phoenixsweet - Tumblr blog

phoenixsweet · 3 years

Note

i’m kind of upset right now, can i have some mallard-mcquack family headcanons to cheer me up?

i am so sorry you were feeling upset, and i sincerely hope you feel better now! here’s some mallard-mcquack family headcanons for you:

sometimes, the mallard-mcquack family have days where they feel really drained and tired, so gos climbs into drake and launchpad’s bed with them and they all snuggle in together and sleep the day away

launchpad is usually the head of family barbecues bc he loves cooking and wearing a ‘kiss the cook’ apron. drake always goes in for a kiss when he wears it and gosalyn always yells “GET A ROOM” when they kiss in front of her

drake is a major PTA dad and on occasions where he can’t make it to the meetings he asks launchpad to make cupcakes and attend the meeting instead. launchpad and gos both attempt at making cupcakes but burn them every time so they both just agree to buy cakes from the store instead. then lp and gos both get antsy at the meetings so they just make up some excuse to leave and go to hamburger hippo instead and tell drake the meetings were called off to which drake replies “hmm they’re certainly called off a lot when it’s your time to go launchpad”

drake and launchpad are EXTREMELY enthusiastic at gosalyn’s hockey games, so much so that drake will sit on launchpad’s shoulders holding up a banner that says “GO GOSALYN!” on it. they get told to sit down and chill out or they won’t be allowed at gosalyn’s hockey games again. this embarrasses gosalyn but makes her happy to feel so loved at the same time

drake and launchpad both struggle to help with gosalyn’s math homework so much that she usually just has to ask mrs beakley instead who babysits her regularly and gosalyn thinks she’s super cool

gosalyn calls her dads losers but if anyone else were to say a bad word about them she’d beat them up in a heartbeat

gosalyn gets very, VERY cuddly when she’s tired and kind of alternates between both her dads for cuddles nightly. she really enjoys laying on launchpad’s chest but also really likes when drake plays with her hair while she cuddles him so she just takes turns with them

drake and launchpad are both pretty embarrassing dads because they just love their daughter so much and want the world to know it, and like i said before gos gets embarrassed but loves it at the same time because she loves to feel loved

this is a more serious one but when gosalyn is having a breakdown and tearing up the house (she has behavioural issues and trauma related to taurus bulba and her grandpa, and i love her very much) drake and lp cope really well and lp is able to hold her to calm her down physically whereas drake speaks really softly to her and tells her everything is going to be okay and they both hum a tune for her to calm down to and it almost always works

90 notes · View notes

phoenixsweet · 3 years

Text

A Father’s Wrath

Drake glanced down at his watch for probably the fiftieth time since he had been directed to sit down in the too-small chair outside the principal’s office. How dare she call him here on such short notice, claiming that Gosalyn had been ‘causing problems,’ and then make him wait. It was already fifteen minutes after he’d arrived, and well, although he didn’t really have anywhere he needed to be until that evening, it was the principle of the matter.

It was while Drake was still chuckling to himself about his mental pun that she finally opened the door to her office and said, “Mr. Mallard-McQuack, please, come on in.”

Drake shuddered at her sickly sweet voice - it dragged him back to the days when he himself was constantly trapped within the confines of the cinderblock walls of an elementary school. He felt his skin itching, desperately wanting to exit this prison of flashbacks and memories.

Keep reading

110 notes · View notes

phoenixsweet · 3 years

Note

Drakepad and #30 from the angst prompts please! Thank you <3

30. Find Me Again

The crackling portal glows an impossibly brilliant blue, burning an imprint into the backs of Drake’s eyelids that he sees whenever he closes his eyes. Beyond its swirling depths lie a hundred thousand worlds, a million different realities, innumerable other Earths; all of that, and only one of him.

And if all goes well, only one Professor Waddlemeyer.

“Alright, Darkwing, this is your final equipment check,” Fenton says as he adjusts the bulky screen attached to the sci-fi gauntlet on Drake’s wrist. “Remember, you’ve only got so much time between jumps before your molecules begin destabilizing, so you’ll have to move fast. While there isn’t any danger of you getting stuck in another dimension, once you’ve jumped forward there’s no going back until you’ve cycled through every other set of coordinates we’ve programmed into the gauntlet.”

Drake laughs and hopes it doesn’t sound as strained as it does in his head. “I think I remember covering this in Interdimensional Travel 101. In other words, no sightseeing?”

“Precisely.” Fenton smiles, brimming with his own brand of nervous energy, but he doesn’t look worried. He quickly slips back into rapidfire professionalism. “Now, final suit checks. I’ll be searching for any cracks or tears, so be sure let me know if anything pinches or feels too loose.”

He looks over Fenton’s head as the scientist scurries around him. “What do you think, kiddo? I’d say your old man looks like a bona fide astronaut.”

Gosalyn and Launchpad are standing by the first row of safety tape next to the command center where Gyro is barely visible behind the row of computers keeping the portal open and stable.

