#oc: gâteau | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mrsbsmooth · 2 years ago

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Looking for my chaptered fics? Click here Want to sort by character? Click here

Places we won't be found - Lucas / OC - Lucas is in the witness protection program, Lauren's masquerading as his wife while she guards him. They hate each others' guts, and Lucas's attitude isn't helping. (10k+)

Where everything stands still - Ciaran / OC - Ruby's the Prime Minister's daughter and she's just been assigned a new security detail. As furious as she is, she can't help the butterflies that happen whenever a certain Sergeant's on duty. (7.5k)

All I Want for Christmas is You - Tom / OC - Royal AU, Enemies to Lovers, Second chance love. (23k+)

Deck the Halls (with scowls of Holly) - Lucas / OC - Coworkers Lucas and Holly have to plan the Christmas Party together. They have very different opinions on the way it should be done. (5.7k+)

Employee of the Month - Gary / OC - Gary has a new Boss, and she's not what he expected. (5k+)

Yesterday - Tim / OC - Famous rapper/DJ Big T got everything he ever wanted. Record deal, supermodels, a huge group of friends. He's happy - really - he swears he is. (5.5k+)

A Sign. Any Sign - Bruno / MC - Bruno likes Lana, but she only sees him as a friend... he thinks. Cue the heartrate challenge, where she's going to show him exactly how she feels. (1k+)

Bruno and Miri Make a Porno - Bruno / OC - Best friends Bruno and Miri are about to have their electricity shut off. They need cash, and fast. So when Youcef approaches them with a solution... they aren't in a position to turn it down. (6.8k+)

The Alps - Lucas / Henrik - Lucas and Henrik cross paths in the alps (5k+)

Christmas Timing - Henrik / MC - Leah's liked Henrik for ages, but even in the villa, the timing was never right. When will the timing be right!?! (3k)

Delicate - Angie / OC - Paramedic Catalina wants to set Angie up with Talia. But seeing them together is making her feel... weird. (3.6k+)

De-finn-itely - Finn / MC - A rewrite of the 'note' scene from Season 9 (All Stars) leading to 'being with' Finn to make things make more sense (5.2k)

Her Cupid's Bow - Gary / OC - Gary and Mads have been best friends since they were 11. Now they're stuck up a tree, and it's getting really cold. Oops. (4.7k+)

Let's go - Angie / MC - Angie thinks she and Siobhan are just friends. But it's the heartrate challenge, and Shiv's not dancing for the boys. (1k+)

Ruin Our Friendship- Chelsea / MC - Chelsea's got a crush, and it's not on Elijah (1.8k+)

See you soon - Tim / MC - Tim and Mia have to decide which one of them will leave the island for good. It sure is lucky they're just friends, and there are no feelings involved. (1.5k)

Whistle For the Choir - Seb / MC - The boat party rewrite where Seb gets what he wanted all along. (10k+)

Beauty Lies in the Eye - Seb & Nicky - Seb and Nicky fall for the same girl. (2k+)

The Boys go on a trip - Lucas / Noah, Gary / Bobby / Rocco / Tai / Henrik - Lucas, Noah & others go camping, and take drugs for a new experience. Wow, does this get gay fast. (5.5k+)

Dylan's Redemption - General- After Love Island, Dylan's reputation is shot. His family's being targeted, and he needs to clean up his image. Luckily, an anonymous helper has a solution - Love (and Respect) Island University. (5.5k+)

Hook, Line, and Sinker - Graham / Marisol - Scheming Graham's perspective of Casa Amor (2.5k+)

Part of Your World - General - Seb gets trapped in the Disneyverse (5k+)

Touch nothing but the lamp - Bobby / Lottie - Bobby & Lottie swap bodies and shit gets real weird. There's magic involved. Oh boy. (5k+)

Black Forest Gâteau - Jake / MC - Ali shows up at Jake's restaurant after Love Island. He's devastated because he told her he loved her and she turned him down. She did turn him down... right? (2.8k+)

Four Seconds - Bobby / OC - Lucas is Bree's soulmate, or is he? (2.3k+)

Hearts Awakened, Live Alive - Lucas/OC - K-Pop Idol Lucas gets swarmed by fans and needs help. (6.3k+)

I could see this view a hundred times - Tim / MC - Tim's been hiding something from Catarina (5.4k+)

If you like Piña Coladas - Graham / OC - Graham's feeling stuck in a rut. Meets a girl online that makes him feel alive again. Only problem is, he's already got a girl at home. (3k+)

if you want one of us - Lewie / MC - Mistaken identity - it was an accident - God, what will Ally say? (6.7k+)

The Man from the Jungle - Henrik / OC - Henrik is Tarzan, with a twist. (2.5k+)

Sex on the Beach - Bruno / OC - Bruno drinks in 'Never Have I Ever'. Here's that story. (2.5k+)

Shut Up - Hamish / MC - Sadie and Hamish had a 'something' before she left for Casa Amor. So when she comes back hand in hand with his best friend… (2.8k+)

Villa full of snakes - Hamish / MC - The fallout of Hamish giving MC the necklace if she's also on a Marshall route. (>1k)

*Note: Mostly angst. Always a happy ending.

Chanel Paris-Biarritz - Youcef / MC - Chloe reminds him too much of his ex. He already knows it'll hurt. But loving her from afar is worse. (2k+)

He had to know - Lucas / OC - Lucas knocks a girl up and walks away. But something keeps pulling him back. (3.2k+)

This Time I’m Serious(ly Angsty) - Bruno / MC - The original Chapters of TTIS (14k+)

But not quite - Jake / OC - Jake is her best friend's brother. Mandy's been gone for nine years, though. Surely she's over her crush by now. (5.1k+)

Carry On- Roberto / MC - Pilot Roberto fake dating at the airport (5.4k+)

Every minute - Lewie / MC - how Lewie really would've reacted if Siobhan showed up at the stick or twist ceremony (1k+)

For a Minute - Oliver / MC - Oliver sticks up for Ellie after Dylangate. (2.5k+)

Oh, Paw-lease - Andy / OC - Cass is having a day, and the fact that the hot vet gets to witness every bit of it? Great. Just great. (4.9k+)

Shoot Your Shot - Lewie / MC - He sees her in the crowd, she makes quite the impression. Will he ever find her? (4.2k+)

The colour that you are - Rocco / OC - His aura is a mess. Luckily, Freya can see that. (3.1k+)

Three in the morning - Bobby / OC - Pretty nurse meets cute catering guy. He's determined to win her over. Damn. She kind of wants to let him. (3.5k)

Cabernet Sauvignon - Jake / Talia / MC - Jake comes for a visit. Talia and Zoe decide he needs a new experience. It backfires. (4.3k)

Customer Service - Marshall / MC - Marshall's dream car pulls into the garage. His dream girl is in it. (6.4k+)

Dasvid Anya- Finn / MC - Finn's exhibitionist kink that Anya's only too happy to indulge. (1.5k+)

Electromagnetic - Carl / OC - Carl's a Star Trek captain, and likes to experiment with the holodeck. (3k+)

Everything else is enthusiasm - Tom / MC - Tom's a little nervous about his first time with Felicity... but it turns out, he's got no reason to be. (2.1k+)

Filthy - Andy/Hamish/Marshall / MC - Alexis hasn’t found what she’s looking for in the villa. Maybe Casa will be… more her speed. (8.8k+)

Finn-ish- Finn / MC - Keira gets the shower scene we all deserved (2.4k)

FINNOCENT - Finn / MC - Finn sticks up for Erin after Alfie cheats on her. Then, it's time for sexy, sexy revenge. (3k+)

Follow your instincts - Tai / OC - Rugby coach Tai is having a crisis of confidence. He needs to do things his way. Luckily, one of the referees is happy to reassure him - he's got good instincts. (3.1k)

The French Connection - Bruno / MC - Bruno's got a French lingerie model for a roommate and it goes exactly as you'd expect. (10.5k+)

He was sure - Oliver / MC - Oliver doesn't rush into making things physical. But when he's ready, he's... ready. (2.5k+)

IGFBSGITMPAAIGWTFWAM - Finn / MC - Saoirse's got a front row spot and she'll do anything to keep it. (1.5k+)

if I get burned, at least we were electrified - Alfie / MC - Alfie's done with walking on eggshells. He wants her, and he's going to have her. (3k+)

I just wanna love you, baby - Alex/MC Every time they'd had the opportunity to 'do bits', Alex had… done the honours. Well, now, it was his turn. (4.7k+)

Jets- Roberto / MC - Sexy pilot has an interesting idea in the hot tub (3.2k+)

Lady Grifferley's Lover - Noah / OC - Noah & Bronte are audiobook narrators. The book gets spicy. (6.8k+)

Let me be your woman - Ozzy / OC - Ozzy's celebrity fling in the dance studio (5k+)

Measure Twice, Cut Once - Alex / OC - Alex moves slowly. He's waiting for the right girl. But what happens when he finds her? (8k+)

Men of Particular Interests - Noah / Bobby / Lucas - Noah & Lucas meet Bobby in a BDSM bar. They've finally met their match. (3k+)

