by louie

@squorkal I did my best with the boys in your style. I think I made some slight differences to Louie and Huey’s hair. 

I just couldn’t resist giving my son bangs. 

And Louie, I feel, would need to be bribed in order to cut his hair because otherwise he just wouldn’t bother.

Teen Ducks is such a fun idea to work with. And if it’s alright with everyone present I’d like to impart some head canons of mine in regards to the Duck teen years.

Duck anatomy is weird and wonderful. I wanted, here, to put some of the effects of duck puberty on display.

ie: sort of mish-mash the canon “kid” model with the canon adult.

  • So their feet and hands are bigger. This is normal for human teens, and honestly I think it’s flipping adorable.
  • Their necks are longer, like an older ducks, but not quite there yet. Similarly, their tail feathers are starting to sprout properly and their bills are beginning to grow.
  • Their legs and arms are long and gangling. 


@robinine-blog​ I don’t know if you recall, but I mentioned a while back that I headcanoned that Huey would actually grow up with a strong body type/build.  

This is because his character is a perfectionist. In his teen years, Huey works hard to eat healthy and stay fit, as a proper scout would.  

And after all, how is one supposed to adventure and solve mysteries to the best of their ability if they aren’t in peak physical condition?

So Huey begins to strive toward that ideal. He packs his own, his brothers and even Webby’s lunches everyday, and gets mad when they don’t eat their lovingly prepared meals in favor of school cafeteria junk. 

He’s one of those early morning joggers. And one day he asks Mrs Beakley politely if he may be permitted to train under her alongside Webby. It’s one of the worst decisions of his life, but he powers through and it starts getting easier.

He’s also something of a semi-model student. I say “semi” because he still gets into a fair bit of trouble, as to be expected from a member of the Duck/McDuck family.

He runs for class president every year but never wins. It’s usually because his brothers and Webby are insistent on helping his campaign.

His best subjects are History, Home Economics and Woodshop.

Don’t talk to him about his “worst” subjects. If he gets a grade below an A he dubs it sub-par. If he gets a grade below B you might think someone had died.

Teachers know not to refuse him a chance at extra credit. ^

Most kids give him a wide berth ever since one substitute did not take into account the aforementioned. ^ 

But some bullies still bother him. His response is typically the cold shoulder, if they’re just trying to annoy him.

Often has to bail Dewey and Louie out of fights.

Once a teacher called Dewey a “hopeless case” right to his face and needed to be taken to the ER with a staple embedded in their nose. Donald bought him a new model airplane when Huey came home on suspension and told him what happened.


Someone get this kid a sandwich.

^ I say because Dewey has all the energy, none of the appetite and all of the metabolic rate. For being sporty, boundless and always ready to start trouble Dewey is actually pretty scrawny in his teen years. Eventually he’ll grow into a similar body type to Scrooge and Donald. 

Underdog Jock. Whether its a football match, dodgeball or even wrestling Dewey is this. Nobody roots for him, but everyone secretly knows he’ll end up winning anyway. Is it pure determination or hidden skill? Probably the former. But whatever drove this kid when he was ten drives him into highschool and beyond. Dewey comes out on top.

He calls himself a serial romantic. He tries.

He’s not in any clubs. He spends his time during recess out on the field, usually playing soccer or challenging people to races. Spends a lot of time with Webby, who accepts every challenge he throws at her.

King of cross country. This kid can run.

His best subjects are PhysEd, Electronics and, surprisingly to most, Home Economics alongside Huey. They make a pretty good team in the kitchen, combining Dewey’s creativity with Huey’s caution with the stove. Dewey has a good nose for spices.

His worst subjects are Languages, English and History. He has no problems with this.

Gets injured often. Very often. He could walk you all the way to the nurses office if you blindfolded him and spun him around on the spot until he fell over from dizziness.

Picks fights with people who give either of his brothers or Webby so much as a stink eye.


He’s the guy you go to to get things.

Louie wears his waistcoat instead of his hoodie because the teachers grew suspicious of him hiding things in his sleeves. Occasionally the grouchy PE teacher, who has it out for him, will ask him to turn out his pockets in the hall. Louie turns out his outside pockets.

He has pockets stitched onto the inside of his waistcoat.

He sells the things he hides in his pockets. Candy. Concert Tickets you thought had been sold out. Cheat papers. Information.

Gets everything from threats of a beating to sappy love letters slipped into his locker. He doesn’t pay attention to any of the threatening ones, unless he finds them funny. He usually gives the letters back to his admirers with a lollipop and a soft “no thanks”.

Knows the first names of the lunch ladies and the names of all their pets, children and grandchildren. Gets free food all the time.

Lowkey had a crush on his Spanish teacher.

