#not making him completely red because that's twister's Thing but probably adding some to his clothes

[duckapus]

An old drawing of Frenzy, Crown and Twister, just to get a general idea across of what they look like. Ignore that Frenzy is called "Hyper" in this, please. Again, it's an old drawing and I'll probably update their designs at some point.

[its-pronounced-quoassoint]

Power Rangers AU-Chapter 2

Pairings: romantic Logicality, Prinxiety, Demus, Remile

This Chapter features: Trans!Logan, Logan centric story line, Logan being a gay disaster for Patton, and Virgil flirting(??)

This Chapter Warnings: mild violence, food mention, panic attack mention, use of deadname, sympathetic Remus 

Credit for this AU goes to @when-day-met-the-knight (specifically this post). 

If you would like to be added to the taglist for this fic please let me know in reply!

First Next

Chapter 2-Blue

Logan was baffled as to how none of his other friends had picked up on the fact that Roman and Remus were the newest Power Rangers. The two were constantly leaving their friends the second aliens appeared, only for the Green and Red Rangers to appear in battle. Both seemed constantly distracted by news about the Dragon Witch. Whenever a battle was over, Remus and Roman reappeared, most of the time with messy hair and some bruising, one time Remus actually had to limp back to their friends. All of this is without even mentioning how the two react when the topic of the Green and Red Rangers comes up. 

Logan took a mental note of the twins' bizzarre behavior when the Rangers were brought up in conversation. 

A few days after the new Rangers first appeared Logan, Roman, and a few other friends had decided to meet up at the local grocery store to buy and eat snacks. It didn't take long for the group to bring up the Green and Red Rangers and took even less time for Roman to start completely shutting down. While their friends theorized as to who the Rangers might be, Logan observed Roman as he shut his mouth, blushed a deep red, and left. Only to return twenty minutes later.

Next, Logan noticed that whenever the Green Ranger specifically was brought up, Remus had to interject every few minutes with some form of crude compliment. This behavior wouldn't be too outlandish for Remus, but the compliments began to overlap with compliments that Remus only gave himself. 

Lastly, Logan realized that whenever Roman was asked about the Green Ranger he scoffed, much like he does when someone compares him to Remus.  While Remus, whenever the subject of the Red Ranger is brought up, crosses his arms, huffs, and falls quiet. Much like he does when someone compliments Roman and not him. 

The two were so overwhelmingly obvious about their identities as the Red and Green Rangers that Logan had to wonder if he was the only slightly intelligent person in their town. 

When Logan came to the conclusion about his friend, Roman, and friend-by-association, Remus, he accepted it, and decided not to ask. Considering neither of them could keep thier mouths shut-one of the few things the twins had in common-their reasons for not telling the whole world must be important. --- Since school had closed Logan was several times dragged from his home by overly eager friends. This day, Roman had grabbed Logan from his content atmosphere and pulled him into hanging out downtown. Logan and Roman were walking around for a few minutes while Roman chatted about The Prom yet again.

"You wanna get some ice cream from Twisters?" Roman asked. 

"At eleven in the morning?" Logan asked. 

"C'mon it's like nintey degrees!" Roman groaned.

"Roman it’s barely 70 degrees right now and-“

“Too late! I’m already buying!” Roman took a turn into the Twisters parking lot and walked up to the shop. 

“If you were going to buy one no matter what I said, why even ask?” Logan asked.

"It's courteous to at least ask." Roman explained, opening the door for Logan to walk into the ice cream shop.  

"Not if you completely disregard what the person's answer is going to be. At that point it's more courteous to not ask." Logan argued.

"Shush-shut up." Roman shushed him by shoving a hand at Logan's face. 

"How many times do I have to remind you about personal space Roman?"

"Logan shut it!" Roman whisper-yelled. 

"Why?" Logan asked. 

"Patton!” Roman whispered a half explination. He quickly went to stand in the small line, clearly trying to hide himself. 

"What?" Logan attempted to peer around his friend for a look, but was halted by Roman. "Is Patton here?"

"Definitely." Roman nodded curtly. "Don't look!"

Logan rolled his eyes and looked anyway. Roman was right. Patton Valentine sat in a small booth, typing on a laptop, and occasionally taking a spoonful of ice cream. Logan felt his face heat up drastically and he moved to hide himself in the line like Roman. 

Patton Valentine. There was something about this boy that made Logan so confused. Upon first meeting him, Logan got the impression that he was just another bright and ditzy person who would eventually escape Logan’s memories as high school finished.

Within a week that prediction was thrown out of the metaphorical window. In sixth grade Logan had deemed Patton to be his most threatening rival. A rival in what, Logan didn't know, but he was a threat nonethless and Logan had to learn everything about Patton to prepare himself for the moment he turned on Logan. 

After spending months, as Roman would call it, 'obsessing' over Patton, he realized the strong feeling he was acting on was not a competitive passion. Instead, it was a deeply developed feeling of adoration and affection. Feelings are so overrated. Logan found himself thinking as he put his hands to his face to try and stop the rush of blood that turned his skin pink. 

It was their turn to order and Roman asked the girl at the counter for a chocolate brownie double. Logan asked for a vanilla scoop with jelly on top and the two stood, waiting for their ice cream. 

"You're face is so red." Roman snorted a little and laughed. 

"Shut it." Logan mumbled, continuing to hide his face farther into his hands. "It was your idea for us to get ice cream."

"Well, I didn't know that the most popular person in the school was gonna be here." Roman seethed. "Do you really think I would have brought us here if I knew ‘Patton-I-have-5-million-subscribers-on-YouTube-Valentine’ was gonna be here!”

"Roman! Logan!" 

Logan lifted his head to see who had called their names, though he knew who it was. 

Patton was giddily waving at the two, smiling bright. Oh god that smile, Logan's brain betrayed him and quickly tried to clear his head. 

"H-hey Patton." Roman squeaked, returning the wave.  

"You two wanna sit with me?" Patton asked. 

Logan and Roman turned to each other, both exchanging a silent conversation before Roman answered. 

"Yeah sure!" 

Patton gave the two an even brighter smile and Logan felt the world sway a little. Logan and Roman were given their ice cream and went over to sit with Patton. Logan took careful glances at Patton and noticed a few things. His hair wasn’t typically so curly and his shoes weren't the regular red Vans. They were a neon light blue and reminiscent of Converse high-tops, but had a different logo. Why Patton Valentine was wearing off-brand Converse, Logan had no idea. 

"So, what were you working on?" Roman asked. At least Roman can talk. 

“Oh! Well my sister Megan works here so I get discounts on ice cream and there's free Wi-Fi. So, I figured I would get some editing done on my next video." Patton explained.

It was quiet for a beat before Logan figured he should say something to make himself less awkward.

“Um, your shoes look new.” Logan started quietly. 

“Oh yeah!” Patton brightened up and showed them off to the two. “They’re my new favorite shoes! My mom got 'em for me. She’s so sweet.”

“They look nice on you.” Logan sputtered out.

“Aww, thanks Lo! I think they look pretty snazzy.” Patton giggled. “Look, this is the best part.” 