Mrs Robinson - Felix / Dylan's Mum - It's his lucky day. (4.5k+)

Repetition. - Jake / OC - Professor Wilson is trying to grade papers, but Adriana's got something else in mind (1.7k+)

Tom's Game - Tom / Priya - Nasty, privileged fuckboy Tom meets his match in the villa. (3.5k+)

#masterlist #navigation #Oneshots #mbs #mrsbsmooth #litg ff #litg fanfic #litg fanfiction

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omagazineparis · 8 months ago

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3 bonnes raisons de regarder la série Irresponsable

La saison 3 d'Irresponsable est disponible sur OCS depuis le 5 décembre 2019. Pour celles est ceux qui n'auraient pas encore franchi le pas, voici 3 bonnes raisons pour binge-watcher la saison 1 (et 2). (Et 3 aussi). Série française lancée en 2016, Irresponsable tire sa révérence avec cette troisième et dernière saison. Drôle, intelligente, impertinente, voilà ce qui caractérise le mieux cette petite pépite écrite par Frédéric Rosset et réalisée par Stephen Cafiero. Le pitch est simple : Julien (interprété par Sébastien Chassagne), 31 ans sans emploi ni grandes ambitions, retourne vivre chez sa mère après avoir éclusé tous ses potes dont le canapé est disponible. Sous l'impulsion maternelle, il décroche péniblement un boulot de pion au collège où il était élève et y retrouve Marie, son amour de jeunesse. Mais pourquoi regarder ? Parce que c'est bien pardi ! Parce qu'Irresponsable est jubilatoire Julien enchaine les galères. Adolescent paresseux et de mauvaise foi, il rate tout avec un tel panache que l'on ne peut que s'attacher et rire. De retour au nid familial, il retrouve sa chambre d'ado avec une aisance amusante. Quant à sa mère, elle téléphone tous les jours à Jean-Pierre, son psy. Et dès la moindre contrariété, elle récite religieusement les mantras appris en thérapie. Au final, Julien est moyen en tout. Le look, l'intelligence, l'honnêteté. Dans l'idéal, il n'aimerait pas travailler, mais c'est difficilement possible, alors il essaye de faire le minimum tolérable et cultive son penchant pour les pétards et la fête. Parce qu'Irresponsable déculpabilise Je ne sais pas vous, mais moi, entre l'injonction à être séduisante, la carrière épanouissante, le groupe d'amies aussi classe que dans Sex in the City, le sport parfois une activité physique des escaliers à monter, les livres "intelligents" à lire, LA recette de gâteau sans sucre/lactose/gluten/oeuf/gras ET avec un goût acceptable gourmande, des fois, juste des petites fois, on finit la journée en PLS derrière le canapé. Heureusement, il y a des séries comme Irresponsable où loin de dépeindre les astéroïdes de la vie (ces gens parfaits qui filent de succès en succès sans le moindre frisotis) on y croise la route de personnages à côté de la plaque. Julien, avec sa vingtaine passée trop vite, ne se sent pas adulte, et ça, ça fait du bien à voir. #3 Parce qu'on peut se la raconter (un peu) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2OZrgxFanBU Irresponsable, saison 1 Intelligente, moderne, pas (encore) très connue, on peut recommander Irresponsable tant à Ginette de la compta qu'à Jean-Eudes, toujours à citer Bergman cinéphile aguerri. À priori les deux aimerons. Et ça, l'air de rien ça en jette. Sinon plus pratico-pratique, cette série gère avec brio le drame et la comédie, surfe sur nos émotions et nous invite à réfléchir le passage à l'âge adulte, la trentaine et surtout cette grande question que l'on pose toutes et tous au moins une fois "qu'est-ce que je vais faire de ma vie ?" Vous l'aurez compris, cette série c'est que du love, du feel-good, de la tolérance pour tous les trentenaires un peu en rade sur le chemin de la vie qui se demandent bien où ça a déraillé. Et pour tous les autres aussi. À voir avec qui ? Sa grand-mère, son petit-frère, son copain, sa BFF. On aime tout le monde. Irresponsable, disponible en intégralité sur OCS, 3 saisons. Read the full article

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80roxy08 · 2 months ago

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Pour le 3ème jour, un petit début d'histoire avec mes OCs : "Le châtelain" (1381 mots)

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“Dans trois cent mètres. Tournez. A droite,” la petite voix robotique du GPS annonce.

“Si tu veux,” marmonne Emilie, les yeux fixés sur la route.

“J’espère que ce truc ne va pas nous emmener dans un trou paumé,” grommelle Christopher, en jetant un regard courroucé à son téléphone lorsque la voix féminine répète de tourner à droite.

“La région entière est un putain de trou paumé,” rappelle Emilie, en réprimant une grimace lorsqu’un énième nid-de-poule sur la route de campagne fait tressauter la camionnette.

Heureusement qu’ils ne transportent que des viennoiseries, et pas une pièce montée ou un autre gâteau fragile. Les amortisseurs de la vieille camionnette de livraison de la boulangerie n’ont que peu d’effet lorsque les trous dans le bitume ont des airs de cratères. Et depuis qu’ils ont quitté la départementale pour rouler sur les petites routes annexes, l’état du goudron n’a cessé de se dégrader.

“Continuez. Sur. Huit cent mètres” annonce la voix toujours guillerette du GPS.

“Je suis sûr que ce truc est tout aussi perdu que nous. Y’a pas de château, là !” Christopher peste en secouant son téléphone, comme si cela pouvait suffire à faire changer d’avis l’application.

“Enfin, on peut pas rater un château comme ça, quand même… Doit bien y avoir un panneau indicatif pas loin…” Emilie répond tout en faisant un écart pour éviter encore une ornière. Certains de ces trous doivent devenir de véritables mares aux canards lorsqu’il pleut.

“Moi je dis qu’on va se retrouver projeté au Moyen-Age en passant dans un portail temporel entre deux bouses de vaches.”

“Des vaches en pleine forêt ?”

“J’ai une gueule d’agriculteur peut-être ?” rouspète Chris en agitant toujours son téléphone comme une boule à neige.

“Continuez tout droit. Sur. Deux cent mètres.”

“Bon, on avance jusqu’au bout de cette route, et si on est toujours paumé, on repart jusqu’au village le plus proche et on demande des indications aux passants,” concède Emilie. Elle n’est guère plus rassurée que son ami ; les arbres sur le rebord de la chaussée penchent fortement vers le centre de la route, leurs feuilles rendant la visibilité quasi nulle au- delà d’une dizaine de mètres. La route étant à peine assez large pour le passage d’un seul véhicule, si une voiture arrivait en face, elle aurait très peu de temps pour réagir et éviter la collision.

La camionnette avance au pas sur la dernière centaine de mètres… et une fois la rangée d’arbres dépassée, le château apparaît finalement.

“Vous. Êtes. Arrivés,” le GPS annonce joyeusement.

Christopher remet son téléphone en mode silencieux et l’enfourne dans son sac avec un juron.

Malgré tout, Emilie est contente qu’il l'ait accompagnée sur cette livraison. Seule au volant sur ces petites routes qui se ressemblent toutes, elle aurait certainement fini par se perdre et stresser encore plus. Peut-être aurait-elle réussi à apercevoir le château au loin, au détour d’un virage, pour s’orienter - il est vrai qu’il est difficile de le rater une fois qu’on l’a repéré.

Trônant au milieu d’un vaste terrain dégagé, le bâtiment doit dater du dix-septième ou dix-huitième siècle - Emilie n’est pas assez familière avec l’architecture pour le déterminer. Ce n’est pas une bâtisse moyenâgeuse, en tout cas, n’en déplaise à son covoitureur. Les murs de pierre taillée sont percés de larges fenêtres dont les encorbellements sont décorés de sculptures telle de la dentelle minérale, le toit d’ardoise présente un faîtage décoré de motifs délicats - peut-être des fleurs de lys - et une girouette dorée surplombe l’unique tour du bâtiment.

“Je ne me souvenais pas que c’était aussi propre,” remarque-t-elle, en repensant à ses souvenirs (assez flou, il est vrai) du voyage scolaire qui lui avait fait découvrir ce château pour la première fois.

“Ouais, ma mère m’a dit qu’il y a eu un changement de proprio il y a quelques années. Apparemment ils ont fait de sacrées rénovations dans le machin. Tiens, y’a une entrée là-bas. Regarde pour te garer près des annexes.” Chris répond, en pointant du doigt une ouverture dans le petit muret de pierre qui délimite le domaine, doublé d’une haie bien entretenue et de quelques arbres.

Emilie obéit, dirigeant la camionnette vers l’allée de gravillons - ironiquement, cette dernière est plus agréable pour les pneus que le bitume défraîchi de la route proprement dite. L’allée remonte jusqu’à un ensemble de bâtiments bas plus récents, les fameuses annexes. Probablement d’anciennes écuries ou des hangars à carrosse reconvertis en lieu de vie pour les gens qui travaillent sur le domaine - les volets roulants électriques sur les fenêtres, et l'antenne satellite sur un des toits le laisse penser, en tout cas.

La jeune femme gare le véhicule parallèlement à ce qui semble être une boutique de souvenir, coupe le contact et descends du véhicule.

