#it is legit easier to just ask for what you want in pieces and stitch it all together in like photoshop or gimp or something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

franks72morrow · 2 years

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replica birkin bag 24

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styledeficit · 2 years

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27 June - 2 July weeknotes

Monday 27 June

“Alto sax? You need to bark like a dog.” Alto sax looks alarmed.

Every week we try and play this piece. Are we getting any closer to nailing it? Who can tell. Only one person in the band has any idea what it should sound like and that’s the conductor. He loves it and he is not giving up. I really should look it up.

Oh! I’ve looked it up. Gosh. I think we need a choir?

Tuesday 28, Wednesday 29 June

Exhausted, for some reason. Early night and late mornings haven’t fixed it. Maybe a bug? Not a feature, anyway.

Thursday 30 June

I’m alone in the lift. “You look fucking awful”. Morning, me.

It’s quiet in the office. Part of me enjoys how weird this is. It’s almost like a college library: a place you go to work alone, but where you might bump into people you know.

I run writing training for a group of people who’ve just joined, and they’re engaged and chatty. Training people who are listening is a lot easier than training people who are not. They’re a nice bunch.

Some of them talk about customer service training they’ve done before. “It wasn’t like this. We were’t allowed to use normal words.” We do a writing exercise, and someone writes ‘we bill you to these’. I ask if he’s worked in energy before, and he says no. Later it turns out he’s worked for a water company. Had to be one or the other. No normal person talks about billing people to things. We chat about what it actually means and other ways he could say it.

I stay late in the office to have a goodbye drink with two people who are leaving. It’s sad. But the end of things often are—I guess that’s how you know there were definitely some good bits.

I leave the office and walk into unexpected rain. Everyone is clustering in doorways trying not to get wet. I need to cross the road to catch a bus - run or walk, you’ll still get wet in this, so I walk. Given my reputation, if I run I’ll only slip and end up under the bus anyway.

I once saw a man get hit by a bus across the road from Leicester Square station. He was ok, but he went right under the front of it. I think the onlookers were more shocked than he was. I once got hit by a car, actually. There was a man walking towards me at the time and I wonder if he’s ever got over it. The car hit me from the side, and I bounced up onto the bonnet, hit my head on the windscreen and slid to the floor. The man walking towards me was screaming. Luckily, I wasn’t hurt. Picked myself up, checked my laptop and didn’t know what to do next. The driver let me sit in his car for a bit, and asked if I wanted to go to hospital. In the end I just got the train to work. Made it as far as London Bridge, burst into tears and got on the next train home.

Anyway.

As I wait for the bus, the rain trickles through my hair and down my forehead. I feel it soak into my clothes. And suddenly I just feel really, really sad.

Friday 1 July

End of the week. Sunrise is at 4.47am – getting later every day. Quickish walk before work. The blackberries are coming.

Tidy yet more files on Google drive. Move things from my folder to the server. It’s all taking a lot longer than it should. Vow to be more organised in the future.

Saturday 2 July

Finally a legit lie in. Make bread, make biscuits. Sew up an elephants limbs and then stitch the elephant together. In the evening we watch C’mon C’mon. I didn’t realise it was by Mike Mills. It’s like watching an American poem, somehow.

I watched 20th Century Women a month or so ago when it was on the BBC. I loved it. Both films are hard to describe. I think you’ll either love them or hate them maybe? I’ll watch Beginners when I get a chance.

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ladegaard59campbell · 2 years

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

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The Hunter With The Dragon Tattoo

This is a request for anon, who asked:

i don’t know if your requests are open, but if they are, could you do one where the reader has tattoos that dean doesn’t know about and then he sees them when he has to stitch them up after a hunt? (maybe like season 1 or 2 dean) thank you!!!

And then wrote to me privately that they have a dragon tattoo on one shoulder.

It was a lot of fun to write; tons of opportunities to slip in some good classic rock references! I miss in the super early seasons when Sam and Dean seemed to rag on each other pretty much constantly. I hope this is what you were thinking of!

Title: The Hunter With The Dragon Tattoo

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 2589

Summary: Dean is surprised to discover the reader has tattoos.

Warnings: canon-appropriate violence/mention of blood, swearing, fluff!!

Sam moves to the middle of the front bench to shuck off his coat as Dean is getting out of the car, and gives it to you with a long arm over the leather. “Can you hand me that blue jacket?”

You have to over-rotate to use your other hand to grab it, keeping your grip tight on your own shirt in the most bastardized version of a sling. Sam, of course, notices.

“You think it’s broken or dislocated?”

A hard chuckle blows out of your nose. “Really hope it’s just dislocated, I’ll tell you that.”

He gives you a sympathetic smile as he throws on the blue jacket and zips it all the way up to his neck. It looks like he’s covering something up and naturally, he is, thin hoodie and t shirt underneath drenched with enough werewolf blood that it’s clinging to his chest almost pornographically. But his face is untouched and he has use of both his arms which is more than can be said for you or Werewolf Shiner Winchester, making him the only reasonable choice to send for gauze and ACE bandages at the closest pharmacy.

Dean stops his grimace-covered stretching just outside the car and opens your door with an outstretched hand as Sam slides into the driver’s seat. “You coming?”

Taking his hand with your good one, you let Dean close the door behind you without any of the normal grumbling about treating you like you’re made of porcelain, in an effort to keep your face neutral around the jolts of pain through your shoulder. Sam pulls out of the motel parking lot ultra-gently like it’s his first day with a learner’s permit the way he does when he knows Dean is watching. It makes you smile to yourself as exhaust dissipates across the cracked blacktop.

Crossing the asphalt with tired strides Dean opens the motel door for you too, and you walk in before him. “Is that yours?” he asks, dropping his coat on the cheap couch and wincing through the removal of his flannel. In the light of the room you’re better able to see his black eye and realize it’s going to take weeks for that to go away, not relishing another inevitable conversation about makeup to sell a G-man cover story. It makes it so much easier for the families of victims to believe you’re legit when none of you look like you’ve been in a bar fight, but getting Dean to believe cover-up is in the name of the greater good is an uphill battle on the best of days.

“Is what mine?”

“The blood you’re covered in like nacho cheese. Dude, if that’s all over the car—”

He deserves credit for trying not to smile as you try to look over your shoulder like a puppy chasing its tail, but he does guide you over to the mirror on the wall to see. He’s right, blood has seeped all down your coat, sticky and shiny like syrup. It’s far too wet to be from near 30 minutes ago when you got in the car. “Fuck, I really like this jacket.”

“You have like 5 just like it taking up space in my trunk; you’ll live. Here, take that off, I’ll stitch you up.” Dean starts rifling through his bag for supplies, rolling some kinks out of his neck.

“It doesn’t even hurt, I just need you to pop my shoulder back in so I can take a shower.”

“I don’t give a shit what hurts, slugger. You’re going to pass out in the tub if you keep up the stuck pig act.”

