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Forever and Always - Part 1

Title: Forever and Always

Word count: 1,000

Characters: Blu and Girl

Warnings: Angst, crappy writing

Notes: I made this all the way back in 2017. Never got around to doing much with it. Shame. I enjoyed writing it. Even though it made me sad. So I’m posting it, unedited here.

———

March 17, 2006

"Are we there yet?" I ask, leaning forward in my car seat. My mommy adjust the rearview mirror so she can see me better then smiles. Mommy has a kind smile like an Angels'. It always makes me feel so loved when I see her smile.

"We left the house ten minutes ago silly girl," she laughs. Her laughs matches beautiful Christmas bells. My mommy is beautiful, she is the most beautiful mommy in the world. No other mommy can beat her ever.

"But it feels like forever ago, we'll never ever get there." I groan, pushing my wild brown curls out of my eyes. My hair is short and wild it can never be contained, were as my mom's hair is long and flows in elegant waves there isn't even a hair out of place.

"Yes we will it's just ten more minutes." She puts the the rear view mirror back into focus. The car rounds a corner causing garbage and forgot groceries from the other day to slide.

"Hey you said that like five minutes ago." I whine folding my arms across my chest and giving her seat a nice hard kick. "When were you able to tell time?"

"I'm genius, I know everything." I boast proudly. I have to know everything I'm six years old. And six year olds know everything. I'll always know everything I'll stay six forever! You hear that? I'm not growing up, I love being six. I have no worries and no problems. I think to myself believing that I could actually stay little forever.

"Alright genius just look out the window and we'll be there in no time." Through the window I could see a world passing by. The world is passing by without me. I think of all the things I could be doing but can't because I'm sitting in a car. I could be at the park discovering buried treasure in the sandbox or at the beach pretending I'm mermaid. All of those beat sitting in a car that smells like McDonald's takeout.

The car pulls up into a gravel driveway, dust and rocks kick up everywhere. Down the road I can see an old farm house. The house obviously need some new paint and one of the windows was boarded up. "We're here we're here we're here we're here!" I squeal, I can barely contain my excitement, if I hold it in any longer I would surely burst like a bubble.

My mom gets out of the car first closing the door behind her. She opens my door and helps my get unbuckled. I jump out of my seat landing on the gravel drive. Without hesitation I take off for the barn. My mother is calling out after me but I don't listen. Not really paying a lick of attention to my surroundings I trip over something half my size. I quickly get up and dust myself off as best I can. I turn to see what I'd tripped over, a chicken? I tripped over a Clydesdale chicken? "Alright sweetheart slow down," my mother breathes completely out of breath.

We make our way, together, to the barn. The barn looks much better than the house, brand new in fact. Inside single strands of hay litter the floor and full hay bales are up in the rafters. Little balls of fuzz play happily together in a pile of hay. "Puppies!" I squeal getting the fuzz ball's attention. My mother’s friend had a litter of Australian Shepard puppies and I get to have one. They run over to me excitedly tackling me down to the ground.

"Okay Libby remember only one puppy," mommy reminds me. I frown hugging three of the eight pups. "Aww but they're all so cute how can I chose just one?"

I mutter under my breath looking all the puppies over. "Well your cute…wait so are you, and you, and you. You're all just so cuddly!"

“Mommy why can't we keep them all?" I beg making the most saddest puppy dog eyes I’ve ever made. "Honey we don't have the room," it’s like my whole world shatters. I can’t chose that would be like choosing my favorite parent, it’s mommy obviously. There is only one way to make sure this is fair.

I close my eyes and spin myself around holding my index finger high in the air. "Okay I chose you." I shout opening my eyes to see where my finger has landed. It was the smallest pup sitting at the back of litter grey fur covers his back and face. White fur covered his belly, paws and muzzle, and black spots covered the grey area. His eyes were blue and brown and his stub of a tail was wagging at an unusually fast pace. ”Well aren't you a strange pup? I like you, think of all the adventures we'll go on."

I pick the pup up and carry him over to my mom, he’s a lot heavier than I thought he would be. "I chose this one mommy," I say with pride, my mother looks the little pup over. "Sweetie are you sure?" I nod my head so fast I feel like a bobble head, "yep he's special I can feel it."

"Okay then what are going to name him?" Mommy asks, I furrow my eyebrows in slight confusion. "I don't know he needs a special name. A special name for a special pup." I take a couple of minutes to think it over. We slowly walk back to our car, it’s a blue Honda Civic. At night it can appear silver in the moonlight. My eyes light up at the sudden realization, I know what this pup should be named. "How about Blu?" "I like it."

"Come on Blu if we don't leave now we may never make it home, it takes forever." I giggle hoisting Blu up into the car. It’s Blu, mom, and me together forever and always.

Forever and Always - Part 2

Title: Forever and Always

Word count: 1,026

Characters: Blu and Girl

Warnings: Angst, crappy writing

———

June 19, 2012

"Come on sweetie let's get you an ice pack for that shiner." Mom says ruffling my tangled messy hair. She walks down the sidewalk "Coming mom! Blu hurry up," I quietly call. The Aussie jumps out of the car, he's older now. I no longer have to help him get in and out of the car. His fur is more developed and his eyes are much clearer. The left one is as blue as the sky and the right one is as brown as dirt.

"Don't worry you'll get them next time." My mom say, she's just trying to cheer me up. It's her job, mother's are supposed to cheer their kids up. I got into a fight with some boys at school today, over what I can't even remember. It was probably something silly, it always is. Only the parent who cares showed when the principal called.