Patton stood up and walked down the isle of the shop, Then turned and briskly walked back the way he came. Suddenly he popped back on his heels and rolled by the table with a smile.  

Heelys. He's wearing heelys. Logan thought, confounded by his own mind. Why is him wearing heelys so cute?

"You've got heelys!" Roman cheered. 

"Sure do!" Patton giggled, rolling back to their table and and sitting down.  

This doesn't make sense. They're probably the most inconvienent, childish form of footwear. Yet when he wears them, I can't think of a single reason as to why he shouldn't. Logan felt his face flush yet again as a small smile betrayed his otherwise stoic face. 

"I think I used to have a pair of-"

BOOM

Screaming and sounds of destruction sounded from across the street and everyone turned to see a breach open on the other side of the road. Minions from the Dragon Witch came flooding from the breach and began attacking everything in sight.  

"Oh gosh." Logan heard Patton whisper. "Oh no, no, no." The boy continued to trail off. 

"I-I-" Roman started. He looked at his friends helplessly before shouting out. 

"Everyone run!"

The shocked crowd followed Roman's call and proceeded to race out the back of the shop and run away. Logan looked to Patton, who seemed frozen to his seat, and sent him a pleading look. Patton looked from Logan to the monsters, then back to Logan before shakily standing up and reaching for Logan's hand. At any other time Logan would have been startled by the physical contact and, because it was Patton, could have melted into a mess of blushing and stuttering. 

However, given the situation, he instead pulled Patton along with the crowd and brought them out of the shop. 

"Are you okay?" Logan asked as they continued to run.

"Yeah, I think I'm okay, just um, just shock." Patton offered. 

Logan could tell there was something more, but decided not to press. Instead he focused on running for his life. They continued the run before Logan abruptly stopped. Causing Patton to quickly stop as well so he wouldn’t run into him.

"Roman!" Logan realized. "Roman, we're not with Roman."

"Where'd he go? I thought he was running with us!" Patton looked around, panicked.

"I-I have to go find him." Logan told Patton.

"Okay let's go-"

"No, Patton, you should keep going. I can find him on my own." Logan stated, already turning to leave.

"Logan I'm-"

"Get to safety please!" Logan dropped Patton's hand and started running. 

Patton stood staring at Logan, mystified, but did as Logan told him and ran with the crowd to a safe place.

Logan raced back to the shop in search of Roman. When he didn't find him he ran back out of the shop and around the back, only to find Roman standing there, clearly annoyed, looking around nervously. Logan was about to call out to him, but was cut off when Remus ran into the alleyway looking more deshelved than usual.

"Where have you been!?" Roman asked.

"You're not the only one with friends Roman!" Remus retorted.

"You took forever." Roman scoffed.

"You don't have to wait for me!" Remus sneered.

"And go in alone! I don't wanna get killed."

"Oh get over it!" Remus rolled his eyes dramatically and turned to the green band on his wrist. "Green Ranger, activate!!"

Roman waved his arms exasperatedly before turning to his own bracelet. "Red Ranger, activate!!"

Logan watched as the two became shrowded in bright light before revealing themselves to be their respective Rangers. The two hopped into battle and Logan watched, bewildered, yet satisfied. His theory was correct and he just watched his proof run off to fight monsters.

Logan watched the fight unfold. The Black Ranger cut down minion after minion with ease, instructing the other two occasionally. Roman used his sword to bring his enemies to dust and yell at Remus to follow some 'plan'. Remus apparently wasn't following any plan, but still got the job done by smacking monsters with his spiked mace. The minions' numbers seemed to be dwindling, until the breach closed completely and all minions were destroyed. Logan thought the three would fall back and change back out of their Ranger armor, but instead they stood there. Waiting. Then Logan saw it, a clouded black figure appeared on top of the building.

"Prince Virgilius!" Roman addressed the figure.

"Sup Red!" This 'Prince Virgilius' nodded.

Remus snickered, but stopped abruptly when Roman gave him a look.

"You can't keep doing this!" Roman told him.

"You’re so formal Red. Maybe you should lighten up a bit. Don’t be such a copy-paste protagonist! " Virgilius groaned, leaning back.

"You are really formal." Remus agreed. 

"Remus-I-just-ah," Roman stuttered a response. "Shut up!" 

Eloquient as ever. Logan thought.

Suddenly Virgilius disappeared and reappeared next to Roman, making him scream and jump back. 

"Is that like your one trick. Popping up like a creepy villain?!" 

"It still gets you so, yeah." Virgilius shurgged and disappeared yet again. 

"Can't you take any of this seriously?!" Roman yelled to nothing. 

"I mean I could." Virgilius yelled back from a top the ice cream shop. The three Rangers turned. "But you just look so cute when you're mad."

"You can't see my face." Roman pointed out. 

"Can we just get on with it please?” The Black Ranger shouted tearing away their attention. 

“Yeah seriously, the flirting never gets us anywhere.” Remus stated, annoyance dripping from his voice.

He chucked the mace at Virgilius who disappeared before it could hit him. 

"Ugh." Remus growled at the area his mace had missed. 

Logan watched as the weapon disappated into green light, only to reappear back in Remus's hand. The three closed together and began looking around for the prince, but no one was found. 

"Fan out a little." Roman told the other two. 

The Black and Green Rangers nodded and the three split off. Each taking wary steps in different directions, guards up. Logan looked around as well, the hairs on his arms standing up. 

A bright flash caught his attention and Logan saw a purple fireball headed straight for Roman. Logan ran from his hiding place and called for Roman to run. The Red Ranger looked his way and Logan tackled his friend to the ground, both of them barely missing the fire ball. 

"Logan what are you doing!" Roman shoved Logan away. "You're going to get yourself killed!"

"I just saved your life you ungrateful-" Logan suddenly felt something clasp around his wrist. He looked down. 

A bracelet. A simple, fine chain that was glowing brighter by the second. 

“Logan!” Roman gasped. “I need you to yell ‘Blue Ranger, activate!’. Now! Do it now!

“I-uh-okay. Um, Blue Ranger, activate!!” Logan let out the words and looked at Roman pleadingly.

Logan was then enveloped by the light and left in a blank world. Armor began covering his body and a blue lance shimmered into existence in front of him. Logan felt his body react before his mind, and he grabbed the lance. 

The world came back into view. Logan was standing tall as Roman looked at him excitedly. Logan turned around to see the Green and Black Rangers also staring at him. 

He didn’t know what it was, but Logan felt a sense of completeness rush through him. He looked around, a little unsure of what to do, but the other Rangers joined him, standing by his side, ready to defeat the prince.

“Oh come on!! Seriously?!” Prince Virgilius exclaimed in frustration. “Gods help me. How many more of you are there?!”

Logan looked at the other Rangers, waiting a response.

“Our numbers are growing Virgilius! Yours will only dwindle from here! Give up now!” Roman pointed his sword at the enemy.

“Wow.” Virgilius sighed. “I don’t like you.” 

“The feeling is mutual.” Roman nodded. “Remus, now!”

