my turtle is mean



Please do not tag as R//ei/Mo/b 

….Next Christmas is now less than two months away… …I am so sorry

I originally had a different description in my draft post that was like weh life got in the way but still… 10 months is taking the mickey;; Doesn’t help that the drawings are old and were coloured at different points of the year so it’s… it’s yeah.

I think your original prompt was mp100 relationships/dynamics with the option of a opm crossover so I ended up doing a few things… There’s no real coherent timeline with these, just wanted to draw more than one thing…

twitter post

Visions (Pietro Maximoff X Reader)

Fandom: The Avengers: Age of Ultron
Pairing: Pietro Maximoff X Reader
Word Count: 3,507
Translations: First Russian word means “my turtle”, the second one means “soul mate”.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” You said softly, holding your hands out placatingly.

“That’s vhat they all say.” Pietro said bitterly. He was tense, and clearly prepared to run. The only reason he hadn’t run already was because he had absolutely no idea what you special ability was, and he was only slightly worried that it was something extremely dangerous.

“Please, trust me.”

“Vhy on Earth vould I do that?”

“Because I know how you feel.”

“Really? Stark killed your parents too?” He raised an eyebrow doubtfully.

“Actually, yes. It was an accident, but…” You trailed off.

The look on Pietro’s face was priceless.


You shrugged. “I was ten, and both my parents were in the army. They were stationed overseas in separate units, but at the same base. Tony sent over some missiles, and they, uh, they got intercepted. The people that stole them activated them and then launched them at the army base. None of the soldiers got out. It wasn’t really Tony’s fault, I don’t blame him, at least, but a lot of other people did. Tony feels guilty about it ‘til this very day. So yeah, I do kind of know what it feels like to lose your parents because of something Tony did, even if he had good intentions.”

Pietro frowned. “I am sorry.”

“Will you trust me? Just for a second?”

Pietro looked you up and down before nodding reluctantly. “Otay.”

You stepped closer to him and leaned in, connecting your forehead with his and pressing your fingertips to his temples.

You felt Pietro tense up. “Relax.” You murmured gently. He, surprisingly, did as you asked and relaxed ever so slightly.

You concentrated on Pietro’s mind, and you were suddenly assaulted with a multitude of feelings. Anger, despair, loyalty, and, quite oddly, hope.

You were just about to speak when you were suddenly hit with a wave of emotional pain. You stumbled away from Pietro and caught a glimpse of brown hair and a red, flickering light, before you were suddenly back in your aunt’s house the day you found out your parents died.

Pietro blinked in surprise as the warmth from your body was suddenly gone, looking up to see his sister staring at him anxiously.

“Did she hurt you? Vhat vas she doing to you?” Wanda asked, eyes scanning his body worriedly for any wounds.

“I’m fine.” He said distractedly, his own eyes flicking down to your body. His eyebrows knitted together in concern at the whimpering sounds coming from your mouth, and he frowned even harder when he saw the tears spilling down your cheeks. Before he could do something stupid, like ask Wanda to stop hurting you because really you had done nothing wrong, he scooped Wanda into his arms and sped away from the building.


“Oh god.” You groaned, pressing a hand to your head as if that would stop the pain. You felt like you had the world’s worst hangover. Taking a glance at the other Avengers, you figured that Natasha, Thor, and Steve had also been whammied by Wanda’s magic, because they all looked about as good as you felt.

“Well,” Tony said, looking around the ship. “That went a hell of a lot worse than expected.”

Natasha managed a weak smirk. “Careful Tony, Steve doesn’t like that kind of language.”

Steve grumbled something unintelligible, but it sounded suspiciously like curses.

“Language!” All of the team said in unison.

Steve buried his face in his hands. Why did his team have to be such a big group of punks?


The whole time the Avengers were staying with Clint’s family, your thoughts were on Pietro.

For some reason, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get your mind off of him. You had only met the guy once, and you knew he probably hated your guts, but you had seen something in him. Something good.

He didn’t want to be the bad guy, he just wanted revenge for what he felt had been a wrongdoing. And honestly, you couldn’t blame him. He had no way of knowing (before now) that Tony had never meant to kill his parents, so it was understandable that he would blame the guy whose name was literally on the thing that ripped his parents away from him.