"No I won't they're so big and I'm so little there's no way I can beat them." I mumble taking a seat on the middle bar stool. It creak under my weight even though I don't weigh that much. My feet dangle above the floor with Blu lying under them. I can hear him sigh contently as he closes his eyes and drifts away to dreamland.

"Hey you are stronger than you know," my mom places a plate of fresh birthday bash cookies. I break a small piece the size of a nickel off and drop it in front of Blu. I share everything with my dog he's best friend. It's Blu, mom, and me forever and always. "Are you quoting Sofia the First? I'm twelve now I don't roll that way."

"No I'm not, don't believe what those boys say about you." I guess she’s right in her own motherly way. I walked away from that fight with less bruises and cuts than all of the those jerks. I bet they're just jealous because I’m the best kid on the baseball team. Nah that can't be true everyone one looks at me differently, not just them. I’m girl playing in a boy’s game.

"Mom they'll never like me girls aren't supposed to play sports with boys. I'm gonna go outback, come on Blu." I explain hopping down from my chair being careful not the land on my four legged best friend. Blu gets up and shakes his fur, he always does that when he wakes up. It always makes his dog tags jingle.

I slide open the sliding glass door. The grass is golden yellow as dead as the dinosaurs. It hasn't rained most of the summer although I don't really mind, more opportunities to go outside and make some human friends. I remember all the great adventures I’d had back here when I was younger. Discovering treasure, going to space, becoming a superhero, all great adventures I’d had with my best friend by my side.

I sulk over to a rickety bench near the end of our yard. It’s old and the wood is faded but I love it. This is my bench something no one can ever take from me. I sit down then pat the spot next to me gesturing for Blue to sit beside me. "You still think I’m great?" I ask, he looks at me. A dog’s eyes can tell you everything. They say the eyes are the window to the soul."Thanks, Blu it’s nice to know you’ll never leave me."

We sat in silence for what felt like forever, but in reality was probably only an hour and a half. A large crash resounds from the inside of my house. Blu growls protectively, I rise from the bench nervously fidgeting with my curly hair. I walk up to the house with Blu right at my heels. The sliding door squeaks as slowly pull it open, "Mom dad are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but I think I'll go for a walk to clear my head." Mom chokes, her eyes are red and puffy, tears stream down her cheeks. Uh oh did the monster make the mom cry?

"Brilliant idea," the monster grumbles stomping his Italian leather shoes all the way upstairs. I jump as the door to his monstrous den slams shut.

"Mom it's getting dark out and I heard there's supposed to be a storm tonight." I warn biting my lip nervously. I don't like the idea of my mom walking along the streets of New York City alone so late at night. "I'll be okay sweetheart."

"You should take Blu he can protect you, he's brave." I suggest, rushing to the door to grab Blu’s leather leash. My mother smiles but not her usual warm angelic smile, this one is different. It's sad and lonely. "That's okay, I think Blu would much more enjoy staying inside."

"But-" I don't even get time to finish my sentence. "No buts I need to be alone for a little while." My mother explains giving me a small side hug. I mentally frown but give my mom a small smile.

"Okay mom I understand, when you get home can we have Popsicles?"

I can feel tears streaming down my cheeks, my whole body is trembling. I hate when my mom leaves me with that beast. He doesn't even know I’m alive, as far as he’s concerned I’m a boy. I highly doubt he even knows my name.

"Sure anything for you, we could even eat them at the bench." My mother laughs. I still love her laugh and her smile, they are what make her so unique.

"I'll be back before you know it, it'll just take five minutes, I love you Libby." My mom coos affectionately, hugging me one last time. I watch sadly as she makes her way down the sidewalk. It's as if the whole world is was watching her leave. Birds were no longer singing and crickets had stopped chirping. The whole world was silent watching her leave.

Count backwards from ten thirty times and she'll be back, I tell myself though it doesn't ease my worries in the slightest. "Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three…two…"

Forever and Always - Part 3

Title: Forever and Always

Word count: 978

Characters: Blu and Girl

Warnings: Angst, crappy writing

Notes: I made this all the way back in 2017. Never got around to doing much with it. Shame. I enjoyed writing it. Even though it made me sad. So I’m posting it, unedited here.

———

September 21, 2018

One parent who doesn't care for his daughter. He sees her as an accessory, she’s only needed for formal events so that his coworkers know that she actually exist. That is my relationship with my father or as I more commonly call him the monster.

"How was school today?" The monster asks, his face hidden behind a newspaper. That's what makes me despise him I can't recall the last time I saw his face. "It was fine, I have a big science fair coming up. My teacher said my project is amazing, Blu is even part of it." I boast proudly, ever since I’d quit baseball I'd had time to work on my grades. I am kind of known to be a nerd but that doesn't bother me.

"Is that so, how nice," the monster responds. He turns the page, he doesn't seem proud of me he never does."Dad maybe…maybe you could come?" I suggest mindlessly twirling my fork in the air. He chuckles before answering, "I don't think so Champ, maybe next time."

There won't be a next time. This is my last year at home next year I’m going to college in California. I want to go to art school to learn animation techniques. I’m going to work for Disney. Maybe I’ll even make a short about Blu. "Oh okay, I think I'll go eat up in my room." I whisper, I don't know why I'd gotten my hopes up.

"That's fine Champ," the monster grumbles.

I take my time taking my plate off the red velvet table cloth. Slowly I make my way down the empty hallway, pictures of the monster decorate the wall. Blu whimpers probably sensing my sadness, I just ignore him. I quietly tiptoe up the flight of stairs careful not to make a sound. I gently turn the golden doorknob then lightly push the door open.