Remus chucked his mace at the Prince yet again, only for him to disappear. The Rangers closed ranks yet again, standing back to back, at the ready. Suddenly Virgilius appeared a while away and shot a fireball right at the Black Ranger. Logan swung his lance, stopping the fireball before it could hit the other Ranger.

"Welcome to the team." The Black Ranger told him.

---

Logan was on his way home, and reviewing the information he had been told earlier.

Mr. Sanders-or Thomas as Logan was told to call him-was the Black Ranger. He had been Logan’s guidance counsellor all through high school. Thomas had told Logan about Prince Virgilius and how had been the general of the Dragon Witch’s army for the past few years and proved himself to be as dangerous as the Dragon Witch herself. 

Logan was supposed to go back to Thomas’s house tomorrow with Roman and learn more about the morphers and their power. Thomas didn’t want to overwhelm Logan with all of Ranger history, so he sent Logan home.

Logan examined the bracelet that was now wrapped around his wrist. The material it was made of swirled randomly like a kaleidoscope. Logan could stare at it all day, trying to find a pattern. 

As he approached his house Logan took a deep breath, ready for what was about to come.

“Maddie!” The voice of his little sister called out from the door. “Maddie come on! Lauren’s trying to make dinner and Mama's on FaceTime!”

“I’m coming Nora.” Logan replied.

He walked up to the house and into the kitchen where it looked like his sister was preparing food. 

“Maddie, I swear Lauren’s gonna poison us again if you don’t get over there.”

“Hey!” Lauren protested. “I’m a good cook.”

“Not as good as Maddie though.” Nora said as she passed by.

“Is that Maddie?” The voice is Logan’s mother came from an iPad that was set up in FaceTime. “How’s my favorite daughter?”

“I’m good Mama.” Logan told her. 

She couldn’t see it, but Logan’s expression immediately fell as he turned away. With his mom’s job constantly moving her from hotel to hotel, it became easier to avoid coming out to her.

“You know, we’re right here.” Lauren pointed out to her mom.

“Well you’re also the biggest thorns in my side at the moment.” Mama sighed. “Now do what your sister says so she can make dinner.”

Lauren groaned but turned to Logan expectantly.

“Can you just dry off that pan? I’ll make chicken soup and bread.” Logan sighed.

“Sounds great Madds.” Nora called from the couch

“Oh I wish I was there.” Mama sighed. 

“We know Mama.” Lauren told her.

“I’m gonna have to turn this thing off and head to bed, but you kids stay safe okay. I heard there was an attack earlier today. I’m just happy none of you got hurt.” Logan’s mom began shuffling papers near her.

“Mama, you don’t have to worry.” Nora yelled from the couch. “The Rangers are here to protect us you know!”

“Well thanks for that.” Mama rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’m about three hours ahead of you so I’ve really gotta go. Get home earlier Maddie, maybe I’ll actually be able to talk to you!”

“You got it Mama.” Logan smiled at her, and waved goodbye.

She cut the call and Logan turned to his sisters. 

“You’re never gonna tell Mama are you Lo?” Lauren asked sadly, not facing him. “You know she’d be okay with it.”

“Lauren I haven't had the proper chance. I also must point out we don't actually know if she will be okay with me being transgender.”

“If she doesn’t accept you then we’re running away from here. You’re getting into a fancy college and becoming some sort of millionaire.” Lauren finally faced him. “Logan, we’ve got you.”

“I know Laurie. It’s just not the right time.” Logan sighed. 

“Alright. That’s okay, I don’t wanna pressure you. I mean it I really don’t. It’s just, she’s gonna start asking questions when she gets home. I don’t want you to go through another panic attack because you aren’t wearing a binder in front of Mama.”

“Lauren.” Nora chastised from the couch. “Would you lay off him.”

“I-I’m sorry Logan. I just-well you-oh-you know what I’m trying to say! I don’t want you to go through that again. I mean you’ve been doing so well this year and it’s the year Mama’s been around the least.” 

“Lauren, I know what you’re trying to say.” Logan sighed. “I’ll be okay. I know I can go to you if I get overwhelmed when she gets home.”

Lauren nodded and went back to drying off the recently washed pan.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound insensitive Lo. I really didn't." Lauren started again. "But you know you can't keep this up much longer. She's gonna find out and it's better that it came from you."

"I'm aware."

"Lauren would you just drop it!" Nora called from the couch.

"Okay. I-I," Lauren sighed. "okay. I'm sorry."

"It's natural for you to be worried Lauren, don't feel bad." Logan tried to reassure her.

"Just know when to stop." Nora chided.

It fell quiet after that.

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@the-smol-est 

[queenxxxsupreme]

I wanna hear more abt ur inspiration for darceria

Omg I love love love this question so much!! Also I apologize for how long this is. I just really loved this💕

So with Darceria I had been messing around with characters in my head the second I decided I wanted to write a fic about my baby Geralt (which happened to be when I was watching Betrayer Moon). At first, she wasn't an oracle because I hadn't even thought of that, of making that group of essentially magical beings. I'll explain that a little later. She was originally really insignificant. She wasn't a princess of a fallen kingdom, she wasn't blind, she could see the future. She was bland and I didn't like that. I wanted more. I wanted to make her more interesting and give her shape and definition.

So from there, I made her blind. I have shitty eye sight myself and it's progressively getting worse so I was sort of playing off of that. I've messed with blind characters before and when I say that I mean that I have written out different characters with different personalities, different traits, and different love interests that all were blind. None of those characters were lucky enough to make it further than rough drafts and charts and essentially they've been left in two binders that I keep with all my ideas for characters and plots and fics because seriously I think of new ideas every day and if I acted on impulse more than I already did, I'd have an insanely high amount of fan fics going at once.

(Fun fact, Wattpad is where I started and at one point on that platform I had close to fifteen stories going at once. That number has since been cut to ten after I finished a few stories. Yes I have an issue and yes I acknowledge it 😂🙈🤦‍♀️)

So back to Darceria. I decided to make her blind because I knew it would be difficult to write for her and I love the challenge. I also knew her being in the time period and the society she is in would introduce quite a few conflicts just because of her being blind and conflicts/problems are what drive stories in my opinion.

The oracle half of her character came from a relatively new idea I had in the last year for a Sam Winchester x OC fic. The character was blind and could see the future but how she saw the future was more prophetic and more physical. She'd have nose bleeds and she'd cough up blood and wake up covered in blood in her sleep. That physical part ended up turning into a character for a Pietro Maximoff x OC fic I have going on Wattpad right now. That character just isn't blind.

But when I thought of giving Darceria some sort of supernatural-y power, seeing the future came to mind. I thought it would really really awesome to take her sight but give her the ability to see the future. Sort of poetic/sort of psychotic on my half 😂

Oracle means a few different things but the meaning I took it as was a priest or priestess acting as a medium through whom advise or advise was sought from the gods. I really liked this so I started messing around with what an oracle would look like in the world of the Witcher. I thought about how an oracle would be useful and the first thing that came to my mind was a mage. Mages are advisors to kings and queens. They are heavily knowledged in science/magic and politics. Rulers depend on them for a lot and seek their advise. We saw in season 1 how important mages were to rulers. I highly doubt that without Fringilla's help Nilfgaard wouldn't have gotten as far as they did or it would have taken them much much longer to do so.

