm gonna work on replies now #i'm just so proud of my Son and his acting and also imagining topher with a beard now lol oops )#guns tw

☼ • — M A R N I E

three years is long; but marnie didn’t expect that it’d be enough to erase her memory of the road to home. it’s not entirely her fault — there’s more snow than road tonight, and even then, so much has changed in the sepia-toned city; much of the sleepy suburbs stood in a such a state of irretrievable disrepair that marnie could scarcely recognize them. her image of home is different from this; where marnie expects boring lines of near-identical brick houses with their well-manicured green lawns, she gets the sad picture of dilapidated buildings buried in blinding white snow. someone called this home too, once. it hurt to think about it.

some still stand, though. although the furious cold makes it difficult to believe that any life or hope remains, intuition draws her to the modest establishment just meters ahead, past the empty, rolling expanse of snow-covered fields.

the sight of a survivor is a relief. his warmth? even more so. his unselfish hospitality is enough to melt away the dour mood exhaustion had brought upon, and marnie almost smiles. ❝ well, you’re definitely not their security guard. ❞ it’s said with a slight scoff, her tone a strange mix of slight condescension and genuine amusement. ❝ do you always just let people in without inspection ? ❞ a grin cuts across her face, cheeky and flippant. ❝ i could be a serial killer, you know. ❞

☼ • — ❝ well, not a l w a y s, no. ❞ the answer is honest, if admittedly a bit sheepish; were freckled features not already stained a rosier shade from the biting weather, one might have noticed the faint blush that climbed up his neck to tinge his cheeks. and as hospitable — as wholly and unabashedly trusting — as the gardener might be, even he knows that the ❝ open door ❞ policy that he tries to encourage within the camp must have certain boundaries, certain limits for the safety of his campmates. his f a m i l y. anyone who approaches the camp in need of a warm meal or a safe place to rest their head, they’re all welcome, but more often than not, there’s someone from patrol waiting to inspect their belongings and ensure they’re unarmed before welcoming them into the building. a simple precaution. but it’s just that — well, how is he supposed to adhere to precautions when the weather outside is deadlier than just about anyone he could possibly let in? maybe the decision is made out of ignorance, maybe it’s rooted in the blind and unyielding faith in humanity he still manages to hold so dear. but to christopher haas, there is simply no doubt: it’s worth the risk. ❝ usually we’re a little more careful, but i like t’think that the circumstances kinda lend themselves to a few exceptions, y’know? ❞

a smile finds his lips then, nearly warm enough to melt the layer of ice that’s almost entirely encapsulated the camp. ( nearly, but not quite — if only. ) he tosses his hoodie over the back of a nearby chair and slips cold hands into the pockets of his pants, rocking back slightly on mismatched socked heels as his gaze finds the blonde’s once more. ❝ well, i don’t pretend t’know much about that — not b’sides what i used t’see on the investigation discovery channel, an’ that was years ago — ❞ and, more often than not, when he was stoned on the couch in the middle of the night and trying to find something to watch. ❝ — but if y’were hopin’ to cause harm to anyone but yourself, i can’t imagine you’d have much luck in this weather. ❞ a light shrug lifts broad shoulders and he flashes the young woman a playful smirk. ❝ so — did y’want a change a’ clothes, or are y’just gonna bludgeon me with a crowbar in your coat or somethin’ an’ take mine instead? fair warnin’ though, if y’choose the latter, you’re gonna miss out on some pretty delicious herbal tea. we grow our own blends in-house at the club. but it’s your call, a’ course. ❞

#☼ • — ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ sʟᴏᴡʟʏ ( ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ )#☼ • — ( ᴍᴀʀɴɪᴇ )#( he's such a fuckin dork tho i s2g i don't know what u see in him ricci )#( but i love u for it )#( and for a million other reasons but u already know that )#( and ??? i am so excited for these two to interact !! )

☼ • — ❝ please, ❞ he says as he tugs at the double doors at the west entrance of the cheyenne country club, the word coming a bit breathlessly as he struggles to close them against the howling wind and the snow — oh stars, there’s so much s n o w — just toppling in through parted cherry panes in spite of his best efforts. and for all that topher can appreciate their aesthetic — and he can, they’re gorgeous and they let in so much beautiful, natural light in the afternoon — this is the second winter and the second blizzard he’s experienced with this particular set of french doors and he can say with absolute certainty that they are the worst. ( they’ll be gone by spring, he’s already decided. he’d sooner build a pair to replace them than endure another year with these. ) the icy wind breaks for a fraction of a second and he stumbles back on the slick hardwood when the doors suddenly slam shut. that he actually manages to keep his footing on the icy floor instead of slipping and falling on his ass is a small miracle, and the several long seconds that follow before he turns around are just as much spent appreciating that blessing as they are trying to catch his breath. a grin pulls out the dimples in wind-bitten rose-stained cheeks as his gaze lands on the other snow-covered survivor. ❝ make yourself at home. i can get y’some dry clothes if you’d like, maybe a towel. ❞ he tugs a damp wool hoodie over his head and shakes the ice out of his curls. ❝ an’ there’s been a fire burnin’ in the lounge all day if y’wanna warm up. ❞