You roll your eyes and reluctantly try to slide your arms out of the jacket, wincing when you jostle the dislocated arm. Dean takes the sopping coat from you and tosses it into the kitchenette sink from where he stands, the concern coloring his face when you look back at him not reassuring you at all. He puts the floss-threaded needle he’d had in his hand between his teeth and starts pulling on your collar.

“Shoulder first,” you insist, done wiggling and writhing out of clothes before your shoulder is where it belongs.

Dean’s mouth tightens into a firm line but he backs up to give himself enough room to shove, an exasperated hand beckoning you. “Okay, you ready?” he says around the needle, looking like a farmer field medic with a piece of hay.

“Yeah just let me—FUCK,” you grunt when he catches you off guard without any preamble, clutching at the shoulder for a moment until you could take a deep breath. You do a test rotation and are happy at the relative lack of pain, trying not to be frustrated that Dean didn’t warn you so you wouldn’t tense up.

“Shirt off.” Dean’s tone is firm and precise, no room for discussion, as he gets out a lighter and watches intently to heat up the needle.

“Wow, you sure know how to make someone feel special,” you hum, feeling much looser without the shooting pain from your shoulder. The buttons of the flannel come undone relatively easy, but the fabric makes a sickly wet thwack as you snap it down to rest around your elbows.

From his spot at your side, you see Dean’s face contort in surprise and watch as he reflexively reaches out a thumb to rub the skin of your shoulder.

“Ow, what the hell?” you flinch.

“Has this always been here?” he asks, partly amazed but mostly incredulous as his eyes trace the inky lines of the dragons where they wind around your skin.

“I wasn’t born with them if that’s what you mean.” You can tell he’s truly shocked because he doesn’t even react to the jab, just hovers a gentle fingertip over the tattoo. “Earth to Dean? I thought you were all scared about me bleeding out.”

He gulps and clears his throat before covering with a smile that’s a combination of cheeky and shy. “Right, yeah, sorry. Just didn’t realize I was in the presence of The Tattooed Wonder.”

“Hardly, I only have a few. Now start stitching before I change my mind and wait for Sam; his are way neater than yours anyway.”

“Few? Where are the other ones? Girls on the back of your leg that hula when you walk?”

“Nice try.”

He bites his lip before shifting the strap of your tank top off and sponging the back of your shoulder with a wet towel. When he unceremoniously pours a slug of whiskey over the wound you feel it for the first time and hiss, adrenaline and distraction of the joint pain worn off.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, already dragging floss tight on a stitch with his teeth and moving on to the next as quickly as he can, half-humming that old Queen song, “gonna get me on the track, got a dragon on my back.”

You weren’t lying earlier when you’d said that Sam’s stitches were usually cleaner, but Dean is being very careful in a way he usually isn’t—Chicks dig scars, Sammy! Stopped the bleeding, didn’t it?—and you tip your head back to check his work. The extra time he’s taking is to match up the back of one of the dragons, ripped open by a werewolf claw and currently held together by the delicate pinch of Dean’s index and thumb.

It’s tough, but you manage to grab the reins on a smirk. Dean doesn’t notice, too focused on trying to keep the damage to your tattoo at a minimum. The gesture and the concentration are impossibly sweet, even though you’d long accepted that ink injury was inevitable with your lifestyle.

When he’s done, callused fingertips tugging the last knot in place, Dean grabs the whiskey again. “Hold still,” he breathes, close enough you can feel it dance across the skin of your neck, and you hope he can’t see the goosebumps trailing down your arms like ivy. “That should do it. You can grab the first shower, but it’s big enough that some gauze on top for a few days wouldn’t hurt.”

“Thanks,” you answer, startled and annoyed at your own voice when it creaks a touch. The flannel feels gross and heavy with blood, so you pull your arms out entirely and reach to drop it in the wastebasket.

“I can deal with that if you want,” he offers, ruffling the velvet-short hair at the back of his neck. “The coat too. Not the first time getting blood out of clothes.”

“Oh, okay. Uh, thanks. That would be really nice.”

Dean only meets your eyes for the most fleeting moment when he takes it before biting his lip again and nodding to himself. You get to your feet and gingerly slip the displaced straps back over your shoulder, feeling the shift in energy in the room and not knowing what to do with it. Settling for a jocular little punch to Dean’s bicep, you grin at him. “Thanks for putting me back together, doc.”

Sam comes back a couple minutes after you’ve closed the bathroom door with a translucent plastic bag full of first aid supplies. “In the shower?”

Dean looks up from where he’s sitting on the couch and hands Sam the beer he’d already gotten out of the fridge in anticipation, his leg bouncing rapidly. “Yeah. They have everything?”

His younger brother nods and accepts the bottle, taking a sip before laying out his haul on the coffee table and tossing the bag. “You okay?”

He glances up with a quirked eyebrow. “Just tired, man.”

Sam waits a silent beat, giving Dean a chance to spill whatever it is.

“Did you, ah—did you know Y/N’s all inked up like a friggin’ sailor?”

Sam chuckles and runs his tongue over his teeth. “A sailor? Y/N’s only got a few tattoos, dude.”

“You knew?”

“Of course I knew, some people like to learn things about their friends. That’s why you’re acting weird?”

Dean scowls over the glass lip of his beer before taking a long pull. “Not acting weird, sue me for being surprised we’re working with the goddamn Hunter With The Dragon Tattoo.” His voice is low and surly like a kid on the edge of a tantrum even he knows isn’t worth it.

“Y/N can do whatever they want, Dean. It doesn’t matter if you like the tattoos, you’re not their dad.” Sam’s barely keeping the giggle out of his voice, enjoying Dean’s frustration the way only a little brother could.

“No, I don’t—it’s not that I don’t like them,” Dean stammers, the end of the statement fading off as a flush starts rising in his cheeks. He knows he’s said too much and Sam jumps on it.

“Wait—you do like them, don’t you?” He crashes onto the couch, long limbs just enough in Dean’s space to be irritating. “I bet you loooooove knowing about those tattoos—I bet you’re dying to see them.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Dean growls, kicking Sam in the thigh with a socked foot. Sam blocks him and starts laughing hard enough it makes him rattle all over like he’s on a rickety rollercoaster. When he finally catches his breath Dean is still pouting to whatever syndicated sitcom he’d thrown on. Over the tinny TV speakers they hear the shower turn off.

“You know, if you’re feeling shy I could say something for you.” Sam’s grin is ten steps past cheeky, firmly planted in devilish, and he waggles his eyebrows suggestively over top of dimples perfectly sliced into his cheeks.

Dean’s eyes widen like a cartoon and his voice is a gravelly hiss as he grabs a tight handful of Sam’s t-shirt, now crisp with dried blood. “Sam, I fucking swear to God—” but the threat is ineffectual, sheepish panic clear as anything on his face. The glint in Sam’s eye brightens and he twists out of his brother’s grip before he can react, crossing the room in a few huge steps so he’s nearly face to face with you when you open the bathroom door, Dean leaping off of the couch to chase him and slamming into Sam’s back when he stops short.