Every time you saw Clint wrap his arms around Laura’s waist from behind, or you saw the shy smiles that Natasha and Bruce exchanged (since when had that been a thing, by the way?), you thought of Pietro.

You still didn’t understand why, you knew pretty much nothing about him, but something in your heart was telling you that he was special.

Or maybe it was the fact that reading people was something you rarely did, and never in that way. You usually only did it when The Avengers desperately needed information, and there was no other way to get it. But what you had done…it was more instinctual than anything. You wanted to calm him down, so the feelings you had sent through the bond were calm, soothing ones.

The feelings you had felt through the bond were raw and unbridled, deep and powerful emotions that Pietro had been completely unable to tone down or hide. You were inside his head, and you knew just how strongly he felt things, how strongly he felt hope.

He had hope that his life would get better, he had hope that he could make a difference in the world, he had hope that, maybe, one day he could even get a significant other. He cared about his sister and he loved her, of course, but he wanted someone he could love in a romantic way.

God. You were so screwed. You knew none of the basic, simple stuff about him, but yet, the moment you laid eyes on him (which, mind you, had been when he was smacking most of your friends and teammates around), it felt like you were really, truly alive for the first time. So, so screwed.


“Hey punk, you doin’ alright?” Steve approached you with a concerned smile on his lips, and you lifted your eyes up from the flower you had been staring at for the past five minutes.

When you shrugged instead of speaking, Steve knew something was wrong.

He sat down beside you on the lawn. “Okay, __y/n__, what’s on your mind?”

You looked up at him forlornly. “You, uh, you remember Pietro, right?”

“How could I forget?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow at you curiously.

“Well, you know how I can, uh, read people’s feelings and their minds and stuff?” Steve nodded. “I kind of read Pietro’s, and now I kind of think I have a crush on him?”

Steve’s eyes widened before he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Oh, dear. Do I need to give you “the talk”?”

You chuckled, despite your crummy mood. “No, Steve, you do not need to give me “the talk”. Believe it or not, I know how sex works.”

Steve pretended to wipe a bead of sweat off his forehead. “That is a relief, because I had no idea where that conversation was going.” Steve then looked at you, smiling kindly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shrugged before letting out a sigh and burying your face in your hands. “Why does he have to be so cute?”

Steve rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. “Let it out, kiddo, let it out.”


You must’ve done something to him. That was the only explanation Pietro could think of as to why your face kept popping into his mind. If you hadn’t cast a spell on him, why else would the thought of you make him feel calm and peaceful?

On second thought, why would you have cast a spell on him to make him feel tranquil whenever he thought of you? That didn’t make any sense, but neither did him thinking about you as often as he had been.

He kept thinking about how much he it had hurt him to see you cry. Why on Earth had it hurt him so much? He didn’t know you, he wasn’t friends with you, and he most certainly didn’t care for you. So what was it about seeing you look so small and broken that made him want to protect you?

Pietro frowned to himself and shook his head, trying to rid his mind of those foolish thoughts. You were an Avenger, and right now, The Avengers were his enemy (so why did even the thought of hurting you make him feel sick to his stomach?).


Pietro and Wanda had officially switched sides, after realizing that Ultron was a complete nutcase who wanted to destroy the world.

You, The Avengers, and the two of them were now on your way to Sokovia to stop Ultron’s plan to destroy the world. Fun times.

You were clipping a gun to your belt when someone suddenly scooped you into their arms and zipped you down a hallway, carefully setting you down before pinning you to the wall.

You raised an eyebrow at Pietro. “You know, if you wanted me pressed against the wall, you could’ve just asked.”

You and Pietro were kind of friends now, and he usually laughed at your jokes or made one in return, but this time, he just stared at you, his eyes dark and unblinking.

“Pietro? You okay, buddy?”

He shook his head, letting out a sigh before leaning forward and resting his forehead against yours. “Vhat have you done to me?”

You frowned, knitting your eyebrows together in confusion. “I don’t think I’ve done anything to you?”

