ugh donnie


aight friends, i’m sure y’all remember @greymichaela​’s post, right? time to have a go at it, then

So if (and when) there is an Kenobi movie….

How many years before the events of Rogue One/A New Hope would they place it?

I mean, is there a possibility that we would see some familiar faces?? Maybe Cassian Andor?! Or even Bodhi Rook! Maybe Chirrut and Baze take a trip to Tatooine? A young Jyn with Saw Gerrera?

I would pay many doubloons to see Diego Luna and Ewan McGregor have a scene together. I would loose my marbles to see Donnie Yen and Ewan McGregor spar while Jiang Wen watches but then has to leave to defend a village from a Krayt Dragon……

Oh wow! The possibilities…..

LATER, CHIRRUT SLEEPS next to me. […] He stirs and the air stirs with him, bearing the musk-sweet smell of his body. I think: This is what I will miss. I think: I will kill myself rather than miss it. I think: How long do we have? (insp.)

Karma - Donatello x Reader

This idea was given to me by @tmntxreader-fics , they own the rights to these stories, and I’m so grateful to have been given the chance to write a sequel to her Raph x Reader fic!

Idea: A mashup of the 2k12 and 2k14 TMNT. The turtles have an unusually extreme growth stint during the period Y/N happens to be away.

“I think I’m gaining on you.”

“Definitely not.”

“I am! See?”

“Will you — ugh.” Donnie swatted my hand away from atop his head as I tried to compare our heights. “I’m trying to work.”

“Work shmork,” I brushed off, hoisting myself atop the desk and successfully shifting his notebook of hypotheses away from his work. “You’re just mad because you know I’ll be taller than you soon.”

“I’m not mad, I’m in the zone.” Donatello frowned, reaching toward his notes in vain. “I was in the zone, that is.”

“You really want to spend our parting minutes thinking about rates of osmosis?”

My sobering remark made him pause. He sat back in his chair, regarding me with a look of restrained sadness. “No.” He smirked, a mischievous smile I rarely caught from the genius. “You really want to spend them bragging about your height?”

“Gotta give you something to remember me by.” I kicked my legs back and forth, my bare feet brushing his knee as I did. “Today, we are in competition for the title of Vertical Challenge Winner. Eight months from now, the champion will be undebatable.”

I jabbed a thumb at my chest, throwing Donnie a sly wink and eliciting a chuckle from the terrapin.

“So, you want my memories of you to be associated with your petty height contest?”

“That’s about the most memorable thing about me, my friend.”

“Not in the least bit,” he contradicted, leaning forward and furrowing his brow in genuine concern I didn’t understand my significance in his and his brothers’ lives (which, to be honest, I still don’t understand).

“The only thoughts you’ll have of me in the next month will be of my annoying rambling and occasional taunts,” I promised him, smiling bittersweetly.

“Not true.” He leaned forward to tap my temple. “I’ll remember your bright mind.” His hand brushed my slightly raw knuckles. “And your persistence in training.” He rubbed at my right knee, the one I’d injured the night I met him in the middle of a tryst with the Foot. “And your clumsiness that is anything but unattractive.”

I blushed at that, as did he, suddenly recognizing how affectionate that last remark must have sounded. Hasty to cover it up, he grabbed hold of my foot, fingers dancing across the spot below my toes. “And I definitely won’t forget all your ticklish spots.”

“Cut that out!” I protested between giggles, writhing away from him and, in the process, tumbling off the desk in an ungraceful pile of limbs.

Donnie shot to his feet, helping me out of my stupor and onto my feet.

“You alright?” he did a once-over of me, making a hurried transition into Doctor Mode.

“Fine.” I smiled through the acute throbbing in my tailbone. “It’s these lengthy legs of mine. Who knew being the tallest would be both a blessing and a curse?”

My joke helped him revert from his analytical observations. “You’ll never let me live it down, will you? You’ll come back, and all you’ll talk about will be how I have to crane my neck to look up at you.” He rolled his eyes a bit. “A hyperbolic statement, on your part.”

“Hey, passing up the tallest turtle in the lair is a big accomplishment. I expect you to not rain on my parade when I succeed in overtaking you.” I grinned cheekily, slipping away to slide into my sandals.

Donnie’s airy laugh was cut short by his melancholy. “I just don’t see why you have to be gone for so long.”

“Eight months will go by in no time,” I assured unsteadily, willing tears not to pool in my eyes. “Besides, the longer I’m in Bolivia, the better. They need my volunteering down there.”

He stepped to me, laying a hand on my shoulder and turning me to face him. “Be safe, alright? Your clumsiness may cute- er, pleasant- but it’ll make you more of a target.”

“I know, Donatello.”

“Come back soon.” His hand dropped back to his side. “I don’t want to be without my lab assistant for too long.”

“That’s what I’ll remember you by,” I decided, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. “Your uncanny intelligence - and your desperate need for my help and technological expertise.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right where you left me.” Donatello smiled, his diastema peeking from between his lips at me. “Things won’t have changed much around here.”