“Whoa, Jesus—you scared the shit out of me,” you breathe, one hand on top of your fresh t-shirt to still your racing heartbeat, fistful of dirty laundry in the other.

“Just need that second shower, didn’t mean to freak you out!” Sam smiles, warm and light and genuine. “Thanks! Gauze is on the table if you want it.” he says as he slips past you with a friendly and familiar kiss on the cheek, wink that you can’t see to Dean over your shoulder as he closes the bathroom door fast enough that the mirror next to the frame barely even steams.

“Hey, could you—” you start.

“Hey, do you—” Dean says at the exact same time. You both chuckle, and you can’t tell if you’re annoyed or not that the little charge in the room didn’t dissolve while the dried blood on you had rinsed down the shower drain. Dean holds up an open palm to indicate that you should go first.

“Could you cover those stitches for me? The skin is kind of catching on my shirt.”

“Uh, yeah. Definitely.”

Shaking your hair loose and hanging the towel it was in on the back of a kitchenette chair, you sit on the edge of the bed to tug the collar of your t-shirt as far onto your shoulder as you can. Dean snatches some medical tape and a couple 4x4s from the table and sits down next to you, the heat coming off of him soothing the chill of the few remaining drops of water cooling on your skin. “I’m gonna need more slack than that,” he says, trying to be matter-of-fact but not quite covering the gooey softness around the edges that are making his voice more sultry than gruff. You try to pull harder on the collar but it’s already digging into your neck. The hand holding the gauze floats down to Dean’s lap while he rubs his jaw with the other. “Do you—could you just take it off?”

You roll your eyes at him.

“Or live with it, see if I care.” He holds your gaze, and that stubbornness you recognize.

Reluctantly, you move your arm inside the shirt and slip it out from under the bottom hem, squirming in a way that covers your chest while exposing your shoulder. When he sweeps the shirt back you reflexively jolt away from him like you’ve been shocked. “Not being fresh, just don’t want to tape it in,” he murmurs.

“I noticed you put the lines together really straight; thanks for that.”

“Only took an extra second.” He rips another piece of tape off a roll with his teeth and is being so deliberate that now you’re sure he’s stalling for another few seconds to keep touching you but you don’t care; the feeling of his fingertips on your skin is tender and delicious.

“If I knew you were going to be that careful, I would’ve been letting you do my stitches this whole time.”

“Guess I’m just a regular damn seamstress,” he smiles, finally smoothing the last tape and only surreptitiously glancing out of the corner of his eye as you tuck your arm back into its sleeve. “So seriously, what’re the other tattoos?”

“I’m sure you’ll see them soon enough,” you whisper as you stand up, committing to memory the way it makes Dean’s pupils flare as you ease under the scratchy motel sheets on the opposite bed.

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass @vxnderlindes @deanwinchesterswitch @akshi8278 @itsjensenanddean @flannellover67 @weepingwillowphoenix @tj-drinks-tea @whatareyousearchingfordean @winchestergirl2 @winchest09 @samwisethegr8 @fawnxng @nurse-sarahrn @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love @thewinchesterandreidwhore @deanwanddamons @stressedoutkitten @winchestershiresauce @tatted-trina6 @percico-heronstairs @downanddirtydean @moosewinchester-deactivated2021 @queenoftheunderdark @lyarr24 @wonder-cole @sergeantsea

And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

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thewayiremember · 4 years

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youtube

EPISODE 1

July 5, 7:20 PM – 4 DAYS AFTER THE INCIDENT

Nathaniel Blake is lying across from me. He’s 16 years old, 5.9, 154 lbs, has no allergies, and no chronic illnesses. At least that’s what his medical chart says. How I got access to that is not important. I don’t actually know the guy, but we’ve been practically inseparable for the last couple of days. Plus, even though he hasn’t regained his consciousness yet, I’m sure he complains as much as I do about being here. He just cannot express his frustration. I have it easy. I can roll my eyes and sigh as loud as I want to. But there’s no one to see it, so, what’s the point?

Nathaniel Blake was supposed to travel across the Pacific in a couple of days for his dream vacation in Australia. He has been preparing for that trip since last summer and it was kind of a big deal because that would be his first totally independent adventure. I know that because his grandparents lament about it every time they visit. He can probably hear you. It won’t make him feel better if you keep reminding him how sad it is he won’t be able to go. His left arm is encased with a cast. Luckily, the doctors said it should heal very nicely, and that he shouldn’t have any movement difficulties afterward.

I always pretend to be asleep when he has visitors, so I have a little trouble forming opinions about his friends. He has too many. They seem like good fellas, though. The guests usually come in the mornings, which works for me cause it’s easier to play dead when you’re still tired. I know they would feel a lot less comfortable talking to him if they knew I’m awake. Plus, I wouldn’t feel comfortable looking at their sad faces, either.

I talk to Nathaniel a lot. I feel a little guilty because I can’t know for sure he even wants me to talk to him, but the silence of this place really gets to me. So I made him my friend in spite of him being unconscious. He knows me really well. He can’t tell me to shut up, so, I never do. I try not to whine too much and keep it positive to cheer him up after all that sobbing he’s forced to listen to, but I can’t always help myself. My buttcheeks hurt from not really changing this half-seated position and the wi-fi dies on me every five seconds. I have plenty to complain about.

But he’s alive. And I’m alive. So, there’s that.

It’s nice to have a friend who listens so well, but I do hope he wakes up eventually. Keeping my fingers crossed.

There’s a TV hanging from the ceiling but I don’t know how desperate I’d have to get to turn it on. The ads play every ten minutes and they’re so loud it makes me even more hyper and annoying. We don’t want that. At least I have plenty of time to meditate. No… I don’t meditate, I just watch Netflix. Though I never realized staring at the screen all day could be so exhausting. Headaches are no fun. So I have to take brakes, and then I’m left with me, myself, and this beautiful ward.

And that is not sarcasm. It’s actually really pretty. Minimalistic, by budget, or design, who cares? We can see only whites, blues, and some pink-ish whites. And the light wooden window frames on the tilted wall complement those colors very nicely. There’s not a lot of space in this room, but in my opinion, it makes it cozier. We have our own bathroom that seems clean and doesn’t give you chills when you walk in. Not that we use it much, especially not Nathaniel. And for me getting out of bed is still very challenging so I try not to drink too much so I won’t have to go to the toilet too often. I have the smallest bladder on Earth.

The sun is setting and the whole mood starts shifting. I have a wide view of the lake when I look outside the window. The water reflects all the colors of the sky. A gradient of perfectly aligned hues is breaking through the clouds. It’s insane how sexy the sky can be. Lots of blues, yellows, and purples. Do you know what else has lots of blues, yellows, and purples? My chest. Not as sexy, though.