#hst.starter #( guess who's back from the dead fam ?? )#( new year new starter ayeee )#( i just ?? wanted something warm and sweet in spite of this blizzard oK )#( pls let this precious child dote on u bc he's trapped inside and he needs s o m e t h i n g )

palides-deactivated20130904

#☼ • — ʙʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ ɢᴀʀʟᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛs ᴏғ ᴍʏ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴ ( ᴀᴇsᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ )

muse preferences! bold your muses preferences & repost !

#☼ • — ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ʙᴏʏ; ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴏʏ ( ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ )#( this has been sitting in my drafts f o r e v e r )

speakviolence

[1/∞] gifsets of Evan Peters astral projecting

#☼ • — ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ɪɴ ʜɪs ʟɪᴘs; ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴏᴜʟ’s ʀᴇᴠɪᴠᴀʟ ( ᴠɪsᴀɢᴇ )#( reblogging for the caption )#( accurate af )#( also for the cute lil laugh-smile in top left bc ?? this boy is my weakness fam )

☼ • — A L I X

a w i d e grin flashed back to the older of the two as he voiced his opinion on the matter ; dark browns twinkled against moon beams gently washing over them as he listened intently and watched his opposite lean back into the telescope. ❛ right. ❜ he returned with a confident nod a beat after. boy, was it n i c e to be able to share his love of SPACE with another… especially one so optimistic and o p e n - m i n d e d. he couldn’t help but keep that smile on his face as he looked back down to his cup of tea — and, idly, the small brunette began tapping his fingers against the side of the cup in thought. after losing his family, alix didn’t think he’d EVER feel much at home again ; with a n y o n e… anywhere. that was until he met topher… in the very field they sat now ; a kind soul who seemed just as i n n o c e n t as he ( if not more so ). the cheyenne country club had become a HOME to him and he had the boy beside him to thank. ❛ thanks. ❜ oh, oops. oddly enough, it was a bit of an a c c i d e n t voicing that ALOUD… but alix didn’t regret it. quite frankly, it was overdue. ❛ …y’know, for offering me a place in the group. i don’t know where i’d be right now if you didn’t. ❜ he elaborated, sending the other carer another warm smile before looking back down to his tea… and then over to his duffle bag of ‘ alien hunting gear ’. swiftly, alix stood from his seat and moved to kneel down before it. a quick shuffle, f e e l around inside, and he looked up to topher excitedly. ❛ should i set up the lights now? ❜ he inquired, lifting his arm only to reveal one of the six signal lights he’d been l u c k y enough to snag from his old school before his hometown was overrun.

☼ • — the camp at the cheyenne country club is, admittedly, pretty small — both physically and in population. in spite of the acres of fertile land that surround the property and offer much in the way of natural resources ( the earth mother can be profoundly generous when treated with respect and compassion ) the indoor accommodations for the camp and its members are significantly less spacious. were their numbers greater, the gardener imagines most, if not all, of their rooms, would have to be shared by multiple occupants. and as much as he welcomes the thought — and he does, oh, he wants nothing more than for his home to become a home, a refuge, to so many more and for the tiny family at the country club to flourish, to g r o w — he often wonders if it will ever come to fruition, given how seldom survivors seem to stay. ( he'll forever be grateful for adalene; the dedicated patrol guard — and his close friend — has been a constant from the very birth of the camp from the ashes of a violent raid on the city, a familiar face among the many that come and go. ) but for what the club lacks in size, it makes up for in h e a r t. and organic produce. anyone is welcome to seek shelter within its walls, to find nourishment and peace. and truthfully, topher considers it a blessing that alix happened across the fields of the country club, and even more so that he’d decided to stay.