Spanish is a subject he’s very good at. As well as Language Arts, English and Mathematics.

Has been banned from Home Economics.

Has been banned from all vending machines.

Knows how to get two for the price of one from all vending machines.

He’s getting a little chubby. But running around the world with Scrooge keeps him in shape. PE isn’t his worst subject.

Has a lot of trouble with a lot of kids. People out to get him into trouble. Or out to give him a black eye. Either way, he can handle himself in a brawl if the other guy is the same size or thereabout. But if the guy’s bigger… He’s just lucky the big guys aren’t smart enough to know not to mess with him when his brothers are nearby.

Phew! That was a long one. Sorry, folks. But! That’s all I’ve got so you can be thankful it’s over now.

Della’s fallout may be different than what I originally expected.

HDL want to know their mom. They have their chance. She’s missed the majority of their lives. Della wants to know her boys. There are so many things she wants to tell and show them. 

But although they want to get to know each other, although they do get to know each other, Donald is still there.

It can go two ways. The boys go to Della for all things, and Donald feels out of place because of this. He had only taken this parent role due to her absence. 

HDL still go to Donald for more parent things where Della is reserved for adventure/science stuff, and Della doesn’t know what to do this. She is happy to show them the cosmos, but she wants to know about Dewey’s science project, Louie’s favorite shows, and Huey’s Junior Woodchuck Badge Ceremony.

It’s possible it’ll go both ways. Della wants to be a mom. She was deprived of that for over ten years, but there was Donald. He is more than their uncle. He is their dad and parent. He kissed their boo boos. He potty-trained them, sent them to the doctor, helped them with homework, stayed up late during flu and cold season. 

He dished it with Diane at the PTA meetings. He sold those chocolates for those stupid fundraisers. 

Donald doesn’t want to be not be dad, and fears this will change things. And it does. HDL have known nothing except their Uncle Donald, so I am going to say they’re going to idolize Della similar to how Gladstone was idolized, and Della, while flattered, is secretly bothered by this. 

Donald is dad, no matter what. 

Della might have seen the moon and its stars. She might’ve gained the knowledge of the cosmos, but she doesn’t know how to be a mom. She didn’t get the chance, and now, she fears it may be too late.

“It’s okay, Mom. Uncle Donald was there.”

And no matter how happy she is to hear that, Della’s heart breaks.


Whelp….I forgot to specify on that one post that it was for my own personal practice. Now everyone’s gonna know I’m Loubby trash… Oh well. I was having a hard time keeping it in anyway. I guess you guys will see this more often now. 

I drew them in their aged up versions that I did because I feel strange shipping them as children. Is that weird?

For you, my dear @heythatsdeep

anonymous asked:

How do you think the triples would react when Donald starts to date Daisy?

In DT17? It can go many ways.

For instance, I can easily see Huey being the most supportive. “This is great. Finally, Uncle Donald gets to hang out with someone his age for once!”

Dewey would be thrilled because this little butt thinks he’ll be able to sneak out and adventure more if Donald ‘is too preoccupied with his new lady friend.’

Louie wouldn’t be pleased. This new situation would make him anxious, and mildly jealous. He’s very attached and now there’s this new presence who’s also getting more and more attention from Donald when for ten years, his attention had been on just the three of them. He doesn’t know how this new person will affect their family unit and he’s worried.

You’re the Cool Uncle  (i'm not)

Gladstone standing at the door, watching the three nephews shuffle through the dark halls towards Donald’s room. Louie has nightmares- though he’ll never admit it to anyone. It’s not cool. Cool kids don’t have nightmares. And they don’t ask their Uncle to sleep in bed with them while their brothers follow along, rubbing their eyes and dragging their blankets with them. 

He fawns over Gladstone during the day -

I get it, you’re the cool Uncle

- but he’s always the same kid. The one who needed his hand held for shots and who cried, pressed against his uncle’s shirt, breathing in the smell of salt and sand and the bottle of mens dollar store body wash that was all oak and peppercorn. The burnt toast and black coffee he had in the morning, and the clinging exhaustion he did his best never to show. 

Gladstone, watching the kid who just hours before had looked up at him like the herculean blood relative, cracking the door to the master bedroom and whispering the others name. 

He never said Gladstone’s name like that.

Like he survived off it. 

“Uncle Donald?” Shy. Tentative. Clinging to the doorknob. There’s a gentle reply back. A tender quiet. Louie relaxes, shoulders lifting in breath and falling. He sneaks into the darkness of the room, the other two following. There’s the sound of shuffling. Of blankets moving round. 

There’s quiet. 

There’s sleep. 

Gladstone shuts his door and returns to bed alone. 

