suddenly, ducks

brie | she/her ✨ flintheart glomgold is my patronus ✨ welcome 2 my brand new duck blog like i made it today oop

[sharkbombglomgold]

i’m sure this has been done before but i’m new to the fandom so here u go anyway!! 

 (the weird lighting is because Launchpad is supposed to be watching TV, if that’s not clear. I couldn’t figure out how to add the actual unit in the shot WELP)

[sharkgill]

sharpies

Follow me on Instagram and Twitter @sharkgill_

[skidar]

I GOTCHA!

Not sure for how long but I gotcha!

I can’t wait for more Darkwing and Gizmo interactions! I love the idea of a completely one-sided rivalry. Or one finding out the other’s secret identity and then them running into each other in public and being like 0.0 Crap I know you’re a super hero! I have so many theories and fun ideas <3 I want to draw them all!

[lanthart]

🦆🦆🦆💕

[iamthehousethatfloats]

I feel like I already reblogged this but if I did OH WELL have it again 💖💖💖

[mousefeelings]

please sign my petition to bring back Sharkbomb

[hotelmenetekel]

anyways, follow my duckblog @transcaballeros lol

[khionkhrayon]

Sweet Nightmares, kids!!

😴😴😴

[the-french-belphegor]

DUCK TWINS, WHOO-HOO!

Kinda companion piece to my August 2017 drawing of these two dorks. That season 2 finale, though <3333

[kevinarsenault]

Just bringing in the gay here!

[chelshiart]

cant let the kids know you're going on anime adventures without em

[relatablepicsofdonaldduck]

[ducksiblingrivalry]

okay theory…

I don’t trust those damn vultures. And Frank said “spoilers” when someone asked about Della’s transmissions.

I think they know she’s alive, but don’t want Scrooge to spend the money to get to her.

This isn’t a bulletproof theory. We don’t know how long it takes for the transmissions to get to earth, and I have no idea how the vultures would get the transmissions and not Scrooge (though we did see them dragging Scrooge away from mission control…).

Still. I do not trust them. At all.

[ducksiblingrivalry]

HEY Y’ALL I FOUND IT

so now that we know that the buzzards are F.O.W.L., I have more to add to this theory.

I think they knew Della was alive, but wanted her to stay in the moon to keep Scrooge broken and compliant. Remember the pilot? Scrooge just kind of listened to their proposed budget cuts (all of which were adventure based) and then went home. He had no energy or motivation to argue.

When Della disappeared, Scrooge lost Donald along with her. He became a bitter old recluse. Louie even said: “You used to be a big deal, what ever happened to you?!”

If Della came back, Scrooge would have her back, and there was a chance he and Donald could reconcile, and then there would be three kids in his life to train up to be just like him. Three rambunctious, spirited young kids to propel him back to a life of adventure, where he could be a nuisance for any evil plans. They couldn’t have that, now could they?

The plan worked for ten years.

And then Donald needed a babysitter.

[sharkbombglomgold]

[drakepad] tomorrow will be beautiful

When Drake wakes up, it’s not slow or gentle; it’s knives on his skin, fire in his bones, and a particularly exuberant jack hammer in his brain. 

It feels like a normal Tuesday. Except, when he forces his eyes open, he’s not blinking up at his dark ceiling, his heavy curtains protecting him from the sun’s cheer. Instead, he’s squinting into painful fluorescent lighting, wondering just how hard he hit his head. “DW! You’re alive!”  He doesn’t jump at the voice, because he’s Darkwing Duck and nothing startles Darkwing Duck.

It’s also because the rest of his body refuses to move.

“Obviously,” Drake mutters, eyelids snapping shut. At the moment, he can only handle one assault on his senses and the voice is loud. “Could you keep it down, please?”

“Sorry!” the voice whispers, though even its whispers are loud and stage-like. It repeats, “DW! You’re alive!” with the same excitement as earlier and Drake’s headache somehow lessens.