I strode closer, throwing my arms around the genius in an embrace. “Are you saying you’ll be the constant to my dependent variable?”

Another small chuckle. “Always, Y/N.”

I pulled back to look at him, to memorize his features for future reference. Laying a hand on his cheek gently, I whispered, “Thank God for my constant, then.”

And then I swiveled, bustling out, not bearing to say goodbye.

Goodbye meant tears.

And tears weren’t an option.

~8 months later~

The subtle glow of the christmas lights skirting the perimeter of the living room.

The sounds of pissed-off taxi drivers and dirty-mouthed pedestrians pouring through the grate overhead.

The taste of three-day-old pizza, on the brink of expiration.

The feel of cool night air on my skin, seeping in from the city streets above.

The smell of the sewer.

Yep, this is what home felt like.

I reclined on the couch, my luggage tossed haphazardly on the floor, my bare feet finally free from their sweaty socks and hiking boots.

The note at the entrance of the lair had clued me in to the fact that everyone was out on patrol. The place was abandoned, but I was too relieved to be home to consider how lonely I still felt.

I’d taken the liberty of using the shower, washing the Bolivian grime from my skin and applying my first layer of makeup in eight months. It felt nice to pretty myself up, to give in to silly American aesthetic standards. Though, when it came to wardrobe, my care for attractiveness ended. I was now dressed in comfy yoga pants and the Yankees sweatshirt I kept stored under Donnie’s bed.


I slowed the pace of my chews, my pizza slice hovering an inch from my lips. The notion that I’d be able to see him again drowned me with euphoria. Screw height challenges, I just hoped my slight increase in tallness didn’t make our reuniting hug all that awkward.

A commotion in the laboratory made me jump, and I brightened when the door swung ajar slightly. Of course! How could I have been so stupid not to check the lab?

I sprang from my spot, abandoning my pizza and sprinting to Donatello’s haven, hoping that he hadn’t kicked the habit of refusing missions to tinker and ponder. At least the absence of his brothers meant I could recollect myself without taunting once I broke down at the sight of my friend.

The lab was dark, apart from a single computer screen, lit and opened to a Chrome window on clearing Adobe scratch disks. Good, he was here. He was hiding.

I felt a telltale tingle run down my spine, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, alerting me to another’s presence.

“You didn’t say goodbye.”

I whirled to face the source of the voice, still shrouded in shadows. My friend seemed to be obscured by an enormous pile of tech.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, stepping forward, “I couldn’t stand the idea of falling apart in front of you.”

“I just would’ve liked to see your face.” His face was deeper, though the nerdy lilt wasn’t lost in the deep tones. “You left so quick I barely got a look at you.”

“Well, I’m here now,” I murmured ashamedly, “Come out. Let me hug you.”

I was expecting a smaller figure to step out. Instead, the entire supposed mountain of supplies moved, rose, and with a start, I realized that pile wasn’t a pile at all. I stepped back in shock, causing the figure to screech to a halt.

“About my being the constant to your dependent variable,” he started unsteadily, his voice wavering.

“Yeah?” I croaked, bracing myself against the desk.

“Your constant may have been altered just a bit.”

With that, he stepped into a light. I tilted my head back to gaze up at his face, more defined and towering above me now. He donned a new pair of glasses, taped and placed on the bridge of his beak. His shoulders had broadened, and his shell had increased in diameter. He must’ve been working out, judging from his swollen biceps and rock-hard abs only barely hidden behind his plastron, riddled with a few more scratches and ruts. Tech on his carapace was held in place by suspenders, strapped to a new pair of cargo shorts.

And his size. God, his size. He must be a good seven feet tall by now.

Donnie fiddled with the gadget strapped to his wrist, unwilling to meet my gaze. “Things have changed considerably, since you left.”

I step forward slowly, reaching up to graze his cheek with my fingers, offering a small smile when he started and glanced up. “I don’t think so. Look!” I tapped at the various pieces of machinery, gesturing to his head. “Still as brilliant as the day I left.”

“And you,” he chuckled shyly, reaching forward to stroke my arm, realizing the physical contact was a bit too personal for his liking and jerking away. “You look great.”

I grinned, leaning close and hugging him, rejoicing when his heart did a familiar flip flop at my touch. “About that Vertical Challenge?”

“Yeah,” he managed, wrapping his arms gingerly about me. In that moment, I felt more vulnerable and protected than ever.

“You definitely won.”

anonymous asked:

me, 5 seconds through another Donnie Yen movie: Where is Donnie Yen already? How long do I have to wait?

Listen, fam. I sat through the entirety of the horror that is Shanghai Knights (which was otherwise only saved by Jackie Chan’s adorable face) for an approximate six minutes of Donnie screentime.

And it was worth it because he looked like this:

I’m fine. We’re all fine. Definitely not in too deep.