My bedroom is beautiful it's a true symbol of everything I love. Twinkle lights hang from the ceiling like scattered pixie dust. The walls are painted a beautiful Royal blue the same color as the night sky. Various dog toys and Disney knickknacks are scattered across my desk. Multiple sketches of Blu and other characters conjured from my own imagination litter the wall.

I push a few random things out of the way then grab my apple laptop. Flipping the top open I frown, sticky notes off various colors and shapes decorate the screen creating a collage. I quickly peel them off making a mental not to trust my friend with my laptop ever again.

I bite my lip waiting for Skype to load up. Blu jumps up and lays down on my lap. The dummy thinks he's a lap dog when in reality he's crushing my legs. I don't try to move him, he's just trying to comfort me. Blu knows my relationship with the monster isn't as it should be.

My best human friend's smiling face pops up on the monitor making my face break into a grin. "Hey Tom how's it going?" I greet trying to contain my laughter but ultimately failing. Tom was pulling off the most adorkable face I'd ever seen. I only wish I could see it in person.

"You okay Libs you seem a little down in the dumps?" He asks seriously. Tom is awesome, he's funny and very considerate. He takes my sadness very seriously, he almost beat a kid up at my school up once because the bully made me burst into tears, which is pretty hard to do.

Tom and I met on the busy streets of NYC we literally crashed into each other. Blu had decided it would be fun to chase a kid with a hot dog, I can tell you it wasn't. Lucky for me a kind boy my age caught him before he ran into the streets. Tom and I have been friends ever since, though sometimes I think Tom loves Blu more than me.

"I guess so it's just my father. He can't come to the science fair." I sigh twirling a strand of hair with my finger. Tom furrows his brow in confusion,"did he give you a reason?" I shake my head making my long tangled hair whip from side to side. "Nope," I say licking my salty lips loudly popping the 'p'.

"Hey you've still got me and Blu." Tom offers, I shrug gently petting Blu's soft fur. "Yep, a dork and a dog, what more could a girl need?" I snort, Tom chuckles. In the background I can hear someone yelling his name. "Hey I've gotta go Libs, mom calls. Talk to ya later," he says giving me a small wave goodbye.

"See ya later Tom." I whisper tightly hugging Blu's neck like he was a pillow.

"Okay Blu what do you wanna do?" I mutter into his fur, he snuffs getting dog snot on my leg. I gag sometimes my best friend can be really be disgusting but I put up with it. Blu has always been there for me, he's hasn't really left my side since I'd adopted him. I couldn't remember a time where Blu hadn't been there to comfort and console me. He loved me for me, not because he felt obligated to, but because he is my best friend.

Blu is my best friend I care about him more than my own life. I'd put myself in harms way to protect him if I had to. Blu is my entire world, in my opinion Blu is the center of the universe. My life would be incomplete without him. Blu has always loved me unconditionally, he has always been there for me, Blu would never leave me. It's Blu and I against the world forever and always.

Forever and Always - Part 4

Title: Forever and Always

Word count: 969

Characters: Blu and Girl

Warnings: Angst, crappy writing

Notes: I made this all the way back in 2017. Never got around to doing much with it. Shame. I enjoyed writing it. Even though it made me sad. So I’m posting it, unedited here.

———

December 23, 2024

"You can take as long as you like just call us when your ready." The veterinarian's voice was soft and distant. I could barely hear the door close behind him as he left. This room isn't making things any easier. The walls are plain white and the floor is concrete, I feel like I'm trapped in a prison cell. I slide down the wall finding it difficult to breathe, am I actually drowning? "O-okay," I say my breathe is shaking and my whole body is trembling. Did the vet leave? Is he still in the room? I can't bring myself to look around, I can't recall if he did or didn't leave.

Blu trots over to me he can tell I'm uncomfortable. He doesn't even realize what's going on. He doesn't know what is to come, I can't bring myself to tell him. Blu had gotten old, he can no longer jump in the car by himself. That playful twinkle could no longer be seen in his eyes, now his eyes were surrounded by white hairs. Hair that had replaced his once vibrant grey fur.

"Blu I don't know what I'll do without you," I choke out. I stroke his fur it's still as soft as the day I'd gotten him. I will forever look back on that day fondly, the day a little dreamer in rain boots, a tutu, and a tiara found her best friend. I wish I could go back to that day, and tell her of all the adventures she and her little pup would go on.

"I want you to understand that I still love you, but this is for your own good." I bury my head in his fur inhaling his doggie smell. I can smell the fresh cut grass he rolled in this morning and the bacon I dropped on him during breakfast. "I made a list I want you to hear before I say good bye. It started when I was six and it ends today."

"Blu I made a list a of reasons for why I love you,"I take his head and press his forehead against mine. I look into his eyes and smile. I'm sending my best friend away today, but at least I know Blu has lived a long and fulfilling life. I take a deep breathe then begin. "One hundred and five, your my dog. I don't have to share you with anyone else. You'll always be mine don't you forget that."

"Sixty-seven, your super protective some might say overprotective. You didn't need to bite Cassie that time she playfully punched me." I laugh, Cassie had gotten so mad at Blu. She was never really a dog person, I believe Blu knew that. From that point on I always had to warn my friends about the overprotective fur ball when they came over.

"Thirty-one, your a real cuddle bug. Thank you for letting me use you as a pillow or stuffed animal the many times I cried myself to sleep." Sometimes having a best friend to cuddle and listen is all that I ever really needed. People always try to cut you off and never listen, but a dog truly listens. They can’t talk so they listen. Blu knows how many times I just wanted to be heard.

