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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Small Town Girl, Chapter Two (Crygi/Jankie) - Sweett-Hhappiness

Crystal stirs awake as the sun shines in through Gigi's bedroom window and into her eyes, looking around before noticing that everyone else was already awake, including Gigi Goode herself.

"Good morning sleeping beauty" Gigi whispers in her ear, the girls warm breath tickling Crystal's neck, sending a slight shiver down her spine.

"Good morning Miss Goode" Crystal says and attempts to rub the sleep out of her eyes. She hears the other girls giggling from Gigi's kitchen and she blinks heavily before pushing herself up "Sorry for cuddling you while i slept, it happens sometimes" she adds and scratches the back of her neck nervously. However Gigi smiles brightly.

"Why are you apologizing hun, I slept like a log" Gigi giggles and stands up, pulling Crystal with her towards the kitchen. She couldn't help the small blush that creeped across her cheeks at Gigi's nickname, but is quickly pulled out of her thoughts as a steaming cup of coffee is pushed into her hands. Crystal silently thanks the god that blessed her with coffee this early in the morning.

"Crystal, you were knocked the fuck out when we all woke up" Jan states with a dorky laugh coming after. There's that blush again.

"Y-yeah, i was up late" The girl chuckles nervously and looks at her coffee. Her phone starts buzzing in her pocket and she whips it out.

Mom: Honey, please be home soon, your father is arriving around 6! xo

Ugh.

She decides to ignore it for now, she'll leave eventually.

"Do you girls want to do something before we all have to leave?" Crystal asks with a nervous twirl of her thumbs. To her delights, they all quickly agree.

"Let's play Truth or Dare to get to know each other better!" Jan is the first to suggest. All the girls quickly agreeing. Some more hesitant then others.

They all gather around in Gigi's living room and sit down in a circle. Crystal is in between Gigi and Jan. Next to Jan say Jackie, who looked more nervous then usual.

A few basic questions go by, causing all the girls to burst out in giggling. When Rock lands on Jan, she smirks knowingly.

"Janice, truth or dare?" Rock says sneakily. Jan hesitantly picks Truth.

"Is it true you are hard core crushing on Jackie?" Rock blurts out and Jan slaps her playfully.

"Rock! Shush!" Jan scolds with a deep blush on her cheeks. "yes." she whispers, yet everyone heard. "Next person! Crystal! Truth or dare!"

Crystal nervously smiles "hm, truth" she shrugs and hears a snicker from Jan

"Any crushes in LA yet?" she asks and tilts her head. Crystal freezes for a moment, feeling Gigi's gaze on her.

"Um, i-i mean no crushes. Yeah i think someone's cute but crushes come with time" Crystal laughs nervously and everyone seems to except it and move on.

After a few more rounds of truth or dare, Crystal checks the time and sighs, realizing she needs to leave.

"Hey, Geege, I gotta get going, my" she pauses and clears her throat "My father is coming home" It was clear by her voice that she had not one glint of excitement. Crystal and her dad had a less then good bond.

Gigi furrowed her brows at the shorter girls sudden change in mood, and gently leads her into another room, a slightly concerned look on her face.

"Are you okay? you went from seemingly very happy this morning to, i don't know, you just seem upset" Gigi says and places her hands on Crystals cheeks.

God, yet again that heat builds up in her cheeks, but she's sure Gigi will assume it's from the mention of her dad and the awkward conversation.

"Yeah, um, i'm okay. My dad and I aren't very close. Ever since i came out to him as a lesbian, he's been really judgmental, always wanting to change me" Crystal chuckles nervously. However that laugh was forced out, and it was obvious.

Gigi had a pitiful look on her face. Crystal hates it.

"Let me come for dinner" Gigi declares. It wasn't much of a request and Crystal knew this.

"You don't have to do that. I'll be fine" She explained softly, but Gigi just shook her head and insisted. With a heavy sigh, Crystal agreed.

———

Knock Knock

Crystal knows exactly who's at the door. She sprints down the steps to beat her parents to the door, and smiles as she opens it.

On the other side, she sees Gigi. She looked like a nice little church girl, a huge change from the drunk messy teenager Crystal hung out with last night.

She was wearing a off-white dress that ended mid thigh and was loose, yet still hugged her perfect waist. Very different from Crystal, who wore her tight fitting ripped black jeans with an over sized green sweater. Her hair brushed out but still a curly mess.

"Hi" Crystal says breathlessly after a moment. She gives Gigi a once over before inviting her in.

"Hey" She greets happily and kisses Crystal on both cheeks. Walking in and saying hello to both of Crystal's parents, meeting the girls father for the first time. He was cold, yet still somehow managed to seem nice.

"Oh honey, thank you for joining us for dinner, i'm so glad my Cryssie is making friends in LA already." Crystals mom beams, making the teenager grimace. God her parents were embarrassing.

They all sit down at the dinner table, Crystal and Gigi across from her parents.

"So Gigi, Crystal says you're a senior as well. You don't plan on going to art school like my Cryssie, do you?" Her father asks Gigi with a cold laugh, making Crystal tense up.

A warm hand rests down on Crystal's leg, a silent but comforting reminder that she's here and that it's okay. Crystal really appreciates that.