It’s been five days since I was brought to the hospital. I can’t tell if it’s a long time or not, but I feel like the recovery isn’t gonna be as difficult as I thought it would be at the beginning. When I first woke up in this bed I could barely breathe. It felt like my ribs were all shattered into pieces and my face was so swollen I couldn’t open my left eye. The bruises aren’t really fading away just yet, but I’d say half of the pain is gone. At least I can breathe, see and eat normally.

I used to be obsessed with watching medical programs. Plastic surgeries, body transformations, treating horrifying skin conditions, but they tend to be very repetitive and predictable, so I especially liked the ones when something went wrong along the way. Like that one time, the doctors were stitching up the patient’s toes and they couldn’t bring back the blood flow. And of course, it’s probably a little scripted for the sake of the show, but they did look genuinely terrified that the toes would turn black and fall out. That was exciting. Luckily, I didn’t need any surgeries. I’m pretty much just bruised up, I think. No internal bleeding, no broken bones, but they wanted to do some more tests on me and asked me to stay for a couple more days.

My parents come to visit once a day, but somehow they manage to make this place even gloomier than when I’m alone. I’m surprised they even care. Or maybe they just feel obligated to come. Like, we barely even talk. Why are you here? I mean, I DO get it. Not everybody has to like each other, not even people blood-related. And it’s fine. We’re just very different people. And if it makes them feel better when they come to check on me, that’s cool. I feel like I am understanding, but still, I’m not gonna lie, this whole situation is very frustrating.

I am aware that the problem is more on my side, cause most of the things they say wouldn’t bother me if they were said by somebody else. Today (like every day since I’ve been here) they asked me how I was feeling. Now, if any of my friends or nurses asked about it, I’d take it as an act of caring. But when the same question is asked by my parents, in my mind I go berserk. And how do you think I’m feeling? Have you looked at my face? Even though in reality I don’t feel that bad. I don’t know where that anger comes from. Maybe because they never cared before. Why now? But I just reply, as politely as I can, that I feel OK.

10:30 PM

I wear earplugs when it’s bedtime because once it gets dark and the rest of the hospital’s asleep, the heart rate monitor that Nathaniel’s still attached to, I swear, levels up in volume. I need something to occupy my mind. I just read 100 random facts on some website and did you know that by taking just one step you use over 200 muscles in your body? That means that today I used the same 200 muscles at least 20 times in three series while I had to use the bathroom. That’s a legit workout if you ask me.

There’s a group of friends skinny-dipping in the lake. I wonder how much time it will take for them to get in trouble. They are far away from any buildings, I can barely see them myself, and there’s a pretty dense forest spreading behind the lake, but that’s no less than half a mile away. Other than that, the space is quite open.

10:45 PM

I can hear dr. Gramm talking on the phone behind the door. I swear she doesn’t sleep. Or even go home, like, ever. She’s the one who takes care of me and Nathaniel. She and the whole staff… they really seem to care. It’s nice to see them coming in here so often to make sure that we’re doing OK. And here’s the thing, Nathaniel can’t complain, and every time they check on us, they make sure to adjust his body so that he’s comfortable. Sweet.

Since I can’t actually remember what happened to me and why I’m here, after long conversations and many check-ups on me to make sure there’s no any brain damage, dr. Gramm told me that thinking out loud makes your brain work more… efficiently. She must have read those 100 random facts on the internet as well. I’m pretty sure it was a fact nr. 48.

Well, I don’t know about thinking out loud. She probably wouldn’t be happy to hear that I traveled back in time. I think I’d be put in a different kind of hospital. So, I hope keeping a journal will do just fine.

#short story #journal #fiction #middle grade #young adult #story #lgbt #lgbtq #love #romance #diary #book #audiobook #youtube #gay #mistery #queer #time travel #mm #male romance

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dreamwritesimagines · 6 years

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Bad Habit 6- Trainwreck [Billy Russo x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for the amazing support, my lovelies! ❤️

Billy Russo x Reader, Karen Page, Frank Castle, Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson.

Summary: Sometimes, a gun can mean many things.

Click here for: Bad Habit 1, Bad Habit 2, Bad Habit 3 Bad Habit 4 Bad Habit 5

Click here to see the playlist for the first 4 parts!

Warning: Explicit language, cussing, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 3524

Please tell me what you think

Gif’s not mine!

“Okay, think.” You muttered to yourself. “Think!”

You had left Karen’s office in a rush, in a desperate need of fresh air –as much as you could get with two bodyguards that was a sign of Billy’s Don’t Die approach- and then made your way to the café, the only place which could get your mind off the feeling of impending doom that was your brother. You were so distracted that you had completely forgotten about the way you looked, or that your friends had no idea about what had happened to you, so as soon as you walked inside and Vicky turned to look at you, she froze.

“Damn it,” You mumbled, “Vicky. Hi.”

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened to you?!” She asked as she put the tray to one of the empty tables, and made her way to you, but was stopped by Simon. The guy sitting close to you looked up at you, and them, frowning slightly before going back to his newspaper.

“Ma’am, please keep your-“

“Simon,” You threw your hands up, “My dude, you gotta chill. It’s fine.”

“What is happening right now?” Vicky asked you, completely confused and you shrugged,

“Meet my uh… my new friends.”

“Nice to meet you.” Isaac said and Vicky and Simon both turned to look at him, making him seem to regret his decision about opening his mouth.

“You too.” Vicky mumbled, mouthing “What the fuck?” to you, before smiling at Simon.

“What happened to your face?”

“Long story.”

“Make it short.”

“I got mugged.” You stated, “So there.”

“You okay?”

You nodded, crossing your arms, “Mm hm.”

“And these are your…bodyguards?”

“Friends.”

“Friends that stop people from getting close to you?”

“Overprotective friends.”

“Do you even have enough money to get bodyguards?”

You shot her a look, “You’ve seen me getting excited over a five dollar tip, do you really think I have enough money for bodyguards?” You asked, “Courtesy of Billy Russo, charmingly hot guy who wants to teach me how to shoot a gun.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the customer’s head snapping up and staring at you for a couple of seconds, but he averted his eyes when you turned to shoot him a quizzical look.

“How to shoot a gun?”

“Yep.” You turned to Vicky “I have a gun now.”

“I haven’t seen you for like a day?” Vicky seemed sincerely confused, then waved her hands “Walk me through it.”

“Okay, so the hot guy who gets off on guns-“

“Billy.”

“Yeah, he took me out, then drove me home after I almost killed myself with spicy Chinese food. Then Karen asked me to go outside, you know, her technical ex-“ the customer lowered the newspaper a little but you paid no attention to that, “And his partner, they were all drinking outside. So I was going there, I got-“ You cleared your throat, “I got mugged. Woke up in the hospital. Billy dropped by my house, got pissed, and now I have bodyguards and a gun, because apparently that’s what happens when the former Special Forces rich boy gets pissed.”

“My head is spinning.”

“Dude, you’re telling me-“ Your eyes found the figure behind the counter and you frowned, “Who’s the new guy, where’s Liz?”

“Liz’s boyfriend got this allergic reaction or some shit, she had to go to hospital. That’s the part timer.”