“Alors maintenant… À qui je livre ça, moi…”

“Eh, c’est pas quelqu’un là-bas ?” Chris remarque, une main en visière au-dessus de ses yeux, l’autre pointant vers un parterre de fleurs.

Emilie l’imite, et distingue en effet une silhouette penchée sur les rosiers, mais qui les as aperçus et se rapproche. Au début, à cause du chapeau de paille à large bords, et du pantalon blanc presque flottant, elle pense qu’il s’agit d’une femme, mais quand l’individu s’est suffisamment rapproché, elle se rend compte que c’est un homme.

Un homme très grand.

“Euh… B-bonjour, c’est la boulangerie de - euh, je veux dire, c’est pour les viennoiseries commandées…” balbutie-t-elle devant l’inconnu. Ce n’est pas souvent qu’elle croise quelqu’un d’assez grand pour lui faire se dévisser le cou quand elle discute avec, mais l’homme en question fait presque une tête de plus qu’elle - et Emilie n’est pas exactement de petite taille.

Abstraitement, elle se dit que Chris risque de se faire un torticolis s’il continue de dévisager ainsi l’inconnu.

“Ah oui, pour la commande. Vous devez être Emilie, la fille de Paul et Sarah ? J’ai entendu parler de vous, enchanté de vous rencontrer. Ah, mais où sont mes manières ? Je me présente, Louis Bourbon, le châtelain,” sourit l’homme - Louis, donc - tout en lui tendant la main après avoir fourré ses gants de jardinage dans la poche de son tablier beige parsemé de tâches de terre. Les genoux de sont pantalon blanc sont aussi maculé de terre, mais cela n’enlève rien à sa prestance.

Habillé en redingote et haut-de-forme, il ne détonnerait pas sur une carte postale “vintage” en noir et blanc de son château.

“M-moi de même… Euh, en…en bien, j’espère,” Emilie marmonne en lui serrant la main - elle avait demandé à ses parents de ne pas ébruiter les raisons de son retour au pays, et ils avaient acquiescé, mais entre ce qu’ils disent, et ce qu’ils font vraiment…

“Mais bien sûr, ils ne tarissent pas d’éloges à votre sujet. Et vous ? Ah, laissez-moi deviner, vous devez être le fils de Fabiola. On vous a déjà dit que vous étiez le portrait craché de votre mère ?” le châtelain remarque en se tournant vers Chris.

“Un peu trop souvent, oui,” ce dernier répond avec une grimace en lui serrant la main. “Je m’appelle Christopher, au fait.”

“Eh bien, Emilie et Christopher, bienvenue dans mon château !” Louis annonce avec un grand sourire. “Je m’excuse de ne pas vous avoir accueilli mieux que cela, mais j’étais occupé au jardin - je suis particulièrement fier de mes rosiers, cette année. Mais dites-moi, vous êtes arrivés par là ?” demande-t-il en pointant du doigt l’ouverture dans le muret et la route défoncée derrière.

“On a eu un peu de mal à trouver, mais oui…”

“Ah, c’est l’appli Maps qui fait encore des siennes. Dire que j’ai fait rénover la route principale l’année dernière, et les GPS continuent d’envoyer les gens passer par l’ancien chemin des carrioles de ravitaillement du château… En repartant, passez par devant, c’est plus simple et rapide.”

Il indique une autre sortie, à l’opposée de celle par laquelle ils sont arrivées - et Emilie aperçoit une belle route propre, au goudron si noir qu’il semble presque neuf. Rien à voir avec le chemin de campagne qu’ils ont emprunté.

“Si on avait su…” marmonne Christopher.

“Pourtant j’avais demandé à la municipalité de remettre un panneau… Mais j’ai l’impression qu’ils m’ont encore oublié,” Louis soupire. “Bon, vous pouvez m’aider à décharger les viennoiseries, et tout mettre sur cette table-là ? J’ai un car de touristes qui arrive dans une demi-heure, et j’ai encore tellement de choses à finir !”

Writevember

Heya !

Ce mois-ci, j'ai décidé de tenter le Writevember - pas un roman entier, mais juste des bribes d'histoires, de fanfics, ou d'écriture diverse, pour me réhabituer à écrire en français (j'ai tellement l'habitude d'écrire en anglais...)

Mon objectif est d'environs 30k mots, soit 1000 mots/jour. J'ai bon espoir d'en faire plus, l'idéal étant que certains de ces textes courts puissent me servir de base pour réécrire une histoire ou deux plus tard. On verra ;)

Voilà déjà mon premier texte, pour les jours 1 et 2, qui est assez personnel, intitulé : "TDA" (2171 mots)

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Je crois que je souffre d’un trouble de l’attention.

“Je crois”, je dis. Comme s’il y avait réellement un doute.

J’en suis pratiquement certaine.

“Pratiquement”. Un auto-diagnostique, ça n’a pas de valeur légale, après tout.

Et c’est tant mieux, en un sens. Parfois, un diagnostic ferme plus de portes qu’il n’en n’ouvre.

Mais bref. Je crois que je souffre d’un trouble de l’attention.

Pas d’hyperactivité, non, c’est entre autre pour ça que c’est plus difficile à diagnostiquer - n’allez pas regarder les statistiques de sous-diagnostic de ce genre de trouble chez les filles. C’est un peu déprimant.

Et ne parlons pas non plus du fait qu’une grande partie des psys pensent toujours (à tort ou à raison ?) que les troubles de l’attention disparaissent d’eux-mêmes à l’adolescence, et qu’il est donc impossible qu’un adulte en souffre encore.

Je pense que c’est à tort. Un adulte est juste plus à même de compenser ces troubles de façon à ce que cela soit moins visible.

Après tout, un enfant ou ado a des profs ou des parents sur son dos, à surveiller ses devoirs, ses passe-temps, prêts à l’engueuler s’il ne fait pas les tâches ménagères qui lui ont été attribuées, etc…

Un adulte qui vit seul, qui va aller l’engueuler s’il n’a pas passé l’aspirateur depuis un mois ? Est-ce que c’est une expérience vécue ? A vous de deviner.

J’en étais où ? Ah oui. Les troubles de l’attention.

J’ai quand même fait quelques recherches. Trouvé le questionnaire officiel pour les adultes, je l'ai rempli - et oh surprise, mon ‘score’ correspond bien à quelqu’un souffrant de ce trouble.

Non pas que qui que ce soit aurait pu le deviner.

Non pas que ma sœur ait eu un diagnostic officiel, et que ce genre de pathologie est héréditaire - oui, papa, je sais que tu ignorais jusqu’à l'existence de ce truc récemment, mais crois-moi, je n’ai pas trop de mal à deviner d’où ça peut venir…

Non pas que j’ai une de mes meilleures amies qui a elle aussi eu un diagnostic officiel, et qui, quand elle s’était plainte de certains de ses symptômes et que j’avais répondu en rigolant, “Oh, ça doit être normal pourtant, ça m’arrive à moi aussi tout le temps !” m’avait regardé entre quatre yeux pour me dire de me pencher un peu sur la question, parce que non, justement, ce genre de chose n’est pas “normal”.

Mais bref. Un auto-diagnostic, vous savez, ça n’a pas de réelle valeur.

Enfin ça aide à mettre des mots sur la chose. Les problèmes. Le bordel dans la tête - et pas que.

Au boulot j’ai une collègue qui a un super petit agenda dans lequel elle note toutes les réunions à venir et les rapports à rendre - avec un code couleur, et des dates bien encadrées.

Moi je fonctionne au post-it.

Si le post-it est devant mon écran, c’est qu’il n’a pas encore été traité. Éventuellement, je mets du stabilo fluo dessus en plus si c’est urgent. Il faut que l’information soit bien devant mes yeux, sinon je zappe.

Enfin, ça fonctionne à peu près correctement. C’est moins classe, mais bon.

On fait ce qu’on peut.

Il faut développer des “techniques” pour réussir à vaincre les problèmes de concentration, l’incapacité à prévoir des rendez-vous, à suivre un planning à cause des incertitudes qui existent - et qui pourtant ne semblent pas gêner les autres.

Au moins, j’ai un mot à mettre sur ce que je qualifiait précédemment de “grosse flemme mdr”.

C’est pas juste ça.

C’est qu’il y a quelques trucs pas bien branchés là-haut. Des fils qui se croisent, et qui ont des conséquences sur des choses pourtant bénignes.

C’est dur, de retrouver un dentiste après avoir déménagé, quand ça fait dix mois qu’on se répète, “Oh, je l’appellerais plus tard, sûrement demain, je vais y penser !”. Et en fait non.

Donc je n’ai toujours pas de dentiste. Ou de médecin généraliste - mais bon, ça c’est aussi la faute aux déserts médicaux, et c’est un autre sujet.

En fait c’est ça qui aide un peu. Se dire que ce n’est pas entièrement de sa faute.

“Pourquoi les autres y arrivent, et pas moi ? Est-ce que je suis si nulle que ça ?” je me suis déjà demandée à de nombreuses reprises.

