no thoughts, head empty

My absolute favourite way to characterise Sambastian is as an unstoppable-force-meets-immovable object kind of dynamic. Sebastian who refuses to be loved meets Sam who loves him at all costs. Sebastian with his walls up so high meets Sam who never stops knocking. I just love Sebastian being so closed off, turned away from the outside world, buried so deep in his own self-loathing that being around someone for too long feels like imposing himself on them; and then there's Sam who's so open, who lives so freely and loves so easily, who couldn't care less about Sebastian being awkward or weird or whatever else he believes about himself because he just wants him around in any capacity. Sebastian who declines 10 hangouts in a row because he needs time alone to recharge, and Sam who keeps asking anyway, because to him, Sebastian is worth the wait. Sebastian who assumes the only way out of hell is a highway, and Sam who offers him a little pocket of refuge off the dirt road he's still stuck on. Sam who's both high-energy and low-pressure, who can just talk and talk and talk and doesn't expect anything in return, because he doesn't need Sebastian to be perfect or sociable, he just wants him to be there, and Sebastian listens and listens and listens because sometimes just being there is the only thing he knows how to do.

“You call us livestock, but you don’t treat us like livestock. You don’t make sure each of us has been fed, you don’t protect us from predators in the night, you don’t help deliver our young or tend to our ills. You’re not a farmer, you’re a parasite, and we will deal with you accordingly.”

It's been a really rough week. But unless something truly horrific happens (again lol) chapter 4 will be out this month as well as more stuff for the Werewolf au

Lmao. Lol even. Nvm shit keeps happening whatever

wow i haven't written anything in my wip today how strange <- guy who has been scrolling tumblr and pinterest for hours

the author’s thinly veiled nothing #notwriting #straightupnotwritingit

There is no drug on earth that can replicate the absolute euphoria of hitting a writing flow state at 2:00 AM. You aren’t even typing anymore. You are a vessel. You are a channel for the gods. The characters are speaking directly into your brain and you’re just the stenographer trying to keep up. You feel like you could fight a bear. You feel like you invented the alphabet