“Of course I’m alive,” Drake retorts, trying to decide whether to reopen his eyes all at once or one at a time. “I’m Darkwing Duck! A simple...a simple... a simple, uh, what was I fighting again?”

“Aliens! An invasion! The moon!”

“Right! The...moon? The moon can’t stop me! I’m Darkwing Duck!” He may have said that already. 

It’s fine. It bears repeating.  “Nothing can stop Darkwing Duck!” the voice agrees with such conviction that Drake decides to rip the band-aid off and get it over with. His eyes pop open and he ignores the fuzzy edges that threaten to overtake his vision, the watery buildup. Launchpad is sitting next to his hospital bed, practically vibrating with a special kind of excitement that Drake is becoming increasingly familiar with. 

“You’re not wearing one of those hideous moon outfits. Does that mean we won?” “We did! I was a rock!” Even though it stretches his split beak and makes him want to scream a little, Drake allows himself a smile. That’s just so Launchpad. “I’m sure you were very brave for a lot of people.” “Uh, I guess so? I mostly just got fired into a spaceship window. Mr. McD had to dress like Santa, so I think he was the bravest of us all. The sharks in parkas did their part, too, though. Oh! And so did the giant sea bug thing that,” here, Launchpad lifts his hands and begins counting off on his fingers, “Dewey, Huey, Louie, Webby, Donald, Della, their cousin Fethry and their cousin Gladstone rode in on.”

One of the reasons Drake lo- likes Launchpad so much is that Launchpad is incapable of being facetious or lying; everything he says is exactly how he experiences it and how he feels.  If it were anyone else, Drake would assume he was being fed a story. 

But since it’s Launchpad, Launchpad is just looking at him earnestly, like everything coming out of his mouth is making sense. It’s in that moment that Drake realizes he’s still unconscious. He must be.

Especially because, when he shoots his gaze to the side, he notices that Launchpad is holding his hand. Casually. Like it’s a thing they do. 

“Hmm, that’s nice,” he says. This is a dream he doesn’t really want to wake up from. 

He squeezes Launchpad’s hand a few times, just because he can. “When we were hanging out at your place before the invasion, I wanted to straddle you and kiss you until you forgot how to fly a plane,” he admits, also just because he can.

Launchpad squeaks, turning a delightful shade of pink, and Drake takes pleasure in it. Nothing can go wrong in a coma dream.

“Uhhh, jokes on you,” Launchpad chuckles awkwardly, free hand scratching the back of his head and embarrassment still coloring his cheeks, “‘cause I forget how to fly a plan all the time.” Drake smirks, split beak still killing him. It’s weird that he’s hurting while dreaming.  “Cute. Anyway, when I wake up from this, I’m going to ask you out,” he says with the specific brand of confidence he usually reserves for wearing purple. He’s invincible when he’s Darkwing and he’s (probably) invincible when he’s in a dream.

“When you...wait, really??” Launchpad’s face, another thing Drake particularly likes about Launchpad, flickers through several emotions all at once.   “You have to say yes, though. Otherwise I’m not gonna do it.” Launchpad’s hand squeezes his own, tight enough that his healing bones might break all over again. It’s worth it. “You got it, DW,” Launchpad says, strangely sincere even for him.  Then, all at once, darkness begins to pool at the corners of Drake's vision. Maybe it’s the effects of the drugs bleeding through, or maybe it’s just time for the dream to come to an end. Either way, Drake feels himself succumbing to nothingness and goes willingly.  It's okay; something in him thrills at the idea of waking up.

- title from Seven by Sleeping At Last (x)

[sharkbombglomgold]

Glomgold: HAHAHA I'VE DEVISED THE PERFECT SCHEME

Glomgold: I WILL MAKE SCROOGIE FALL IN LOVE WITH ME

Glomgold: MARRY ME

Glomgold: THEN DIVORCE HIM AND TAKE HIS FORTUNE

Glomgold: MAKING ME THE RICHEST DUCK IN THE WORLD!!!!!

50 years later

Glomgold, married to Scrooge with ten shark children about to graduate college with honors: JUST AS I PLANNED