#I just like mark beaks okay? sue me

[jestierabbit]

N… Nega Mark Beaks

Markus Beaks, intern of Dr. Gyro Gearloose, and (unknowingly) his future replacement.

Young Gyro/Mad Ducktor design by @soulcured my beloved

[ducknotinarow]

“Hey Richy, baby, how do you like your chicken cooked?” Bailey asked, clicking the tongs in his hand, “Rare, medium rare, medium, well done?”  He says, “I’d get mid-rare like how you have steak, but I dunno if it’s different for when we cook chicken-steaks.”

Bailey clearly does not understand that chicken can not be cooked to different stages of done.

[I saw this thing that was like ‘people that cant be in the kitchen’, saw ‘rare chicken tenders’ and here we are u_u]

|muse interaction

"Bailey why in hell, the heaven where else are you in the kitchen?" Were they very first words out of the eagle's beak when seeing his husband just now.

Bailey being in the kitchen was one thing they liked to snack and eat and grab juice...even if they drank out the carton sometimes. Richard would maybe complain about that but well he already drank from the same cups and bottles as them but he at least still marked any cartons for Sue and Buddy just in case. So Bailey in the kitchen wasn't a thing to worry about however when the need to worry did come into call it was like right now as they were standing at the counter looking over the cooking chicken tongs in hand as they seemed to be in thought...now it was time to be worried Richard thought, as he cautiously entered the kitchen getting Bailey's attention with his presence.

“Hey Richy, baby, how do you like your chicken cooked?”

A click of the tongs and Richard left wondering what got into them to wanna cook now...well okay they likely just wanted to try again he just couldn't believe he was unsupervised in the kitchen. And nothing had gone wrong from Bailey just standing in the room alone. Well, nothing was on fire. Yet. Nothing was on fire yet.. He hadn't even really picked up on the question from his husband till he continued it.

“Rare, medium rare, medium, well done?” 

"Uh Bails" Wanting to point out an obvious thing when it came to chicken. But they were still talking before giving him a chance to intervene just yet.

“I’d get mid-rare like how you have steak, but I dunno if it’s different for when we cook chicken-steaks.”

"mi gallo loco. I honestly don't understand how you lived off peanut butter and god knows what else before me." Richard went on to mutter as he walked over to Bailey, he didn't want to full-on discourage the rooster from wanting to cook after all....but this was Bailey and honestly he was surprised nothing was a miss or messed up in the kitchen from Bailey just being in here in the first place. Sometimes Richard swore Bailey didnt need to move an inch or even lift a finger for things to just happen around the rooster. He just had to be there and suddenly fires would break out and stuff would wind up on the floor.

Walking overtaking his attention to the chicken set to cook first before speaking to his own chicken "yeah no it's different if you don't cook it right you'll give people food poisoning." As if Richard hadn't had that a few times himself already. "This chicken shouldn't be had raw." He pointed out, smirking at Bailey when he specified on that wording. chuckling amusing himself because of course Richard thought he was the funniest as well. Looking from where he was standing sure it be easier to just take over but. Staying in his place he decided on "See undercooked chicken juice will run red for one so you should cut to check if it's clear you'll be good." Richard went on to explain stading where he was when speaking, if Bailey was going to try and cook then Richard was going to at least offer a second pair of eyes to watch them as they went about it....and in case it didn't go well he'd just eat it all himself so no one else would wind up sick.

[pilyarquitect]

War for Genius - Chapter 31 - Reaching a diagnosis

Hello everyone! Well, I know the previous chapter was hard for the Duckfam, but I really thought it was necessary for them to know all what Huey had been trough, all what Graves told him, all that he suffered… in order to help him in the best way possible to heal.

For this next chapter, this one starts where the last Huey’s chapter finished, it is, Huey hugging his uncles. Also, in this chapter I’ve put an unexpected encounter. I hope you all will like how this encounter goes 😊 (I’ve to admit this was an idea that suddenly came to my mind and I just had to write it. I hope you’ll like it!

As always, I’d like to thank @empro-8 for helping me editing this story. Honestly, without her help this wouldn’t be as good as it is, so thank you very much @empro-8 you’re amazing!

Welp, I’ll stop talking and let you read the chapter, enjoy it! 😉

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

Scrooge was amazed, to say it lightly. Considering how everyone had seen Huey's reaction when Donald hugged him a few days ago, the fact that now it was the lad who had voluntarily run into their arms was for Scrooge something… unexpected, but deeply wonderful. 

A grateful smile appeared on the old miser's beak. After almost a month since his great-nephew was kidnapped, he was finally able to have some physical contact with him. That was more than he had expected from that visit.

While they were still in the middle of that embrace, someone suddenly knocked on the door, interrupting their brief moment of mutual comfort. Huey was the first to break the embrace, staring at the door with apprehension. Scrooge wasn’t surprised that his nephew was afraid of who would be on the other side of the door. As they saw in the video, a door was the only thing that separated him from his freedom, but, every time the door was opened was for someone to appear who would hurt him. It was logical to think the boy distrusted who might be on the other side.