christopher haas does not claim to have any p r e t e r n a t u r a l abilities; the opening of his third eye did not bestow clairvoyance or precognition, and his interest in the subject didn’t quite facilitate skill. but for years, he’s practiced the art of reading and visualizing auras, and he remembers being struck by the purity of the pale glow that enveloped alix the night they met. to see a child who’d not only managed to survive in this world but still remain so wholly and truly g o o d in spite of it — it’s a gift he imagines he’ll cherish the rest of his life, a small promise from the universe that his optimism, his faith is not unfounded. good still exists. and alix, he’s so much more than simply good — he’s creative, intelligent, courageous. the potential he has as a member of the camp — of the community — it’s immeasurable. ❝ thanks for takin’ it, ❞ he says sincerely, returning the smile with one of his own. ❝ the camp is a better place for your presence, alix. i’m glad you’re here. ❞ he takes another sip of tea, dark eyes curiously following the younger male as he stands from his chair and reaches for his bag. grin growing, he tucks his mug away beneath his chair and rises himself, offering alix an enthusiastic nod. ❝ i think now’s the perfect time. you set ‘em up, an’ i’ll go grab the signs. ❞

the signs in question aren’t actually signs at all, but rather a pair of white, king-sized sheets that he and alix spent an entire afternoon meticulously painting with encouraging and informational messages for any extraterrestrials that happened to be near enough to find them. ( ❛ ALL LIFE WELCOME ❜ and ❛ UFO PARKING HERE ❜ among a handful of others, all painted in large, bold letters and decorated with various peaceful symbols and artistic renderings of alien spacecrafts. ) given that they’ve set up lookout at the center of an open field only a few yards away from his van, acquiring them only takes about a minute or two, and the gardener returns just as quickly with a folded heap of fabric and a number of tent stakes balanced in his arms. ❝ okay — where d’you think i should put them? ❞

#☼ • — ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ sʟᴏᴡʟʏ ( ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ )#☼ • — ( ᴀʟɪx )#( first of all im so sorry this took so long ?? i have literally no excuse )#( but also im sorry in advance if this makes no sense at all bc i was p drunk when i wrote it ??? which is also probs why its so damn long #( i just missed the Space Bois oK ?? i love these two so much it hurts )#tw alcohol #( but only in the tags ??? idk if that was necessary or not *shrugs* )#( anyway i love u )

🌹🌷🌺☘️🌿 FLOWERS 4 U FRIEND ... 🌺🌷🌱🎍🌾🌿 🎋 WE ALL LOVE U AND UR DOING A GREAT JOB 🌺🌾🎋🌺🌴🌸

☼ • — idk if it’s bc it’s two in the morning and i am sleep-deprived and feeling exceptionally emotional rn or bc i’ve been struggling quite a bit irl lately and v upset about how it’s affected my ability to be on here and spending time with y’all but ?? this is genuinely the sweetest message in the world and im not usually a sensitive person but i sincerely mean it when i say it actually made me cry ?? in the b e s t way possible. happy tears. so thank you. seriously, thank you so, so much. i love hellstate and all of you and all of your muses. and especially you, sweet anon, bc this means the world to me.

#☼ • — ғɪɴᴅ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴀɴᴛ ᴀ sᴇᴇᴅ; ɴᴏᴜʀɪsʜ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ғʀᴇᴇ ( ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ )#( who am i kidding im still crying )#( thank u )#( i love my hellstate fam more than anything idk what i would do without you all )#( no gif just feelings )#Anonymous

if you could be one piece of nature, what would it be and why?

☼ • — ❝ a redwood — sequoia sempervirens — because what a breathtaking example of the numerous miracles carefully an’ lovingly created by mother earth. it isn’t jus’ life in a singular form — it’s a single entity capable of actin’ as a facilitator an’ more importantly as a h o m e for all of life’s different forms, for all varieties a’ flora & fauna. did y’know that a single redwood tree can be home t’almost three hundred unique species of plant an’ animal an’ fungus? three hundred. how incredible is that? everything from the dyin’ foliage that falls t’the forest floor an’ enriches the soil to the towerin’ leaves that pull moisture straight outta the air for hydration, it’s all a part of a very complex system that creates an extraordinary an’ — an’ inimitable snapshot a’ the full spectrum of nature. ❞

#☼ • — ғɪɴᴅ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴀɴᴛ ᴀ sᴇᴇᴅ; ɴᴏᴜʀɪsʜ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ғʀᴇᴇ ( ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ )#( whats good fam ur fave Trash Panda is back to making random posts at weird hours in the middle of the night )#( i've missed y'all ??? )#( just been struggling w/ work )#( and also muse )#( to try and remedy that i am taking a stab at some anons that have been sitting in my inbox )#( ...for an inexcusable amount of time pls forgive )#( also trying a thing w/ icons but im still not 100% on it sO pls excuse while i figure my shit out )