Clearing her throat, Gigi replies "No sir, I want to go to school for Allied Health actually"

"Hear that Crys, maybe you're friend can talk some sense into you." Her father says coldly. "Back in Missouri, her friends had her down the wrong path of drugs, partying, and sapphic behavior, luckily we were able to get her out of those disgusting ways."

Gigi can feel the shaking of Crystal's whole body, and even though the girl is looking down at her food, Gigi can tell her eyes are swelling with tears.

"Mark." Crystal's mother says, noticing how visibly upset her daughter is.

"Excuse me" Crystal says and pushes herself back in her chair, quickly standing up and walking off towards the bathroom on the second floor. Gigi apologizes quietly before following after Crystal fast on her heels.

"Crystal!" Gigi calls out through the bathroom door, hearing quiet sobs from the other side. Gigi sighs softly and opens the door, walking in and closing it behind her, pulling Crystal into a tight hug.

Silent sobs escape Crystal's lips as she falls into Gigi's embrace. Her dads words hurt. No. Not hurt. They burned. Burned into her soul and heart. Her dad hates who she is.

"He'll never except me" Crystal cries out. Gigi's heart breaks at the vulnerability of the girl in front of her.

Crystal was an emotional person, always. However she didn't exactly plan on crying in her new friends arms on the third day they had met. Yet here she was.

"Crys.. it's going to be okay, i'm here, always, i promise" Gigi coos in her ear, rocking her back and forth slowly.

But it wouldn't. It wouldn't be okay. Her father won't love her. He won't come to her wedding if she marries a women. Nothing would ever be okay.

Crystal pulls back, stepping back and wiping her tear stained eyes. "You should go. Go home and sleep in your own bed. Without me there keeping you up." she says and walks pasted her. She was very obviously getting ready to completely push Gigi out.

Gigi shook her head, grabbing the girls wrist "Crystal Elizabeth you are not going to shut me out of your life." She scolds and pulls Crystal close to her. Their faces weren't even an inch apart at this point. Crystal could feel Gigi's breath on her own lips. They stayed there for awhile. Maybe for too long. Crystal blinks back into reality and looks down.

"I'm sorry Gi" She whispers quietly. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and never leave her room again, yet she knew Gigi wouldn't let that happen.

"I'm spending the night here" Gigi says with a confident nod. Crystal couldn't help the small smile from forming on her lips at the girl being so happy to stay there with her, even though she had just been sobbing in her arms not even five minutes ago.

Crystal sighs softly and agrees to the sleepover, yelling down to her mom that Gigi was staying the night and they both make their way into Crystal's room.

"So, who's your crush here?" Gigi asks and wiggles her eyebrows like a nerd.

'You' she thinks, but obviously doesn't say it.

"Ah no one, just a few cute girls here and there." Crystal plays off like it's nothing. Gigi's smile seems to falter for a moment, but Crystal convinces herself that she had imagined it. "You crushing on anyone?" she asks and tilts her head.

"Nope, guess not" Gigi shrugs and giggles, bumping her shoulder against Crystal's, making her smile softly and shake her head playfully.

Another sleepover with Gigi, Crystal can practically feel her crush on this girl growing inside of her.

#rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd #gigi goode #crygi #jan sport #small town girl #leda #s12 #lesbian au

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neotericbitch · 4 years

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this was a start of something that then got derailed and i abruptly stopped. but what a waste of words if i don’t share it, you know??

There’s peace to be found in Valkyrie Cain’s house. It’s not immediately obvious, it doesn’t jump out at you, nor does it leave a trail behind to be followed. There’s no map to it, one just...finds it. They carve it out for themselves, or it comes to them. There’s the definite impression that the house doesn’t hand out its peace to just anyone who walks these halls; the peace is earned, and that’s what makes it special, makes it an extra peaceful sort of peace, the peacefullest peace, and now the word peace feels weird so Omen sits for a second thinking of a substitute.

Calm. Yes, it’s calm here, and he appreciates it all the more these days.

Omen sits up straight and cranes his neck from side to side, links his fingers together and stretches his arms up high above his head. Something in his left shoulder cracks and he has a moment of mild panic, and he reaches behind his back and pats for injuries, feeling nothing but his own hand inelegantly pawing around. Omen places his hands on his knees and looks down at the coffee table in front of him.

It’s more paper than table, really; nothing more than the vague idea of a structure, something holding all this mess up off the ground. The surface is completely covered by an array of spread-out old newspapers, held down to the edges with some strips of clear tape. There are two chopping boards over here on Omen’s side of the table, one wooden and one acrylic, the latter serving as the designated space for putting his failed scraps of paper, the former he uses as a base for his homework – because of course he forgot his own board back at Corrival, like an idiot.

No, Omen, not like an idiot, he tells himself. Like a forgetful teenager, which he is allowed to be. Yes.

Although Omen doesn’t know anything about paper quality, he thinks this cardstock is pretty alright – much better than the printer paper that occupies the other side of the coffee table, at least. The card puts up a good fight against his carving knife, which needs to be sharpened and more resembles an implement for spreading butter at the present time, but Omen thinks this is good for the time being. All his cuts are slowly and carefully made, kind of janky where the blade gets caught but probably better than what he’d manage with fast slashes. Those can get...pretty bad.

Another positive thing about his crappy carving knife is that he feels better using it around Alice than he would a sharp one. Not that he’d ever leave it where she could get it, not that he’d ever let her have a close look, not that he’d ever not practise expert knife safety – but, y’know. One of those things.