To be honest, when they entered the room shortly after the boy woke up, his facial expression also showed features like the current one he was wearing.

Yes, surely his nephew would never look at closed doors the same way again.

While Scrooge was distracted analyzing Huey's behavior, Fenton had responded to the knocks. The door opened to reveal Dr. Owlfang behind it, Scrooge instantly noticed that Huey was relieved when he saw the doctor. That made the older duck happy, the boy trusted the owl, that was good.

The doctor, seeing the two adult ducks and Huey standing next to him, was slightly surprised and quickly rushed to say:

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

Scrooge looked at Donald, who with an understanding look told him to be the one to answer. So, the older duck raised his arms and said:

"No, no, ye didn't interrupt anything doctor, don't worry."

Then the duck in the top hat cleared his throat and added:

"Did ye want to tell us something?"

The doctor – who seemed to have been momentarily distracted – focused his attention on the rich Duck and answered:

"What? Oh well, I was actually coming to see my favorite patient."

There was a slight giggle from Huey. The older triplet said looking at the doctor:

"Surely you tell all your patients that.” 

The doctor smiled tenderly, leaned over to the duckling, and replied cheerfully:

"Maybe, but in your case Huey, it's true."

Scrooge smiled too, from the way that owl treated his nephew, it was easy to see why the lad trusted him. Huey was clearly in good hands. Scrooge noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw it was his nephew who had stepped toward Dr. Owlfang. The sailor-dressed duck asked:

"And why do you want to see him doctor?"

The doctor looked at them both and replied:

"Partly to assess his physical condition, since he has been recovering surprisingly fast. And partly… well, that would be a private thing between Huey and me, if you don't mind."

Scrooge was surprised and apparently Donald also made a strange face, since the doctor hastened to explain:

"As soon as the evaluation is over, I hope I can give you a diagnosis."

The rich duck understood instantly, Dr. Owlfang wanted to psychologically evaluate his nephew to find out what was the best treatment the lad could receive.

Guessing his intentions, the rich duck put a hand on the duck dressed as a sailor and gently began to guide him towards the exit of the room, saying:

"Oh yeah right, we get it. we’ll give yeh privacy."

"Yes, please," said the healthcare professional as he nodded.

Scrooge nodded back and concluded the conversation by saying:

"Okay, we'll wait outside."

The three adult ducks then left the room, leaving Huey and the doctor alone. Once in the hall, Fenton said to the other two ducks:

"Every day he does the same. He stays alone with him to ask him questions, I hope he can tell us something soon.” 

"What kind of questions?" a voice asked suddenly.

The three ducks turned towards the source of the voice and saw there a female duck with green plumage and blond hair. As soon as he recognized her, Scrooge glared, pointed at her with his index finger, and shouted:

"AQUACK! What are ye doing here? How could ye get in when the press was banned from the hospital?!"

Completely ignoring his outburst, the journalist with her microphone in hand, turned to the camera that accompanied her and began to speak:

“With all of you, Roxanne Featherly. We are live at Duckburg Central Hospital. I am here with Scrooge McDuck and companions who are visiting his hospitalized nephew."

Then she turned to him and continued saying:

“Tell me Mr. McDuck, is it true that your nephew was kidnapped by Mark Beaks? What reasons did he have for doing so? How did you know-? "

"What do ye think ye're doing ?!" Scrooge suddenly interrupted with a furious expression.

The reporter looked a! Indigent voice, asked:

"Excuse me?"

Scrooge grunted slightly and pointing up and down the aisle and exclaimed:

“This is a hospital! Ye can't come here and mug people like this!"

"But Mr. McDuck, our viewers deserve to know the truth," Roxanne tried to reply.

This comment only further enraged the rich duck who angrily pointed at the woman with his cane and said in an extremely harsh voice:

"The truth?! Do ye want the truth?! Well here it is! The truth is that everything regarding my nephew right now is an ongoing police investigation, so ye cannot have details of any kind, unless it is the police who provide them! And do you want another truth?" He took a step towards the increasingly surprised reporter and continued to say with evident anger in his voice:

“Another truth is that your colleagues and I don't know if ye’re one of them, may have caused trauma to my nephew! And if that is true, believe me if I tell ye I am going to sue everyone who was here that day, when my nephew was attacked and pressured to speak to all of ye, no one will go unpunished for this fact!"

His voice reflected such rage towards the press that the woman before him began to sweat. It was more than likely that she too was among those who assaulted Huey when the boy first stepped out into the hall, and now she had to fear the retaliation Scrooge might take against her career for what they did to the boy.

After swallowing, the journalist began to say:

"But Mr. McDuck-"

Scrooge didn't even let her speak by cutting her off to say instead:

"We are done, get out of here!"