"Eleven, you make me happy to be alive. I won't say I was ever depressed, but knowing you were always by my side made the world a little brighter." For an unloved thirteen year old who saw the world as one big nightmare come true, it was always comforting to know Blu was there. Blu had always been there for me. He was there when I turned sixteen and no one could make it to my party, he was there when I had received my scholarship, and he was there when I said yes to my friend. He had been my only family and I didn't want to let him go.

"Three, you have always comforted me." Blu was there for me that rainy night of June 19th, he let me sob into his fur for hours. When I lost a baseball game he would suggest a game a fetch the only way a dog could. He would drop a ball at my feet and wait for me to pick it up and throw it. It would always lift my spirits, I would hug Blu after and praise him for bringing it back. He was the friend that could always make me gr

Chapter 1

Title: Eccedentesiast

Word count: 3, 312

Characters: John Watson and Matilda May

Warnings: bad dreams, panic attack?

Notes: Okay here's the first official chapter. I'll warn you I have a lot of "filler"/character chapters in mind before getting to the actual series episodes. Matilda needs to develop a sound relationship with John before thing get hectic. It's been two weeks since John took Matilda in as his foster child. She's still distrustful. Unsure whether it’s actually worth it to build a relationship with her foster father.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from BBC Sherlock (2010) only Matilda and other oc's.

Rated M - for Treachery.

———————

Eyes a hickory as rich as the earth's soil blew open constricting in the illuminated void.

Matilda stood on a pristine reflective surface, icy chills one after the other creeped up her spine. Her body stood rigid and up right as straight as a stone pillar. The space around her was pitch black save for a single indeterminate white light source that illuminated the area. It seemed she was stuck in a void, an endless expanse of nothingness for miles and miles.

Compelled by some unknown force Matilda began to move forward. Under the weight of her soles the surface rippled. Was it water? It appeared to be liquid glass. A thin cool layer that furrowed and waved with each step. She moved forward at a slow pace, one foot after the other. The silence of the inky void made her blood as cold as the murky waters of Antarctica.

In the black she could sense a seed growing in the pit of her stomach, in her core she knew the feeling. It felt as much a part of her, as the heart drumming in her chest. Under Matilda's lightly freckled exterior, beneath the anxiety, she was... It didn't matter. It doesn't matter. She chose to ignore the feeling. there was nothing that could be done about it. Not now.

Matilda didn't need to look, she kept moving forward. She knew left, right, forward, and back there was nothing. She stood alone in the black nothingness.

The darkness swirled around her petite form pricking her pale skin. A chilling draught of air bit at her nape. It blew in from the west or... perhaps the East. She couldn't be sure. Matilda cautiously turned her head to look over her shoulder. She sensed— she could feel... Matilda brought a single hand to the back of her neck.

Yep.

The hairs stood on end. She stopped dead in her tracks, making a complete 180, the water rippled beneath her.

Bam, bam, bam.

Adrenaline shot through her system. It pumps and beats like it's trying to break through her chest. Matilda's eyes grew wide with fear. Every instinct she had screamed either run fast or curl up in a defensive ball and take whatever came. Matilda usually favored, was the latter. But something told her this time it was better to run— smarter to run.

Bam, bam, bam.

She ran bare feet slapping the reflective ground. The cold air cut her throat as she inhaled deeper and faster. Matilda never was much of a runner. Her short legs betrayed her. She punched away into the darkness, haring forward. She could hear the loud pounding gaining, closing the distance between her and it.

Bam, bam, bam.

Aimlessly she sprinted forward. She recognized the sound. It poured gasoline onto the spark of fear stabbing between her ribs. Fear torched her guts, churning her stomach in tense cramps. Her lungs began to burn making Matilda's breathing shaky and labored. Her legs felt like churning cement.

Bam, bam, bam.

Matilda's feet slipped out from under her. The world rushed by in a blur and she knew the pain was coming. The world went by fast, yet slow, almost suspended. Then impact. Every muscle in her body knotted up, weighed down by the icy hands of the darkness and exhaustion.

The sound was closing in, so loud now it made her ears bleed. The wind viciously blew in from behind, howl more like a wicked cackle.

Matilda pushed herself up on all fours. She couldn't bare to stand all the way but she had to move. She couldn't allow the pursuer to catch her. She couldn't. Desperately she crawled forward.

Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam... crack.

Looking down from her place in the void, Matilda tried to steady herself trying to comprehend what was going on around her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she eyed her reflection beneath her. Hesitantly she presses a trembling hand against the cold liquid glass. The pounding ebbed into nothingness until, until silence was as absolute as space.

Matilda stared entranced by her reflection. A paralyzing hurt spread through her body like sharp, liquid metal. The face staring up at her was foreign, new. She couldn't hear her rapid breathing, ignored the fogging up of the surface from her warm breath.

A child stared up at her. Her eyes are a bold cunning brown, the color of dark chocolate, and her neat, earth after rain brown hair pushed back by a red headband. Her pale skin was a canvas for her numerous freckles, as if some one had strewn brown chips of marble about frivolously. She wore a dress that stopped above her knees — blood red.

The reflection wasn't hers.

Matilda's eyes, a weak shade of brown, were dim, the color of dying candle, and her curled dirty blonde hair slowly browning from the roots hung in matted knots. Her skin while pale was marked purple and blue in spots, her freckles were rather small and barely visible unless she purposely dotted them with markers. She too wore a dress, however it was one of a different style and the color — envy green.

Fear curled up inside her and clung to her ribs, settling uncomfortably in her chest. She began to inch back away from the inaccurate reflection.