He jabbed his index finger about forty-five minutes ago and was so relieved when there wasn’t any blood.

As he hunkers over to get back into it, it’s Alice’s turn to straighten up. She puts down the colouring pencils she’s been dual-wielding and shuffles over to the couch – she’s been sitting on the floor, leaving an iPad of indeterminate owner to sit next to Omen, which Alice takes now and fiddles with until the Frozen 2 soundtrack stops playing. There’s the metal tinkling of a dog collar as Xena lifts her head, looking to see what Alice is doing from where she’s laid herself halfway underneath the table. Early Taylor Swift starts playing and Alice returns to her space at the table.

Xena settles and lets out a big sigh, not her first one for the day, and Omen again wonders for how long could dogs do that and how had he not known, why had no one told him, and what does it mean? Do dogs sigh for the same reasons as people?

He puts this piece of card over on the failure board and gets another, swapping his knife back for a pencil. It’s a yellow one from Alice’s collection that she’s allowed him to borrow, citing it as being too bright, and he uses it now to draw out the same sigil design for, what, the millionth time? This part is easy, it’s been easy for the whole set he’s been working on up until now. Omen can draw the sigils like the best of them – though not really, he has to remind himself to keep from getting a big head – but the drawing isn’t the purpose of the exercise, it’s the carving. He’s still thankful that he’s allowed to trace the way he has been doing, even if it really doesn’t feel like it’s been helping him any.

Alice taps him on the arm twice after he’s finished drawing, immediately withdrawing back into her own space and gathering her hands in her lap. She’s been quiet today. Omen hasn’t known what to do except occasionally look over at her and feel bad, not having a clue on how to comfort little kids – or okay, maybe not comfort, but, reassure? Something like that. Anyway, he almost fully turns to her now, making his eyes wide in the belief that it’ll come across as super accommodating and non-threatening.

“Hey,” says Omen awkwardly. “What’s up?”

She points across the table, to the scraps on the acrylic board. “Can I colour those?”

“Oh! Yeah, sure, let me just–” Omen gathers the scraps up into his hands and sets them down with Alice’s printer paper. “There.”

She examines the little cardstock squares. There’s dozens upon dozens, many test runs and failures from his work over the day. Omen looks at the stack of completed carvings he set at the top corner of the wooden board and sags at how few there are. So much waste for so little work. But Alice doesn’t seem to think of it as waste at all, not as she looks through them and sticks her little fingers through some of the cuts in the paper.

“Are you making snails?”

Omen blinks rapidly as he tries to process this – kids are on a different level. He looks down at the collection of half-carved sigil drawings and attempts to find something snail-like about them. One of the designs is heavily reliant on spirals. Is it the spirals? It could be the spirals.

“Uh, no,” he says. “They’re like,” he pauses to think, “kind of like letters? It’s for one of my classes.”

“What language is it?” asks Alice, setting to work filling between the lines of one of the sigils with a nice powdery blue. She sounds brighter already, at the very least more eager to talk – not looking at Omen probably makes it easier. “Is it a magic language?”

“I don’t know,” he badly lies.

“Oh.”

Silence passes, and Omen shivers at a nonexistent breeze. “It’s like a code,” he offers.

“Oh,” Alice says again, though in a completely different way. She finishes with the powdery blue and starts filling in gaps with a pale green. She nods at the card in a most knowledgeable manner as she reveals, “I know about codes.”

It must be a good thing that she’s talking to him now, right? She’d been looking distracted today, focused elsewhere, on something beyond her own drawings. Maybe nothing at all. And that had worried Omen a bit. Like, Omen likes Alice, she’s a good kid, he doesn’t want her to be sad or anything. He’d have struck up a conversation with her to see if it would help, it’s just that he doesn’t know how to be friends with a kid. What’s even a good thing to say to a kid? Valkyrie’s rule – magic is okay to mention, but not demonstrate – stresses Omen out enough. He worries he’ll say or do the wrong thing and ruin Alice forever. More than he already has.

“What codes do you know about?” asks Omen.

Alice lifts her head and taps her chin for a moment, then shrugs and goes back to colouring in another sigil. “My dad can speak pig latin, he’s really good at it. That means I must be good at it, too.” She meets his eye, looking a little chuffed. “I’m good at lots of things.”

“I bet!” Oh god that sounded so fake.

But Alice beams, and Omen breathes a sigh of relief. Perhaps that’s the trick he’s gotta use – kids respond well to exaggeration, don’t they?

Alice goes on, “I’m going to be so good at whatever I want when I’m a grown-up. That’s what Stephanie says.”

“She’s right! You’ll be great, whatever you do!” Okay now this is a bit much. Omen sucks in a breath and tries to tone it down, tilting his head at the girl. “What, er. What do you want to do, Alice?” Because that’s something you ask kids, yeah? He gets asked it all the time.

...he used to. He used to get asked it all the time. No one asks him much of anything anymore.

“I want to do magic,” admits Alice a bit shyly, and Omen realises this is like a big moment for her and he shouldn’t get so caught up in his moping. “I think about it loads, and I know exactly what I’ll do! I’ll have a big wand with a star on top, and I’ll have fairy wings and definitely be able to fly, and when I wave my wand at someone they have to do what I say.” She turns one of her pencils in her hand, trying to find a good spell-casting position, miming fancy flourishes. “I’ll make shooting stars with my hands, and people can wish on them but I’m in charge of what wishes actually happen.”