“You look like a kid in a cheesy Halloween costume is what you look like,” is Gosalyn’s predictably sarcastic retort, though the hands buried in the pockets of her hoodie betray her nervousness.

“Hey!” Fenton pops up from behind Drake’s shoulder, pretending to sound offended. “I’m the one who made this Halloween costume.”

“With design input from my dad,” Gosalyn returns dryly, and not even Drake’s wounded pride can dull the warm swell of affection beneath his breastbone whenever she refers to him as such.

“You look great, DW!” Launchpad says sincerely, but smiles in a way Drake has come to recognize as artfully guileless. That’s even before Launchpad shoots Gosalyn a wink that has her muffling a laugh in her sleeve.

Drake shakes his head. “Everyone’s a critic today.”

Fenton pats him on the shoulder. “Alright, Darkwing, one last test and we’ll be good to go.”

“I thought that was the last test?” he asks, looking over at Fenton in confusion.

Even with the Gizmohelmet hiding half of his face, Fenton’s emotions have always been painfully transparent. Barefaced as he is now, his darting eyes and hesitation speak to his forthcoming lie before he even opens his mouth.

“This one has to, um, be run on the computer. We’re just verifying the coordinates for your first jump. It’ll take about five minutes.” Fenton speaks slowly, a rarity for him. He shares a brief but significant look with Launchpad over his shoulder before hurrying away to join Gyro in the command center, where the computer screens obscure their view of the Ramrod Ver. 3.0’s platform.

Drake appreciates Fenton’s abysmal attempt at subtly giving his family privacy as Gosalyn jumps into his arms with a running start, slamming into him hard enough to propel him back a few clumsy steps.

“Whoa there, kiddo! Careful, they’ve strapped about fifty extra pounds of gizmos onto me already. One wrong move and I’m tipping over.” Drake returns Gosalyn’s embrace with equal fierceness, gripping a handful of the material of her hoodie even though he can barely feel the warmth of her body through the protective gloves and suit he’s been outfitted with.

She’s muttering something into the front of his suit, and doesn’t let go when he tries to pull back and get a look at her face. “Gos?” he says in concern, smoothing a hand over her hair.

“Don’t go,” she whispers.

Drake feels something inside him crack, and the pieces dig into him like shards of glass. “Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, kneeling in front of her. Gosalyn ducks her head to avoid his gaze, but the source of her sniffling is unmistakable.

He glances up as Launchpad crouches on Gosalyn’s other side, smiling despite the worry in his eyes. “We’ve talked about this for weeks, Gos,” Drake reminds her gently. He locks eyes with Launchpad, who nearly flinches. “This is the best plan, you know that.”

“I don’t care!” Gosalyn clings to his arms with wide, red-rimmed eyes already glassy with tears. “I, I changed my mind, I don’t want you to go. Please, Dad. I can’t lose you too.”

“Whoa, whoa, who said anything about losing me?” Drake smiles, sweeping Gosalyn’s bangs out of her face and brushing the tears off her cheek. “I don’t plan on staying in there a second longer than I have to.”

“If you’re ten seconds late, I’m grabbing one of those space suits and hopping right in after you,” Launchpad threatens, but his joke falls flat due to his utter sincerity.

Drake reaches for Launchpad with this free hand, and Launchpad reciprocates at once, both of them clutching fiercely at each other’s arm and Drake hates that he can’t feel the creasing of Launchpad’s leather jacket under his hand.

“I’ve gotta do this, Gosalyn,” he says softly, cradling her face in his palm. “I’m the only one who can.”

“Why does it have to be you?” she demands, clutching at his wrist, but the fire in her eyes is dying, sputtering in acceptance of what she already knows.

“Because your dad’s a hero,” Launchpad says, pride suffusing every word, and the love Drake feels for his family is utterly too big for his body to contain.

“Thanks, LP,” he murmurs, and it’s not nearly enough, but Launchpad smiles like he knows everything that Drake isn’t able to say. Turning back to Gosalyn, Drake nudges her cheek so she looks him in the eye again. “But I also made a promise to you. I told you that I’d do whatever I could to find your grandpa. And a father keeps the promises he makes to his daughter.”

He doesn’t anticipate the force with which Gosalyn tackles him in a hug, and he almost falls flat on his back before Launchpad lunges forward with both hands to steady them both.

“Then promise me you’ll come back,” Gosalyn whispers fiercely against his neck.

Drake cradles the back of her head and looks at Launchpad as he says, “I promise.”

It feels as though only a few seconds have passed, but Fenton is already peering out from behind the command center with an apology in his eyes. “One minute until the dimensional coordinates are primed, Darkwing. You should get your helmet on.”

Drake tightens his hug around Gosalyn one more time before he untangles himself from the pile they’ve become.

He hears Launchpad scramble to his feet behind him as he moves away to pick up his helmet from the nearby equipment table. Still, it almost comes as a surprise when he turns around and comes face to face with Launchpad, their chests mere inches apart. Drake’s throat works fruitlessly as Launchpad stares at him in that silent, intimate way that makes Drake feel as though his every thought and intention is being laid bare.