☼ • — E L L I O T

It had been an evening of regalement. This and that and the in between, the important, the less important and the utterly benign. There was something about the loop of his locks or perhaps the joints that nestled themselves so comfortably between her lips that loosened her, words came fast and she didn’t stop them. It was one thing that she had something to say but the want to actually say them at all was purely due to the energy that Topher offered her. The sharing, however, was done, she’d named every time she’d nearly died since their last meeting, an AA meeting for Cheyenne’s infamous adrenaline addict. Her head lay in his lap, her body naturally moving closer and closer the more she smoked. Green eyes watched his chin and soft dimples and watched a thought circle her. “I know we all have to go sometime… I get it, I do. If you go before me, will you stay?” She doesn’t know what she means, her clouded mind only knows that she’d be lost without him. “I mean I don’t know what happens after, but I really do think you’re going find out that you’re the spirit of father earth or something. Think you could like haunt me, or well, what’s the opposite? Preferably the opposite. Guardian angel kinda stuff.”

( @sungrcwn )

☼ • — if he could, these were the kinds of moments that christopher haas would preserve; carefully plucked and pressed like the dried blossoms tucked within the pages of his diary, perfectly maintained memories he could touch, he could feel, as he looked back on them in fond reminiscence. instead, he simply seizes the opportunity to cherish them to their absolute fullest while they’re still within his grasp. elliot lounges in the warm, wrinkled nest of quilts and blankets that the gardener has assembled on the floor of one of the country club’s limited rooms. ( he’d much rather be in the familiar comfort of his van, his home, but the nights were growing chillier as fall finally relented to the icy grasp of winter and with little in the way of insulation, nights spent out in the fields often meant mornings where the cold seemed to l i n g e r in his joints and no number of hand-woven quilts and thick, wool hoodies could trap in enough warmth to stave off the ache in his bones. )

long fingers comb through short, dark locks as she rests her head against his thigh and puffs away at the third — fourth? — joint of the evening, the warm weight of a heavy indica thrumming through his veins and slowly pulling him further into the tangled heap of bedding. but her words give him pause, fingertips stilling in her hair as a glassy, reddened gaze drifts down to his lap. ❝ what are y’talkin’ about, el? i’m not goin’ anywhere, i promise, except maybe t’get a little more tea. ❞ a soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he stares down at her, and yeah, he k n o w s what she’s talking about, but he’s almost hesitant to breach the subject. ( he values his life for the gift that it is — a true blessing from the universe, and one he doesn’t intend to waste — but even so, he’d rather go first than to live in a world sans the delightful mischief of one elliot ricker. ) ❝ i’d miss ya too much. ❞

he can’t help the g i g g l e s that spill from her lips in spite of the more sentimental nature of her words, all at once amused and flattered and touched by her theory. ❝ i think it’d be a blessing jus’ t’be a part of the same lineage, ❞ he muses thoughtfully. ❝ gaea was a better mother t’me than i ever could’ve asked for. it’d be beautiful t’know i have the earth, her earth in my blood. ❞ tossing honeyed curls with a shake of his head as he pushes the idea away in favor of turning his attention to her question, his smile only grows as he considers it. ❝ assumin’ i’d find a way t’stay tethered to the physical world? i’d love nothin’ more. ❞

#☼ • — ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ sʟᴏᴡʟʏ ( ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ )#☼ • — ( ᴇʟʟɪᴏᴛ )#( im sorry this took so long ??? )#( i have no excuse )#( also idk what i'm doing w/ my tags or my format rn )#( and im trying out icons for the first time and i d k jess what im trying to say here is )#( this is a mess but i love u )#tw drugs

☼ • — J A V I E R

❝ Yoooo, it’s me, your favorite neighborhood salesman! ❞ Javier exclaimed, hands drumming flatly against the messenger bag resting against his hip as he approached the survivor, grin stretching across his lips. ❝ I got some primo shit this time, I promise! None of that bullshit soup cans and cigarettes, alright, I’m talkin’… well, let me see yours first and then I’ll tell ya’. ❞