Oui, mais les “autres” en question, ils n’ont pas, je pense, un petit diable dans le crâne qui mets du bruit blanc et un screensaver Windows 95 en boucle dès qu’ils hésitent entre deux choses à faire. Et en général, ils se décident, eux. Ils ne restent pas bloqués puis doom-scroll les réseaux sociaux pendant trois heures, puis se sentent coupable de ne pas avoir été “productifs”.

On a tous autant d’heures dans une journée ; mais ce qui prend dix minutes à quelqu’un de “normal” m’en prendra deux heures tant que je n’aurais pas trouvé un stratagème pour débloquer mon cerveau quand il est dans cet état-là.

C’est ça qui est le plus frustrant.

Logiquement, je sais identifier les moments où je ne suis pas “productive” et où je bloque. Et je me répète, merde, vas-y, fait quelque chose, il suffit de dépasser ça et ça va rouler. Mais ce n’est pas la logique qui contrôle mes actions à cet instant précis, et à part me sentir mal ce genre de réflexion a assez peu d’impact.

On m’a parlé de coach de vie, mais franchement ? Je suis presque sûre que ça ne servirait qu’à me dégoûter encore plus de mon incapacité à me gérer comme une adulte responsable.

Pourtant j’en suis une. J’ai un taff, un salaire, je paye mon loyer, mes courses - j’oublie la salade dans le fond du bac du frigidaire, je retrouve un paquet de piles neuves dans le mauvais placard, je remercie les inventeurs du relevé de compte en ligne et du virement bancaire automatique chaque mois.

Je crois que je souffre de troubles de l’attention, et ça me pourrit un peu la vie par moment.

Mais tant que c’est gérable, eh bien, j’arrive à survivre dans notre société capitaliste moderne, et c’est tout ce qui compte, non ? Ma vie et mon organisation personnelle ne sont peut-être pas tout à fait au niveau des attentes de certains de mes pairs, mais j’ai compris il y a bien longtemps que si je devais me soucier de ce que pense les autres, je n’arriverais jamais à avancer sereinement.

Donc bon. Je m’améliore. Je me répète ça. Ça aide, parfois.

Et parfois non. Mais merde, hein. Le capitalisme et la productivité à 100% tout le temps, c’est déjà dur pour les gens qui ont ça dans le sang, alors faut pas non plus trop se flageller si on y arrive pas vraiment quand on a le cerveau un peu chamboulé.

Maintenant, si quelqu’un a une technique pour donner un coup de démarreur à la motivation quand je n’arrives pas à attaquer mes propres passe-temps, je suis preneuse… Il n’y a rien d’aussi déprimant que d’avoir envie de dessiner et. de ne pas. y arriver.

Comme un bouchon. Du Desktop mental, ça existe ? De préférence, pas de la weed…

Il y a des médocs, mais encore une fois, les psy ne prescrivent pas ça aux adultes - apparemment ça n’aide plus tellement quand le cerveau est sorti de la puberté. Je m’y connais pas assez en médecine et récepteur neuronaux pour réfuter cette information, aussi je vais supposer qu’elle est vraie.

De toute façon, faudrait déjà voir un psy. Psychiatre, hein, un psychologue ça ne fera rien.

Et puis c’est pas pris en charge par les mutuelles de toute façon - comme de nombreuses choses liées à la santé mentale. La liste d’application du dispositif “MonPsy” est franchement absurde, et c’est la seule chose que ma mutuelle de merde prends en compte. Alors bon…

Tant qu’on survit, ça passe, hein ?

Bref.

J’en étais où ? Ah oui. Le trouble de l’attention. TDA en abrégé.

Bien chiant, ça. Une difficulté à se lancer dans les tâches - mêmes celles que l’on aime, voir plus haut ma complainte sur ma difficulté à dessiner malgré le fait que j’ai ce hobby depuis la primaire. Peut-être que j’ai aussi un problème de burn-out sous-jacent, mais pas le temps de se préoccuper de ça pour l’instant, hop, hop, j’ai la vaisselle à faire, j’ai quarante Work in Progress en dessin, en couture, en broderie, en écriture - Des projets commencés à foison, mais jamais finis, l’envie et la motivation s’étant estompés en cours de route et étant bien difficiles à relancer.

Beaucoup de choses à la fois dans la tête, des pensées qui passent à toute vitesse, plusieurs en même temps, difficulté à se concentrer sur un sujet, surtout si ce n’est pas quelque chose qui nous intéresse plus que cela.

J’ai souvent l’impression d’avoir une vidéo youtube ou un podcast en arrière-plan de mon esprit quand j'essaye de me concentrer. Une musique dans la tête, interrompue par la liste de course à se rappeler - qui sera oubliée dans deux minutes si je ne la note pas - un extrait de la dernière série que j’ai regardé, à laquelle se superpose une ligne d’un livre que je n’ai pas lu depuis des années, puis une image mentale de nourriture en travers, et oh, ça me rappelle une histoire que j’avais lue sur internet -

Une relation amour-haine avec toute chose nécessitant de prendre un rendez-vous, ou pire encore, d’être effectuée régulièrement et à heure fixe - toute mon empathie à ceux souffrant de TDA et devant gérer du diabète, des pilules à heure fixe pour leurs traitements, des aller-retour réguliers chez un médecin…

Bien évidemment, des pathologies annexes résultant plus ou moins directement des troubles du comportement liés au TDA - anxiété, parce que tu as déjà oublié ton manteau au boulot, parce que tu étais plongé dans un livre et tu as failli louper le rendez-vous pour un vaccin - encore une fois, je vous laisse deviner si ce sont des expériences déjà vécues.

Une sorte de timidité et d’hésitation à se rapprocher des autres et à former de nouvelles amitié - si j’oublie déjà d’appeler régulièrement mes parents au téléphone, comment diable vais-je maintenir des liens sociaux avec d’autres personnes ? Et ne me parlez pas de préparer un dîner ou une sortie, ma réponse sera “Je ne sais pas” parce que je ne peux prévoir ce que je ferais ce jour-là, et si je n’ai pas envie, et si je tombe malade ? Pourquoi dire oui à quelque chose si c’est pour changer d’avis ensuite, enfin, ce n’est pas sérieux.

Et puis bien sûr, problème de confiance en soi, syndrome de l’imposteur - est-ce que je fais vraiment un travail correct dans ma vie professionnelle, si je suis incapable de me cuisiner trois repas par jour et de replier mon linge une fois sorti de la machine à laver ?

Qu’est-ce que je fais de ma vie, si je reste bloquée trois heures sur mon téléphone alors que je n’ai même pas vraiment envie de regarder Twitter ou Tumblr ? Est-ce que je suis en train de la réussir, de la rater ?

Qui juge de cela, quels sont les critères ?

Trouble de l’attention, et beaucoup de questions.

Je pense qu’au regard de ces mots couchés à la va-vite sur une page blanche, vous saurez juger de la pertinence de cet auto-diagnostic, et comprendre un peu ce qui me trouble.

Je crois que je souffre de troubles de l’attention. Ce n’est pas tous les jours facile.

Mais bon. On fait avec.

Et c’est bien ça qui compte, non ?

Peut-être que dans quelques années, je gèrerais mieux les “trucs” et astuces pour éviter de rester mentalement bloquée sur des fadaises.

Survivre, et puis vivre. Si tant de gens y arrivent, même ceux qui souffrent des mêmes problèmes que moi, alors pourquoi je n’y arriverais pas ? S’il me faut un peu plus de temps, eh bien, soit. Le temps passera quoi qu'il en soit - à moi de l’utiliser pour m’améliorer.

Reconnaître qu’il y a un problème, et mettre des mots dessus, n’est que la première étape pour résoudre ledit problème. Si mon père a réussit, si ma sœur fait de son mieux, si mes amis aussi - merde alors, je n’ai pas le droit de laisser tomber et de me complaire dans la dépression et l’auto-dévalorisation.

C’est libérateur. De taper tout ça sans trop réfléchir. De “vomir des mots” sur des choses que je n’ai jamais évoquées auparavant. Un poids en moins sur mon esprit.

Peut-être devrais-je écrire dans un journal, ou que sais-je - il doit bien y avoir des conseils pour les adultes atteints de TDA sur internet.

Que cette tirade se finisse ainsi - je pense que j’en ai assez dit.

Mes premiers mots pour ce mois d’écriture, un aperçu de ce qui se cache derrière mon écran, derrière ma personne. Un cri dans le vide d’internet au sujet des adultes atteints de troubles de l’attention - nous sommes là. Nous existons. Nous faisons de notre mieux - ne nous jugez pas trop vite sur ce que vous considérez comme “normal”.

Si toi aussi, tu te reconnais dans ces mots - eh bien, merde. Et bonne chance.

Tu vas y arriver.

#writevember #my writing #Ecriture Nov 2024 #ocs

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ask-funnel-cake-cookie · 5 years ago

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Oh great now Funnel's pets are going to tackle him. This will be hilarious.

Dog Biscuit damn near spills the soup she's got on a tray as the three run passed her. She watches them go with a shake of her head, padding after them a little faster.

Fondant pushes down in the handle and Gogo pushes it open. They all flood into the room with worried beeps and growls, crowding on either side of Funnels bed. The ringleader opens his eyes and smiles with a weak and soft, "Heeey...!", sitting up a little.

#cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run ovenbreak oc #cookie run oc #funnel cake cookie #dog biscuit cookie #gogo the unicycle #fondant the lava cake lion #gâteau the lava cake lion

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vegley · 1 year ago

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do u have any dragon hybrid versions of ur fanmade eggs?

^_^

#oc: gâteau #scuba egg #oc: captain #my art #qsmp oc #qsmp art #qsmpblr #mcyt #mcytblr #<33333 thank you for asking anon :3 #doodles

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thecrimsonvalley · 7 years ago

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A wonderful addition to my Sedgemarch universe, Patrick and his grandson Alexander. It came to be that @midnightcootie oc Jeremiah got together with one of my oc's Katherine, a reincarnation of a goddess from Sedgemarch and they had their little son Alexander. As such, Jeremiah's father, Patrick also came to enter the picture and I can only imagine him as a big grand papa gâteau (direct translation: “grand papa cake” aka a french expression that means a grandparent who is super engaged with their grandchild and perhaps slightly tied around their little finger.)

Sketching and lining : @nattravn-art

Colouring : @thecrimsonvalley

#art #fanart #fan art #Sedgemarch #nattravn-art #Patrick Galloway #Alexander Galloway #oc's #oc's oc's for everyone #grandpa gâteau #precious cinnamon rolls #these two are a permanent edition to Sedgemarch by now #I love when that happens!

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mmfood · 2 years ago

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[OC] Chocolate & Coconut Petit Gâteau

#food #foodporn #delicious

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sa-jolie-chatounette · 3 years ago

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• NÉNETTE’S RULES: •

• Please Read Before • • Interacting. •

About Nénette: Nénette is a female mid-late 20s OC. Morally bankrupt, promiscuous, spoiled, deadly, and gives absolutely zero fucks, she may be a mercenary if you want to put a label on her, but honestly she just does what she wants. She loves expensive things, so if you want to get in her good graces, bring her something sparkly.

About the Mod: Early thirties she/her. Love writing and see RP as a way to hone those skills. Deranged, constantly horny psychopaths are one of my faves, so here we are. This is a side blog, and aside from a few moots, not gonna give out my main.

This blog is 21+ only, if you’re a minor, have no age in your bio, or are a blank blog, you will be blocked, no exceptions.

Asks and DMs are open, but I reserve the right to not respond if I don’t get a good vibe.

NSFW and SFW interactions are both welcome, but please ask before jumping right into NSFW.

This blog is strictly for character and other nonnie role playing. All characters and nonnies are more than welcome to interact, but please remember that there is a real person behind this blog, who does this for fun and does not owe you her time, and who will block your ass if you piss her off.

LGBTQIA+ is welcome and encouraged

I may be a bitch, but I will not tolerate any hate, racism , homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, or rudeness, that’s another way to get your ass blocked, or stabbed if you’re a massive cunt.

Please contact me via DM if you would like to develop a storyline.

Non character anons are allowed but you must assign yourself an emoji. Taken Emoji - 🌙 🦋

Dark or violent storylines may be allowed on a case by case basis. I reserve the right to relegate them to DM or flat out deny if they don’t tickle my fancy.

Limits: scat, feet, vore

If you have a specific way you want me to RP Nènette, let me know (including if you’d like to interact in French). I’m not a mind reader and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable because you don’t know how to ask for what you want. Default attitude is violent and semi-crazy bitch.

Nénette’s Tags:

#Nénette parle - random musings and ideas

#c’est moi - photos of “Nénette”

#si jolie - things Nénette likes

#bonjour? - RP meet cute

#te veux baiser? - NSFW RP

#je suis chaude - things that turn Nénette on

#mon ours a la canelle #big boy - @aribearanon

#cara #🦋papillon - @feileacansaspeirs

#petit gâteau - @littlecupcakeb

#dani miranda #mortelle mais belle - @dani-anon

#mod speaks - OOC announcement

#nénette’s rules #blog rules #oc rp #rp blog #twenty one and over #n.s.f.w. rp

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nikkzwrites · 4 years ago

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Yesterday Once More | Dark Fix-It Fic Series | Chapter 12

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so…. yeah.

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence, Suicide Mentions, Cutting, Violence.

Word Count: 6.9k

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

“We have managed to stabilize the God Particle and the resulting mass,” Claudia’s recorded voice echoed through the empty power plant, “In a stable state, it seems to create a kind of portal which allows for time travel. If the matter is supplied with sufficient voltage, it can be kept in a stable state in the long term. Sending objects through the stabilized matter has already proven possible.” Jonas stared at the swirling dark mass before him as the recording continued, “A generator has to supply sufficient AC current for that. Even after lengthy observation, we’re not sure what the energy source of the unstable matter is. Measurements indicate there is no form of energy loss.” Jonas looked down at his sheet as he continued to work on the machines trying to make a portal for him to go back home. “It appears to be a type of self sustaining recursive system.” Jonas stood back and threw the switch. Frustratingly, the system still didn’t work as the prerecorded Claudia droned on, “The matter’s radiation levels exceed control values. Still no sign of decay has been observed. This is consistent with the laws of conservation of energy, yet contradicts the second law of thermodynamics. Moreover the matter seems to exist independent of external temperature, in solid, liquid, and gaseous states at once. And the molecules seem to be in a constant cycle.” Jonas tried once more. Only this time the machine actually powered up. The ball formed into a perfect sphere causing Jonas to start awestruck at the dropping sphere only for the power to stop. He turned around annoyed trying to find the source of the problem. There, the generator lacked the proper oil to continue.

The sun rose on the 22nd of June 1987. It was five days until the apocalypse. Mikkel shot up in his new bed. There on his wall was a picture of the Goonies. He squeezed his eyes closed and slowly opened them again to study the ‘Captain Future’ and ‘Nuclear Navigators’ comics scattered across his floor. He slowly pulled himself out of bed and shook his head. He could almost feel like Annalise was there. Like a phantom of her fleeting across his imagination. He slowly made his way downstairs where Ines was working on making a sandwich for him.

“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re running a bit late today,” Ines commented. She packed his lunch into his bag. When she saw Mikkel just staring at her, she sighed and said, “Come on, everything will be fine. Just one more week and it’s summer vacation.”

Part of him wondered if this was what it was like for Jonas on his first day back to school. He sighed and recounted to Ines, “It’s my mother’s birthday today.” He longed to be there. He knew in his heart that had he been in his time, Magnus and Martha would be rushing around downstairs decorating as Ulrich swooped back into the house with the last of the needed icing for the Black Forest gâteau Annalise was making. His heart yearned to be on the counter kicking his legs as he stole some of the cherries that were going to decorate the top of the cake. As punishment, Annalise would place a bit of Ganache on the tip of his nose while licking the rest off her finger with a smile that lit up his dreams. Ulrich would then place a bit of the left over batter across her cheek using one of the spatulas that she had used to stir it and wink at his son as if he knew how much Mikkel loved her.

Ines slowly put down her keys and cupped the boy’s face, “You know what we said about that.” She tried to reason with Mikkel, “The past is the past…” She brushed his hair away from his face.

Mikkel nodded, “The now is now.”

Ines caressed him before asking, “Shall we?” At Mikkel’s shrug, she stood up and told him, “Come on.” She led him outside so that he could go to school without any more talk or thoughts of his past life.

Claudia called through her house, “Regina! You’re going to be late!” She turned to Egon and told him, “The French delegation is visiting the plant. I just can’t do it.”

Egon shook his head and explained, “No problem. I don’t have anything else to do.”

Claudia stormed to try and find her daughter, “Regina!”

“I can really do this more often,” Egon told his daughter. When Claudia walked back Gretchen followed her. Something in the back of the man’s head tingled with familiarity. “Where did you find this little one,” he asked Regina. He scooped the dog up into his arms as Claudia stared at him in panic. “Looks like Gretchen,” he commented.

Claudia shook her head quickly lying, “Nonsense.” She took the dog from the confused man and called for her daughter once more, “Regina! Where are you?”

“Listen,” Egon confessed wavering, “I actually wanted to talk to you. There’s something I have to tell you.”

Regina, who was finally ready to go from straightening her hair, walked out right at that moment, “Hi, Grandpa. Can we go?” She was in a rush to go and she walked around with her head held high and a newer self confidence that could only be led back to her meeting the boy Aleksander.

“No need to say bye.” Claudia yelled, “No problem!” After hearing the door slam, she turned back to her father and asked, “You wanted to tell me something?”

Egon bit his lip and shook his head. He, then, nodded and told her, “Never mind. Alright. I will see you later.” He walked out following his granddaughter.

At the police station in 2020, Charlotte stared at the picture of Noah and Sic Mundus. She turned it over to confirm that on the back it indeed still read, ‘8. January 1921. Sic Mundus Creatus Est.’ She looked up and rolled to her search engine on her work computer and typed in ‘Sic Mundus Creatus Est.’ When she searched it she came across the meaning, ‘Thus the world was created.’

Clausen walked into Charlotte’s office and informed her, “The interview with Mrs. Tiedemann. Already forgotten?”