Crack. A long thin crack followed her and her reflection, growing with each move backward. She immediately ceased her movement. It was too late the crack continued to creep across the surface, sounding like the crushing of bones. It worked and slithers branching off in different directions until it created a circle trapping Matilda in the center. Three large splits fractured the face of her reflection.

Certain the breakage was through, Matilda cautiously stood. Her legs were like jello but she managed. Looking around she saw no way out. No matter where she stepped the ground would break out from beneath her.

BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM!

She stood hand covering her ears, in the middle of the void that had become her world, a world decorated by it's own broken cracks. Her brown eyes flickered out, becoming full, glossy. Then all at once she collapsed, tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

She could call for help. What would be the point? Why ask for help when there's no one for miles, to hear you.

In her distress she didn't notice the lone pale inky hand reaching from the depths of her liquid reflection. Icy fingers gripped her ankle in the darkness. Eyes fearfully widened, a gasp escaped her lips. In a moment of pure instinct she reached out, fingers extended.

All at once the glass shattered below her. She opened her mouth to let out a desperate scream but all that came out was air. The realization flooded in, there was nothing to be done.

She went silently. The last piece of her to drown, a hand, desperately reaching out.

JWJWJW

Waking up can be a kind gift, especially when nightmares fueled by her childish insecurities plagued her somnolent mind.

Matilda woke faster than a cat dropped ice-water, eyes flung so wide each iris was a perfect orb of rich hazelnut chocolate. She felt a sharp pain, like a knife, in her chest. It weighed on her, as if she were Giles Corey facing punishment. Cold sweat coated her skin giving it a texture. With a long exhale she felt her limbs flex in shock. Everything was blurry, her head spun. Images of her horrible dream echoed in the back of her head.

She stole a glance at the clock on her end table, rhythmically ticking away the seconds. 1:37am. She blinked, closed her eyes, and blinked again. She wanted to scream, but that's not what she needed.

She sat up, dragging her feet off the bed. Wrapping her upper body in her blanket, she got off bed, dragging the too large single sized blanket behind her. She yawned, ambling down the quiet corridor.

She was only slightly surprised to find John, sitting alone in the dark family room, the dim light of his laptop softly illuminating his face. She had a feeling he'd be up. He always was, going over patient files preparing for his next work day. However he was usually in his room.

She quietly shuffled into the kitchen, careful not to disturb John. She'd be quick, no reason to bother him. She'd get what she needed and return to her room.

Better to be self-reliant.

She stood in the center of the flat's small kitchen, where a kitchen island would be if there was room. Around her shoulders her blanket, worn like a cape, trailed behind her like a wedding train. She sucked on her middle and index fingers, eyes glued on a particular cabinet.

I did this earlier, she recalled. Her eyes bounced around the room, looking for things that could help her situation. She couldn't replicate her trick from breakfast, everything had been moved over the course of the day. The step stool was missing. She needed to think of something. Matilda could hardly reach the counter top on her own. Peanut.

Focusing, Matilda drew in her lower lip. Her eyes lit up, idea after idea flooded her brain, streaming. Her eyes narrowed in deep concentration, as she flipped through her concepts as if they were pages in a toy catalogue.

No, no, no, wait... she paused. A particular idea was formulating in the back of her head. Doable, a bit chancy.

Matilda was wrong. (In more ways than one.) John wasn't up going over patient files, well not every night. In the dark room, sitting on the sofa, his typing had a relaxing sound. He'd drowned out the furious noise of the rain thunder against the window panes ages ago. The darkness in a way had become his sanctuary, a place to recharge and forget. Forget about things, people time had abandoned.

His eyes scanned his screen, and read through the typed out text.

"He hasn't got a clue! He's flummoxed! He's bamboozled!

He's stuck...”

03, August. The words awakened old memories he couldn't bring himself to forget. All memories come with a price. Good or bad. You can't go back and fix them. You can't go back and relieve them. As much as you wish you could.

"According to the flight details, he was checked on board. They found the stub of his boarding pass and napkins etc on his body. His passport has been stamped in Berlin Airport. He should have died in the plane crash. But he didn't.

He was in a car boot. In Surrey.

Obviously, I haven't got a clue but neither does..."

He clapped down the laptop. That's enough for now.

Out of complete silence arose a loud clatter, the sound metal colliding against wood. "What the hell?" John quietly muttered, silently cursing as he got up to investigate.

Following the sound he found himself in the kitchen.

Matilda was on her knees back to him rummaging through the lower shelf of one of the cabinets. A mess of pots and pans was chaotically sprawled out across the kitchen tile, the largest pile up blew the counter where Matilda was kneeling. It didn't take a high functioning sociopath to deduce what had happened.

"Matilda what are you doing?!" The little girl froze, all of her muscles went tight. "You can't be climbing on the counter, it's not safe." John took her under the armpits and set her on the ground. She did not like that. As soon as John let her go, she corrected herself. She stood straight, arms at her side ready to take whatever John doled out.

Her brain was a beehive, a buzz with thoughts. She didn't mean to make him upset. She just needed to calm her head after the bad dream. Her heart felt tight. Her breathing became more rapid, more shallow. Her hands like claws ran through her hair pushing back her hair.

"You could have seriously hurt yourself," John went on.

Thoughts accelerated in her head. Too many, too fast. She squatted, sitting criss-cross on the floor, trying to make everything slow to a pace her young brain and body could handle.

John's scolding wasn't loud; he had neighbors and thin walls. For Matilda however his voice was so harsh it rivaled gunfire. "What were you thinking?!"