I sort of created oracles as the sister to the witch. They naturally have visions, naturally see things that have yet to happen. They have instincual feelings that they can trust. Like when it comes to chosing maybe going down this road or that road, they can sense which would be the wiser choice. It's a part of who they are genetically. But they also have strong magic genes too. They can cast spells to help see the future and that sort of thing. The oracles are just focused more on seeing the future and preserving the kingdom for the long run. (I have so much I want to say about this last sentence because of Darceria and her role in the fall of Romavek but EEK I CAN'T SPOIL)

I wanted to make oracles rare, to make them less known than witches and mages because having just anyone be an oracle would suck the fun out of it in my opinion. So I made it so that oracles are born every half century. They are also extremely rare in the story just for the simple fact that Romavek is the only known place to ever inhabit oracles. Romavek was very secretive and very solitary, even more so than Cintra. Romaveks (as we will see in future updates) very rarely left their country, their kingdom. They had no reason to. They didn't participate in wars unless absolutely necessary. I won't go much further into detail about that because I don't want to accidentally spoil anything.

I also wanted Darceria to be important, to have a destiny of her own that didn't involve Geralt entirely. So that's how I decided she'd be an oracle, a super important piece to Romavek culture and hierarchy.

When I was messing with her characterization, I played around before she was an oracle about the possibility of her being royalty. We know Geralt has sort of a bad habit of finding princesses and rescuing them/killing them (RIP Renfri my baby). So I thought hey what if she's a princess. Well then I saw quite a few different little stories where the OC or reader was a princess to a currently ruling country like Cintra or Kovir or some made up country. Whatever. So I was like well damn I don't want my story to be just another Geralt x princess!OC stories.

So she became a blind princess born with the gifts of an oracle.

As for her personality, I really like writing soft characters who know when to be tough. I am also a sucker for just writing asshole characters. Luckily, Darceria was not an asshole character of mine. She's soft and and she's quiet. She's observant and careful and nurturing. She doesn't like being babied or treated like she's nothing more than her disability. She's very independent but at the same time, she relies heavily on Zephyrina at times. Darceria is also cunning. She uses her disability to her advantage when needed. Like in the proglue, we see her faking being completely blind when she runs into Thominson and spills his drink on him. She fakes being more blind than she actually is to anger him, to get him out of the room. Also she has a very upsetting childhood. Though she was a princess in a thriving kingdom, her childhood is sad and depressing and tragic in a sense. Again we will see more in the future 🙈 I don't want to spoil anything!!

She's observant even though she is blind and she is observant through her other senses. Her "sight" as she explained to Ciri in chapter 1(I think) is very similar to how the creators and writers of Daredevil wrote how he sees in season 1 of Daredevil on Netflix. He sees fire. Darceria sees shapes of objects through sound and she feels them when she touches. Her senses are highly advanced, very much like Matt Murdock/Daredevil.

And as for her physical appearance, the white eyes was something that I thought was really cool. I was watching Supernatural when I saw Abbadon's eyes flicker to white. I thought it would be super cool for Geralt to come across a being with eyes that are different than everyone else's. He could sympathize with her, with how everyone stares at her when they see that her eyes are empty and white.

I absolutely love dark red curly hair (@ Natasha Romanoff) I hadn't seen very many redheads in the first season with the exception of Visenna (Geralt's mom) and Coral, the ginger mage who clenched her fist and kills an entire squadron of Nilfgaardian soldiers at the Battle of Sodden. So when I think of Darceria, I usually picture Scarlett Johannson as Natasha Romanoff in Iron Man 3. (fun Fact: Zephyrina's face in my head looks like Adelaide Kane)

Dareceria's name came to me in a really funny way. I was researching different midieval names and when I didn't like any of those names. Then I came across Daria. It's Polish and means kingly. I didn't like how close it was to Dara so I started adding different things to the end of the name. There was Darialene but that was what too much of a tongue twister and didn't flow off the tongue as nicely as I wanted it to. Dariara came across and in my head I pronounced it Dar-ee-air-ee-uh. So it's not that hard to pronounce but again when you say it out loud it doesn't flow nicely. Then I changed the name completely to something else entirely. Then I went back to Daria and started messing with it more. I messed with it for probably three days before finding Darceria. I personally think it fits in well with the names in the show.

I'm so glad you asked this @wayward-dream !!! I really really loved answering this💕💕sorry it ended up being so long though! I hope I answered you properly and I hope this makes sense!! Ask more questions if you need to please!!! I love answering this

[searchingwardrobes]

Twister AU: Ch 6/7

This chapter has very little plot and no tornados, but I have a feeling you’ll all like it anyway *wink wink* It also explains more of Emma and Killian’s back story together after they became orphans. I have had this chapter brainstormed for so long, I was dying to get to it and share it!

Rating: T for peril in most of the story, but in this chapter the T is more for other “stuff” . . .

You can read this from the beginning along with my AUs of The Fugitive and Adventures in Babysitting on Ao3

Tagging @shipsxahoy @shady-swan-jones @tiganasummertree @bethacaciakay @artistic-writer @teamhook @kmomof4 @cat-sophia @hollyethecurious @coliferoncer @thejacketandthehook @dassala @branlovesouat @allofdafandoms-blog @flslp87 @pocket-anon @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @jennjenn615

  The sound of the camper coming to a screeching halt behind them caused Killian to pull away from her. He turned his back on his team and paced several steps away, his head in his hands. Once the others jumped out of the camper, he had composed himself. Yet he gave Emma a wobbly smile and squeezed her hand.

“It didn’t work,” Ruby muttered, going straight for the machine, “it still didn’t work!”

“It was only an F2, boss,” Smee spoke up, removing his red cap and twisting it in his hands, “smaller than the last one. Maybe it just wasn’t strong enough to take her.”

Killian patted Smee reassuringly on the shoulder as he walked past, headed for the truck. Wordlessly, he climbed in, then rested his forehead on the steering wheel. Emma’s heart ached as she watched him.

“What’s up with him?” Ruby asked.

Emma shook her head. “Nothing. Let’s just get this thing back in the truck.”

Smee and Ruby stood there dumbly in the road watching her.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” said Ruby hesitantly.

“He just needs a minute, alright?” Emma snapped, and the two of them rushed to help her with DOT.

Once they got the machine loaded, Emma said nothing as she climbed into the passenger seat. Killian simply took his right hand off the steering wheel to reach over and grab hers. Emma just stared at their intertwined fingers.

“Uh, boss.”

Smee was standing at the driver’s side window, his hat practically in knots. He never did like it when Killian got moody. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“We’re only 15 minutes away from Laverty, and um . . . Ruby thought Granny would like to see Emma, so . . . “ the man shuffled his feet.

Emma leaned over the console after feeling the slightest pressure from Killian’s fingers. She glanced at him long enough to see the tiniest glimmer in his eyes.

“Sure, Smee,” she told him, “it’s been way too long since I’ve been home.”

As Smee turned, whooping as he ran to the camper with the good news, Killian turned to Emma with a smile on his lips. He brushed a kiss to her knuckles before starting the truck.