Such must have been the harshness in his gaze that Roxanne Featherly widened her eyes in fear and slowly began to back away along with the cameraman beside her until they were both gone from sight. Scrooge, still scowling, turned to look at the other two ducks with him. They were both staring at him with utterly shocked expressions. Both probably surprised at how the rich duck had handled the situation. Fenton seemed to be the first to get over his surprise, and he did so by saying:

"Gee Mr. McDuck, that was… very hard,"

Scrooge opened his beak to reply, but before he could speak, his nephew spoke first, saying:

"Maybe, but I must admit if Uncle Scrooge hadn't, I would have done the same."

Scrooge sighed, actually, he knew that if Donald had been the one to “speak”, that would have been… disastrous. His nephew was too impetuous.

After this brief encounter with the press, Scrooge and Donald told Fenton to go rest. They would wait and let him know when the doctor finished.

Scrooge knew that Fenton appreciated the gesture. The Hispanic duck went for the cafeteria. That would allow him to take a break and also give him the opportunity to eat other foods than just snacks. Perhaps he would even get a chance to eat something hot, since Scrooge was well aware that having to be almost always by Huey's side, Fenton couldn’t… enjoy decent meals. The brown-plumaged duck knew from the other days he had at least a half-hour window of time before the doctor finished his exam on Huey, so he promised he would be back by then.

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

After he was done eating, Fenton returned with the two other adult ducks, and he did so just as the doctor finally left the room. Fenton took advantage of the moment to enter again with Huey while the two uncles of the older triplet went to speak with the doctor, in a private place to avoid possible spies.

In order to speak in private, the three adults went to the doctor's office. Once inside the office, they sat down, Owlfang on one side of the desk and Scrooge and Donald on the other. The doctor put his hands together and began to speak:

"Before presenting my conclusions, I would like to ask you a question, if you don't mind,"

"Not at all doctor, what do ye want to know?" Scrooge replied calmly. At least, the fury provoked by that… reporter, had already dissipated.

The doctor leaned back in his chair and then asked the two ducks:

"I was wondering… where did Huey get the cap and guide he's wearing now?"

"We brought it to him today," Donald answered casually.

The doctor leaned forward and asked:

"May I ask why?"

Donald was the one who spoke again:

“The explanation is simple. When my nephew was kidnapped, his guide was the only thing we found in the place where the other children were. That made it clear to us that Huey had been there with them when they took him away, but when they caught him, his guide fell,”

Scrooge decided to conclude the explanation himself, narrating the other part:

“And as for the cap, thanks to police investigations, we have learned that his cap was destroyed before his eyes. That's why we thought it would be good for him to bring him these objects that mean a lot to him."

"I understand, you thought it would help him, right?" said Dr. Owlfang with a thoughtful expression.

The two uncles looked at each other momentarily and Scrooge answered for both of them saying:

"Yes… have we done wrong?”

The doctor was quick to clarify the situation, explaining:

“No, no, on the contrary, your assumption was very correct. In fact, I think today is the day I’ve seen Huey happiest since he woke up. Without a doubt these gifts you have brought him have been very good for him,"

"We're glad to hear that," Donald said with a more relaxed expression now. Given his known bad luck, he probably feared that he had made the situation worse, so the doctor's words filled him with joy.

Dr. Owlfang changed his voice’s tone and said:

"Well, this issue settled, I would like to talk to you about another matter,"

"What is it about?" Asked Scrooge. The doctor looked at him and said:

"First of all, I must say that physically, Huey is practically recovered, which means that, in a maximum of two or three days we could discharge him,"

"That sounds wonderful!" said Scrooge cheerfully. But before he could say anything else the doctor said:

"Yes, but…"

"Here we go, there is always a ‘but’" said Donald slightly annoyed.

Ignoring him, Owlfang continued:

"The psychological damage of the little boy still worries me."

Scrooge felt his concern grow, and drawing a little closer he asked:

"What can ye tell us about that?"

The doctor closed his eyes and began to explain:

“Well, Huey is very aware it was Mark Beaks who ordered him to be kidnapped, and he also knows it was he who locked him up, but on the other hand, Beaks has been the only positive stimulus the boy has had during his captivity. I think he has developed… dependence on him, because he constantly asks me where and how he is."

Scrooge's eyes widened, and with slight panic in his voice, he suddenly asked:

"Are ye telling us that Huey has Stockholm syndrome?"

Owlfang sighed and sadly replied:

"It's… too early to say, but it's very likely."

"Oh, curse me kilts!" Scrooge exclaimed. The rich duck was very certain about one thing, that parrot was going to pay for all the damage he had done to his nephew, he was willing to do whatever was necessary to serve justice. His crimes were not going to go unpunished.

Scrooge was so lost in angry thoughts that he was surprised when he heard again the voice of the doctor who continued to explain:

"Also… Huey has developed a deep fear of the other person he interacted with in his time as a prisoner."