Tomorrow, Louie will regard him as the star of the studded sky. But there won’t be any denying the way that Louie hangs off Donald’s sleeve and leans against his side when the going gets tough (tough, tougher), and the hollow feeling returns once again. 

Gladstone will always know about night routines; nightmares and hugs and goodnight kisses. 

There’s jealousy. There’s understanding. 

I get it, you’re the cool Uncle. I’m not

Donald is so much more. And it pains Gladstone to know that he’s right. Donald will never be the cool Uncle. 

He’ll be the father. 

And god, isn’t that just so much more. 


Summary: Six months later, Donald learns to survive.
Word Count: 4215

He knew his sister like he knew his own mind, or he thought he did, and that’s the problem isn’t it? 

Donald Duck deserves the moon, stars, and sun for what he’s done for those boys, and you know what…if it was offered he probably wouldn’t accept it. Probably.

As a young duck, Donald relished in the unknown. As a young duck he relished in the unknown. Creatures of archaic origins and Beagle Boys crunched under his temper. This was an appropriate method in approaching a life like his. He had known pretty and fickle women. He still felt the sting of her slap on his right cheek as she sped off on her unicycle. Zealous protectiveness was a hindrance to his adventurous lifestyle.

He fought the Beagle Boys until his knuckles were bruised bloody. A frozen kraken tentacle was preserved for a late night snack in his freezer. Donna’s scent, the touch of her feathers, and the sound of her voice were recalled in fond abstract. It was how most old flames existed in memory.

Donald handled it. He handled it and came out on top. He handled it and came out on bottom.

All it had taken to reverse twenty-five years of reckless, impulsive, and heartbreaking behavior was a lunar goddess’ spear, a missing twin sister, and three, suddenly orphaned, toddlers.

Della sold him his greatest misadventure, and what she left behind too tiny, too fragile, and indescribably heavy for him to handle on his own.

Keep reading

Uncle Scrooge: when Donald isn’t around


If you know my head canon about Huey being the runt of the “litter” (it’s my favorite thing, and if you want to check it out you should) then you’ll know that I’ve talked with a few other people about how Uncle Donald handles it. 

How if there ever was a medical emergency, he’d have to help three children. One, to get him to the hospital, and the other two, to ensure them that their brother was safe, alright, and that he’d come out okay. 

It happens. Sometimes. And whenever it does, he’s never prepared. 

I also spoke about this for Gosalyn and her father. Drake, taking advice from Donald, had heard so many times that you’ll never be ready. And he wasn’t. He never was. “I’ve had them for years,” Donald will say down into his coffee cup, a pile of partially folded red, blue, and green shirts beside him. Gosalyn’s purple ones sit on the edge of the couch. “I’m still shocked. Each time.”

“How can you deal with it?”

Donald swished his cup. “You don’t.” Then, after a sigh, “You just… they’re the priority, you know? You have to make sure they don’t see you flinch. You’ve gotta stay completely calm. Which is hard. Hardest thing I’ve ever done.”


“You get them through, you talk them down, and then when the nurses take over…” he swallowed, “go and have a quick cry in the bathroom.” 

The two fathers handle themselves beautifully. But they’re not composed inside. They never will be. Seeing your child go through something is never easy, and being able to still function afterwords is one of the highest forms of art. 

That being said. 

How would Uncle Scrooge react. 

How would Uncle Scrooge manage.

That’s a real question. Looking at him, from the way he acts and behaves, he relies so heavily on composure, a lack of empathy, and quick wit. 

When that’s gone

When that’s taken

When it’s a child who’s afraid, alone, without his father

When his brothers cling to you, terrified

When your first reaction is so viscerally to push back and run


How would he actually manage. And I know he would. I know he’d eventually troop forward and completely take control. But god… those first few moments for him are a test unlike any. When he can’t just pretend not to know names and can’t brush away questions with answers of his own. 

Uncle Scrooge loves these kids. But in a moment of fight or flight, he’d finally have to show it. And that’s something he won’t ever be prepared for. 

Does Anyone Ever Sit there and Think About

Drake Mallard and Donald Duck calling one another at three in the morning to talk about their children, who just had night terrors, and are currently taking over their beds upstairs? 

Chatting quietly in hushed whispers about how they have to go back soon, the kids need them, and they have to reclaim their space somehow and steal back about a mile of stolen blankets, but god, they’re so lucky, and sometimes they realize it so suddenly that it becomes hard to breathe.

Bye, whispers Donald. 

Talk to you later, Drake will whisper, ascending the stairs, up to where Gosalyn is snoring. On the other line he can hear the peeps and rasps of children who don’t know where their guardian has gone, and his reply back- a hen clucking to its roost.

He hangs up. Goes back to bed. Pulls his own child closer, who clutches to his shirt and sighs so deep he could swear he’d hears her pull back stars.