“Home. You don’t know how much it means to hear you use that word, Swan.”

*****************************************************

Her room still hadn’t changed. The walls were still painted a pale yellow, the same white daisy wallpaper border at the top. The frilly white curtains with the pattern of tiny buttercups still fluttered at the window. She still remembered when she was eleven and Granny had just finished decorating it. She had asked Emma for her favorite color and flower. “They didn’t have buttercup wallpaper,” she had apologized, “so I hope you like daisies.”

Granny had asked to adopt her. Killian, too. But neither one of them wanted to let go of the families they had lost, not completely, and Granny had understood. But decorating this room just for Emma had been her way of saying that no matter what her birth certificate said, Emma was home.

She had been nervous coming here. When she ran and hid from Killian, it meant hiding from Ruby and Granny too. They hadn’t known about Henry either. But just like Ruby, Granny didn’t get angry. She just hugged Emma tight and insisted she sit down immediately and show her every picture she had of her new grandbaby.

“Don’t you mean great grandbaby?” Killian had teased, earning him a glare over their foster mother’s bifocals. They only called her Granny because Ruby did. Though she was more like a mother to Ruby than a grandmother too, having raised her since Ruby’s mother died of a drug overdose at seventeen.

Emma shimmied out of her blue jeans and slipped into a pair of pajama shorts. Then she pulled her thin sweater over her head and tossed it on the floor too. Then she unhooked her bra, maneuvered it out from under her tank top and added it to the pile in the corner. Killian always lectured her about her messy habits. His room down the hall was always kept so clean it would have passed a military inspection.

She wondered idly as she slipped between the cool sheets if his room looked the same too; navy walls with that anchor wallpaper border. He used to dream of the ocean, hadn’t he? Yet here he still was in the landlocked Midwest. She ached for him to let go, and not just for her and Henry.

Emma rolled onto her back and flung her arm over her forehead. The ceiling fan was still the same too – that faux white wicker. It always made a funny whistling sound as the air passed through the gaps in the wood. She remembered lying in Killian’s arms as the sun came up, the slow movements of the fan casting shadows on the wall. She remembered him trailing kisses down her bare shoulder and laughing about what an impractical ceiling fan it was. Funny the tiny details a person remembers. She rolled over on her side to face the wall. This room hadn’t changed, and that fact made her heart race with so many memories. It was the same bed, too. She had grown up in this bed; in more ways than one.

She wasn’t surprised when she heard the door slowly creak open or when the bed dipped behind her. Then his arms were around her, and she felt herself finally relax into the mattress. He pulled her closer, and she didn’t resist. It was all so easy to fall back into.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Killian mumbled into her hair, nuzzling his nose against her neck.

Emma snorted. “We said goodnight like ten minutes ago. I don’t think you tried.”

His arm shifted to her hip and she rolled over on her back to face him. He smiled down at her, propping his head on his other hand. The one at her hip made lazy circles, fiddling with the fabric that barely skimmed her thigh. It sent shivers through her that she tried to ignore.

“I’ve never slept very well in that room,” he told her. Then his smile turned more salacious. “I’ve always preferred your bed.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “When you think about this bed, you aren’t thinking about sleeping.”

Killian chuckled, his hand drifting up to her waist. His fingers teased with the hem of her shirt. “Hmm, we did make a lot of memories in this bed.”

“Killy!’ she gasped, smacking him in the chest.

“Ow!” he protested, rubbing at the spot where she hit him, “I was thinking about when we were kids, for your information.”

“Right. You mean when we were fourteen and sixteen, and you finally made it to second base right before Granny barged in?”

He groaned a bit melodramatically as he rolled backwards onto the pillow. “Don’t remind me. That was the most humiliating moment of my life!”

Emma, rolled over too, propping her chin up on his bare chest. Maybe not the smartest idea, but everything with Killian was just so natural , it was almost subconcsiou. “Just humiliating?” she teased.

He grinned down at her and winked. “No. Also glorious and life changing, and God you have gorgeous breasts!”

She bit her lower lip, and that probably wasn’t conscious either. Maybe. “At fourteen? I doubt it.”

“Oh, but they were,” he told her in a completely sincere voice.

He rubbed his hand up and down her back, and she was suddenly aware of every point where their bodies touched, especially her breasts pressed against his chest with only the thin fabric of her tank top between their skin. She swallowed and pulled away from him, pulling the blanket up as she rested back against her pillow. But Killian wasn’t letting her get away quite so easily. He rolled on his side so he could look down at her again. He reached down and traced her jaw with his fingertip.

“But,” he told her softly, “being completely serious, I also remember being a scared kid of twelve who hadn’t slept since he lost his father and brother on the same day. And then you came, this beautiful but sad little girl, and we understood one another. I heard you crying that first night, the same way I still did each night. So I snuck in here, and –“

“You said it’s okay to cry; I cry too.” Emma took a deep breath, remembering Killian as a scrawny kid, standing in her doorway with his hair sticking up on his head.

“You reached your hand out,” he continued, “and you asked me to stay with you.”

His fingers were in her hair now, and her resolve was crumbling. He had stayed that night, her first night in this room; had lain there next to her, a little awkwardly, holding her hand until she fell asleep. He came to her room almost every night, unbeknownst to Granny. Some nights he tiptoed back to his own room, but other nights he stayed. His awkwardness eventually melted away. He would read to her by the light of a flashlight, giggle with her under the covers as they planned how to get back at the bullies at school, or sit by the window as he taught her all the constellations. He shared memories about his brother, and she would tell him about her parents.

And one night, when she was thirteen, something shifted. He was suddenly looking at her the way he was right now, his fingers finding their way to her hair. He whispered how beautiful she was, and then his lips were on hers, chaste and slightly awkward. And it was here that he had held her and told her in between kisses that he loved her and always would.

When she was sixteen, he slipped into her room after his high school graduation. She had wanted to give herself to him completely, but he was afraid she was too young. It wasn’t their first fight, but probably their worst one. She was scared, terrified, that he would forget her while away at college. Get too mature for her, and never come home again.

But he had proved her wrong. Love letters weren’t really a thing anymore. For everyone but Killian Jones, that is. Because he wrote her. Not just emails, but actual letters that came in the mail. Poetic, beautiful things in his ridiculously pretty handwriting. Granny of course commented on how overly dramatic it was since he drove home to see her practically every weekend. She was always calling Killian dramatic.

And when he came home for Thanksgiving, as Granny served his welcome home dinner, Emma had leaned over and whispered in his ear what she was planning for him that night in her room. She ran her hand up his thigh to punctuate her point. He almost choked on his iced tea and kicked the table so hard that Granny’s lasagna almost went sliding to the floor. She giggled now at the memory.

“What?” he asked her in the present, his fingers still entangled in her hair.

“I’m just remembering things,” she told him, reaching up to touch his scar. The one he got when the barn door hit him beneath the overpass when he was twelve. He turned his face to kiss her palm, and something broke open and unfurled inside of her chest.

“Emma,” he breathed.