“He’s cute.”

Vicky wiggled her brows, “I know, right? Sit down, I’m getting you a piece of cake and coffee, you look like you’ll need it, and we can talk on my break.” She took a look at Isaac and Simon, “Your bodyguards want anything?”

“No thank you ma’am.”

“Come on, I’m buying.” You shrugged, “Apple pie?”

“Coming right up.” Vicky walked to the counter and heat the pies and prepare the coffee while you sat down to the closest seat, and Simon and Isaac took another table –which you guessed was the standard when it came to protecting people and being invisible at the same time. The customer that you had caught looking at you fixed his hat, then cleared his throat.

“Sorry ma’am, I couldn’t help to hear.” He said and you rolled your eyes.

“Jesus Christ, are we in the Princess Diaries now? Why does everyone keep calling me ma’am?”

That seemed to made him chuckle, and you narrowed your eyes,

“You look familiar, have I seen you somewhere before?”

He shook his head, “Don’t think so. I’m Pete.” He extended his hand, “Pete Castiglione.”

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand, “So what’s up with ma’am, Pete? Do the stitches make me look old?”

“It’s an old habit, from Marine forces.”

You raised your brows, still trying to find out where you had seen him before, “You served?”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded, “Sorry for eavesdropping.”

“Well, I’m in a public space, so not like I can exactly blame you.”

“Just wanted to say-“ he looked like he was fighting off a proud smirk for some reason. “You said your man was in Special Forces?”

You could feel the burning spreading your cheeks, “I wouldn’t exactly call him my man.” You shrugged, trying to play it cool, “But yeah, this dude I’m…” You did air quotes “This dude I know. Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say that if he’s giving you a gun, that’s some serious shit.”

“Hold the fuck on, was that symbolic?” Your jaw dropped, “Jesus, motherfucker doesn’t tell me anything about army gestures!”

Your string of cusses seemed to make Pete smile and you heaved a deep sigh, leaning back.

“My life is a legit shit show right now.” You pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes until you could see the small dots of lights in the darkness, then pulled your hands back to fold them behind your head, making a face, while Vicky served Isaac and Simon their slices, then came to put yours onto the small table, winked at you and walked back to the counter. You whined, pushing at your apple pie with the fork.

“Dude…” You heaved a sigh, “Fuck coffee, I need booze.”

You grabbed your phone from your pocket and found Karen’s contact, then took the phone to your ear.

“Karen?” You said as soon as she picked up, “Code red. Bring your ex-boyfriend and his ex-boyfriend.”

She only paused for a second before answering.

“Which bar?”

Escaping bodyguards seemed to be easier than you had originally thought it would be. All you had to do was to say you would use the employee bathroom, walk into the kitchen and escape from the backdoor. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel guilty for dodging Isaac and Simon, but you just felt like you needed to breathe, so you took the metro, met Karen, Matt and Foggy at the bar and now you had been drinking for three hours straight.

“So like, from a dude’s perspective-“ You slammed the shot glass down and looked at Foggy. “From a dude’s perspective, the fuck is this?”

“Don’t ask me. Creepy dude in the café gave you your answer.”

“He wasn’t creepy!” You defended Pete, “He was really nice. He enlightened me about…about stuff.”

“About a dude giving you a gun might have a deeper meaning?”

“When you put it like that…” You mumbled and Foggy scoffed.

“Does this mean your schoolgirl crush on Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is gone?”

“Fuck no, we’re gonna get married!” You snapped, “I mean…we just gotta meet first.”

“Such a great start,” Matt stated and you shot him a look.

“And that’s why you won’t be invited to the wedding, Matty.” You chastised “It’s true love!”

Karen pressed her hand to her lips to hide her laugh, but Foggy made no effort of hiding his own laugh, making you flip them and down another shot.

“You know what I’m gonna do?”

“You’re gonna call the pretty boy with the gun fetish.”

“I’m gonna call the pretty boy with the gun fetish!” You slammed your hand on the table, nodding and Karen grabbed her beer bottle before it got knocked over, while shaking her head fervently.

“No, Y/N, give me the phone.”

“I’m not giving you my phone.”

“Give Matt your phone.”

Matt held out his hand, bowing to the inevitable.

“I’m not giving Matt my phone.” You said, and Foggy snorted,

“What if he promised to introduce you to Daredevil?”

Matt rolled his eyes, “He’s drunk.”

“We’re all drunk, Matt.”

“That’s why it’s not a good idea to call the pretty boy.” He motioned for your phone and you shook your head.

“I gotta ask him what the gun means.”

“You got rid of his bodyguards and now you wanna call him?”

“Mixed signals thing is my shit.” You said and stumbled as soon as you stood up, but managed to find your balance by holding onto a stool, and walked outside

“Don’t get mugged!” Karen and Foggy called out after you and you nodded slowly, finding Billy’s name in your contacts and hit call.

He answered on the first ring.

“Where are you?”

You hissed in a breath “I’m guessing you talked to Simon and Isaac?”

“No shit.”

“And you’re pissed.”

“And you’re drunk.”

You leaned on the dusty wall of the bar, “A little,” You confessed, “But hey, I got a gun now!”

“Don’t shout that in public, please?”

You rolled your eyes, “I got a question for you.”

“I got many questions for you.” He said and you groaned,

“Fine, wait for your turn first. What does the gun symbolize?”

There was a pause, “I’m sorry?”

“Like what does that mean? What does the gun mean?”

“…How drunk are you?”

“Is it like a code in the army?”

“Yeah.”

You held your breath, “What does it mean?”

“It means you shoot your attacker.” He said calmly, “Where are you?”

“In a bar.”

“Where?”

“In New York.”

He let out a breath, as if praying for patience, “Y/N…”

“I’m fine, I’m with friends,” You said, “We’re gonna leave in an hour or so.”

“Send me the address; I’ll come to pick you up.”

“Billy, you don’t have to-“

“You’re drunk, it’s night time, and you live in a sketchy neighborhood,” His voice was stern, “Send me the address when you’re ready to leave.” With that, he hung up and you huffed out, then made your way back inside.

When you, Karen and the boys were ready to leave, it was very late and you were the only people in the bar. You stumbled your way out of the bar and grinned when Matt pulled you upright.

“What a gentleman.” You teased, making him chuckle.

“Jesus, you’re wasted.”

“Is that the guy?” Foggy asked you and you turned to look at the direction he was staring at, still giggling. Billy was leaning against his car, busy with his phone and you heaved a sigh at how effortlessly handsome he looked. If your hormones were more out of your control, you’d probably start serenading the guy with a poem right there and then.

“Do you know a word that rhymes with scruff?” You asked Foggy, who only shot you a look “Hey, how’s this; You look like you like it rough, also I like you and your scruff.”

“Shakespeare, get out the way.” Foggy commented drily and you scoffed, but by the time you could walk his way he had already seen you, so he pushed himself off the car and approached you silently.

“Miss Page.”