He nods along dumbly. “Rad.”

Alice feels the same way. She climbs up to her feet. “I’ll show you. I’ll do like this.” She waves the pencil at Xena, who lifts her head, ears pricked and tail starting to wag. “Xena,” Alice says. “Stand up.”

The dog obeys, fully coming out from under the table. She looks between Alice and Omen expectantly, like playtime is about to begin – which Omen dreads. But when Alice tells Xena to sit again, she does, and now they’re cycling through all sorts of tricks. Roll over, shake hands. The whole arsenal. It’s very impressive, but Alice grows bored with the demonstration soon enough and wants to keep colouring. She retakes her place on the floor, only now with Xena lying beside her with her head on her leg.

Omen clicks his tongue against his teeth and looks towards the entryway to the living room. He puts his hands back on his knees and rocks himself into a stand.

“I think I’m gonna go look for your sister,” he tells Alice. “Are you okay staying here?”

“Yes,” replies Alice mindlessly, before snapping her head up at him. Panic swims in her eyes. “You’re not going to tell on me, are you?”

Omen balks. “Tell on you for what?”

“Doing magic,” she cries. “I want to wait until I’m really good before showing Stephanie.” She points her pencil at him with utmost seriousness. “Don’t tell Stephanie!” Alice commands.

He raises his hands defensively, eyebrows shot up as far as they can go. “Hey, it’s cool. I won’t.”

“You better not!”

“I won’t, Alice, I said it’s cool!”

She seems satisfied with this, and returns to drawing little stars around one of his sigils. Xena doesn’t lift her head, but she looks at Omen with her dog eyes, with a very...doggish look. You know how sometimes a dog’ll look at you and you know they’re thinking something? Omen feels like he’s been looked at that way by many a dog. He offers his hands to Xena, speaking quietly, almost as if he’s afraid of addressing her. Not in a scared-of-dogs sort of way, more in a scared-of-librarians way, but now that Omen is thinking about it he figures dogs are kind of like librarians. A silent authority.

“You stay there,” he says. “Good girl. I’ll be right back.”

“She only listens to me,” Alice claims without looking up.

Omen doesn’t know what to say to this, so he just turns and heads out of the living room.

The strange, special peace of Valkyrie Cain’s house slowly returns to him as he makes his way through it. It’s not quite an exploration, as he’s been here before and has a general idea of what goes where, but it’s definitely not a search either, he moves much too unhurriedly. He thinks maybe he shouldn’t, maybe he should hurry. Maybe the reason why Valkyrie’s been gone for so long is that something terrible happened, there’s some monster or serial killer loose in the house–

Omen takes in a deep breath and squares his shoulders. There is not a monster or serial killer loose in the house, he very calmly tells himself. Something terrible has not happened. Valkyrie has been gone only twenty minutes. Maybe she’s in the toilet. Omen pulls a face at the thought; in the toilet for twenty minutes, you fool? You think Valkyrie Cain gets constipated? You think she wouldn’t have that worked out? Flustered at his own line of thinking, Omen needs to rapidly decide what she’s been up to. Valkyrie’s been– she’s been... He catches his reflection in a mirror, and the peace has fully evaporated once more.

“Avoiding you, probably,” he mutters. “You stupid git.”

She must have only let him hang out here out of pity. She must’ve read his message and scoffed at how pathetic he is. What kind of guy wants to do his homework at barely an acquaintance’s house? What kind of guy can’t handle the school library by himself anymore?

Perhaps because that’s what he is; by himself, most unavoidably. Unwanted wherever he goes, promoted from dumb idiot friend and brother to an even dumber idiot third wheel. A useless lump of a person with no aspirations, all the more useless now that the world is done with his family. What he’d give to be there for his brother in this time, to help him through it – but that spot’s taken for Auger, and resultantly empty for Omen.

He points at himself. “You need to quit whining,” he nearly snaps. “And you need to stop being so hard on yourself. You dumb– fucking…”

Omen has a little sit in the hallway for a few minutes, fists pressed against his mouth as he looks at the weird and wonderful design of the rug. In fact, he can spot a few sigils weaved in there, that’s pretty cool. Did Valkyrie pick out this rug? Was it a gift? It’s in good condition but it’s probably pretty old – the faint smell helps attest to that. Maybe her uncle had more to do with this rug than she did, or maybe it was here way before either of them. Who knows! The mystery of the rug.

Gordon Edgley, Omen assumes, probably loved Valkyrie very much. Certainly enough to leave her this big house and its peace. It would be nice to be loved, to be left something. To have peace. He gets up.

Valkyrie is one floor higher, in a slightly unkempt yet clearly underused office. She stands at the desk, a journal splayed open on its surface as she takes pictures of the pages on her phone, sending them off somewhere. Omen watches her do this for a minute, wondering if he’s become good at sneaking around; thinking perhaps she hasn’t noticed him.

“You right there, Omen,” Valkyrie eventually says without looking up, not asking a question as much as she is crushing his dreams of stealth.

He sags and takes one step into the office, but comes no further than that. “I was just, ah… I just thought– I thought, you’d been gone a little while. Alice might be missing you. Or something.”