Charlotte shook her head, “No. I thought you might do it alone after all.”

“Why,” Clausen raised his brow, “Do you have something better to do?”

Charlotte’s hands raised defensively, “No. I just wondered why we’re starting with Mrs. Tiedemann. She has no link to any of the missing people.”

Clausen sighed, “Everyone disappeared near the caves and the nuclear power plant grounds.” He walked in as he explained, “Your colleague Ulrich Nielsen’s brother disappeared in that area in 1986 as well. And then… There’s also the door in the caves leading right to the nuclear power plant.” He leaned over the desk and asked her, “How long have Aleksander Tiedemann and his wife been married?”

Charlotte furrowed her brow then shook her head looking at him, “I don’t exactly know. Regina was… in her mid twenties. Why?”

“Don’t you find it unusual,” He asked.

Charlotte asked for clarification, “What?”

“That Aleksander Tiedemann took his wife’s name,” Clausen spoke.

Charlotte shook her head, “No.”

“Shall we go,” He asked her again.

Charlotte, taking the hint, stood up and started to walk out. When Clausen didn’t make an immediate move she called to him and asked, “Are you coming?”

“Yes,” he called to her as he walked away still curious about what his colleague was trying to hide from him.

Elizabeth stared at her book that she got from her great grandfather’s old shop. She was completely absorbed in it that she nearly didn’t notice her sister standing up to go get the door. She was a bit confused because their parents weren’t supposed to be home yet.

Hearing the doorbell, Franziska stood up and walked to the door. She opened the door to reveal Magnus. Annoyed, she asked him, “Hey, where have you been?” He paced inside with the girl hot on his trail, “Why didn’t you call me back? I was trying to reach you the whole time.”

Magnus turned to her and scowled, “Last year, I know where you got the money.” He shook his head and quoted Bernadette, “ ‘Blow job 40 euros, anal 85. Kinky stuff costs extra?’ Who did you do it with, huh? Who did you blow in this damn shithole?” Franziska’s face contorted in confusion and hurt as Magnus continued, “Nothing has changed. Everyone lies. Everyone cheats.”

Franziska shook her head. Her face reddening from trying to hold back tears, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I followed you,” confessed Magnus, “I know who you get your money from.”

Franziska took a large breath and angrily asked, “So your first thought is that I prostitute myself?”

Sneering, Magnus replied, “What else?”

Franziska yelled at him, “I don’t sell my tits or ass! I sell hormone therapy prescriptions, you idiot! My father used to use them to pay for his visits. He stopped going and now I’m the new supplier.”

Magnus stared at her and shook his head, “Why do you do it?”

“I help her, she helps me,” Franziska shouted at him, “It’s that simple!” Magnus started to shake his head causing the girl to continue, “The secrets aren’t the problem, it’s the shit we all project onto others. I said it’s none of your fucking business, and it isn’t! I can’t believe you spied on me. How messed up are you?” She stormed past him to go back into the den to sit on the sofa.

Magnus stared at her for a second before storming out the house.

The older Jonas watched as the girl started to cry in her sleep. He reached over to her and started to wipe her tears away. He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her pulling the girl on top of him. Her hair stuck to his beard as he kissed the top of her head once again. He held her closer as she started to thrash and scream.

Annalise was drowning in the void. It felt as if someone, or something, was dragging her down deep within the depths. Before, she was on a small makeshift raft with Bartosz, Magnus, Martha, Regina, and Aleksander, a storm hit causing her and Martha to be thrown overboard. But now she was in a deep, black void. As she cried out, it only felt as though the dark liquid rushed into her mouth and lungs. Every turn she saw another cold, swollen, lifeless face there with her. Mikkel, Erik, Jonas, Ulrich, Yasin, Helge, her own father Lukas, and when she looked down, there smiling up at her, each holding an ankle was herself and David. Every fiber of her being was on fire, yet ice cold.

Jonas winced at her scratching at him as if she were a caged animal. He called to her, “Annalise, my love. Wake up.” He squeezed her a bit tighter in his arms, “Darling. Wake up.”

Annalise shook awake. Her body convulsed as it coughed up air as if she was choking. Her eyes released more tears as she tried her best to breathe. She buried herself into the man’s neck and wrapped herself around him.

He slowly pulled her close to him and lifted them out of bed. He cradled her as he walked with her still crying into his shoulder. He cooed, “I know. I know. It’s okay. You’re safe now. You’re right here with me. Everything’s okay.” As he comforted her, she only responded by wrapping her arms around his neck tighter. He sauntered to his bag and wobbly bent down to place it on the chair so that he could grab a clean shirt out of it. After placing the clean shirt onto his arm, he slowly started to walk them to the shower. Jonas started it running. He whispered into her ear, “I’m going to slip if I keep holding you like this. Are you okay?” When he felt her nod, he placed her down gently and grabbed her face. He kissed right in the middle of her big puffy red eyes. Jonas told her, “It won’t take long okay?” He put his shirt in the sink.

Annalise nodded. She looked at his chest finally to see tiny red scrapes that seemed like claw marks.

When Annalise reached to touch the scratches she gave him, Jonas turned from her and chuckled, “don’t worry about it.” He said, “As you can see, you have to do a lot more than that to hurt me. I have thick skin.”

Her lips trembled as she nodded and waited for him to be done before going in herself. She washed away the cold sweat off of her. She could feel him still there in the room with her, yet she just focused on the warm water carrying all the fear from her.

Jonas stared at her form hidden from him by the curtain. He didn’t want to leave her alone just in case. He knew what trauma did to people all too well. He turned to face himself in the mirror. He stared at his face wondering how, if things were different, would he still be the same. Would he still look like this? He tried to imagine what Annalise herself would look like. He only ever knew her at this age. Would she still love him if she were able to go past this?

Annalise slowly turned off the shower. She dried herself off and walked out. She noticed him looking distressed. She smiled gently at him, “Is there something wrong?”

He shook his head, “No. I’m sorry for worrying you.” He watched as she stole one of his old hoodies and slipped it on. A smile spread across his face. His heart was young and light once more. His eyes lit up. His troubles felt so far away seeing her in his clothes. He couldn’t believe he took all of this for granted so long ago.

Annalise gave him a hug and asked Jonas, “Should we head downstairs? Get some breakfast?” She kissed his hidden jaw.

Jonas nodded, “Yeah.” He watched as she walked into his room to place her phone to charge. He started his way downstairs after grabbing his suitcase.

Hannah sat at the table looking at pictures of her son. She felt at a loss. He was here with them, yet her Jonas was off in the future. Annalise seemed to have moved on very quickly to this new Jonas that actually burned inside of her a bit. She placed the picture down when she heard his heavy steps go down the stairs.

Jonas silently placed his suitcase on the table and opened it up for his mother. He took out his time machine to show to her.

“What’s this,” Hannah asked.

Annalise answered from the stairs, “A time machine.” She walked down stairs and kissed Jonas’s cheek. She told him, “I’m going. I will see you later.” She pulled away from him after he gave her a small acknowledgement nod and walked towards the door.

Hannah looked back at Jonas, “Since when? You know what… Please continue.”

“This machine takes you 33 years into the past,” Jonas explained as he finished opening up the box, “and 33 years into the future.”

Hannah stood up and examined the box, “You’re both serious?”

Jonas stared at her then sighed, “I did it all wrong. I tried to keep a secret. The truth is, that is exactly what’s destroying us. The secrets. Mom, I know that sounds insane. That’s why I want you to see it for yourself. With your own eyes.”

“What do you mean,” Hannah asked her son.

Jonas whispered, “Dad’s secret.”

Mikkel walked up to the school. He zoned out for a second only to get shoulder checked by a black eyed Katharina who told him to, “Get out the way dork.”

Hannah stopped to look at him giving him a small smile before getting called back by her friend.

“Hannah, come on!” Katharina commanded. When Hannah hurried up to meet her, she asked, “What are you staring at?”

Mikkel sighed and turned away from the school to walk away.

Claudia power walked her way through the power plant with Gretchen in toe. Her heels clicked against the concrete floors.

Her assistant rushed to her and said, “Thank God you’re here. Someone’s waiting for you in your office. I didn’t know… It was about the dog. She says it’s hers.”

Claudia looked up at the woman in shock. She then walked into her office to see an older lady with long gray hair. The small poodle trotted up to the woman proving that Gretchen did indeed know who she was. 1986 Claudia looked at the woman and asked, “Is that your dog? I’m so sorry. She ran up to me. We called the shelter and no one reported her missing. And she resembles the dog I had as a kid.”

“Gretchen,” the older Claudia told her younger self.

Scared, the younger Claudia asked, “How do you know that?”

The older woman shrugged a bit with a playful look in her eye, “Because it’s my dog. Just like it’s yours.”

The younger Claudia took a step back realizing the full scope of what the older woman had said. Breathing hard, she asked, “Excuse me?”

“And the blood test results,” Egon asked the doctor, “So it’s already spread. To the hospital? This Friday? No. Yes, that should work. Don’t worry. I have someone. Yes.” He hung up the phone and slowly walked himself to his chair to sit and contemplate his life. Seeing Mads face in the newspaper reminded him of his missed appointment with Helge. He looked up knowing what he had to do.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” The older Claudia told her younger self, “But I remember.”

