Chronic lurker who has been lurking in various fandoms 15+ years. Frequent purveyor of watsonian bullshit. I write fic (slowly), am too analytical for my own good, and am easily distracted by amphibians.
Crazy how we are everything that has happened to us but then you meet someone and you don’t see everything that has happened to them you just see them. And you both try to explain everything that has happened to you but your words and memories are so biased and oversimplified.
one of the most baffling parts of adhd is the food thing. you know the thing i’m talking about. like it is 8:30pm on a friday night, i had to work late and i know i really need to eat dinner but i don’t actively feel my hunger right now and i can’t think of anything i would enjoy consuming or that i have the energy to prepare but i’m also fully aware i’m gonna feel like shit if i don’t eat dinner
i love male characters who are extremely stuck-up and “inside the box” [like, proper, way too formal, cold, almost boring] from an outside perspective but their brain is actually an assembly of the weirdest shit you could possibly find
i can’t stop thinking about how often sergio and raquel end up tying each other up in canon. they really didn’t have to do it like this but they sure did it anyway.
me, actively not writing: wow this fic is gonna be so good
one way trips - by meanderingsoul (ao3) - a Palawan fic because a new step-parent is hard for everyone
Paula wasn’t out of sight yet and seemed to have stopped running. He wouldn’t need to run to catch up with her. It would be a long time before she could outpace him, even though he suspected she would eventually be taller than Raquel. He was much more likely to be of use fetching the girl back to the house safely than he would be at calming Marivi or at participating in whatever argument had clearly come up.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been the only one accompanying her while exploring the beach either. That had been weeks ago now. It didn’t seem to be something Raquel had any reservations about.
Paula said nothing when he drew up next to her, slowed to her pace. She’d moved on from sprinting to stomping before her current trudge. It was probably fine if they just walked in silence for a bit, right?
ciao, ciao, ciao - by meanderingsoul (ao3) - a fic set at the Toledo house pre series 1
Some nights the shaking made his injections too fucking difficult to manage. If there was any decency in the world it would realize how counterproductive this was and limit the shaking to better times of day. There was little decency in the world.
As it was, he may have to give it up soon as a lost cause tonight, risk doing it in the morning. More of the others would be around in the morning though, whining for their turn and stumbling around in the hallway. And no one could see this.
Of course someone knocked right when he was trying to line up the needle again.
“Occupied,” he grumbled. Andrés wasn’t going to open the damn door for one knock.
“Open up Berlin.”
He may have used the code name, but that wasn’t the “Professor’s” voice. It was definitely his terse little brother speaking.