His eyes flicked open and he grabbed your one of your hands, pressing your fingertips to his chest. You could feel his heart hammering rapidly against his ribs. “I spend a lot of time running, but my heart has never beaten this quickly. Ever.”

You couldn’t help it. You kissed him. Leaning in and gently touching your lips to his was pure instinct (you had been trying to refrain from showing him that you liked him because you still knew barely anything about him and didn’t want to scare him away), but god, his lips felt wonderful.

Pietro made a sound of agreement in his throat before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. You wriggled your arms out from in between your bodies and snaked them around his neck, running your fingers through his silvery hair.

You heard a cough and hurriedly broke the kiss, but neither of you made any move to get out of the other’s arms.

“Really?” Clint asked, arching an eyebrow at the two of you.

Pietro smirked, his arms tightening around your waist. “You didn’t see that coming?”

You and Clint let out simultaneous groans.

“You can’t just reuse lines like that!” Clint huffed indignantly.

Pietro shrugged distractedly, nuzzling his nose into the hollow between your neck and your shoulder instead of responding.

Clint rolled his eyes and started to walk away, not wanting to witness the lead up to you and Pietro procreating. He turned around once, shouted “Use protection!”, and was gone, leaving Pietro with a smirk and you with a bright, ruby red blush.


You startled awake, blinking rapidly and breathing harshly as your mind was filled with a horrifying vision. Which didn’t even make sense, you had never had a vision before and your first thought was that Wanda was doing something to your mind, but this was different. It hadn’t felt like the last time she had whammied you, it felt like you were seeing something that was actually going to happen.

You saw Clint, who was holding a child, looking up at the sky fearfully, before turning away from your line of sight, protecting the child from something. Before you could register that anything had happened, there was the sound of gunfire, and you looked up, surprised to see a car in front of Clint and the child.

Pietro had taken the brunt of the bullets, while the car had only received a few hits.

“You didn’t see that coming?” Pietro joked weakly to a confused Clint, before he collapsed to the ground, a limp pile of bullet riddled flesh.

Wanda’s scream of despair tore through the air, and you felt as if someone had torn your own heart out and crushed it into dust.

You blinked and you were suddenly back in your bed, with Pietro sleeping soundly next to you (no, you hadn’t done anything, but you had asked him if he would be okay sharing the bed with you, and he had happily agreed).

You wanted to let him sleep, you did, but you needed to talk to someone about your vision, and he was the closest person.

“Pietro,” You murmured quietly, shaking his shoulder gently. When he barely stirred, you tried something else. “Sonic! Wake up!”

Pietro groaned as he slipped back into consciousness. “Vho is this ‘Sonic’ you speak of?”

“I’ll explain it to you later, right now, I need to talk to you about something.”

Pietro could tell by the tone in your voice and how glossy your eyes were that it was something serious.

“Vhat is vrong, мой черепаха?” Pietro asked, grabbing one of your hands and rubbing the back of your hand soothingly.

“I had a vision, which I have never, ever had before, but I just…I know that it was showing me something that’s going to happen.” You were shaking almost violently, and Pietro frowned, drawing you into his arms and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“And vhat is going to happen? It can’t be that bad, can i-“

“You die.” You said suddenly, cutting him off before he could finish. “You, uh, you sacrifice yourself to save Clint and a little boy and I-“ You broke down crying then, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his shoulder. “I don’t want you to die.”

“Vell, uh, there must be some vay ve can avoid this, yes?” Pietro said, trying to comfort you (however, comforting girls was not really a strong suit of his). “Don’t vorry. Everything vill be fine.”

You both hoped to god that he was right.


So far, the battle against Ultron was not going well. Even with the Maximoff twins and Vision, you were still terribly outnumbered. Ultron had thousands upon thousands of robots at his disposal, and you had nine humans and an android. Definitely not a fair fight.

And then reinforcements finally showed up.

They certainly helped, you could finally start evacuating the city, but there were still just too many people to save, too many robots to destroy, and too little time to get everything done.

You were doing all you could, chucking cars at robots with your mind and even exploding some of them from the inside out, when you started to get a terrible sense of déjà vu. You looked to your right, fear making your blood run cold as you saw Clint running to save a little boy.