He knew he'd overstepped when he looked down to see the small girl curled up in her blanket like an armadillo. She was curled up in the fetal position eyes trained forward, completely glazed over.

"Matilda? Matilda?" John softened his tone, carefully kneeling beside her. "Sweetie I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice." Matilda remained unresponsive. He'd have assumed she was dead if not for the repetitive rise and fall of her stomach from beneath the blanket.

He waited. The rain floated down the window pane in gentle waves, the pitter patter is a soft form of music. Pellets of water plink across the asphalt scattering puddles all round the city. The gusting wind blew with great force rocking the trees carrying the droplets in diagonal sheets. He sat in the darkness tenderly stroking back Matilda's browning dirty blonde hair.

John half-asleep woke to the sound of gentle lilt. From Matilda came a humming sound. Her eyes mindlessly darted around the room, never settling on a particular spot. She was chewing on some of her hair, a habit that appeared to be calming her down.

After a while Matilda went quiet, pupils fixing on the man beside sitting on the floor beside her. She pushed the hair out of her mouth. Her voice was quiet when she spoke.

"Can I have hot cocoa... Please?”

JWJWJW

Was it the best parenting decision, agreeing to let a young child have a rich mug of hot chocolate before returning to bed? Perhaps not. Did it settle the child's shot nerves, melting them like fondue. The little girl swore by the creamy beverage, claiming it was often the simplest things that brought her comfort. Hot chocolate, her comfort beverage.

Matilda sat at the overhang counter, feet dangling over the edge of her seat. She had proved not to be one of those children. You know, the ones who ask every minute "is it done yet?" She wasn't one of those kids. She held herself poised, trying to forget the previous moments events.

Matilda had thoughtlessly been twiddling her thumbs, chewing the inside of her cheek. "Why are you so a miss? You in all your faults. You're a loon, a weirdo, a mistake." There it went, her studio inner dialogue, it was never her friend. She didn't have friends. "Can't even handle a measly nightmare. Such a frea—"

"Matilda," John's voice saved her from her own thoughts. "Here you go, lovely." Matilda flashes him a smile, not a scared one but too tired to be considered a genuine smile.

He placed a mug in front of her. It was the first time he'd been able to make her hot chocolate since he'd taken her in. Despite John repeatedly telling her that his microwave was better than stovetop — and that she wasn't allowed to use the stove — she was inflexible.

Her eyes suspiciously narrowed, this was not her hot chocolate. "Thank you," she murmured, kindly accepting the mug. John chuckled softly, the child was too polite. From the slight crinkle up of her nose he could tell she was perplexed. He could see the little cogs in her brain spinning.

What's this? She cutely tilted her head inspecting, the white whip dollop stacked on top of cocoa decorated with red rectangle flecks. She hesitantly sticks out her tongue, just barely touching it against the white whip. Chills.

For a moment Matilda wraps her small hands around the ceramic mug, letting the heat warm her clammy palms. "Thank you," she repeated more sincerely this time. Leaving the mug, with some struggle she managed to get off the tall tool seat without help. She had every intention of retaking her mug — she'd finish the cocoa in the safety and security of her own room — however John picked up the mug before she had the chance.

Matilda bit her lip, nervously twisting the fabric of her pajama top. "Question for the cocoa," John bargained. Matilda's lips pressed together, turned down at the edges, and she nodded. "Why are you up?" He asked delicately.

Matilda's right eye twitched.

Understandably, Matilda was the most reserved and withdrawn child he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. She was nothing like the children who so boldly so curiously sought the council of Sherlock long ago. She kept to herself. Only speaking when it seemed polite or required.

"Truth please," John requested squatting so he was eye level with the 33.4" girl.

Her self-confidence was basically dead in the water at this point. It'd been brutally grabbed from behind and held under the drink against its will. Not that herself self-confidence had much of a will.

With a shaky sigh, she submitted. "I had a bad dream.

There was always an adorable yet heartbreaking timidness to her actions and mannerisms.

"Do you want to talk about it?" John offered, kindly handing the still warm mug off to Matilda. She flinched at first, body readying itself for a scolding blow. But she relaxed as soon as she realized John was only returning the cocoa to her.

She fearing he would change his mind on a dime she swiftly took the mug, cupping it in her hands. "No. No, thank you." she politely declined taking exactly two steps back from John. Weird, he didn't seem mad about her shortcoming.

As she inched toward the corridor, eyes never leaving John, she brought the rim of the, 'Our Clinic Has An Awesome Doctor. True Story.' mug to her lips. Dark, rich and pepperminty the warm hot chocolate coated her tongue thickly before flowing down her throat.

"I'm always here for you, if you need me," John whispered, knowing he couldn't hear him already around the corner.

Matilda May. John couldn't help but care for the little girl. Not only because she was utterly adorable, but also because there was something so endearing about her in general. A bit rigid around the edges, she was sure a sweet little darling. She was broken and scared, she didn't quite trust him.

He was hopeful she'd come around, eventually. He just had to—

Matilda poked her head back from round the corner connecting the kitchen and the corridor. "Goodnight John."

John's mouth twitched, the corners of his mouth lifted up into a soft smile.

—give it time.

Okay you guys have no idea how many ranting threads I have going with my friend. The Good Place, Doctor Who, The Umbrella Academy, etc. They're pretty chill. I have so many ideas but so little time.

