Reading
American Gods by Neil Gaiman. Other random books people give me but idk.
watching
Outlander, Parks and Recreation, other things??
playing
The Walking Dead Game, forever playing The Last of Us and Uncharted
slaying
currently slaying you bc you're looking at my updates ah yea boi
saying
caitlin; 24; los angeles; writer
+

In fact, the only things in the flat Crowley devoted any personal attention to were the houseplants. They were huge, and green, and glorious, with shiny, healthy, lustrous leaves.

This was because, once a week, Crowley went around the flat with a green plastic plant mister spraying the leaves, and talking to the plants….

Although talking is perhaps the wrong word for what Crowley did.

What he did was put the fear of God into them.

More precisely, the fear of Crowley.

In addition to which, every couple of months Crowley would pick out a plant that was growing too slowly, or succumbing to leaf-wilt, or browning, or just didn’t look quite as good as the others, and he would carry it around to all the plants. “Say goodbye to your friend,” he’d say to them. “He just couldn’t cut it…”

Then he would leave the flat with the offending plant, and return an hour or so later with a large empty flower pot, which he would leave somewhere conspicuously around the flat.

The plants were the most luxurious, verdant, and beautiful in London. Also the most terrified.

—Good Omens
I’m gonna write tonight!! —Me fucking lying to myself (via biological-splicer)

The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde

He got my dick message! —Peter Quill
Description begins in the writer’s imagination, but should finish in the reader’s. —Stephen King (via promptly-written)