“What,” 1987 Claudia shook her head.

The older Claudia clarified, “this precise moment. Go to the blinds. Trust me.” She watched as her younger self followed her instruction then stated, “two people are sitting at their desks, Hermann and Kowaltschik. Our secretary will approach the desk on the right in a moment. She’ll fan her face on the way. Watch Kowaltschik. He’s about to drop his pen.”

Everything happened just as the older woman described causing Claudia to turn to her and ask, “How did you do that?”

“I experienced it all,” The older Claudia explained while holding the small poodle in her arms, “Everything you’ve ever experienced and everything you ever will. I am you. And I was told by me that you and I are the same person.”

Claudia shook her head, “That’s impossible.”

Her older self sighed and watched as she moved to sit back down again. “This is Gretchen,” The older self explained, “The day she ran into the cave. I was there waiting for her. She recognized me at once as if I hadn’t aged a second. I brought her to the other side so that you would find her. Some things have to happen as they always have.”

Claudia nodded, “The cave. The incident last summer. Something else happened after all!”

In 2053, Jonas walked through the empty foggy streets to grab some more fuel. He then set up a small music player in the school to distract everyone from what he was doing. The ghost form of Annalise danced around him with a smile on her face and an arm around her own waist as she twirled. She beckoned him to join her, Martha, and Bartosz in having fun. Bartosz was there with her dancing with her with one of his arms limp to the side as Martha sat on the desk with a hole in her heart bobbing her head to the music. He walked past their phantoms and grabbed his things to continue his work so that he could actually join them in their time rather than just seeing distant memories of them. Just on time, the patrol truck passed. The group hopped out to prepare their raid on the building. Jonas, then, jumped over the wall so that he could syphon its gas into his canister. He quickly ducked behind the wall scared out of his mind as the person guarding the tank had started to move over towards the side he was previously on. There beside him as he breathed quickly was a hazy form of Annalise. As if a memory of her sitting pressed a wall. Her breathing slow. Her eyes were closed helping him slowly close his eyes and calm his breathing so that he was less likely to be heard.

“Do you believe in ghosts,” The young Regina asked.

Aleksander replied, “What do you mean?”

Regina laughed, “The book we’re reading at school. It’s about ghosts and demons” They sat facing each other tangled up in the other’s legs. She continued, “that we inherit from our parents.” She lifted up their held hands and explained, “And...that you pass them on. Dark stuff. From generation to generation.”

Aleksander shrugged and shook his head, “Maybe.” His thumbs grazed the back of her palms. He chuckled and smirked, “I’m sure you inherited your mother’s best features.” He folded his arms so that her arms were even more intertwined with his.

“I didn’t know if she had any,” sighed Regina.

“No,” the lovestruck boy teased.

Regina smiled as she shook her head, “You have no idea. She...She’s never around. And when she is, all she does is gripe about me.” Aleksander let out a large breath and started to trace his loved one’s scars on her wrist as she continued, “She has never once said, ‘I love you’ to me.”

Aleksander sighed. His eyes held her hostage as he told her, “I love you.” He held that moment between them before they both leaned forward to press their lips against their partner’s.

Clausen asked the older Regina, “How would you describe your relationship with Ulrich Nielsen?”

“I think it’s known that we have no relationship with the Nielsens,” the woman explained.

Clausen heckled, “Yet he showed up at your hotel the day before he disappeared. What did he want?”

Charlotte stared at the box on the table as Regina explained, “He wanted to know what really happened in 1986. Because I was the last one… to see his brother alive.”

Clausen looked around the room and commented, “Your husband. How long has he lived in Winden?”

“Since 1986. Why do you ask,” asked Regina right back.

Clausen then asked, “Why did he take your last name?”

“What does one have to do with the other,” she asked while shaking her head.

Charlotte threw up her hands and started to act as if getting up, “If we are done here--”

Clausen shushed her and motioned for the woman to stop. “There is still something,” He commented to his coworker. He turned towards Regina and asked, “Isn’t there?”

Regina nodded and said, “Last year, a stranger came to the hotel. Those are his things.” Charlotte nodded and opened the box as the other woman continued, “He wanted to rent a room. He looked like a homeless person. He paid cash. He left after a few days, but he wanted to keep the room. He never came back.” She watched as Charlotte started to spread out all of the older Jonas’s things across the table. Regina told Clausen, “These were all over his walls. As he was leaving he asked me to mail a package for him. ”

“To whom,” asked Clausen.

Regina took a baited breath and then told him, “Jonas Kahnwald.”

Annalise stared down at the lake beneath her. The stone ledge was the only thing keeping her from it’s depths. She swallowed down her anxiety and started to strip down. She hung her borrowed clothes on a tree branch. She walked a little away from the ledge, turned, then sprinted right off. As her feet left the hard ground, she performed a dive straight into the lake below her. Her eyes closed. Her heart beat faster than she ever knew it to beat.

Magnus happened to be passing by as he sulked in the forest. He saw Annalise run, then, jump into the water. He started to panic. The boy knew how she was about water and swimming. He threw off his shirt and pants hurrying to get into the water. “Annalise,” yelled the boy as he swam out towards where she had jumped.

Weightlessness was a melancholic memory. Annalise opened her eyes feeling herself submerged in the water. She needed to get deeper. She spread her legs much like a frog and forced them together propelling herself farther into the lake. Her hair flowed behind her as she tried to force her way into the darkness. She kept swimming down until she started to hear thrashing near the service of the water. She turned her head to see a pair of legs there. It wasn’t long until she saw Magnus dive down as well. He looked so scared. Annalise swam over to him and grabbed his shoulders.

Magnus flailed beneath the water looking for the girl. He couldn’t spot her until she grabbed onto his shoulders and turned him towards the surface once more. She pointed upwards indicating that they should go up to talk. He nodded and swam up after her. Once he was out of the water he watched her breathing deeply and screamed, “What the fucking hell?” He pushed his hair out of his face.

Annalise turned toward him, “What are you doing here Magnus?” She had finally caught her breath. Her eyes burned from trying to transition from water to air again causing her to repeatedly blink.

“What am I doing here,” He yelled at her, swimming them towards the rocky edge for them to sit, “What the hell were you thinking? That was so fucking stupid! What if I weren’t here?”

Annalise smiled at him as she pulled herself out the water and wrung out her hair. She giggled for a second and slyly commented, “I’d probably still be trying to see how far I could go.”

He growled at her, “You could have gotten seriously hurt.” He watched as she sprawled on top of the sun-warmed rock. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt a little proud seeing her so nonchalant about the water now. He ended up laying down next to her and asked, “But seriously, what made you do this?”

“Honestly,” Annalise sighed, “Everything is just so...crazy right now, that I might as well have done it, right?”

Magnus nodded, “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

The two lay there in the sun letting its heat dry them from the darkness they were once surrounded by. They were there in silence for several minutes before Annalise spoke up again, “You never told me why you were here.” With her eyes still closed absorbing the warmth of the light, she raised one of her eyebrows.

Magnus nodded with his closed as well, “Franziska and I got into it because of some dumbass thing I did.”

Annalise nodded, “Ah.”

Silence overcame the moment once again as they just tried to process their life. They both enjoyed being with each other not having to say anything at all sometimes. Their friendship allowing them to feel the passage of time and their responsibility to it without words. Magnus didn’t realize how much he was going to treasure this memory with her as his life would continue without having her physically being around him.

After a while, Annalise turned to her friend and asked, “Do you hate me?”

“Sometimes,” Magnus admitted, turning to look at her. He huffed and explained, “I sometimes think that you do actually know more about what happened to my father and brother, yet you are refusing to tell me or anyone. Then, I remember that you would never do that to us.” He lay back onto his back and stated, “You love us far too much to ever do anything like that.”

Annalise lay back down as well, “Yeah.”

The older Jonas led his mother through the Winden caves. He periodically looked back to make sure she was still there with him and not hurt. When they got to a large cavern within the space, he set up his machine.

“What is this,” Hannah asked the older version of her son. She breathed heavily and asked, “What are we doing here?”

“It’s safer to travel from here,” He explained to his mother. He knelt down and started to fiddle with the box to start up the machine. He looked up at his mother and told her, “I told you it would be easier to understand once you’ve seen it.”

Mikkel was walking his way back home on the outskirts of the woods just as the box in 2020 was powering up.

Stranger Jonas turned to his mother and told her, “Don’t be scared.” He held her shaking hand as they prepared to travel.

Mikkel continued his walk through the woods avoiding school. Then he heard it. The noise he recognized. He ran his way to the caves hoping to find his way home. He walked closer towards it only to be stopped by a man’s voice.

“Should you be in school,” asked Noah. He walked towards the boy as he continued to cut and eat his apple.

Mikkel looked at him, “I know you.” The boy said, “You were in the hospital.”

Noah strolled over to the boy and explained, “I like coming here. Special place. So...Why aren’t you in school?” When Mikkel didn’t reply, the man smiled, “I see. Sometimes we don’t really know where we’re supposed to be.” He pointed with his knife towards the caves and said, “But I wouldn’t go in there. It’s like a maze in there. Some have never returned.” Noah put away his knife and started to walk away.