"Huey is afraid of Graves?" Donald asked in a slightly shaky voice. The doctor looked at him compassionately and replied:

“Indeed. Although I’m afraid that the fear towards his family, due to the acts of this Graves, is also present. It will take a while for the little one to regain the trust he felt toward his family. Likewise, it will surely take some time to get Huey to see the truth about Beaks."

"So what do ye advise us?" Scrooge asked, honestly, he was very confused about what to do next. He looked at the doctor with pleading eyes. He looked back at him and replied:

“Under normal conditions, once my patient made a full recovery I would send him home. But in this case, I don't know if your house is the best place, at least not with-"

"Not with all of us there," Donald said cutting off the doctor.

The healthcare professional looked at the duck dressed as a sailor and replied:

"Exactly, I must say that Huey seemed happy with the idea of going home, but at the same time, it was clearly visible there was fear in that idea as well."

Scrooge rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then, speaking thoughtfully, suggested:

"What if… just as Fenton has been here with him all these days, he too comes to live in the mansion, albeit temporarily, while he learns to trust us again?"

The doctor opened his beak to speak, but didn’t say anything. Actually, he remained quiet for several seconds, thus generating an awkward silence. When Scrooge began to entertain the idea of saying something, Owlfang suddenly broke the silence:

"That… is not… a bad idea, he would be in a familiar and comfortable environment for him and with someone to help him adjust to his old life again, but as I said before, it’ll probably be a long process."

Scrooge nodded and said:

"We get it, all we want is for Huey to go back to his old self,"

Owlfang closed his eyes and clenched his hands. He said:

“You must be aware this may never happen. He’ll improve, I assure you, but I doubt he’ll be who you expect again."

The two uncles looked at each other. Scrooge knew that both Donald and he wanted Huey to go back to being his usual self, but it didn't seem like an option…

"Knowing he’ll get better is enough for now," said Donald, expressing what both ducks were thinking. Scrooge simply nodded and replied:

"I agree."

The doctor nodded. Taking out a piece of paper and a pen he wrote something, when he finished, he handed the paper to the two ducks at the same time saying:

"The only thing I can do now is to recommend a specialist. A good therapist that I trust will be able to help him."

Taking the paper in his hands, Scrooge looked again at the doctor and asked:

“Can't you do it? Huey seems to trust you a lot,"

Owlfang shook his head, and speaking with a certain sadness in his voice, he explained:

“I'm afraid is beyond my specialty. I have only done a preliminary exam, but I’m not an expert on the subject, as much as I want to, I don’t think I’m the best candidate to help your nephew,"

The two uncles looked at each other again and after a brief nod from Donald, Scrooge looked back at the doctor and replied softly:

"Okay. We understand, thank you for everything ye've done for him so far,"

Owlfang smiled gently and gratefully. Later, the bird with a white coat replied:

"It’s been a pleasure, I'm glad I was able to help him. No one deserves to go through what that boy went through."

Scrooge smiled sadly, he sincerely thanked the doctor for everything he had done for the lad, and although everyone wanted Huey to be his old self again, what the doctor said was true. Huey had suffered damage that could truly be irreparable, the only thing they could do was try to minimize that damage as much as possible, helping and supporting the older triplet so that he could in time, would trust them again. Besides, having Fenton with them would probably help. So, determinately, the rich duck spoke again:

"Well then, when you discharge Huey, we’ll take him to the mansion – if the boy is okay with it – and if Fenton agrees, he’ll temporarily come to live in the mansion as well."

Donald looked at him with a smile on his beak and said:

"That sounds like a plan." 

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

Welp, so… Scrooge really can’t stand press. Especially Roxanne Featherly. Knowing what the reports did to Huey, it was obvious Scrooge wouldn’t be nice with them in their next meeting, but it would be worse if this meeting took place in the hospital where they were supposedly forbidden to be. I hope you liked this. Also, what do you think of what doctor Owlfang told to Scrooge and Donald? Let me know your opinions.

I’ve a great new! This Monday, I’ll start publishing another story, but this story is from another fandom. This story is about some French comics and movies I used to read and watch when I was a child. The name of those comics is: Asterix and Obelix, and the story is about a Gaul village who on 50 b.C. bravely resists Roman domination and fight against all the Empire attempts to conquer them. If you want to give this story a chance, is named: “Getafix’s mistake”.