☼ • — dark eyes light up at the bright and infectious enthusiasm that carry the man’s words across the room; of all the traders he’s encountered, whether belonging to the camps or simply trying to make it by on their own, javier is quite possibly his f a v o r i t e. there’s just something about his aura, his energy — there’s a certain liveliness to it, an undeniable vibrancy that radiates from somewhere in his core — that the gardener wholly adores. ( a grin like that is a rare sight anymore, after all, and christopher haas is a l w a y s happy to see it. ) he pushes himself up out of the armchair where he’s been dozing lounging, unfolding long legs and chuckling through a languid, almost cat-like stretch. ❝ well, y’couldn’t have come at a more perfect time, ❞ he says thoughtfully and reaches for the thick baja hoodie thrown over the back of his chair, pulling it over a mop of overgrown curls. ❝ i jus’ pulled up the straw an’ frost blankets about a week ago an’ finished preservin’ the last of the winter harvest. looks like the suites are gonna be gettin’ first pick. ❞ a grin finds his lips to match the trader’s and he nods toward the door. ❝ c’mon, y’wanna go take a look in the cellar? ❞

#☼ • — ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ sʟᴏᴡʟʏ ( ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ )#☼ • — ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ sʟᴏᴡʟʏ ( ᴊᴀᴠɪᴇʀ )#( this has been in my drafts for a minute but ?? i'm p sure i wrote this reply when i drafted it i d k )

skeletongarden

Everything in the universe is within you. Ask all from yourself.

Rumi (via universal-wanderer)

#☼ • — ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴀʙʏ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴡᴏᴏᴅsᴛᴏᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ( ᴍᴜsɪɴɢs )

beautifulhaus

#☼ • — ʙʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ ɢᴀʀʟᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛs ᴏғ ᴍʏ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴ ( ᴀᴇsᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ )

☼ • — A ( LONG OVERDUE ) TO-DO LIST.

& thread tracker bc ya girl is finally trying to get her shit together !! so, i’m like 87% sure this is a comprehensive list of everything i owe, but i could also be totally wrong bc my Trash Brain ™ is really good at forgetting ?? so hmu if we’ve got a thread going and you don’t see it on here !! also feel free to hmu if you’d like a starter or wanna plot or smth bc i have a long list of things to do but i’m also a Casual Masochist and i wanna write w/ all of you~

#☼ • — ( ᴏᴏᴄ )

If you could go back to the beginning before the outbreak, but you held onto the knowledge you have now- what would you do differently?

☼ • — ❝ spend more time learnin’ how to live a natural an’ sustainable lifestyle with the earth’s plentiful gifts an’ resources. ascribe more value to the little blessings that every day has to offer. harness the natural power of the sun an’ fresh air more often in growin’ my plants. strike up more conversations with strangers. start growin’ my own herbs and veggies. acknowledge all the small luxuries and conveniences i used t’take for granted. call every single person i know and let them know honestly and sincerely how much i love an’ appreciate them. ❞

#☼ • — ғɪɴᴅ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴀɴᴛ ᴀ sᴇᴇᴅ; ɴᴏᴜʀɪsʜ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ғʀᴇᴇ ( ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ )

dream job if the apocalypse didn’t happen?

☼ • — ❝ the one i had t’leave behind, if i’m bein’ perfectly honest with you. workin’ with releaf, i don’t think i ever loved another job more. it didn’t — i don’t even like t’call it a job because it never felt like one. they were the first dispensary t’give me a shot after i moved out west, an’ i still thank my lucky stars that they were willin’ to take that leap of faith for me. i was eighteen an’ homeless, livin’ in the same car i drove out there in. i didn’t have any formal education when it came t’agriculture or growin’ cannabis, i didn’t even have a high school diploma. all i had were a couple a’ pictures on my phone of the grow set up i’d built back home, an’ flowers from a few a’ the best plants i had before leavin’ maryland. but they gave me a job, an’ after a few years of trimmin’ and waterin’ and soaking up jus’ about all the knowledge i could from everyone i met in the field, i was able to transform about fifteen thousand square feet a’ vacant warehouse space into a carefully designed an’ fully climate controlled grow house for them, home to so many gorgeous, towerin’ plants with so much potential. at our peak, we were yieldin’ well over a hundred pounds of quality medicinal cannabis over dozens a’ classic and custom strains. an’ that was every month. oh, i jus’ — if only you could have seen it, i’m not sure anything i could say t’describe it would do it justice. so much green. i miss it more than anything. ❞

#☼ • — ғɪɴᴅ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴀɴᴛ ᴀ sᴇᴇᴅ; ɴᴏᴜʀɪsʜ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ғʀᴇᴇ ( ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ )#drugs tw #( this got long but ??? my boy could talk for hours about the dispensary oK )#( and the grow house oml that was his b a b y )

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