“LP…” he says, only to trail off breathlessly as Launchpad reaches up to cradle his face, the only part of him not covered by the suit. Then Launchpad is kissing him, soft but full of intent, and Drake allows himself to be lost in it. Through sheer determination, he doesn’t drop his helmet and shatter the visor.

The warm of Launchpad’s palms is nearly enough to drive Drake to distraction, but he forces himself to pay attention as Launchpad leans back to look him in the eye. “Be careful, Drake,” he says. “If anything happens…”

Drake covers Launchpad’s hands with his own, his earlier nerves replaced with a burgeoning sense of purpose. He’s doing this for Gosalyn, for the man who raised her, and because this is what Darkwing was meant to do.

He smiles at Launchpad and says with every ounce of faith, “If anything happens, I’m counting on you to find me again.”

“Technically you’ll be counting on us,” Gyro pipes up, not looking away from the array of monitors. “Since we are, y’know, the ones who built your suit. And will be manning the portal. And come to think of it—” A quick jab from Fenton’s elbow cuts him off with a yelp.

Drake laughs, standing on tiptoe to kiss Launchpad one more time before he secures the helmet over his head.

“Let’s get dangerous.”

119 notes · View notes

phoenixsweet · 3 years

Text

Ill Met by Fistfight

The first sign that something’s amiss is the Ratcatcher, its front fender twisted and warped against the railing in a crash nearly worthy of Launchpad himself.

The second is the silence pervading the tower; not the sort that delineates emptiness, but instead makes the high ceilings themselves feel as though they’re holding their breath.

Gosalyn bounds out of the elevator unawares, clutching her bag of takeout. “Hey, Drake!” she shouts, revelling in the echo and Drake’s inevitable insistence that she use her indoor voice. “We picked up Hamburger Hippo! I definitely didn’t eat your fries on the drive over.”

From across the room Launchpad can see Drake huddled in front of W.A.N.D.A.’s giant, darkened screen, though he doesn’t stand or turn to greet them. “Oh!” Drake exclaims, in the high voice that comes out when he’s been taken by surprise but doesn’t want anyone to think he was. “You guys are back early.”

Gosalyn scoffs. “Yeah right. How long have you been sitting in front of the computer? The sun went down hours ago.” She strolls around to the opposite side of the lair with Launchpad following just a pace behind, unsure how to feel about the wariness settling uncomfortably on his shoulders.

Keep reading

341 notes · View notes

phoenixsweet · 3 years

Note

That video where the guy wakes of from anesthesia and unusually starts to hit on his wife while she gently laughs and tries to get him to eat crackers but with drakepad. (Bonus for me not deciding which is cuter, launchpad or drake waking up and instantly being enamoured with their family)

Drake had such a high tolerance for pain and visited the hospital so rarely anyway that he hardly ever required strong painkillers. Which was a good thing because he always had terrible reactions to them.

When he fractured his cheekbone he ended up reciting all of his lines from Darkwing: First Darkness in his apartment, stage directions included, and it was all Launchpad could do to keep him from leaping off the balcony to face Megavolt.

When he got his wisdom teeth removed Launchpad and Gosalyn ended up in the Pancake House parking lot at 2 a.m. with him on the hood of the car singing show tunes.

When the day came that they had to bring Drake in for appendicitis, Launchpad just hoped that they could get him out of the hospital before he announced that he was Darkwing Duck to half the orderlies and the entire waiting room, like he tried to do when he broke his ribs three months ago.

The procedure went well, and within a handful of hours Launchpad found himself back in the hospital room with Gosalyn beside him, waiting for Drake to wake up. Gosalyn napped on and off in between trips to the vending machine, wherein she bought all the junk food Drake usually barred her from. Launchpad didn’t have the heart to say no to her, knowing how nervous it made her when Drake had to go to the hospital, even for something relatively minor.

It was early evening by the time Drake began to stir.

Gosalyn was asleep, slumped against Launchpad’s side as he scrolled through his Wingstagram. Dewey had posted pictures from the family’s recent trip to the center of the Earth and Gizmoduck was trending again for saving a capsized ferry.

The blankets shifted as Drake squirmed in the way of the drugged and half-asleep, and Launchpad looked up from his phone with a relieved sigh. He’d never let Drake or Gosalyn know, but these hospital visits played havoc with his nerves too. Drake could be coming in for a stubbed toe and he would still worry.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Launchpad said quietly, laying his hand over Drake’s on the blankets. “There you are. How do you feel?”

“Ngk,” Drake said. His eyes were clenched shut but as Launchpad rubbed his thumb over his knuckles they opened piecemeal. His expression was dazed, brow furrowed in annoyance or exhaustion, or both, and his pupils were blown wide. He watched Launchpad vacantly for a few long seconds, which Launchpad had come to expect.

Keep reading

1K notes · View notes