The same little boy from your vision.

You waved your hand and a car shot across the street, landing directly in front of Clint and the child, protecting them from the barrage of bullets that one of Ultron’s robots had sent forth.

You didn’t see Pietro around, which you took as a good sign, and you were going to go make sure that Clint and the child were okay when the robot’s guns turned towards you.

You huffed in annoyance, squeezing your hand into a fist and grinning in satisfaction when the robot was crushed into millions of tiny pieces.

You ran towards Clint and the child, assuring that they were okay before taking the child from Clint. You brought him over to one of the rescue ships and passed him to who you thought was his mother, if the way she was crying was any indication.

You were heading back into the throng of the battle, but you were interrupted by Pietro picking you up, speeding you out of the immediate danger area, pressing you into a wall, and slamming his lips onto yours.

You kissed him back eagerly, savoring the taste of his lips, mostly salty from his sweat, but there was something else there, something purely Pietro that tasted delicious, before nipping on his lower lip playfully and breaking the kiss.

“What was that for?” You asked, running a finger gently along a cut on his chin, and healing it with your mind.

“I’m not dead, you’re not dead, seemed like a good time as any.” Pietro murmured, pressing a kiss to your finger. “You didn’t need to do that,” He argued. “It vould’ve healed. You need to save your strength, don’t go vasting it on me.”

You shook your head. “Not a waste. Can’t let you go around destroying that pretty face of yours, can I?”

Tony’s voice crackled over your ear piece. “If you guys could save the mushy gushy stuff until after we save the world, that’d be great.”

You grinned at Pietro sheepishly. “Guess that’s our cue.” You leaned in then and kissed him once more, a slow, lingering slide of your lips against his that left your mind feeling a little fuzzy. “Don’t die, alright?”

“I von’t. Try to stay alive yourself, da?”

You nodded, and then Pietro had zoomed off and you were throwing yourself back into the battle.

It was going to be a long day.


When the battle was finally over, you and the team practically collapsed into Fury’s helicarrier. The rest of the team had accepted that Pietro and Wanda were now members of the team, so they came too.

Ultron was destroyed, the world was safe, and Pietro wasn’t dead, so in your opinion, life was surprisingly good right now.


Over the next six or so months, you learned more about your visions. They happened more frequently, and for some weird reason, they were always about Pietro.

They would show you unimportant little things, just what Pietro was doing when you were away on missions, or sometimes they would warn you about things that were going to hurt Pietro on missions, so you could always make sure to go with him on those missions or at the very least, warn him about the dangers.

Tony, being the nice, generous guy that he is, bought you and Pietro a house (slightly in the country, because Pietro wanted a place to run), and he bought Wanda one as well, in the same neighborhood. It was literally only 0.005 seconds away for Pietro, and five minutes away if you walked.

You were sleeping with Pietro’s arms wrapped tightly around you, when you suddenly jolted awake. Your eyes drifted out of focus as you were pulled into a vision.

Pietro’s hand was gripping yours tightly, a lot more tightly than he ever did. It concerned you, but Pietro was leading you into your dining room, so you didn’t think that anything was actually wrong. The table was decorated with candles, flowers, champagne, and all your favorite foods.

You turned to look at him. “Pietro? What is all this?”

He shrugged shyly (you had never seen Pietro be shy before in your life, so now you were definitely worried). “I just vanted to do something special for the voman I love.”

You smiled, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s beautiful.” You turned to him, leaning up and pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Pietro then led you to a chair and pulled it out for you, gesturing for you to sit down. You did as he asked and he then pushed your chair, before taking his own seat.

The vision skipped a bit, skimming over the meal like a movie on fast forward.

The vision slowed back down, and you saw Pietro slowly (you didn’t even know that was possible for him) moving toward you, before he got down on one knee in front of your chair. The vision cut out right after Pietro pulled a small, grey box out of his pocket.

You blinked as you slipped back into the present, smiling down at Pietro’s sleeping form fondly.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead and were pleasantly surprised by the happy noise he made in his throat, before settling back into Pietro’s strong arms.

That was one vision you could keep to yourself. You knew that sooner or later (assuming nothing bad happened to either of you), the vision would come true.