“Mr Russo.” Karen, by some miracle, managed to look sober and professional even after countless shots. You were still holding onto Matt’s arm, so he extended his other hand towards Billy.

“Matt Murdock.”

“Billy Russo.” Billy introduced himself “I watched you and your partner in the Frank Castle case.”

“Which was basically a disaster.” Foggy mumbled after shaking hands with Billy.

“I thought it was a great job actually.” Billy said silkily, “Not many lawyers in Hell’s Kitchen stand up for what’s right anymore, good to see there are exceptions.”

“See?” You slapped Foggy on the arm, “Told you, jackass.”

“You ready, Y/N?” Billy turned to you at last and you nodded.

“Do you guys need a ride? Miss Page?”

“No thank you,” Karen smiled slightly, stealing a look at you “Matt and Foggy are taking me home.”

“We are?” Foggy asked, but stopped talking as soon as Karen raised a brow, shooting him a warning look. “Yeah- yeah we are.”

“See you guys later!” You said as you pulled away from Matt and made your way to Billy’s car. You got in and buckled your seatbelt, then he started the car while you rolled down your window, enjoying the night breeze on your hair, leaning your head back to the seat. For the whole road, both of you were silent, partly because you were trying really hard to regulate your breathing and not throw up in his extremely expensive car. He eventually pulled over in front of your house in the ‘sketchy neighborhood’ as he put it and you took a deep breath.

“Thank you.” You muttered, without opening your eyes and he chuckled,

“Anytime.”

“Are you still pissed?” You asked, and opened your eyes, “Would a poem help you feel better?”

He drummed his long fingers on the steering wheel, deep in thought. It was more than obvious that he was still angry about you dodging his bodyguards, but it was also obvious that he was so used to not showing his emotions, so he just fell into silence, as if he couldn’t decide how to react. You turned around so that you could see him better.

“What did the gun mean?”

He licked his lips, and turned to bore his eyes into yours, making your heart beat faster.

“Do you question everyone or should I feel special?” His voice was way too calm as it washed over you, and you rolled your eyes, slipping a little in your seat, and leaning your knees against the dashboard. You ran your fingernails over the worn out fabric of your ripped jeans, trying to find the right words.

“I’m not good with the whole…” You cleared your throat, “I can’t think when people are around me. You, or Karen, or…even your bodyguards. I just- I can’t think. People distract me.” You let out a laugh, “You, especially. It’s like this week is…” You trailed off and he waited patiently.

“I’m way too drunk, man…”

“This week is what?”

You licked your lips and ran your fingers through your hair, pulling at the roots hard enough to hurt.

“I should probably go.” You mumbled and pushed the car door open, then walked to your building but of course your head started spinning once more. You grabbed at the door handle and out of the corner of your eye, you saw that he got out of his car, then made his way to you.

“Fuck, I can’t even be mysterious and shit without a head spin.” You muttered as you fished your keys out of your bag, pulling your earphones and pens along with it. You huffed out as you tried to find the keyhole and looked up at the windows, seriously considering buzzing one of your neighbors, but by some miracle you managed to find the keyhole and open the door as soon as Billy reached you.

“You should go to sleep,” You tried to play it cool as you grabbed at the iron handrail and climbed the stairs slowly.

“I know. I’m still walking you to your actual door.”

“No offense, but I’m not gonna sleep with you when I’m this drunk.” You said as you reached your door, jingling the keys in your hand, “I really wanna remember it when it happens, because you look like you’d be really good at it.”

That seemed to make him smile a little, and he shook his head,

“I’m not that much of an asshole,” he said as you leaned your back to the door, grinning up at him,

“Billy?”

He leaned his hand to the wall beside your head, “Hm?”

“What is gonna happen to Isaac and Simon?” You asked him and he shrugged,

“Why?”

“I don’t want them to get into trouble. Isaac is like a puppy.”

“Oh no worries, you’ll see them again.”

You played with the hem of his dark green shirt, “You know, it sounds like you’re actually worried about me.”

He looked down at you, sides of his lips turning upwards with an amused smile and he pursed his lips as if he was trying to hide it, bowing his head a little.

“I’m using my right to remain silent.” He quoted you, and you giggled,

“You’re cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“You’re very cute.” You teased him, “Not cuter than Isaac, but you have your moments.”

“Is that so?” He raised his brows “Well, it sure as fuck sounds like Isaac needs a new job.”

“No!” You protested, making him chuckle and he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, making you close your eyes momentarily.

“I don’t like competition.”

“Good thing there’s no competition then.”

“At all?”

You frowned slightly, and snorted, “Billy, if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, stop thinking.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Matt is technically Karen’s ex. You don’t touch your friends’ exes.”

“Wouldn’t know, I actually touched a couple of my friends’ exes.”

You made a face, “You just know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you Russo?” You asked him and tried to find the keyhole while he leaned his back against the wall, arms crossed.

“Just saying,” he said, “I mean, he’s got that whole gentleman lawyer thing covered-“

“That’s because he is a lawyer and a gentleman, it’s not that surprising?”

“And you know what they say about lawyers.”

“Is it worse than what they say for private military contractors? Jesus-” You managed to find the keyhole but this time the door didn’t budge. You rolled your eyes, pushing it a little.

“Wrong key?”

“No, it’s- I think it’s jammed-“ You pushed at the door a little and heard the lock slide with a click as Billy’s head shot up “Finally-“

What happened next; happened in a second. Before the door could open with your push, Billy had already tackled you to the ground as a deafening gunshot echoed through the empty hall, and you heard the bullet whizzing through the wooden door and hitting the wall behind you. The sound was so loud that your ears started to ring and Billy pressed your head to the floor with his arms while shielding your whole body with his, his weight pressing you down as the echo stopped and left you breathless, and you heard a scream coming from your neighbor’s apartment, probably due to fear. When there were no more gunshots, he pulled back slightly, and looked down at you, his eyes frantically searching your face as the ringing got a little better.

“You okay? Are you hurt?”

You mentally checked yourself and shook your head, still panting, “Y-You?”

“Stay here.” He demanded as he got off of you and cocked his gun, his whole body on alert as he took a step into the apartment, looking around with his gun ready to shoot at any small movement, as if a switch inside of him had just been flipped. You tried to regulate your breathing and see through the mind numbing panic,

“Billy!” You whispered and as he walked into the living room and you tried to stand up on your shaky legs but it was only for a second before your legs gave up due to fear and you fell on your knees, hard. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and dug your fingernails into your palms, trying to pull yourself together before you grabbed at the iron handrail again, this time to pull yourself up. You tried to put some of your weight on your trembling legs, and a spark of pain shot through your stomach.

Of course. You had just popped your stitches.

Billy walked back to the door after checking your bathroom and bedroom, and touched the gun mechanism facing the door while you crossed your arms over your stomach, hiding the wound.

“I’ve seen this before,” he muttered, his fingertips following the string that tied the gun’s trigger to the door “Supposed to fire as soon as you open the door.”