“At the hospital,” Mikkel said to the man, “you said something. The thing about God and that he has a plan for everyone. But what if God has no idea what he’s doing? What if the plan is wrong? If God is mistaken?”

Noah shook his head, “God doesn’t make mistakes. Sometimes we have to have more faith that everything will be okay again.” He turned away and tossed the apple to the side as he walked away.

Egon smiled at Helge, “I’ve been wanting to come by for quite some time. Now that I’m retired, I have time.” Helge looked up at him then started to make his little nature soldiers once more. Egon continued, “I… Mads’ disappearance. I can’t stop thinking about it. On that day… you had a shift at the nuclear power plant. You said you took the country road home, but that’s a detour. Why didn’t you take the forest road?”

Helge slowly spoke, “He… He said… He can change everything. He can change the past, and the future.”

“Who said that,” asked Egon.

Helge replied, “The man with the stone.”

Egon asked, “But that was 33 years ago. What does that have to do with Mads?”

Helge took a deep breath, “But no one can change it. No one. Not even the White Devil.”

“The White Devil,” Egon asked, “You’ve said that before. Back then, as a child.”

Helge started to work once more. He kept repeating to himself, “Tick-Tock. Tick-tock.”

The older Claudia stood in the cave with her younger self. She explained, “I would like you to trust in an idea that’s bigger than you. Bigger than any of us.” She started to unscrew a canister of the God Particle.

“What’s that,” the younger self asked.

Older Claudia explained, “This is humankind’s greatest discovery. And also its doom. It allows you to travel through time. Thirty three years back. Thirty three years forward. And it will take exactly 33 years for the cycle to be completed again. Until you are standing where I am standing now and accept your role in this never-ending dance, and every sacrifice it requires. In five days, everything will start over. You must stop Adam.”

The younger Claudia shook her head, “Who is Adam?”

“You don’t understand it yet,” She explained then took out some diagrams, “But you soon will.” She let the younger version of her take it then continued once more, “Until then, everything will happen as it always has. As it must.” She started up the machine allowing herself to back way, “In the end, life is just a collection of missed opportunities. You don’t have much more time with Regina. But if everything works out… she will live.” After that, she disappeared in a black sphere leaving Claudia alone in the cave.

Jonas trekked back to his secret place in the nuclear power plant. As soon as he crawled under. Silja and her group were there with guns pointed at him. Elizabeth walked out from the woods and the boy knew he was in trouble.

Charlotte drove and called Peter. She explained what she had learned to him in a panicked tone. She looked over to her grandfather’s book next to her then back onto the road. She started to break down with her husband asking, “Why did he never tell me who my parents really were?”

Jonas stood there with the noose around his neck and his feet and wrists bound. He glared out at Elisabeth as he shed a tear.

Silja translated for her once more, “You know the rules. Do you think they don’t apply to you?”

Elisabeth held her gun up at him then Jonas asked her, “Why are you lying to them? Why don’t you tell them what’s really in the dead zone?” She shot his leg causing the boy to cry out in pain. He yelled, “In five days, in my time, everybody is going to die! I have to stop that. There is no prophecy! The passage will never open. Your paradise does not exist! But behind the wall-”

Elisabeth had enough of his desperate pleas and kicked his stand from under him. Silja couldn’t even watch as she heard him choking. After a short while, Elisabeth shot the rope allowing the boy down from his hanging.

Egon sat at his home and answered his phone, “Hello? Egon here. Yes. Listen, in 1953 we arrested a man. What happened to him after 1953? He killed two kids back then. Then he abducted Helge Doppler. Yeah. I wanted to know what happened to him. Yes, I’ll hold.” He stared at the picture of Ulrich then when he heard a reply, “Yes? Okay, that’s the case. What? He’s still here? Where?”

He then went to visit the mental hospital where Ulrich was staying. When the nurse led him to the man, he slowly approached. “Excuse me, please. You may not remember me anymore. My name is Egon Tiedemann. I arrested you 34 years ago.”

Ulrich turned towards him and said, “Egon Tiedemann.” He stood up and asked, “How could I ever forget you?”

“I…” Egon stumbled over his words, “I wanted… I have a few questions.”

Ulrich leaned over and sniffed the man. He then quoted in English, “‘My only aim is to take many lives. The more the better I feel.’”

Egon moved back, “I know that. You’ve said that before. What does it mean?”

Ulrich shook his head, “It means that you, you moron, still haven’t understood a thing.” He sat back down at his table, “But now you have to hurry. You don’t have much time left. I know when you die. It was in the paper.”

Egon moved closer to him, “I don’t understand.”

“No,” Ulrich told the man, “Of course you don’t. But maybe that is also your fate. To die as clueless as you were when you were born.” Ulrich laughed, “Everyone gets what they deserve.”

A storm brewed in Winden causing Mikkel to walk back home to an awaiting Ines. She sat at the table smoking. She ran to her son and asked, “Where have you been?” She held him and told the boy, “I was so worried.” She sniffled, “I called the school. They said you never showed up there. Did something happen?” When Mikkel didn’t reply, she looked down, “You know what? There are days it’s best to just forget. But… There’s no better comfort food than ‘Toast Hawaii.’ We always had it at home when I was little, with two maraschino cherries. And my dad used to dance like Elvis.” She put down the can of pineapples.

“Do you believe in God,” asked Mikkel.

Ines made a face. She remembered back to the handsome boy who made her interested in the church. His strong sense of will, right and wrong, and how his smile reminded her of a sunset. He always knew exactly what to say and could make her laugh even on her worst days. He would clown around and end up just hurting himself trying to make her smile, but he would always pop back up with a large goofy smile. He was like that with nearly everyone though. He was constantly making Helge feel better about himself. She remembered one time he really made her heart race though. They were helping the community kids learn how to dance. David was sitting out initially and was there to help demonstrate with the Pastor, but no one wanted to partner with her, so he walked over to her. He smiled oh so gently at her and held her close as they danced. He leaned down and in a low voice sang the song just for her, into her ear. After he pulled away, he, in a husky voice just loud enough for prying ears to hear and with a devious smirk, said, “Here’s looking at you, Kid.” He made her feel like the most desirable person in the room. It worked on everyone else too because boys stopped bullying her and girls started to be a bit nicer to her in school. In fact, the group of girls pulled her and Jana to cluck with the rest of them about the boys and question her about David. She started to go to church a lot more after that just to see the older boy. He would walk her and Jana home. After dropping Jana home first, he’d always leave her just like how he pulled away from her after dancing and adding a sweet chaste kiss where her forehead met her hair line. She could remember how lonely he looked walking away. As if, his happiness was simply a mask to make everyone else happy and there was some darkness lurking beneath the surface.

Ines looked at her son and nodded.

“Do you believe he has a plan for us,” Mikkel asked.

Ines sighed. She thought back to David and her own life after trying to chase the feeling of what he left her...then the feeling of losing her birth son… She nodded once again, “I believe… he does. I believe, for example, that God saw to it that you came to me. And that his plan for me is to be there for you.” She smiled at the boy and rubbed his shoulders, “Right, let’s make ‘Toast Hawaii,’ okay?” She sniffled back tears, “Will you help me?”

Mikkel followed the woman and gave her a much needed hug to comfort the both of them.

In 2053, Jonas sat in his cage. He struggled with his leg and breathing. When he heard Silja, he backed himself more into the corner. His breath hitched as she pointed the gun at him.

“Why didn’t she kill you,” She asked. She stared at him and asked, “Who are you really?” When he didn’t reply, she yelled, “Who are you?” Jonas stared at her debating for a second before she knocked off the lock and opened his cage. She told him, “I want you to show me. What’s really in the dead zone.”

Jonas agreed and they snuck into the dead zone as Charlotte in 2020 looked for answers of her parents. The older Hannah walked towards the 1987 version of her house. There in the window was Ines and Mikkel laughing. Ulrich looked out of his window as Egon looked over his files. The older Jonas held his mother as she realized her husband was Mikkel. Peter rushed to his wife’s side holding her knowing that she needed it. Annalise walked Magnus home and held him close as tears fell from her eyes. Jonas showed Silja the mass. Claudia trekked back to her house and dug up the time machine her older self left for her 33 years prior.

Jonas put the gasoline into the generator and cranked the machine to life.

“What is that,” Silja asked.

Jonas said, “She said it’s a portal.”

“Who,” asked the girl.

Jonas explained, “I have tapes with a woman speaking on them. Her name is Claudia Tiedermann. I know none of this makes sense, but that may be the only way back home.” He pointed to it, “No clue if it works.” He turned the electrical on to see the blob turn into a sphere.

“You want to go in,” Silja tried to reason with the boy.

He turned to her and explained, “It doesn’t matter if I die inside of it or out here.” He walked his way to the sphere and slowly let his hand be consumed for a second. He took it out to see if it was okay. With that, he stepped in with the girl calling for him back in 2053.

#yesterday once more fanfic #dark fanfic #dark netflix #dark netflix fanfic #dark (netflix)#dark (netflix) fanfiction

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