Valkyrie stuffs her phone in her back trouser pocket, then immediately takes it out again to check the time on the lock screen before putting it back. “Should get her home before long.”

Omen reverses back into the hallway. “Oh, yeah, um. I’ll leave soon, too.”

She fully turns around, leaning against the desk, and actually, properly looks at him now. Looks and sees, maybe even comprehends. Not likely on that last one, though; no pity has crossed her face yet. “Yeah, if you want. But no rush, Omen, you can chill here as long as you need.”

His first instinct is to argue for something he doesn’t even want. He clasps his hands behind his back instead. “Thanks.”

She folds her arms over her chest and tilts her head to the side. “You sure you’re alright?” He hadn’t said he was. “You seem a bit lost, there.”

“Oh, you know.” Omen fidgets and tries for a joking tone, “Aren’t we all?”

Valkyrie nods sagely, reaching to the desk behind her to close the journal. “Wise words, Darkly.”

Something about this little exchange has made him feel better. Maybe it’s this new, more positive energy that Valkyrie is radiating, how she smiles unbidden at her phone when it buzzes at her for something. Omen almost feels comfortable enough to attempt a more meaningful discussion, but there really is no easy opener for any of what he has on his mind, nor a point to saying any of it aloud. Despite this good mood she’s been in, she probably wouldn’t care in the slightest.

Which is fine, because she is a grown woman with her own life and her own problems, Omen is sure to tell himself.

Valkyrie pockets her phone again and straightens up, exits the office and starts going down the hallway. Omen watches her, and she must hear that he’s not following because she glances back and waves him over.

“Get with the program,” she says sharply, but with good humour. “When I was your age and people started walking away, I knew it was time,” she snaps her fingers, “to get fuckin’ moving.”

“Sorry,” says Omen as he hurries up beside her. “Am I annoying you? I’m probably just getting in your way.”

She looks at him and laughs. “I just asked you to follow me! Relax, Omen, you know I like you.”

“Right, gotcha. Thank you.”

“Some of the time.”

He blinks. Valkyrie nudges him with her elbow.

“More than some of the time,” she says like she’s paying him a compliment.

“Ha,” Omen replies, feeling bolstered but still kind of stumbling on his next words, “I guess there’s times where I can stand you, too.”

Valkyrie’s laugh is a roll of thunder. “You cheeky fucker!”

they were gonna come back to alice and see that she’d started colouring in omen’s proper, completed homework sigils and accidentally activated one (just a little glowy thing, nothing dangerous), and after taking her home valkyrie was gonna ask omen about it and he was gonna tell her about what alice said about doing magic – but then it’d turn out that he literally can’t. when she waves her wand at someone they have to do what she says.

i also wanted to explore valkyrie and omen being friends now that valkyrie’s up for it. she’s taking pictures of werewolf entries in gordon’s books and sending them on to skulduggery, fyi, then smiling when he texts back a joke or some shit. valdug was gonna have a werewolf adventure. and ofc omen dealing with post-prophecy angst.

but alice accidentally doing magic!! HOOH BOYy

maybe i’ll try in comic form.

#no tags we get 3 notes and feel grateful

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fan-art-ic · 4 years

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dt future au oneshot

"So, busy night?"

Gosalyn swallows her mouthful of burrito before answering. "Not really. A couple break-ins, an attempted robbery."

Launchpad raises his eyebrows. "Armed?"

"Yeah, but the bozo couldn't even figure out how to turn the safety off," Gosalyn rolls her eyes. She shivers as the fall wind breezes by the rooftops. Launchpad silently raises his arm, and she gratefully leans into her pops’ ridiculous body heat.

"How's Dad doing?" She asks.

Launchpad hum in thought for a second and takes a bite of his own burrito. He chews slowly and Gosalyn can tell something is going on. He finally says, "Isn't he always yakking up on your commlink?"

"Well, yeah," Gosalyn answers. Drake had made it his post-retirement job to be the sort-of old Batman to her new Batman, and checked in with her often. "But you know how he is, Pops, never really talking about himself in the way you ask. Last time I asked how his back was doing, he talked about how he was waging vegetable war with the lady across the street," she griped. Launchpad huffs a laugh, a slight wheeze in it that hadn't been there a decade earlier.

"Well, Gosaroonie, that's just the way people like your Dad function. They love going on about their life and talking up their little problems, but it's kind of a distraction from how they're actually doing," Launchpad tells her. He sighs and takes another bite, pulling the wrapper back. "And he doesn't like worrying people."

Gosalyn gives her own sigh and leans forward against her helmet. "Yeah, I know." She finishes her burrito in silence and listens to the sounds of St. Canard. The janky city with weird criminals and even weirder citizens. The janky city that her dad nearly died for (multiple times).

"Hey," she straightens up, and Launchpad lifts the arm that was resting on her shoulders. Gosalyn turns to him and pokes him in the chest. "You never answered me. You're just as bad as Dad."

Launchpad laughs awkwardly. "Hah. Yeah, you got me, Snipe."

"Pops," Gosalyn begins, but is cut off by a loud buzzing from her helmet. She and Launchpad look down at it and then at each other. Her pops stands up.