Winnie the Pooh

In Which We Are Introduced Lillian-May And An Adventure Begins…

Series: The new age

Word count: 1,566

Characters: Madeline, Ms. Robin, Pooh and Friends

Warnings: Fluff, and brother sister bonding

Notes: So I wrote this for a school project. We had a small word limit and little time to complete the project so the ending it muddled and a bit rushed. The original idea was to add character that would give some life to the the lifeless 2018, Christopher Robin movie.

———

Here is Lillian-May, looking up at the sky now, watching the world pass her by. “That one looks like a duckling,” she thought, “that one a slithery skake.”

She laid in the middle of the bench, in the middle of her family’s rear garden, alone. Stretching her arms out she dug her fingers into the ground, getting dirt stuck beneath her nails. She pulled up and released what grass she held into the breeze. Quietly she watched it go. Swirling this way and that. She watched it until it disappeared over the fence, into the yard.

“Where does the wind take such small thing?” She couldn’t help but wonder.

She’d seen the wind take leaves in the fall, and the white fluffy wishlings the summer.

Lillian-May smiled as a grand idea, came to mind. She was quite tired of doing nothing. For you she’d done nothing all morning and now it was early afternoon. Sometimes doing nothing could be quite boring, if done for long enough.

She sat up swinging her legs over the side of the bench. Only something fun could cure her great boredom. Perhaps an adventure was what she needed. An adventure for what, she didn’t quite know. Just an adventure through the wood to find something. Something had to be better than nothing.

“I suppose I should start my searching,” she decided, rolling over onto her stomach, she got to her feet, and said her last goodbye to the duckling cloud. The skake got nothing more than a curt wave and rude raspberry.

She hopped up the steps, one, three, one, two, three, four, five, for to her there was no other way of going up the steps. She always forgot step two, then decided perhaps if that step had feelings she did indeed hurt them by skipping them over. So she goes back to start from the beginning, making sure she does indeed do step two.

Lillian-May open the door quietly, peaking her head through, she looks around ensuring no one is around to notice her, then slips through the small opening.

“Lillian-May, is that you darling?” Called her mother.

“No, mummy it’s not me,” answered Lillian-May.

The mother, her mother is a lovely woman—the loveliest, the very best at kissing booboos, and giving hugs, and singing lullabies. Her mother is the best mother in all of London, she has to be, as it says so on the card Lillian-May and her older sister made for their mother’s birthday earlier that year.

Her mother was an architect or at least that’s what Lillian-May was told, she couldn’t quite remember a time when her mum was anything except her mother. She sometimes finds herself thinking maybe it was a time before she was born if only she could remember such a time.

With those few words, she went on through the house, up the stairs, to the room she shares with her sister.

She can’t say she is close to her sister, not in the way she wants to be. For her sister, Madeline is a girl with a very big brain. Which is why Lillian-May found it odd that her sister understands very little.

She crouches on her knees before her bed, looking at the clutter underneath. As Lillian-May would explain there needs to be a underneath her bed, the mess keeps the monster happy, and the monster beneath the bed protects her from the snufflegrump in the closet.

“There you are,” said Lillian-May pulling out her hat of adventuring, it’s the only hat one can wear when good adventuring is to be done. For one cannot explore without the proper cap.

“What are you up to now?” Asked Madeline in a somewhat annoyed voice.

Lillian-May smiled mischievously, placing her hat of adventuring upon her small head. “Why can’t you tell?” Asked Lillian-May. “There is adventuring to be done. You, of course, are welcome to come. One can get the job done, but two makes it twice as fun.”

“I have work to do,” said Madeline, sitting at the one desk in their room.

Of course, he has work to do, people with very big brains always have work to do. They work so very hard to understand the very hardest things there are to understand.

Lillian-May always promised to keep her brain very small. For the work, her brother did never did seem like fun, like the small things that popped into her very small brain.

“That’s okay,” said Lillian-May, “I shall enlist my friend’s surely they will go adventuring.”

“Your animal friends?”

“Yep,” said Lillian-May popping the ‘p’.

That’s how it was and that’s how it always had been between the two siblings. Madeline, a girl with many responsibilities that she gives to herself. And Lillian-May, a child with her head up in the clouds.

After leaving her brother to his work, she hopped on down the steps, careful in not forgetting step two. She never forgot step two on the way down, that would just be silly.

“Mummy where are my boots?” Yelled Lillian-May the moments she reaches the base of the stairwell.

Lillian-May parades into the living room where her lovely mother sits, stitching up a quilt she’d made for her eldest child in her younger years.

“Mummy, do you know where my boots are?” Asked Lillian-May, “I can’t possibly go adventuring without them.”

“Of course you can’t. What’s a good explorer without her boots?” Asked her mother. She picks Lillian-May up, sitting her daughter on her lap.

“They aren’t under the bed, or at the base step like the ought to be.” Said Lillian-May in a sort of worried tone. Surely her boots didn’t walk off, they knew better than to run off without her.

“Did you look beneath the table?” Asked her mother.

“Why would they be there?” Lillian-May asked confusedly. Perhaps her boots had gotten hungry, as everything inevitably does, but then again they only eat mud and dirt.

“I do believe I recall a certain little girl leaving them there before dinner,” her mother said kindly.

Lillian-May grinned sheepishly, she had almost forgotten. Often times her adventuring days ended at the dinner table, and in her excitement, she forgot to check her boots at the door.

“Oh right, in all my forgetfulness I had forgotten.” Said Lillian-May.

With these words she slid off her mother’s lap, after saying one last thank you, she ran into the next room, the kitchen. She came to a stop before the table, bending over to see what lied beneath.

There she saw her boots, sitting in front of her chair, in a puddle of mud.

“Silly boots, I almost lost you,” said Lillian-May.