Okay, after say that, I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I also would like to thank to all the people who’d read this story, the ones who commented, those who reblogged it and: @mysteriouswriter72 @elianemariane17 @araminakilla20 @hakuneki07 @i-cant-find-any-creative-name @gizmovi @some-dum-wizard-bitch @infamousquack  @margaretnobbs @alphatheplant @sugerheart @squackcrowquack @nsbfenro @marshmeadow12 @ohgeeeznotagain @constellations1 @isabellanajera @you-big-palooka @deathcat003 @dragonsareawesome123 @via15 @wellshit333 @ninjawarrior100 @your-salty-dorito @rowan-npg @thesuperepicawesomefireninja @duckworth-is-love @worldsbesteagle @shaz231 @cherriesandpoison @softlemonboi @rosebu-uds @mulaneysnl @ihavenonamehalp @drummergirl231 @narnour-momo-007 @via15 @trash-queen-fahey @gamerfansims389 @lesbianz4glomgoldje @jessie-00 @maclove54north @northofanvi @maditheanimaniacuwu @gabrielpainterfest-blog @Variousfandompage @whiteeyesandtina @official-toebeans @r6sedust @gabrielpainterfest @obsessionhell @werdna213 @chydesa-star @a-stupid-girl @fudgecantlife @elipaghy04 @whisperwillyou @fnafgirl30 @exceeeed-charger2020

And if I’ve forgot someone, I’m sorry

See you in the next chapter 😉

[all-lars-bars]

I present to you,

My Ducktales Sona!

Yes, they're a cockatiel and not a duck, sue me.

I saw @kcrobotix 's Sona, and and it reminded of another sona (not Ducktales, but also a cockatiel) I made a while back, so why not make them Ducktales?

So Laura works at McDuck Enterprises as an animator for films and instructional videos. They have the ability to mimic other people's exact voices with ease and are able to make people do what they want by just ordering them to (because magic, obviously), however they do not like using this power because morals and shit. Scrooge did offer them and office of their own, but it was too quiet and dull and the WiFi was sooooo slow, so they just decided to have their little workplace in a corner of Gyro's lab because it was much more interesting down there. Gyro didn't like that one bit, but gave up trying to get them out after they refused 100 times. Also whenever Gyro is exceptionally frustrated, Laura always asks him what's bothering him or "Do you want to vent?" Fenton, Gyro, and Laura all love to talk shit about Beaks.

I love Mark Beaks as a character, but not as a person, okay?

Some doodles below the cut :)

I was having fun with outfits and such.

[quiescentem-puella]

Some thoughts about the Ducktales reboot

People who know me will not be surprised by this. And by this I mean a 1000 words essay about a cartoon.

I’m passionate about Disney. Sue me.

I’ve got strong feelings about the old Ducktales. And when I say strong feelings I mean that when they announced a reboot, I was weeping with joy and simultaneously got ready to kill and slay everyone who didn’t do justice to this pillar of my childhood.

After the first episode, I wasn’t that satisfied.

It wasn’t bad per se, but in comparison to the adventures I remembered from my childhood it was bleak, insipid. There was a lot of potential and I liked the aura of mystery around Scrooge and Donald relationship, but it wasn’t enough to cover the lack of real adventure. The humour was there and it was good, mind you, but it all felt so downsized compared to the hype that had grown in me after the first news were released.

From then on, it all went downhill.

I don’t know what the writers were aiming at. Actually, that’s a lie: I perfectly understood their purpose. The point was to introduce all the characters in the first episode and then explore each one of them, concentrating on one duck or another according to the episode. It wasn’t necessarily a bad idea but for me this direction contained one big, unforgivable flaw: Scrooge McDuck was relegated to a supporting character.

I understand that children nowadays are more interested in seeing movies, books and cartoons where the protagonists are like them; it is expected, supported even. We are talking, however, about Ducktales. In the old series the nephews were marginal, indistinguishable from one another, and the real protagonist was Scrooge freakin’ McDuck – the richest, boldest, sharpest duck in the world. He was the one leading the team, the one you were really interested in, because everyone else was a sidekick, a supporting character.

So the first episode was okay, but nothing extraordinary. The second ("Daytrip of Doom!") and the third one ("The Great Dime Chase!") were fun, but I hated the absence of Scrooge in the former and the way they warped Gyro Gearloose’s character in the latter. I found "The Beagle Birthday Massacre!" bad, but not cringe-worthy. And then. The Bad One. The unforgivable offense to the old Ducktales, to Carl Barks and to every single Ducktales’s fan.

The episode titled "Terror of the Terra-firmians!".

I will never forgive the producers and the writers for this felony. Never. “Terror of the Terra-firmians!” could have been acceptable if the show was an original, written from the scratch, but this was not the case. I had great expectations for this one – we would finally see a Barks’ adventure, the old uncle and his family working as one against (or even together with) the Terries and the Fermies. I didn’t care about the background story. I did not care if it was their first encounter with the creatures or if Uncle Scrooge and Donald had already met them. I didn’t care one single bit if they would encounter them because they were investigating the mysterious earthquakes that put the Money Bin in danger or because they dissolved their way through Terry Fermy with Gyro Gearloose latest invention. I did not care, not at all. All I wanted was a family adventure, rich with easter eggs from Barks’ works.

Alas, something entirely different expected me. What I got instead was a journey of self-discovery for the nerdy, checklist-obsessed nephew that only wears red (you didn’t expect me to actually remember their names, did you?) and a punch line that relied entirely on the fact that nobody would care so much about terra-firmians, but everyone would be delighted to discover they were just like us. Except rounder and made of rock.