She slid her hand up to dig her fingers through his hair and pull him down to her. Their lips slid over each other in a familiar dance, and Emma sighed into it, her lips parting to let him in. His hands traced the curves of her body, his touch igniting her in a way no one else ever could. Her back arched up off the mattress as his mouth latched onto her neck and his hand slipped up her shirt, cupping her breast.

“Killian,” she gasped.

She meant to say something else; about how she just broke off an engagement to another man, how they couldn’t just pick back up where they left off, how they hadn’t really finished their earlier conversation. Talk. She meant to say they should talk. But instead she peeled off her tank top and added it to the pile on the floor.

[thestoryweneededtowrite]

Could you write more about Sprace and the rest of the newsies? I love how you characterize them and would love to see how their interactions change when they're with other people. OOOO and maybe them going back to being just the two of them at the end? I don't know I'm just throwing ideas out at this point.

This is a super old prompt so I’m sorry it took so long! Hope it’s okay ^.^

Tw: slurs.

As soon as the doorbell rang Spot yanked Race closer and kissedhim like it was a Pavlovian response. Race yelped in surprise – he’d been justabout to get up and answer the door - but as soon as he realised what was happeninghe grinned and kissed back. This wasn't anything he ever turned down.

“That’s not what the doorbell means,” he mumbled, barelymoving far enough away from Spot to form words.“Shut up,” Spot said. Kissing was more important than talking.

He knew they should have been opening the door, but he justwanted a few extra seconds with Race before they invited all their friends intotheir apartment for the evening. He didn’t mind them being there but it meanthe couldn’t touch Race all night. It wasn’t that they weren’t out and honestwith the friends that they were dating, Spot just didn’t feel comfortable beingaffectionate with anyone watching. So he wanted that one last kiss for a fewhours.

When another knock came, Spotsighed and pulled away. They couldn’t make Jack and Davey and Crutchie andKatherine and everyone else wait outside forever. He gave Race one last,lingering kiss and went to let them in.

 —– 

Game night was as competitive as always. By the time Jackhad won at Mario Kart, Katherine had won at Twister and Mush had complainedabout losing everything, Spot was miserable.  Their apartment was the one and only place hefelt free to be sappy and adorable and cute and all the things he’d hated untilhe had someone to do it with. Every time Race made a face at whatever game hewasn’t winning at Spot wanted to kiss him to cheer him up. Instead he sulked, becausehis friends knew him as the stoic Spot Conlon, who did not kiss his boyfriendto make him smile. So he clenched his hands into fists and pouted. It was finewhen they were at someone else’s place – if he wasn’t at home then he alwaysresigned himself to not touching Race anyway. But their apartment was supposedto be the one place where guards and walls didn’t have to stay up. He lovedtheir friends but he’d worked hard to reconcile the apartment as somewhere hecould be comfortable.

As if the world had something against him, that’s when the snowstorm began. Only by the time anyone looked out the window, there was already ablanket of white covering everything and getting home suddenly became a bigproblem.

Race gave what he thought was the obvious answer.

“It’s fine, guys. You can stay. Can’t they, Spot?” he said,smiling as if that wasn’t the worst thing Spot could have imagined. But Spotcouldn’t say that in front of hisfriends so he gritted his teeth and nodded. Race just continued, not noticing Spot’sannoyance. “We don’t exactly have enough beds but we can make it work.”

There was a brief conversation that Spot was hardlylistening to in which they decided Crutchie should got the only bed in theapartment for the night since sleeping on the hard floor made his leg ache. Itmade sense, Spot had to admit that, but his apartment and his privacy and nowhis bed weren’t his for the night anymore and it made him more uncomfortablethan he wanted to admit. He got to his feet and all but stalked out of the roomto hide out in the kitchen, not bothering to excuse himself.

Race watched him go, confused. He hadn’t been acting normallyall night and it was starting to get worrying. It was only a few seconds beforehe climbed off the sofa and followed his boyfriend.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” he asked gently, finding Spotwith his head in his hands and his elbows on the kitchen work surface.

Spot turned, flinching away like he’d touched something hot.“Nothing,” he mumbled, fooling no one.

Crossing the room carefully, Race put a hand on Spot’sshoulder and was almost shocked by how much tension he was carrying there. “You usually like game nights…? And these are our friends. You like them,” hesaid, trying to work out what was getting to Spot so much.

It took a little coaxing to get Spot to stand up straightand give in to a hug. As soon as Race wrapped his arms around him it was likepermission to let his guards down, burrowing close and hiding his face againstRace’s shoulder.“I also like it when they leave,” he explained. When Race didn’t reply it wasclear he needed to elaborate. “I miss you,” he added, hoping that would beenough.

It wasn’t. Race didn’t understand – Spot had him. He wasrunning his fingers through Spot’s hair as they spoke, he couldn’t be anycloser if he tried.“I’m right here,” he said, pushing Spot back a little so he could look him inthe eyes and try to find the answer there.“I know but… I can’t…” Spot stammered, looking down. He wasn’t good at this. “Notwhile they’re here. I want to kiss you and… and hold you.”

His cheeks were burning red from embarrassment and it wasonly Race he was talking to. For his entire life he’d had his brain hardwirednot to show emotion, not to admit vulnerability. He may have made some headwaywith Race to undoing all that, but he was by no means completely secure insharing things like this and it was very much only Race he could do it with.“They won’t care,” Race reasoned, rubbing small circles into Spot’s upper armswith his thumbs. He knew Spot was still sore about sharing emotions, but theirfriends were not going to care if they kissed. Blink and Mush spent most gamesnights in each other’s laps, Jack would give Davey a little congratulatory kisswhen either of them won a game. They were probably the gayest, most affectionategathering in Brooklyn.“I will,” Spot protested. It didn’tmatter what their friends said, he’d still be worrying that deep down they werejudging him. Weak. Wuss. Faggot. Thelast one had him wincing when it came to mind – it was unmistakably his father’svoice still lurking at the back of his mind. The inflection was identical tothe word he’d had hurled at him when he was growing up and did anything thathis father considered un-masculine. Spot could have laughed if he wasn’t sotense – if his father could see him now… comforted by his boyfriend in thekitchen of their shared apartment.

“Relax. It’s okay,” Race whispered.

He pressed a kiss to Spot’s lips, and then another. After athird he stepped back and gave Spot a reassuring smile. He got it. It wasn’t niceto have their personal space invaded, even when the invaders were invited andtheir friends, especially when they valued it so much. The impromptu sleepoverdefinitely didn’t help matters. Spot liked to cuddle in his sleep, somethingRace had promised he’d take to the grave, and he wasn’t going to enjoy lying onthe hard floor of the living room without his usual pillow of his boyfriend’schest.

“I know it sucks, but I’ll make it up to you,” Racepromised, squeezing Spot’s hands and smiling when he got a small nod in return.“Come on,” he said, tugging him back to their friends.

Spot sighed, but he went. One night wasn’t too bad. It wasn’tgoing to be fun, but he’d survive.

[melindacoulson4]

Her Name is Lucy

Chapter 3 of My legacy, my responsibility

You can read the first two chapters here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9712349/chapters/21909119

Alright, alright you guys convinced me to do another one, but remember that you asked for this….