You gulped, still trying to make sense of what just happened, “How did you-?”

“I heard a click,” he said slowly, and shot you a bitter smile, “Experience.”

You pressed your hands to your knees, doubling up to keep the pain from showing on your face, but as soon as you did, the small folded paper lying innocently on the floor caught your eye. Billy’s eyes followed your movements as you picked it up.

“Don’t touch that-“ he started but it was too late. You unfolded the paper, and all of a sudden, your breathing got way, way worse when you recognized the handwriting.

Hi sis. We need to talk.

Part 7 is here!

1K notes · View notes

mymistakewriting · 7 years

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YouTuber AU part 4 - Farlan, Isabel, and Levi headcanons

How much time do they spend recording and editing their videos? Levi:

It depends on the video.

If it's a music rant video, he spends very little time actually recording because he doesn't script everything he wants to say out. He makes notes, sure, but he says things in such a way that he doesn't have to spend ages explaining things. He does, however, spend a long time editing these videos because he wants them to be perfect and understandable.

His gaming videos, though, he spends ages recording (because have you ever seen the length of a typical episode of a game walk through?) but rarely spends long on editing unless he's absolutely fucked up on a few things.

Most of his editing time in his gaming videos goes to making sure everything looks seamless and that the audio stays level and is able to be heard perfectly fine.

Farlan:

He spends a long time recording his videos, considering he does DIY and baking videos. The DIY ones are easier on him than the baking videos, but they're also less frequently recorded and posted.

But his editing times go through the freaking roof.

He has the tendency to forget that he's recording at some points when he isn't instructing people on what to do (aka when whatever he's making in a baking video is actually baking/chilling) so he has a lot of random bits and pieces to cut out and then has to make sure that the jumps aren't too obvious.

Isabel:

She spends a decent amount of time on recording - it varies depending on her hyperactivity levels and what she's talking about. If she's super excited, she messes up a lot.

But her editing times are super low even on these days because she doesn't care if the fans see her fumble and mess up. She just laughs it off in the video anyway, so what's the harm in leaving it in?

The boys don't understand why she isn't more nit picky about her editing, but if she's happy, so are they.

What happens when they forget/don't know that they're being recorded:

This happens most often if one of them is making a video for their side channel or just want to be cheeky in their main video

But it does happen to all of them occasionally where they're doing their own video and they forget the camera is on - it isn't as if they put forth a whole act for the camera, it feels natural so they don't always remember why they're doing what they're doing.

Levi:

He's always either playing with his phone or singing softly if he doesn't realize/forgets he's being recorded.

It's happened in several of his own videos because he thought he turned the camera off and the light wasn't signifying that it was recording any more that he could tell and then he goes to edit and what the fuck is this?

There's been a few times where he just couldn't care enough to edit it out - unless he's singing, in which case it goes immediately.

Farlan and Isabel have both posted videos with him singing quietly, though, so the fans have heard it regardless.

It always serves to embarrass him because thanks to his friends, he has a wide range of music that he listens to - the fans have gotten confused about what he generally listens to before because Farlan posted a video where they could just barely hear Levi singing at the end and it was some punk rock song and then Isabel posted one on her side channel that's just a little thirty-second clip of him singing Stitches.

He wants to be upset, but the fans are always so happy about these that he just can't.

Farlan:

He also has moments where he's humming or singing if he forgets or doesn't realize he's being recorded, but he couldn't care less when he realizes it.

If it isn't that, then it's legit a conversation with one or both of the others and it's so domestic that he'll cut it from the main video and just post that clip on his side channel.

Like, during one of his baking videos when he thought he stopped recording so that the dough could chill, Levi came into the kitchen to make some tea and it wound up with the two of them leaning against the counters with tea and just talking about something that Isabel was planning for the three of them.

But there's been moments where the others have recorded him and he hasn't realized it and he's watching some show on their crappy TV or reading and he just makes an offhand remark when they ask what he's up to - it's a normal occurrence.

Isabel:

If she forgets, she's usually seen dancing about or drumming absently on any surface she can reach.

She's just forgotten to turn the camera off before and then settled down to draw for a while and had to edit like crazy later on.

But everything she edits out of her videos gets posted to her side channel in compilations anyway, so the fans know about all of these things.

If she isn't aware that she's being recorded, it could legit be anything.

But she isn't really easily embarrassed, so she doesn't mind.

The fans have gotten a good image of her helping Levi clean before because of Farlan, and she just shrugged and grinned at it when she was asked about it in her next live stream.

Their most embarrassing moment on camera: Levi:

It actually happened on a live stream, otherwise the fans wouldn't have seen it.

He had been answering a question that someone asked about his own belief system - because Farlan likes to throw him under the bus on 'if you have questions about things like karma and stuff, go talk to Levi because he can definitely tell you about it' - and he paused to take a sip of tea and got startled by something being dropped in the kitchen and the next thing he knows, he's got tea all over him.

For someone who stays in a constant state of put together if his fans are going to see him, this was torment.

Plus he got quite upset because a lot of tea ended up on the floor that he'd just cleaned, damn it.

The fans know he's got a thing for cleanliness, but he completely ignores them and spends the next five minutes cleaning his mess up until it's as clean as before, then lets Isabel take over his stream and goes to change before returning.

It's the last one he does alone (so far, he does have plans to do another on his own).

Farlan:

Okay, so it wasn't his fault.

Technically.

He'd been doing a live stream as well, because otherwise he would have gotten rid of it so fast

Keep in mind that he's posted small videos on his side channel of a lot of affection after reading a cute story one of the fans have written - he has no qualms about indulging them in fluff and he's naturally affectionate anyway

But Levi just plops down on the couch beside him during a live stream, hands him a mug of tea and kisses his cheek before he disappears, leaving Farlan sputtering and staring after him in shock.

He gets a text from Levi about two minutes later with a link, which he clicks on.

He skims the story - he'll read it after - as he answers questions quietly, his entire face bright red.

(He leaves a long ass comment on the story once he's actually read it, explaining what had happened that lead to him being shown the story and saying that he'd enjoyed their writing.)

Isabel:

She doesn't get embarrassed often, okay?

She is very, very comfortable with herself.

Her embarrassing moment was her first live stream following the mess of Farlan's very first live stream.

They were all really worried about her and it left her flustered as she tried to explain what happened in an understandable way.

She's bright red when she sees some of their messages of 'I'll kill the bastards' and 'I'm really glad you're okay! Try to be more careful!' because the fans are so sweet and she's overwhelmed by their sweetness and love.