As her grandfather had once told her when she was very little. One can not set off on a proper adventure without the right pair of boots. Though she thought her adventure cap was indeed more helpful.

Lillian-May sat outside her back door, pulling on her big boots. She’d gotten them when she was smaller, now she’d grown, as all small children do.

“All I need now is some friends,” said Lillian-May in a matter of fact tone. “Perhaps a silly old bear.” She said as she ran off into the deep wood.

After some time she came upon a place most familiar. The home of one huggable Pooh Bear.

“Good evening Pooh Bear,” she called out coming down the bend.

“Hallo Lillian-May.”

“Prepare yourself, Pooh,” said Lillian-May excitedly.

“Ah yes prepare,” Pooh said. He thought for a little and then asked. “Prepare? For…supper?”

Lillian-May shook her head and giggled. “No you silly old bear. We are all going on a grand Expedition,” said Lillian-May as she boldly pointed her hand in the air. “We are going to go on an adventure.”

“Oh!” said Pooh. “What kind of adventure?” he asked.

“The fun kind,” said Lillian-May, not quite knowing what kind herself. “I don’t quite know what for. But it’s an adventure, for something.”

“What kind of a something?” Asked Pooh.

“We won’t know until we find it Pooh.” Said Lillian-May, as she carelessly drew symbols in the dirt.

“Ah yes, yes I see now.” Said Pooh, though he didn’t really.

“Now you’d best go round and get the others. I must go to get more adventuring supplies from my tree.” And with these new orders Pooh waddled off.

It wasn’t long before Pooh and his friends were all together ready to begin their adventure. First to arrive was, of course, was Pooh with his best animal friend Piglet, then Lillian-May and Kanga, with Roo in her pocket, then Eeyore and lastly Tigger with the rest of their friends.

“Well here we all are,” said Eeyore in his usual melancholy way. “Together again.”

“Yes Eeyore,” said Lillian-May. “Together for another adventure.”

“An adventure? Yippee!” Squeaked young Roo as he jumped out of his mother’s pouch.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready!” Cheered all the animals of the wood. Pooh, Tigger and all except save for Eeyore.

So off they all went on a grand new adventure, where to none of them knew, what for they didn’t know either. However they were with they’re friends, so it didn’t quite matter.

Friendly note that i would love to talk about my ocs, so if you wanna hmu with any questions, i will love you forever. I’m about to be bored in lectures and would love some of brain work. So give me questions or heck I’ll even try head canons. Please I’d appreciate some help character building.

sorry if this seems like a weird question, but do you have to plan character goals and motivations for characters that are less than five years old?

Their age doesn’t matter, what matters is their role in the story.

Take ice age for example, even the kid has goals and motivations (to find his parents, to eat, to have his nappy changed.)

A child probably won’t have life changing goals like “find them man who murdered my parents” unless they’re a really cool five year old lol

But if the character is important to the story there should be a reason for them to be there.

I hope that makes sense. It’s hard to give advice without knowing the details.

Arcs to write instead of a love story:

Enemies to best friends

Siblings growing closer

Siblings growing apart

Best friends to enemies

Reluctant parent figure

Reluctant teacher figure

Overly eager teacher/parent figure to reluctant student.

Best friends to even better best friends

Switching archetypes. Ex: Mom friend and irresponsible friend switch by the end of the story.

Kindergarten Dialogue #002

Adult: “You can’t just bury everything down.”

Kid: “You can’t. I have a shovel.”

I really do have way too many story ideas in my head. Not enough time to write full stories for them all though. Which is disappointing. So I have characters for Criminal Minds, Good Place, Umbrella Academy, BBC Sherlock, Ducktales, Steven Universe, Once Upon a Time, Spider-man, Avengers, Percy Jackson, and It. Of course if memory serves correctly they’re all platonic. I’m thinking headcanons will have to do I do quite enjoy writing them.

Turns out I really making covers for my ocs stories is very therapeutic. I’m at peace.

I always found the 7 act structure helped me a lot more than the 3 acts.

Link right here

So like I made CW Flash oc and I want to write some imagines for her but like I have no ideas. So again I’d really appreciate is some of y’all would send in some ideas/request or just ask questions about my oc. It’d mean the world to me. Plus it lets me know what you like and what you don’t.

Beginnings

Long ago, when humans were just finding their footing, a piece of the moon fell down to Earth. Upon first landing, it had struck a giant oak tree. Filled with magical energy, it seeped into the tree. The tree began to drip golden sap. Dripping turned into leaking, and leaking turned into pouring. This sap enchanted the land, and all the animals within it.

Eventually, humans stumbled upon this tree. Those who drank from it were gifted with knowledge. Knowledge of how cast spells, and manipulate the world around them. They loved the tree, protected it, even called her 'Mother'.

Some, foolish humans feared the tree. They rejected her gift, refusing to use her knowledge. Then, one day, they banded together, trying to cut her down. The others tried to talk them out of it, practically begging them to spare their Mother. Their cries went unheard.

Before Mother could be cut down, the foolish humans were stopped. The strongest of her children used her gift to cast them out. They sealed her land away, hidden from those who didn't accept her love.

Humanity went on, branching off into two societies.

Witches.

And Humans.

But of course, even if they rejected her gift, magic still lurked in their blood.

Resurfacing in those who'd accept her.

　 　 　 　 ♡ . multi-fandom content ☁️

　 　 　 　 ᛝ black ◞ 6teen? !

　 　 　 　　 ﹑𓏵　｡𓎟𓎟𓎟 𓎟𓎟 ◞　

　 　 　 　 　 masterlist ?