Dedicated to you wonderful people for your encouraging comments on the last chapter : @timelesstheories, @tsscat, @victoria-tonks @anovel-notion @something-in-the-way-she-knows @justflyingkites

BEEEEEP.

BEEEEEP.

BEEEEEP. 

"Ughhhh." He hears the groan of disgust behind him. 

Their alarm clock was extremely obnoxious. But, he specifically bought it for that reason. Otherwise, Lucy would never wake up. Waking up in the morning was always a struggle to her. 

He's lying face up in their bed with thick, fluffy blankets cocooning him in warmth. Lucy is somewhere to his right. He can't see where she is. All he can see is strands of dark curls peeking out from under the top comforter. 

She always tended to roll around in her sleep. Sometimes he would wake up and she would be wrapped up in all of the blankets at the end of the bed. Other times she would practically be on top of him. It was always a surprise to see where she would end up once they woke up in the morning. 

He can hear her shifting underneath the blankets, slowly moving towards him. One of her arms wraps around his middle and she curls her hand so that it is pressed between his back and the mattress. Her fingers are freezing like always. 

"Mmmmph. I never want to get up," she mumbles into his t-shirt, nuzzling her face into the warmth between his arm and chest. 

He breathes deeply, inhaling the scent of her curls. It's sweet and fruity just like her shampoo. 

This is his favorite thing. Just having her body pressed against his own in their bed. He can feel the light exhales of breath from her nose against his arm. She's definitely going to fall back asleep and if he's not careful the comfort of her body will lull him back to sleep too. Now, she's making him never want to get up. This feels perfect, almost like a dream. 

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. 

The alarm blares again, startling him. He doesn't remember setting two alarms to go off within such a short amount of time. Lucy probably did it. After all, she's the one that needs six separate alarms in order to drag herself out of bed. Normally, she sets the two alarms on the clock on her bedside table. Then, she sets four alarms on her cell phone, which also rests on her bedside table. 

The usual routine was for him to wake up at the sound of the first alarm and hop in the shower. Meanwhile, she continues to sleep until the second alarm wakes her up. At least, that's how she always planned it. It didn't always work out quite that well. That's why she had the four backup alarms. 

He lifts his head off of the pillow, looking over Lucy's head to check the time on the clock. 

7:05 am

They were late. No time for a shower at moment. He would take one after his morning walk. 

He lowers his lips to the top of Lucy's head of hair and kisses her gently, then rolls out of bed. 

"I'll make the coffee," he says, although he doubts she heard him. 

She makes a little noise of protest in response, something between a grunt and a whine. She's already started to burrow herself completely within the sea of blankets again.  

He smiles adoringly at her small form underneath it all. 

The air is chilly outside of their bed, causing a shiver to run through his body. This winter was a bitter one.

He shuffles towards the door and decides to leave it wide-open as he enters the hallway. Hoping the noise would eventually rouse Lucy from her hibernation. 

He makes his way to the end of the hall. First stop, the door to his left. It's halfway open. He peaks his head in and is stunned by the mess. It looks like a rainbow exploded in here. Barbie dolls cover at least half of the carpeted floor. There are books scattered everywhere. Some are cracked open like they were abandoned mid-read. Almost every item in here is brightly colored, yet pink is the main color that stands out.

There are four pieces of paper laid out in a row near the foot of the bed covered in paint. One piece of artwork depicts a picture of: an orange house, a blue man, a red woman, a pink child, and a yellow sun in the top corner. He assumes that’s supposed to be their family. As for the other pictures, he can't quite make out what they are. 

Their daughter was a creative child. The creativity, he appreciates. The mess, he does not appreciate. 

He pushes at the wooden door, causing it to creak as it swings open. This all has no effect on the sleeping child wrapped up in blankets, exactly like his wife. He tiptoes through the maze of toys and books, taking extra precautions not to step on anything. 

"Time to wake up, sunshine," he says softly. 

His words have no effect on the tiny six year old. At least, that's what he thought until a sudden cry of protest emanates from underneath the blankets. 

"You can do it. Come on. You'll live," he softly encourages. He begins tugging the blankets back, freezing when Kate's head pops up. 

Her hair is matted as if she had been caught in a twister. 

"I'll do it myself!" She yells in protest. 

It's almost surprising that so much noise could come from such a small person. 

So, it was going to be that type of morning. Wonderful. 

"Okay. Okay," he relents, while slowly backing out of the room. 

He jogs down the stairs, each step creaking under his weight. When he enters the kitchen he's instantly blasted with another chilly wave over his body. It's freezing down here. 

He walks over to the wall and taps the up arrow on the thermostat. Hopefully, it would heat up just a little bit before his girls come down for breakfast. 

A movement outside the window closest to him catches his eye. 

They decided to brighten up their kitchen when they bought this house eight years ago, which meant adding more windows. They added a total of five windows in this room. The windows are all tall and wide making their view of the backyard spectacular and convenient. When Kate was outside they could be standing or cooking in the kitchen and track her every move.

In the summer, the windows allowed for so much light to shine into the house, which complemented the white marble countertops in the kitchen. 

Looking out the window now, he can see icicles dangling off of the side of the roof. It's beginning to snow again, like it had been for the last three mornings. Five feet of snow had already accumulated on the ground. It wasn't enough to delay Kate's elementary school, which upset her. She had been hoping for a snow day, so that she could run around in their backyard making snow angels and snowmen. 

Well, she's going to get her wish if she doesn't get out of bed and ready for school within the next five minutes. 

He has to get a move on here. He pulls his attention away from the winter scenery outside and towards the coffee maker, which was another thing that got him up in the mornings. When he and Lucy first started dating and spending nights, then naturally mornings with each other he discovered her love for coffee. 

That was always the first thing she did after waking up. She would barely even speak before she took a sip of her coffee. It was endearing. That was one of the things that made it so easy for him to fall in love with her. 

He pops the lid on the coffee container and instantly inhales the intoxicating smell. It was Lucy's favorite. She had fantastic taste in coffee and dragged him into her addiction. He already felt a small burst in energy just by smelling the ground up beans.

As he waits for the coffee to brew, he finally hears the familiar pitter-patter of tiny feet coming down the wooden stairs. 

He walks over to the refrigerator and takes the gallon of milk out. Then, he reaches a hand up and pulls down Kate's favorite plastic bowl, which is the red one. Last week, he tried giving her the blue one with her cereal in it, which caused a meltdown. Kate cried, she was late to school, and it caused a fight between him and Lucy. All caused by the color of a bowl. Well, he definitely learned his lesson. 

He pours the box of frosted cheerios into the red bowl, then adds a small amount of milk. 

He turns around and greets his daughter. "Good morning," he says in a cheery, singsong voice. 

"No," she pouts while pulling herself onto one of the wooden chairs belonging to the kitchen table. 

"Someone is just like mommy in the mornings," he teases. 

Wyatt places the small bowl in front of her. He doesn't get a thank you, but he does receive a glare. He tries not to laugh in response. Kate's cheeks are puffed up and she has her arms crossed over her chest.  She is so adorable. 