Pietro was your родственная душа, just like you were his, and when the day came that he decided he wanted to marry you, you would say yes. There was not a single doubt in your mind about that.

This was one thing that both you and Pietro didn’t want to rush. For once, you knew Pietro was willing to take it slow. 

End.  <3

Can I just take a moment and say one of my fave things about Turtle Soup is how PERFECTLY it’s scored

I mean Bear outdid himself on that one, it just has this perfect build, with a playful undertone throughout. And when it finally fully - and even more playfully - kicks in as she bolts that dang door, it never fails to get me grinning even harder than I already was every single time lol

Perfect Score is absolutely PERFECT!

Originally posted by gif-007

It’s 1940’s New York City. She’s a lounge singer with a voice that draws in even the coldest of men, and he’s a detective with a reputation for eyes as sharp as a hawk’s. Brought to the lounge to investigate a case, he can’t help notice the doll-face with the voice like an angel and legs for days, but he can’t be distracted. Especially not when he gets the feeling she knows more than she’s letting on. Despite his attempts to keep her at arm’s length, she worms her way in, and he slowly discovers that the dame is far cleverer than she looks. Soon he no longer has a suspect but a partner, with eyes just about as keen as his own (though he’s still far from oblivious to those gorgeous gams).  [Soundtrack]

breaking bad; starter sentences.

  • ❛ Did you know that there’s an acceptable level of rat turds that can go into candy bars? ❜
  • ❛ Three entire bags of Funyuns? ❜
  • ❛ Congratulations, you’ve just left your family a second-hand Subaru. ❜
  • ❛ We have discussed everything we need to discuss…I thought I made myself clear. ❜
  • ❛ Keys, scumbag. It’s the universal symbol for keys. ❜
  • ❛ Chick’s got an ass like an onion…makes me want to cry. ❜
  • ❛ I am not in danger, _____. I am the danger. ❜
  • ❛ Since when do vegans eat fried chicken? ❜
  • ❛ Shut the fuck up. Let me die in peace. ❜
  • ❛ Sitting around, smoking marijuana, eating Cheetos and masturbating do not constitute ‘plans.’ ❜
  • ❛ Yo, I thought I was gonna see some, like, vaginas. ❜
  • ❛ You are not the guy. You’re not capable of being the guy. I had a guy, but now I don’t. You are not the guy. ❜
  • ❛ Everyone sounds like Meryl Streep with a gun to their head. ❜
  • ❛ Fuck you, and your eyebrows! ❜
  • ❛ That’s what the kids call ‘epic fail.’ ❜
  • ❛ Yeah, bitch! Magnets! ❜
  • ❛ The moral of the story is: I chose a half measure, when I should have gone all the way. I’ll never make that mistake again. ❜
  • ❛ They’re minerals, _____! Jesus! ❜
  • ❛ What’s the point of being an outlaw when you got responsibilities? ❜
  • ❛ Stay out of my territory. ❜
  • ❛ If you’d known your place, we’d all be fine right now! ❜
  • ❛ We’re done when I say we’re done. ❜
  • ❛ Yo, Gatorade me, bitch. ❜
  • ❛ Yeah, science! ❜
  • ❛ I’m a blowfish! ❜
  • ❛ This is my own private domicile and I will not be harassed…bitch! ❜
  • ❛ Got some big cow house way out that way, like two miles, but I don’t see nobody. ❜
  • ❛ Bitch! ❜
  • ❛ I did it for me. I liked it. I was good at it. And… I was really… I was alive. ❜
  • ❛ After we finish cleaning up this mess, we will go our separate ways. Our paths will never cross and we will tell this to no one. Understood? ❜
  • ❛ I haven’t been myself lately, but I love you. Nothing about that has changed, nothing ever will. ❜
  • ❛ How am I supposed to live here now, huh? My whole house smells like toe cheese and dry cleaning. ❜
  • ❛ Yo. ❜
  • ❛ Wanna cook? ❜
  • ❛ Chemotherapy and marijuana go together like apple pie and Chevrolet. ❜
  • ❛ Chili powder. Did I not already tell you how moronic that was? ❜
  • ❛ Tortuga means turtle, and that’s me. I take my time but I always win. ❜
  • ❛ Tread lightly. ❜
  • ❛ Why should we do anything more than once? Should I just smoke this one cigarette? ❜
  • ❛ Say my name. ❜
  • ❛ Being the best at something is a very rare thing. You don’t just toss something lile that away. ❜
  • ❛ Yeah, you do have a little shit creek action happening. ❜
  • ❛ If we had enough money, nobody could make us do anything. ❜
  • ❛ I’ve seen better acting in an epileptic whore house. ❜
  • ❛ MILFs, what the hell is a MILF? ❜
  • ❛ Does the Pope shit in his hat? ❜
  • ❛ He was naked, naked in a supermarket? It wasn’t Whole Foods, was it? ❜
  • ❛ Paying my debt with illicit gambling winnings, I don’t know. It feels wrong. ❜
  • ❛ This kicks like a mule with its balls wrapped in duct tape! ❜
  • ❛ These shoes make me look like I should be changing bedpans, like I should be squeaking around bringing soup to some disgusting old person—then take the bus home to my 16 cats. ❜
  • ❛ I loved school when I was your age. Seesaws, story time, chasing girls with sticks. ❜

