Guy After Having A Completely Normal Social Interaction: I Made Things Weird Again And They Hate Me

Donnieverse Part 4

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This would have been out ages ago but it's like 14 pages so it took forever!

also, someone hand me a broom. Seer wasn't supposed to take over the end like that. I need to shoo him away so Webs can get a chance to have his time lol.

ok promise i’ll keep the fandom alive

i want to coin a phrase that's the opposite of writer's block. call it the muse's fire hydrant. thirty thousand story ideas are being beamed directly into your brain and if you don't write them all at once you will die.

Having ur main emotional response be crying is so embarrassing like ill be trying to explain why im mad or ill try having a serious convo abt smthn that upsets me and ill start crying like a baby and i have to like turn around and go “i am not crying 4 pity or to emotionally manipulate u im crying cuz im a little bitch, give me a sec”

it’s them!

“Don’t worry, I’ve taken blood…”

Eileen stop lying to make us feel better. We know based on your NPC fight that you don’t have blood vials.

Do you ever think about Donnie and the Technodrome. Do you ever think about how in order to use it, he had to shed the very thing that had saved him from grievous injury or death time and again, to entrust his body at its most vulnerable to an invasive, completely alien construction. How the Krang’s machinery straddles the line between technological and organic, how Krang Three hardly needed to open his eyes to pilot the Technodrome and try to kill Donnie and Mikey, how deeply the connection between ship and pilot has to run for it to work at all. How the Technodrome reshaped itself to project Donnie’s face, while his body lay comatose in its inner chambers. How suddenly that connection was severed when Krang One discovered them. How Donnie might remember it. How he might still feel the cool, wet matter spreading up and around his soft shell, while his mind interlaces with technology that was not meant for his biology, remembering the sensation in his sleep. How he might miss it. How the whispers of the machine that might as well be alive come to him at night, lauding his abilities, his work with such primitive technology, haunting and yearning for a pilot back. Do you ever think about Donnie and the Technodrome.

scared