They both turn their heads towards the creaking of the stairs, watching as Lucy steps into the kitchen. 

She's basically swimming in a giant sweater that he strongly suspects is one of his, but can't be sure. Her hair is still a tangled mess of curls. Her eyes appear to be barely open; she's squinting heavily at the brightness of the outside light shining in. 

Her fuzzy sock clad feet glide across the kitchen tile in Kate's direction. She kisses the top of Kate's head and mumbles into her hair," good morning, baby." 

Apparently, Kate isn't too keen on Lucy this morning either because she continues to pout into her bowl of cheerios. 

Lucy walks toward him and then wraps her arms around his waist. She burrows her nose in his chest. He can feel the cold temperature of the tip of her nose through the cotton of his t-shirt.  

No words are needed to be exchanged between them. It's just a small good morning hug that they have just like every other morning. 

Lucy pulls away from him after a moment and moves over to the refrigerator, sliding open a bottom drawer, then pulling a couple of items out. She peels open a pack of string cheese and wordlessly places it in front of Kate. 

Kate picks it up immediately and begins biting into it with no problem. 

Kate enjoying a piece of cheese was not surprising. It was one of her favorite foods. The problem came when she had to eat fruits, which is what Lucy was about to give her next. 

After chopping up some strawberries and a banana, Lucy drops the pieces of fruit into another plastic bowl. This time it's the blue one. She switches the red bowl for the blue bowl in front of Kate and then waits with arms crossed, back against the countertop. 

Kate automatically pushes the bowl away, stretching her small arms as far as they could go across the kitchen table. It was almost kind of funny. Almost. If they didn't go through this every other morning he would probably laugh. 

"Uh-uh," Lucy responds with a quick shake of her head. "Eat the fruit." 

"Its gross mommy," Kate whines, yet still reaches for the bowl and slides it back towards herself. 

Lucy frowns and flashes a stern stare serving as a warning to Kate. Almost as if she's saying 'this isn't a negotiation' with her face. She doesn't need words. He and Kate knew exactly what that face meant. 

Kate crosses her arms in front of her chest and glares at the bowl almost like she was trying to stare the fruit into submission. As if she thought the glare alone would cause the fruit to magically disappear.

Kate and Lucy had the exact same facial expressions at the moment. Glancing at Kate now was like seeing a mirror image of Lucy, only smaller. Mini-Lucy, that's what Rufus started calling her once she had turned two. 

The coffee maker beeps, signaling that the coffee was ready for consumption. 

He pours two cups of the coffee, one in his usual #1 Dad mug that Kate had decorated for him last year and given to him as a gift for father’s day. The other cup, Lucy's favorite, one that he had bought for her. It had the words: I'd travel through time for you written on it. 

It was so cheesy, yet he felt a need to buy it for her as a little inside joke. It wasn’t like they could overtly talk about what they used to do with other people, so that was his little way of rebelling. 

He found it in a little corner store a couple of years back and knew that he had to buy it. 

"Oh, you like Doctor Who?" The cashier had asked.

"Uhh..no actually, my wife. She's a big fan," he had replied while smiling politely. He really just wanted to say 'no, I have literally traveled through time for her just like the words on the mug,' but he kept his mouth shut and quickly paid for it. Sometimes it was difficult keeping the secret. Having Lucy by his side made it all much easier. He always had someone to understand when he wanted to vent. Of course, there were Rufus and Jiya too, but there was just something about Lucy right from the beginning. They just connected. They understood each other on every level. There was never any pretending between them, for better or worse. 

When he had brought the mug home and given it to her she had laughed, which then turned into crying. The emotions were suddenly too much for her to bear. She had said she was so tired, yet happy that they were finished with it all. A couple weeks later, he proposed. 

Currently, Lucy teaches the occasional history class at the local community college. When she's not busy with that, she writes books. Books about a wide-range of history subjects, she had first-hand knowledge after all. 

He is a stay at home dad. In his free time he cooks. It was a hobby that he had picked up once they moved in together. He quickly discovered that he both enjoyed it and had a natural talent. Some days, he instructs self-defense training courses at the gym in town. It was something that he was very passionate about helping people with. 

Of course, when Lucy writes her books, he helps her out. But no one knew that truth. How could they explain that he had the knowledge of certain historical events without any formal education?

They don't need to work. Truthfully, they're set for life. But after the excitement of time travel, they didn't want to get stuck in the lull of domesticity. Sure, they cherish the quiet moments, but they both still enjoy a little fun every now and then. 

A hand covering his own pulls him back to reality. It's Lucy's hand, reaching for her cup of hot steaming liquid. 

"Thanks, sweetheart," she says to him.

He turns his head, meeting her eyes. "You're welcome, baby doll." 

They both laugh at the nicknames.

She always shoots him that special look. A wide grin on her face, that crinkle of her eyes, and the giggling are all hallmarks. He loves it. He lives to see her like that.

"And another thing…I love you," he tells her quietly, leaning in to press his mouth to hers.

She pulls away from the kiss too quickly, in his opinion.

"I love you too," she whispers against his lips, then grabs a fistful of his cotton shirt and tugs him down to her lips again. 

Her lips are soft and inviting. She tilts her head to the side, deepening the kiss. She was intoxicating. His hand automatically moves, cupping the back of her head. 

Just as he's about to slip his tongue into her mouth a squeak of protest interrupts him. 

"Oh…not again!" Kate sighs from her seat at the table. 

Lucy pulls away from him, smiling lightly as she quickly takes a sip from her coffee mug. 

"Oh...stop it," he replies, silently reminding himself to give Rufus hell for teaching Kate to say that. He had taught her that after a night of babysitting. She informed them that Rufus promised that he would pay her a dollar if she said that every time that her parents did the 'yucky kissing'. That's just what they got for having Rufus and Jiya babysit so often.

He checks the clock on the oven and realizes that it's time that he and Kate walk to the bus stop.

"Let's go. Bus time." He takes a quick gulp of his coffee, satisfying the craving. He'll be back to drink the rest of it and maybe he and Lucy could do some more of that 'yucky kissing' without interruption.

Kate hops off of her chair and slowly drags her feet towards the front of the house to put her shoes on. 

"Have a great day at school!" Lucy calls from the kitchen as they walk out the door two minutes later. 

He watches as Kate climbs the stairs to the bus and sits in the second seat to the front. He waves at her one last time as the bus pulls away, continuing down the street. 

“Wyatt.” 

“Wyatt.” 

“Wyatt!” 

He jerks awake, heart pounding in his chest. 

"Honey, the alarm went off 20 minutes ago. Come on!" 

It's Jessica calling out to him from the doorway to their bedroom. Wait….their bedroom? Jessica?

He glances around the room and is suddenly hit with memories of his life with Jessica and Thomas. He quickly realizes that this was his life. 

Lucy and Kate were not real. 

It was all in his head.

 It was all a dream.

//end//

I really am sorry about this one.  But I really do hope that they can end up like this for real someday. If you don't want your heart broken just pretend that it ended after Wyatt took Kate to the bus. 

Please comment and let me know your feelings and reaction! lol