"Don't wanna leave your dad hanging there, kiddo. Let's get burritos again soon. Stay safe," he bends down and kisses the top of her head like she was ten and just adopted instead of twenty-two and a fully fledged hero. And then he swings over the side of the building, and Gosalyn can hear the old fire escapes creaking under her pops' still considerable weight, and in a minute she sees him walking down the sidewalk towards wherever he crashed the car.

Her helmet buzzes insistently. Gosalyn sighs. Her fathers could be such pieces of work sometimes. She'd grill them the next time she visited home. Snipe puts on the helmet and is bombarded by a loud crackling voice.

"Snipe! Snipe! Kid, where'd ya go? Hello?"

"I'm here," she says. The voice falls silent and she gathers up her mid-patrol burrito trash. "On the rooftop of Taco Tiger on the corner of 3rd and Blue Jay. Stopped for a bite with Crasher."

Snipe rolls her eyes as she says ‘Crasher’, wishing she could just call her pops ‘Pops’, but codenames were important and she'd learned that importance well.

"Well, don't leave your 'duck in the chair' in the dark for so long again, Snipe. I was getting ready to call Gizmo or DA."

"Roger that, DW," she replies. Snipe cracks her neck as she adjusts her chin strap. She takes a quick stock of her puck bags (she has seven regular, four explosive, and two sticky left) and with a forceful slap of her hockey stick to her heels, the wheels pop out on her steel-toed skates. "Anything coming up on the scanner?"

"I have reports of movement near the abandoned warehouses on the wharf," Darkwing informs her. She can faintly hear the click-clack of his big, fancy computer.

"The ones with the creepy construction equipment or the ones that are half collapsed?" She starts skating around the rooftop, building speed before jumping to the next roof. A clean landing, and immediately she's taking off again, roller-parkouring across St. Canard's rooftops.

"The ones with the creepy construction," he says. "And don't make that face, I know you are." Snipe rolls her eyes and forces her scrunched expression to flatten.

"What face? Make a face? Me? Never."

"Smart aleck." She can hear the fondness in his tone, and knows that her dad is fighting off a smile from where he sits in the basement of their suburban home, leaning over a massive keyboard with his reader glasses on. Launchpad will be back soon and the she’ll hear him pester Dad about taking the pain pills for his back. Not that he will, but it's a concerted effort Gosalyn and Launchpad have been making.

"Are you listening to me, Snipe?" The intercom cracks at the loud volume and she purses her bill.

"Of course, Darkwing." She's nearing the warehouses now and begins to slow down, bouncing off more window ledges and rooftop doors than necessary.

"Alright, so here's what I'm picking up..."

And she listens. She listens hard, and she listens well, and she's ready to go in prepared to fight some drug traffickers or mob goons (she thinks it's goons; he thinks it's traffickers) and she climbs down the fire escape and creeps toward the warehouses in question.

"Alright, I'm gonna go in, DW." Snipe breathes in, holds it, and breathes out. She pulls out a puck and taps her hockey stick against the ground. "Let's get dangerous."

She can almost hear her dad laugh as she enters the building.

#ducktales au #ducktales #darkwing duck #gosalyn mallard #gosalyn mallard mcquack #my writing #baSICALLY. PLEASE hmu if this interests you i dont know how to tell you how many thoughts i have #dt future au

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shaezerburn · 5 years

Text

Because my friends wanted me to, here’s an attempt at the “One Bed” Trope. Along with other shenanigans.

Freezerburn. WC: 2.4k

“Uhh, we should really pull over.” an obvious statement that had escaped the mouth of Yang Xiao Long.

“Put the top up at least!” yelled out Weiss, she could feel herself getting hit by the droplets as they sped down the road.

The two girls were on a long planned roadtrip to California, where their best friends Sun and Blake lived, along with Ruby who happened to go to a college there. But trips don’t always go according to plan.

After leaving New York in a 1993 Toyota Celica GT Convertible on a beautiful Friday morning the two had arrived in Ohio, where the roads were dimly lit and the rain clouds have gathered from the depths of nowhere and had now loomed over Yang’s and Weiss precious top down ride.

Yang frantically pressed the button for the top to come back up, but it seemed like the vehicle itself had other plans. Halfway through lifting itself up, it had gotten stuck. “Shit.” Yang muttered as she kept driving, the rain not letting up. “A little help?” Yang cried out to Weiss who was already, stupidly, crawling towards the back of the speeding vehicle and trying to lift the top up.

But to no avail.

“It’s no use!” Weiss yelled in return as the rain had begun to pelt them, drowning out any sort sound.

“Whaaat?” Yang yelled back as Weiss seemed to crawl her way back into the front seat, soaked, putting her seatbelt back on as the two of them sped down the luckily empty, and straight highway.

Weiss groaned to herself. They should’ve checked the weather before leaving, and now they had a dent in their plans as they’d have to find the nearest hotel. Not like it mattered, it was getting late anyways.

Yang pointed ahead of them, how she could see anything clearly was beyond them. It was a good thing that Yang was a deceivingly good driver in any vehicle she was in. “I can see the light! Look, a hotel!”

Weiss nodded frantically, she really didn’t need to say anymore as they were both ready to get out of this rain. As they pulled off towards the exit, the thunder roared above them causing them both to nearly jump in their seats.

