It's been a long day for Sam and Five </3

Every morning at 5 AM 

(Source)

I used to believe that bugs were little robots. Lots of people do, it’s the prevailing opinion next to “i’ve never thought about it”. Then I watched a mother wasp mourn her child. An animal who stretched after a nap and did little dances when her daughters returned from flight. Now she is opening her fourth capped hexagon and finding a pale white stillborn. She grasps the baby gently in her jaws and does not put it down for over 24 hours. Carries her loss, pacing back and forth the length of her enclosure. It is not the behavior of a robot.

So I think about the prior odds. Scenario A, bugs are robots. Why do I believe that? Because they are so tiny. Because if they are not robots then my world [where “insect exterminator” is a job title and I can buy a can of mass death at home depot] does not make sense. They must be insignificant.

The wasp makes me reconsider. Scenario B: her kind are like mine. cry when we are sad and happy when we play. Has this feature evolved many times? Or is it common to all the children of the precambrian worm? Every shark in the ocean swimming in their own feelings. Every bird and every cat knowing the thrill of being alive? The wasp made me realize that my whole moral picture is wrong. We’re not alone on this planet,

The loneliness of the early mornings is the calmest feeling there is

𝐼𝓉’𝓈 5 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔

It’s 5am

-Lines-

A Guren & Shinya 2 page comic <3

Perpendicular Lines touch but once, and then they Never meet again.

But in another Life, I would always choose to See you once again.

I think about the "Study in Ichor" AU Sam and Five a lot more than I probably should. I have enough headcanons to write a novel... >.<’‘‘

I crack myself up

it is crucial to bear in mind always that there are over 8 billion people on this planet right now and only an itty bitty sliver of a percentage of them will have thought processes/perspectives/experiences/reactions/worldviews/schemata that you can understand/ find relatable on any meaningful level. to believe that your experience of/responses to a certain stimulus can be applied to another person - particularly a stranger - is utter fantasy. an arrogant one, and ultimately a lonely one. they are barely even perceiving the same universe you are! their genes and receptors and neural pathways are all one of a kind and completely different from yours. you have never had the exact same experience as anyone else because you have never been anyone else. I would love to see a world in which understanding this and really, truly letting it sink in and become a core part of how we see and interact with other human beings is the norm. I think it would be unrecognizable from this world. how much might we understand each other if we were able to have every conversation without assumption, projection, or expectation?

He is sleeping peacefully after breaking my heart and here I am rotting in bed with panic attacks.

In that one S4 Mission

Sam: Why do you have an annoying reporter with you?

Five, with Ian’s rat ass: Maxine and I found him in a dumpster lol.

Ian: *starts to speak*

Sam: Ew put him back.

“There’s nothing prettier than a city at 5am with its empty streets , cold winds and sound of fajr adhan.

Sam freezes in his spot when he feels the gentle, cautious hand settle on his chest. Five’s palm is just over his shirt and he could feel the warmth emanating from their hand, a crescendo of his own heart thumping in his ears. The runner looked as if they had a lot in their mind, even glancing up at Sam and giving him a window into the darkest depths of their entire being, silently daring him to keep going on this route just so they could keep him around.

“…Five?” He mutters slowly, his cheeks turning into a shade of red from the sudden contact. It was indirect, sure, but Five never reached out to touch him before. Hell, they haven’t willingly reached out for anybody. He can’t help but feel curious and troubled about the look on their face, about how it seemed as if they badly wanted to speak…

Every beat of the flesh under their palm turns into a pattern of music into Five’s mind. It feels like a song, except it’s the only type that would soothe their nightmares.

One day i’ll finish the drawings for Heartbeat and upload the finished chapters on ao3 but today we get this old drawing I never posted with the accompanying text i made for it (also never posted)

that thick fog vibe 😮‍💨