The punch line wasn’t intrinsically bad. It made me laugh actually! But the entire episode completely betrayed what I was expecting – a Carl Barks’ story – and left me with a bitter taste in my mouth.

If I had concluded my experience with the Ducktales reboot here, on such a bad note, I wouldn’t have recommended watching it to anyone. “Sure, it’s a fun way to pass some time, but nothing like the old show” I would have said, deep of regret and sorrow (and yes, I would have been that dramatic). The reboot had disappointed me greatly. I did not have a reason to go on with it.

And yet, I persisted. Maybe it was nostalgia, maybe it was because I love Uncle Scrooge and Donald Duck too much, maybe I was simply bored. Fact is, I watched the following episode.

And boy, was I overjoyed.

"The House of the Lucky Gander!" is everything "Terror of the Terra-firmians!" was not. It’s fun and fast-pacing, it has Scrooge, Donald, the nephews and Webby all together, Gladstone and Launchpad are also there and it’s good. We see every nephew being characterized but without it being boring or damaging to the plot; there’s a wonderful contraposition between Donald and Gladstone but without antagonizing the luckiest duck in the world; there’s action and suspense.

There’s one thing that the reboot did it better than the original and it’s the character of Donald Duck. Mostly absent in the 80s series, Donald gets his chance to shine in the sixth episode by being the usual unlucky, short-tempered fellow with an heart of gold and a penchant for never giving up. "The House of the Lucky Gander!" is not only a great adventure with a supernatural twist, but also a sweet payback for all those times where Donald Duck was ignored.

It’s not only his strengths we get to see. Even when uncle Scrooge doesn’t have a vital role we get to see his most cunning, sly side and the few moments where he’s the protagonist are great.

"The House of the Lucky Gander!" has it all: adventure, gags and some sweets moment between the characters.

From that point onward the episodes get better: “The Infernal Internship of Mark Beaks!” is fun and has a great rhythm while “The Living Mummies of Toth Rah” is silly in a way that makes you laugh instead of cringe.

It’s crazy how a single episode changed my opinion on the reboot so drastically. Maybe it’s only me, maybe others didn’t find the sixth episode to be so good, but if you ask me my opinion about the new Ducktales I’ll tell you this: watch it. Until at least the sixth episode.

[theatreodyssey]

just for tonight [ jeremy heere x reader ]

Summary : Jeremy Heere is a socially ostracized teen boy at a Halloween party. After a meeting with his high school bully, Rich, he decides to get a supercomputer implanted in his brain to make him cooler. His friend, (Y/N), who is completely opposed to the idea lets their feelings spill when they take Jeremy onto the dance floor. An emotionally-charged kiss that never should have happened may end up being the best thing that happened to either of them.

Warning : arguments, drug mentions, underage drinking

Disclaimer : I do not own Jeremy, or any characters from Be More Chill. I don’t own you either.

Word Count : 2566

Author’s Notes : This is based more on the book than the play, since I haven’t gotten around to actually seeing it. It’s also written from Jeremy’s point of view, as it’s based on the novel. Also, I don’t condone underage drinking or drug use, but it’s canon in the book, so it felt right to include it.

Standing up against the wall of the Halloween dance, I watch Christine grind on Jake in her costume. Next to me, Rich, dressed as a giant weed leaf, drones on a little more about the squip. Hopefully, it’ll make me cooler. I can research it later, but right now, I’m at a party.

“Jere-bear?” I cringe at the juvenile nickname. There’s only one person in the world that calls me that, and that’s one too many.

“(Y/N)! Yeah?” I turn over to see a giant bird. Well, it’s not a bird literally, but my view of their face is obstructed by a plague doctors mask with a black beak that juts out a couple of inches from their face, and it makes them look like a crow or a raven of some sort. I’m not sure if that’s what they’re going for, because the rest of their costume doesn’t scream traditional plague doctor. Their entire form is draped over with a dark cloak. I catch myself wishing that they were wearing less.

“So, the Humiliation Sheets…” Their speech is muffled slightly through the mask, and their eyes are hidden behind the goggles of it. I hate that. They could have their eyes anywhere right now, and I’d never know. Not that they’d see much, as it’s rather dark in the party room. My own mask is still down, but I can rarely keep my anonymity around (Y/N). We’ve been friends since middle school, and they know me way too well.

Of course. The sheets that I mark all my daily humiliating events on. It hasn’t even been a day since my secret got out, and news has already spread from the popular kids to my unpopular friend. “That’s not why you came over here, right?” I know them, and this isn’t why they want to talk.

“Come dance with me.” They avoid the question completely. I glance onto the dance floor at all of my peers moving around in the overly obnoxious flashing lights. I’m not a good dancer by any means, but (Y/N) tilts their bird head at me and I can’t reject them when all they want to do is dance.