“Shitshitshitttt…” Yang muttered to herself in a sing-songy way. It was hard to tell if she was scared or actually shitting herself at this point in time. Weiss was nearly in the same boat… or car.

Yang pulled into the parking lot, which was surprisingly filled. Several other people who had been caught in the rain could be seen running into the lit hotel as they found a parking spot. The two scrambled to exit out of the car, grabbing all of their bags and running into the building soaked and drenched.

The receptionist seemed to take pity on them as she had noticed the two running in from a distance and grabbed them towels to dry off on. “Looks like you two have seen better days.” she jested towards the two miserable girls.

“I blame her for this” Weiss meekly pointed at Yang, “she chose the old janky convertible versus my pristine bmw.” she glared at Yang who cheekily smiled at her.

“Hey, nothing says roadtrip like good tunes, janky cars, and random weather.” Yang continued to grin as she rubbed her sopping wet hair off with the towel.

The receptionist had returned to her computer, “We’re in luck. We have one room available and I’m sure it’d be fine for you two.”

Weiss whipped out her card and handed it to the receptionist, “We’ll take it.”

The receptionist busily typed things in and spoke to the two girls, “Let us know if you two need anything, there’s a convention several miles down here so it might get a little rowdy here.”

Weiss groaned, just what she needed. Lack of sleep.

“A convention? Sweeet.” she eyed the lobby which was filled with young students like them. Though, Yang and Weiss weren’t exactly young… but they were young adults.They could fit in… if they tried.

Weiss grabbed her card back, and the keycard to the room along with her bags slugging them around her shoulder. She grabbed Yang by her forearm and dragged her along. “No time for conventions Yang, we have a California to get to.”

Yang whined as she was dragged along. “You just want to get me alone in a hotel room, don’t you?” she teased.

Weiss whipped around as she had stopped at the elevator. The rain still pouring down loudly around them. She glared and the hotel lights flickered.

“Whoa, Weiss - cool magic trick. I didn’t know you were a demoness.” Yang winked as they entered the elevator.

Weiss scoffed and rolled her eyes as they took to the third floor. They were lucky that the flickering power didn’t trap them there.

The two walked their way past several hotel goers and had made their way to their room, Weiss quickly swiping her keycard and shivering as she entered the room. Her teeth chattered, why were hotel rooms always so damn cold?!

Yang on the other hand, seemed all too fine with this. “And Yang said, let there be light!” she followed in behind Weiss flickering on the lights.

The two paused at the sight before them.

“Well, this’ll be interesting.” Yang commented.

“Really?” Weiss muttered.

One bed. For two girls.

It’s not like it wasn’t unusual for two girls to share a bed. But there was a key difference in this scenario. And it didn’t help that these two liked to pretend that there isn’t some sort of physical, emotional, and romantic attraction towards one another. Neither one of them letting down their barriers for the other.

Just quips, comments, and all too passable flirtatious remarks.

Yang just played around too much.

While Weiss found it hard to take the passes at her seriously.

Even if the two really did like each other.

“I call dibs on the first shower.” Yang rushed passed her with her wet bag in hand and locked the bathroom door behind her.

Weiss groaned pacing the room quietly, she checked her phone and texted Blake telling them all that had happened… all except for the fact that they had to share a bed together. Blake wasn’t exactly lost on the news between Weiss and Yang, she was fully aware that the two had a thing for one another. But she knew her words would usually fall on deaf ears.

The rain grew louder, beating hard against the third floor window. She could hear the trees below them rattling and crying out in the wind. The loud thunder boomed before her as paced through the room. The lightning peeked through the closed window and sure enough, she knew that this storm was going to be a doozy.

She continued to shudder as Yang finished her shower. Which seemed to be a long grueling one as all Weiss could hear was running water, light chattering from outside the room, and inconsistent booms from the Gods above.

Minutes passed and Yang had finally exited from the shower looking refreshed and as fit as ever. She wore her usual tank top and shorts to bed and kept her towel around her neck as if she had just worked out.

“Your tu-” before Yang could even finish her sentence, Weiss bolted passed Yang and had begun her shower.

Not even the warm water could stop her from shivering. The loudness of the water only seemed to add onto her growing anxieties. She managed to clean herself up quickly and hopped out of the shower and dressed only to exit the bathroom and instantly be greeted with an almost glass shattering boom that knocked out the hotel’s lights in an instant. Weiss was thankful the sound covered her quick squeal as she jumped from the sound.

“So much for a movie night.” Yang groaned now curling herself up underneath the covers.

Weiss quickly paced herself to the otherside of the bed, as far away from Yang as possible. Weiss was cold, a little too cold. Her body could not escape this constant jittery feeling as her nerves continued to rattle her. “Better to get rest now, then to complain about it later.” Weiss’s words were fast and almost short of breath sounding.

“Mm… I guess you’re right. Goodnight Weiss.” Yang shifted and Weiss could feel the entirety of the bed move.

Weiss tried to breathe deeply but as the storm grew louder, her shivering became worse and worse. She could hear the rain droplets turn into what sounded like hail. The thunder and lightning paraded the sky and their window as if they were getting their own private light show.

Weiss gripped the sheets, her entire body unable to stop the trembling.

Yang seemed to groan out, “I didn’t realize this was one of those kinds of beds… wait! Isn’t the power out?” she turned back over to face Weiss. Weiss, who was curled up into a tiny ball at the other end of the bed, her vibrations clearly rocking the entire bed.