On my way to the airport yesterday, I was picked up by a cabbie named Chuck.

Chuck served in the Navy for 22 years. He worked, lived, and partied across the Pacific Islands until deciding to collect his retirement. When he saw my poster tube, we naturally got on the subject of why I was in Vegas, how I studied sea turtles and was presenting my research here, etc.

He thinks turtles in general are the coolest (“I mean, nothing else ‘cept maybe the armadillo has a shell! Think about that! That’s why they’ve been around so long!”), and one of the first things he said was, “I wish they’d start doing better and we’d bring ‘em back from the brink of extinction because man, they are such good eating

I didn’t bat an eye. I’ve heard this before; I also know that some very successful conservation efforts are borne out of a regular person’s desire to eat a species sustainably; that locals get involved with conservation efforts for this very reason. We chatted about this and I got to tell him about turtle excluder devices (TEDs) used in the shrimp trawling industry. We agreed how we would both much rather pay taxes that go to funding TEDs on every trawl boat in the Gulf than to our corrupt governor or legislator’s next mansion. That it’s hard for a seasonal fisherman to fund a $700 TED on a boat, or that scientists and government officials don’t get that he and his daddy and his granddaddy have been doing this their whole lives, and have a bad taste in their mouth from people telling them what to do and telling them that they know better.

Chuck may be “just” a cab driver, he may be a retiree, but he reads Science magazine. He may want TEDs so that he can sustainably eat shrimp, whereas I want them to save sea turtles and couldn’t care less about eating shrimp anymore. He’s plugged in, and he isn’t stupid; his background is just slightly different than mine, and we want the same things.

We naturally got onto the topic of climate change. Chuck acknowledges that something is going on, that the Earth’s climate is heating and changing. He’s not sure whether it’s entirely anthropogenic, and a 15 minute cab ride to the airport was neither the time nor the place for me to throw facts at him.

Instead, I focused on the fact that Chuck, regardless of the cause of climate change, wants to see humans try to make it better. He said, “We have got to do something or this (gesturing to the surrounding sprawl of civilization on either side of the highway) will all fall apart.”
So that’s what I said to him. I said, “Chuck you know, that’s it exactly. The science is pretty sound, our models are getting better and better every day, but at the end of the day, shouldn’t it just be enough that you want to make the earth a better place for everyone? That the sooner that we get past this rhetorical pitfall of ‘who dun it’, we can start to make actual, appreciable changes?”

Chuck must have been about 82 years old. I’m nearly 25. He’s been around, seen a lot. And he remarked to me at the end of the cab ride how much he enjoyed talking to me, how it made his day, and how this was a new, great way of thinking about climate change and activism. That we have nothing to lose by switching to sustainable resources, eating less meat, telling our politicians to get their acts together and make good on their climate summit promises.