It’s not just dancing, of course. They want privacy in a crowded place, and the only way to keep our conversation quiet while still talking over the music is to get close. I take their hand and we make our way to the edge of the dance floor with them leading the way. Their hands gravitate toward my neck and wrap around me. I’m a little confused. All the other couples are grinding or convulsing in one way or another, and these songs don’t seem like slow dance jams, but (Y/N) was the one that wanted to dance, so I’ll sway if they really want me to.

I let my hands land on their hips. “You were listening, right? To my conversation with Rich about the squip?” I don’t see a point in swaying out here for nothing, so I get right to figuring out what they actually want to say to me.

“Not on purpose, but I heard everything.” They assure me in a chipper voice. Their posture is much too good, and they’re as stiff as I am (which is very stiff).

“You don’t like the idea of me being liked.” I lift my mask up and wear it on my head rather than my face. They do the same, and now their beak is sticking up in the air like a horn.

“You’re already liked, Jeremy,” They spin me a little and I feel the passion fill the room. They hate it when I get down on myself. “I don’t like the idea of you selling everything that makes you you for a couple of nights with pretty girls.”

“It’s not just that! I need help, (Y/N). All I ever wanted was to make it through school. And Christine. So, if this thing can make me cooler, I’ll take it.” My voice is rising now, but I doubt anyone can hear anything over the music. The lights are low, and (Y/N) and I are rather close. We’re a lot closer than we were just a couple of minutes ago. I don’t think that they notice, but I do. It’s actually better, I think. I don’t have to actually yell to yell at them.

“How cool can the squid make you if it lets Rich dress like that?” They lean their head over to Rich, who is still against the wall scoping out the Hot Girls. He’s been with every one of them, and he’s painted head to toe in green. I get what they’re saying. He’s dressed as a giant weed leaf with arms and legs (even more ridiculous than what I’m donning at the moment) and he still is considered cool because of his squip. (Y/N) means to deter me, but honestly, I just want it even more. I’ll talk to Rich again soon.

“It’s squip, (Y/N).” I correct them. I try not to do it in a mean way, since I am the one who mistook the word for “quick” not just ten minutes ago.

“That’s even dumber.” They chuckle slightly, their grip on my shoulders stiffening. They lean into me and I instinctively wrap my arms tighter around their waist. Even though we’ve known each other since 6th grade, their laugh seems different every time I hear it. It sounds new. I wish I could hear it more. Is that normal? I don’t have many friends. Are these normal friend-thoughts?

“Have you been drinking, Jere?” Their voice breaks me from my thoughts. I have to restrain myself from rolling my eyes because I know what they’ll say when I tell them the truth, and I can’t lie to them.

“Scotch. A little bit.” I glance at the wooden panels on the dimly lit floor. Various colors of lights dance across the floor. I feel a sudden aching in my chest.

“Aw hell, Jeremy.” They say under their breath. It’s a lot nicer than what I thought was coming my way, but I still snap at them.

“Why are you always such a buzzkill?” I whisper-yell. Not quite sure how people do that, but it’s possible. I regret it as soon as the words leave my mouth. Their eyes widen at my tone, and I think I need to add another section to my Humiliation Sheets.

Saying something I shouldn’t have. Being mean to a friend. Mistreating others.

I can’t decide a category. Of course, I could put it under a Mortification Event.

“Sue me,” There’s the snarky (Y/N) I expected. “I care about my neurological development. Y'know that illegal drugs are illegal to minors for a reason, right? Your brain doesn’t stop developing until age 24, so please take care of yourself.” The end of their speech is so soft and quiet that I can barely hear. If I wasn’t so focused on their slightly parted lips, which are mildly pink due to them ingesting a copious amount of punch, I may not have been able to make out what they told me.

I never give them enough credit for caring about me as much as they do.

Still, they’re annoying as hell. It’s not their job to lecture me when all I did was sip from Rich’s flask. “Maybe you should get a squip,” I press. “You’d sure be more fun to hang around.” That’s probably a lie. They know all the social rules, they just maintain the opinion that the rules are all stupid. The squip would only tell them what they already know, and they would seldom ever listen.

“Maybe I should. Maybe I’ll listen to it and bully great guys who’ll write it down on Humiliation Sheets. Are you really considering this, Jeremy? You could lose yourself. What if you become the people that you hate?” They have a point. Rich bullied me because his squip told him soon. What if I landed on someone’s Humiliation Sheets?

That’s a risk I’ll take.

“I just want to be cool, (Y/N). You wouldn’t understand. You’re smart and gorgeous and you could get anyone in the school, if you really wanted to!” All true. The reason that they’ve stuck around with me for 5 years now still alludes me.

“I don’t want to lose you! I know that you don’t think you’re cool, but you’re just about the best person I know, so why can’t you just get your eyes off Christine for a second to realize that there are actually good people that love you, just as you are!” Their eyes are puffy and lined with tears that they try to blink away, and I’m quite sure that my entire face is red. Luckily for me, it’s dark. Unluckily for them, the lights reflect off their teary eyes and make them glow rather brightly. If they weren’t red and full of tears that I caused, I’d think that they were pretty. Vibrant as always.