“Weiss?” Yang called out, but Weiss didn’t move. Weiss’s entire body felt frozen, her hands gripped her arms tightly as she shook. Yang’s words fell on deaf ears. All Weiss could hear was impending doom, known as the storm outside.

Yang reached out to touch Weiss, which only caused her to yelp and jump - making her anxiety far worse. “Whoa, whoa…” Yang sat herself up and moved closer towards Weiss.

Weiss swallowed hard and continued to tremble and turns towards Yang, also sitting up. “I’m fine.” her words quick and almost harsh. “Sharing a bed with you is miserable that’s all…” as she had finished speaking thunder crashed, causing the building to rattle - once more Weiss had the knee-jerk reaction to squeal and clutch the covers over her.

It took Yang a second, but she finally caught on. “Snowflake’s afraid of a little storm?” she asked.

Weiss slowly turned her head, which was mostly hidden by the thick blankets and looked at Yang.

“You’re glaring at me, aren’t you?” Yang questioned.

Weiss threw the covers off of her, “Yeah! Fine! I’m afraid of a storm. But, I’ve never really liked thunderstorms. All the sounds are so horrible, the rattling, the howling, I.. the intensity is too much!” her tone was rushed as there was an obvious fluctuation in her voice as she tried to keep her resolve. “So fine, make fun of me for being scared!” Weiss clenched the sheets in front of her, looking down, continuing to tremble.

“I’m not going to make fun of you, you know. Everyone’s got their weaknesses. Mine’s spiders… but seriously, have you never been through a hurricane? A blizzard?” Yang questioned once more.

Weiss shook her head, “Spiders, really Yang? Those are mostly harmless.”

“Mostly.”

“But no, I’ve never really been through a hurricane. You forget that I was born and raised in Germany. But I’ve been through plenty of storms that have caused sleepless nights and anxiety that I can’t comprehend. But Blizzards don’t bother me one bit. I prefer them over thunderstorms.” she continued to clench the sheets, pulling at them.

“But you’ve said you lived in the states for several years now, and you’ve still never gone through one?” Yang inched closer to her.

Weiss looked up at her, now noting how close Yang had gotten. “I plan ahead.”

“Alright, well then you must have a plan for when you get scared in situations like these, right?” Yang’s voice had offered up concern to the smaller, but not totally fragile girl.

Weiss shook her head again, looking down at the sheets once more “I don’t.” she noticed her own trembling had ceased a little, she hadn’t considered how calming it would be to talk about one’s fears… even if it was with Yang.

“We could cuddle.” Yang offered in the most serious tone Weiss had ever heard.

Weiss whipped her head back to look at Yang.

With another boom of thunder and the dance of lightning filling up the room once more Weiss nearly leaped into Yang’s arms.

“Is that a yes?”

“Tell anyone about this and you die.” Weiss gripped onto Yang for dear life as Yang had begun to settle the two of them down into the sheets, finally laying their head backs against the pillows.

“Yes ma’am.” Yang chuckled, embracing Weiss - not only wrapping her up in the blankets, but within Yang’s body. Weiss’s face happened to be in the crook of Yang’s neck as they laid there. Yang could feel the anxious and warm breath that escaped Weiss.

Weiss continued to tremble as she laid with Yang, her arms draped over Yang as best as they possibly could. Her hands clenching onto the thin fabric that was Yang’s tank top.

“You’re safe…” whispered Yang, hoping some words of reaffirmation would help ease Weiss’s mind. “I’ve got you.” her hands slowly running through Weiss’s damp hair, caressing her head lightly and continuously whispering words of assurance.

After awhile Weiss’s trembling had begun to cease completely, even as the thunder and lightning continued on. Yang continued with her soft movements, eventually moving onto the backside of Weiss. Lightly rubbing and scratching at her back.

Yang didn’t rest until she knew that Weiss could. It was when Weiss’s grip had gone completely limp and her breathing itself had slowed down indicating she had finally fallen asleep.

“Weiss?” she called out. But no obvious answer would arise from the sleeping beauty before her.

Yang let out a light chuckle and decided it was maybe time for her to get some sleep too. They did have a trip after all.

////

“Look, I finally got the top up!” Yang grinned as Weiss proceeded to put the bags into the trunk.

Weiss groaned, “We should’ve gone with the BMW!”

“Too late for that now, you’re stuck with this AND me.” Yang made her way to the driver's seat as Weiss popped into the passengers side.

“I’m thankful for one of those.” Weiss slyly smiled as Yang turned her head to face Weiss.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” she playfully glared.

Weiss leaned over towards Yang, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. “It means thank you, you dolt. Now let’s go to California.”

Yang’s face turned a crimson shade of red as she stumbled with the car keys, trying to stuff them into the ignition. “Buh..bu..” she mumbled, but it was far too late - she was fully flustered.

“Do I need to drive?”

Yang simply nodded and handed her the keys. Quickly exiting the the driver’s side and switching spots with Weiss.

For a good hour, Yang held her face in her hands and mumbled something about Weiss, cuteness, and being caught off-guard.

Weiss couldn’t help but chuckle to herself as she drove, “I guess we found another weakness of yours… Me!”

#Freezerburn #Weiss Schnee #Yang Xiao Long

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