I reflect on this on Earth Day, and because March for Science isn’t far from my mind today. I’m reflecting on how the newly published video narrated by Neil deGrasse Tyson revs me up in certain ways, but how problematic I find some of its rhetoric, and some of the rhetoric on the March for Science official facebook page.

For whom is this video made? I’ll tell you, from the time I spent with him, Chuck wouldn’t have been compelled by this video. He’d have been indifferent at best, and angry at the worst. This video isn’t made for him. But isn’t it important that he, and people like him, be reached, encouraged to make a difference, feel like they’re not considered ‘less than’ just because they’re not scientists?

What did work was having a conversation with him. Being kind, talking about things person to person– no lecturing, no fact regurgitation. I think that my conversation with Chuck will have more of a lasting impact on him than seeing that video ever would. And talking with Chuck has had an impact on me too. It reminds me that I’m a citizen of the Earth just like him. And that outsider perspective is absolutely key to my work and how I relate to the science I do. What does it all even matter if it’s not positively impacting people like Chuck? What does it even matter if I can’t sympathize with the shrimp boat drivers that have to rely on a transient resource to put dinner on the table for themselves and their families?

It occurs to me that this conversation could have gone much more differently for Chuck if it had been a different person in his cab. If it had been a different sea turtle conference attendee, or a different scientist. That someone could have jumped down his throat for his ‘good eating’ comment, or his thoughts on climate change. And he wouldn’t have walked away from that conversation telling the person how he was going to go out and buy a book on sea turtles now.

We march for science, but let us also march for the people who stand to benefit from it, whose lives are made better from its advances. Let us march for them even when we don’t see quite eye to eye on certain issues, for certainly the issue of saving our planet is more important. I think far more often than not, we can all agree that something needs to be done. I think we’ll find that people are more willing than we realize to join in and help. And we need them if we’re going to win this fight.

It’s 10:03 and I think I’m calling it a day. I just finished Turtles All the Way Down which means I completed my reading goals! I could still start Eleanor & Park since I have 2 hours left of this readathon but I feel so exhausted and don’t want to force myself into reading.

Here are the books I read during this day:

History Is All You Left Me (294 pages)
Sal (240 pages, I was on page 26 so 214 pages)
Turtles All the Way Down (286 pages)

So in total I read 794 pages across three books.

I’m so pleased with myself for accomplishing all my goals even though I slept for about 6 hours. Reviews of these books will be posted next week and I’m 100% sure I’ll be giving 24 hour readathons a go in the future as well!

anonymous asked:

Hey Donnie what is my favorite mutant ninja turtle doing? What did you mean when you told april"Donnie was to April as Bigfoot was to Donnie"? And what did you feel when she kissed you?

Let me begin by saying that Bigfoot was a very nice lady and I seriously have nothing against her. She was just not my type.

Now that I said that, Bigfoot followed me everywhere, forced herself in my presence, was overly clingy and just made me feel uncomfortable all around. She tried to force a relationship I didn’t want. 

Then I realized that I what I did to April.

I was an annoyance, forcing myself in her company and making her feel uncomfotable. Like her, I was trying to be nice and couldn’t bring myself to reject Bigfoot outright. Luckily she found someone else so I didn’t have to.

So that April didn’t have to make me feel bad by rejecting me, I pulled myself out of it, stating that I now understood how I was making her feel and that like Bigfoot I was nothing to her. 

Then she kissed me and I felt both elated and total confusion.

Still do.

I’m so sorry guys…I know you’re waiting yesterday for the next part of Underverse!Sans…but i never tought it could me take so long…I’ve been awoke for 27 hours finishing and editing this video in my…super duper faster laptop, my hands are shaking and I want to kick a pillow hahaha XD…

Now I’m exporting the video to test…while my lovely lap goes for a cup of tea and thing about how amazing is the life…I’m going to take a little nap… So, today I will publish the next part of Underverse!Sans…now on video…and stuff…
*Jakei.exe has crashed*

*attention by Charlie Puth comes on in the car*

mum: ugh I hate this song

me, offended: why?!?!!!

mum: the lyrics don’t make any sense, he literally goes in a minute ‘you’ve been running round like a turtle on my knee’

me: do you mean the part where he goes ‘dirt all on my name’

mum: ….oh