“Don’t hold me back just because you know that you’d be so goddamn lonely at the bottom of the social food chain if I had a better life!” I can’t seem to stop. I dig my hole deeper and deeper. I’m hurting them, and I don’t stop. They’re caring, and I don’t quite know how to deal, so I push them away. My arms loosen around their waist. Their arms tighten around my neck.

They look down at my chest. I’d be self conscious, but they’ve been my friend for years now and I doubt that they’re still at flight risk. A sigh escapes them, and I watch their eyes flash back up to me before landing on our shoes. Our feet move with the blaring rhythm of the music. “So, you’re really going through with this?” They inquire in a low voice.

“I think so.” They already know that I’m set on this. They just don’t want to believe it, but they’re not me.

“It’s your choice. I’ll just miss you.” Geez. I wish I could remind them that I’m not dying, but I can’t conceive a way to tell them without coming off like an even bigger jerk than I am. I bet a squip could tell me a proper thing to say.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” That’s an okay start, “You know that we’ll still be friends, right?”

“Right,” They give me a half-hearted smile. I wish they would smile more. It looks so good on them. It looks like what you’d expect when opening up a lifestyle magazine to a page about happy teens doing happy things, except this is real. (Y/N) is that kind of unedited beautiful. “You’re not getting with Christine tonight. She’s all over Jake.” They tilt their head and motion to Christine. With me swaying with (Y/N), I forgot the actual reason I came here.

“Thanks for reminding me.” I deadpan. I mean it as a half joke, and I’m relieved to see them giggle and glance up at me. Their shoulders bounce up and down; I love when shoulders do that. I feel like if your jokes are good enough to move a person’s mouth and lungs, that’s good, but to move a person’s body because they like you that much is even better. They get what I mean.

“Let me finish,” They smirk at me and relax a bit as they lean closer to me. “You’re not getting with Christine, so I don’t see that there’d be anything wrong with getting with someone else tonight. Kids at our school have done much worse. Do you see an issue with getting with someone else?” One of their eyebrows rises.

“Not particularly. Why do you ask?” Now it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. I feel like I look like an idiot. If it were a conversation with anyone else, I’d be putting a lot more limitations on my expressions. Just as we spin, I step into a green spotlight and scrunch my face at the sudden change.

“You look cute, Jeremy.” Only (Y/N) doesn’t say that. A part of me wishes that they did.

“Do me a favor, Jeremy,” is how their next sentence actually begins, “Because you’re such a great friend.” They add quickly. Their eyes flicker around uncomfortably.

I lean closer to their face, my voice laced with concern, “What is it?”

“Kiss me. Just for tonight, can I be with you?” They won’t look me in the eyes, and their legs are a bit more shaky than before. Their eyes are glued on our shuffling shoes.

It takes me what feels like a full minute to process their request. (Y/N) wants me. I remove a hand from their waist and lift their chin up as gently as I can. Looking into their eyes, I don’t see anything wrong with kissing them. Actually, it feels as if it’s the only thing right.

They’re so nice, and hell they’re so cute.

I lean in somewhat slowly, partially afraid that they’ll pull away and laugh at me for thinking that they were serious. Inhaling sharply, I ghost my lips over theirs, and feeling the slight tinge of contact makes my entire face feel numb. It feels as if my entire face was dipped into bubbles. Don’t know why I know that feeling so well, but it’s a gentle and electrical feeling. It’s foreign and really nice.

They press their mouth to mine, and I feel the warmth of them radiate through my spine. Their lips are soft and taste of the punch. They’re moving on mine in a way that I’m too nervous to reciprocate, so I stay relatively stagnant for the first few seconds. I still can’t believe that this is happening. I know they feel my apprehension, because they begin to shy away from me, pulling back slightly.

I panic. I don’t want this kiss to end.

I grasp desperately at their ebony fabric until their torso is pressed against mine and my mouth is moving feverishly atop theirs. I need them to know that I want this. They seem to relax, letting themselves melt into me. My eyes flicker open for just a moment. I want to see them.

Pulling away, I let my tongue graze their bottom lip. It was probably awkward, but I don’t care at this point. It was nice. I blush and place my mask back over my face as a gentle reminder to myself that I can’t do it again, as much as I want to.

It shouldn’t have happened in the first place, but I’m so glad that it did.

“Jeremy?” Their mask is also on at this point, and I’m faced with the leathery beak of a plague doctor instead of the pretty face of my good friend.

“Yes?” I sound almost sad.

“Get that squip, if you want. But I want you to know: you’re doing pretty good without it. You’re a good person without it.” They give me that pitiful “thanks for being a friend” kind of shoulder pat, and then all I can do is watch their cloaks swing over the dance floor as they walk away and fade into the crowd of the party.

I’ve really got some things to figure out.