FROY GUTIERREZ

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, PTSDee (S12E07)

they weren't usually the nag, the one to hold anyone accountable, so dewey felt they were due dew a little bit of annoyance. just once. they're rubbing the bridge of their nose, a self soothe picked up from some duck or another along the years, and they take a second before even attempting to answer the stupid question "you know what, i'm all for sexual liberation, obviously, but—" no. nope. he's not gonna do it. he's not gonna let this whole abandonment ruin his day. louie would just have to make it up "just go put some fucking clothes on." keys jingle, being taken from their pocket and held up to louie's eyeline "meet me in the garage, yooouuu owe me a hangout. and an explanation."

louie had only just stepped out of his private bathroom, towel around his hips, when he heard the voice of his older sibling. he sighed deeply to prevent rolling his eyes. he figured this was coming when he bailed on his plans with them, but when he saw- what was her name again- whoever she was, plans simply had to change. his eyebrows shot up, "an intervention?" he couldn't help but laugh in response, "an intervention about what?" he crossed his arms over his bare chest, but listened to his sibling nonetheless. the smile couldn't be wiped from his face, "dew, that's so fucking funny. i don't know how you could expect anything less of scrooge, three might even be a record low for the guy at the rat's,"

📍new hope hospital 𖨆 anyone @evermorehqsstart

"quinoa salad !" they don't realize they're interrupting the silence of the waiting room— well, register that there was silence in the waiting room, until eyes are on them. they're grinning sheepishly, a mask of embarrassment, something more socially acceptable than the shamelessness they usually carry "the, uh, the answer. quinoa salad." they point to where the tv in the corner of the room is playing wheel of fortune with a hand wrapped in a startlingly crimson stained white towel. tiger accident. happens everyday.

📍mcduck residence 𖨆 louie @mcbucks

dewey was already on the warpath for dew's younger sibling, that was just made worse by the fact that before dew could reach their door, they were escorting an unfamiliar girl out of the room "who the f— okay, now this is an intervention." they hiss the last part, smiling politely at louie's guest and waving as she leaves, turning to their younger brother with a raised eyebrow. it was huey's job to keep them in line, dew didn't particularly care who lou had over, they weren't much better, but... "i thought we were gonna go to the rat's last night," he spent way too much time at house of mouse, but it was all for nostalgia's sake. he'd thought his siblings were on the same page "you left me alone with uncle scrooge— and he sent back his food three times ! "

"huh." a sound of consideration as their finger runs over the (likely fake) fur of a squirrel tail "yeah, i'll buy it, i've gotta show someone." someone being huey, who probably knew a lot more about this due to his scout experience. it wasn't that they thought squucks were real necessarily, but had grown up with enough knowledge about how large and mysterious this world was. not that they could ever get to explore it, but.. "so this is.... what, a fuckin' knick knack shop? i thought it was a museum."

Eyebrows lifted, Wendy slowly sat up, feet removed from the desk and planted on the floor beneath their seat, magazine tossed aside. This kid was way more interesting than fashion advice they'd never follow. "No shit, Sherlock." She couldn't figure out whether to laugh or not, but amusement shone in her eyes. Were they fucking with her? Or did they truly believe squirrel-duck hybrids existed? "As far as I know, we don't have a you break it, you buy it sign around here." All it would take to fix was a little superglue, and if they were honest, they didn't really care how much cash padded Stan's pockets. "Do you actually want the fake... squuck?"

dewey is visibly delighted that someone responded, and they're beginning to explain what category the game was currently when they notice the uncomfortable way the other is attempting to write "oh, hey, hand buddies. what happened?" a pleasant smile, an easy shift from the almost manic energy they'd had moments before. yet still, they don't wait for the other to answer, already onto the next thing and offering out their hand that wasn't actively bleeding "y'want me to fill that out for you? i won't steal your identity— and i'm ambidextrous."

The hospital wasn't exactly a foreign place for Ralph ; for someone who had a habit of breaking nearly everything he touched, it wasn't unusual for him to get scratched up in the process. He was stubborn, preferring to take care of it himself when he did get injured, but he could not seem to fish the glass out of the palm of his hand today. Eyes lifting from the paperwork he was filling out, he nodded at the other's comment. "Oh. Nice, yeah, good to know." He tried not to let annoyance seep into his tone, frustrated by how much he was struggling to write with his non-dominate hand. "— I don't know what the question was, though."

📍mcduck residence , duck pod set 𖨆 terence hansen @lcngstcryshcrt

they'd gotten sidetracked a while back, notes completely forgotten on the floor as they rambled on. when they're finally able to focus again, it's on the part of their set that had been painted red, despite them sitting firmly in the blue section of the room "what if we did, like, a dating advice segment? since, you know... valentine's day is coming up?" they step back, frowning as they try to imagine just the three of them doing such a thing before deciding they definitely need more help— ducks weren't particularly known for being romantic "how good are you at relationship advice?"

"oh, come on. i can't help it that i'm a polymath." they'd heard that word once a few months back, and wouldn't let go of it. as if painting himself as some suffering (from his mansion) academic (avid wheel of fortune fan) would make his obnoxiousness more tolerable "no way it's been only five minutes. i feel like i'm gonna bleed out before we get back there."

dewey's voice landed on toulouse's ear drums like a cloth covered mallet striking a gong , leading him to deepen his slouch as he sank further into the waiting room chair beside him . " mon dieu , " it's grumbled beneath his breath , lifting an arm from where it sat crossed over his chest to pinch the wrinkled skin between furrowed brows .

" five minutes , dewey . we have been waiting for FIVE minutes . five . this has to be a new record for you . "