#youtuber au #attack on titan #levi ackerman #isabel magnolia #farlan church #headcanons

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justjoeyyy-blog-blog · 7 years

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Day 19-22

6-2-17 Day 19: I was able to get off the ship today in ensenada. We went to the "resort" that we went to last time. This time I got burnt. Only one person said something though compared to when I was burnt on my cruise in march and no one would leave me alone. The lady goes "are you okay?" And I was so confused until she touched her face lol. I got a strawberry daiquiri while I was at the resort and when it got to me there was salt on the rim...I thought it was sugar so I took a huge lick of it. Why the hell would you put salt with a strawberry daiquiri?? Then I sipped it and there was salt in the drink! I was so confused. Maybe it's Mexico thing? So I told the guy at the bar who doesn't speak and English that it was disgusting and salt doesn't go with a strawberry daiquiri and they said I didn't have to pay for it. I can seriously still taste it. After that I did the build a bear workshop. They had me stitching the bears which I had no idea how to do. I finally got the hang of it and at the end I was told I was tying them all wrong haha. I was with the 9-11 year olds again. And again we had people come in and say "this is it?! What is this?!" In which I have to explain that we do games that don't require much. Like one game we do where everyone ties a balloon to their ankle and you have to try and pop the other people's balloon. Whoever is last wins. The kids absolutely LOVE the games we do but it's hard to see when you walk in and see a conference room with a few games and a lot of space. One boy so rudely in front of his mom talked back to me about it, and by the end of the night he was the happiest kid in the world. The parents also get mad at me when I say we can't move their children into different age groups to be with their siblings. Like bitch I don't make up the rules why am I getting yelled at for this crap. One of the kids was 8 and wanted to be moved up. He walked in sucking his thumb...like wtf no turn away. For night owls tonight (10pm-1am) they were having a "party" for the older kids. The amount of kids in that tiny room was insane and probably proceeded the amount of people you can have in that room. Then on the other side we had 2 babies under the age of 2 as well as other young children with only 2 staff on each side. It is very important to always have someone at the door which means there's really only 1 person with the kids it's insane. There's a lot of things that could be changed to make work A LOT easier. I always think of undercover boss how they go in disguise to work at their own company's and they see all these terrible things that need to be changed. One huge example I have is when we do build a bear. There are 2 huge carts that we literally have to push from one end of the ship to the other. You have to have 2 people on each cart and they weigh easily 200+ pounds. The wheels on the bottom are old and barely work and we can't get the carts over the door frames on the way to our destination. They also barely fit through the doors so if you're not careful you'll literally squish your finger very badly. We also carry another huge cart that doesn't have any sides so we have to put tape all around it. Then when we're done we have to bring it back to camp and shove it into a tiny closet that of course is located right in the walk way that's about the size of a small dressing room. Carnival's first priority in their company is safety yet they have us doing this. It wouldn't be so bad if we had the things stored where we had the actual workshop. It's seriously ridiculous and it infuriates me that no one has said anything to the office about it. It's 12:11 right now. I need to go to bed. Tomorrow is day at sea which means working all freaking day. And then the next day my aunt and uncle are picking me up in Long Beach! So excited :) I haven't seen my aunt in about a year and I haven't seen my uncle since I was a freshman in college so it's been a while. Getting off the boat in general is always great. I'm also super happy because they fixed the light in my bunk and our desk. It usually takes them awhile but they got it done within a day. Today my roommate told me that she doesn't get pimples anywhere besides her butt. Like how do you respond to that? She's super sweet and very funny. Also very outgoing. She looks like a 10 year old. She is so tiny it's crazy. Much better than the last roommate that's for sure. 6-3-17 Day 20: got woken up this morning at 730 to the light being turned on. Then my roommate left for work and kept it on...I'm pretty sure I'm gonna move into rains room. I really like my new roommate but I need sleep 😳 it's not possible to do this job without sleep. Especially on a sea day like today where we work 10-12 hours. The boat is also really rocky today. I'm so nauseous. And it doesn't help that I keep having hot flashes. Like literally dripping sweat. I don't get it. It also doesn't help that we have to wear these stupid pants and ugly ass polo. My room legit smells like feet. 6-4-17 Day 21: I'm getting off the boat in 2 hours :) my aunt and uncle are picking me up. Yesterday was a long ass day. I finally started feeling better after I ate dinner yesterday. But now I'm feeling icky again. It feels like we're still moving but we're docked. I'm also low on sleep because my dumbass decided to go out last night instead of going to bed early. It was really fun though and I met a lot more people. It's pretty nice to be at a bar and then just walk down to your room within a minute. Before I went out me Rain Elle and britny went and saw the epic rock show. I've seriously never seen something so amazing. Our boat is known for having the best performers and performances. The vocals on these people are insane. I couldn't keep still in my seat. I got a little too into it. I'm really sad though because that cast is leaving in 2 weeks and a new cast is coming on board. On the bright side I'll be able to meet new people! Usually the guys are gay so no bf for me. But still more friends and maybe even another American :p I just realized that last night when I got back from the bar I took my pills that I'm supposed to take in the morning...I've never done that before. Speaking of medicine, I found out one of my friends from college passed away. I met him on the first night freshman year and he practically lived in our building. He was such a fun guy. I was told that they think he purposely overdosed. He just graduated in may and move to a new state just 2 weeks ago. Another friend gone by suicide. I so badly wish that we could do more for these people that need help. I also recently heard that someone I knows family member took his life just last week. I was reading one of my magazines the other day and there was a whole article on 13 reasons why. When I got on the boat no one really knew what I was talking about because they've been on here without access to internet (or at least internet that works well enough to watch shows). It's kinda cool how you escape from the outside world when you're on the boat. On a different note I think I'm going parasailing tomorrow in Catalina! I haven't been off at that port yet so I'm super excited. One of the guys I met who was in the fun squad had to leave the boat the other day because he lost his passport 😳 I literally thought this guy was in his 20s and he's 41.......my mind was blown. I thought he was messing with me. A lot of people on here look really young for their age. Getting off the boat today was great. My aunt and uncle picked me up. We ate outside and talked for hours and I got my nails done. Still need to get my haircut majorly. An hour ago I went to close the club (it's open for embarkation for like an open house) and it was fucking trashed again. Poker chips all over the place. Jenga pieces cover the floor. Uno and playing cards all mixed together. I just want to know wtf is going through these people's heads. And where are their parents? I don't think I'm going parasailing tomorrow either :/ I was gonna go with britny and now she has a training. I might go by myself though and lay out on the beach :) I open the club in an hour. I really shouldn't take a nap because it's just gonna make me more tired but I have an hour so I'm gonna. I got to meet the kids today. They're actually really awesome. One of the girls told me I'm the chilliest person ever lol. On captains dinner nights we have imaginary Prom. Tonight the kids got really into it and one of the boys made up a whole promposal for one of the girls it was hilarious. He made me play romantic music and he got down on one knee and asked her. And then they slow danced. It was so cute. I have a shit ton of kids. My club is way too small for the amount I have this cruise and really for any cruise. I don't have work tomorrow until 4 😍 I might get off in Catalina and go lay out at the beach alone or I might just lay out on the ship. We have to take tender boats to the port and it can get super chaotic. I'll get off another time when I have a friend to go with me. 6-5-17 Day 22: it's almost 1 and I'm still in bed. I had my alarm set for 1030 but that didn't happen obviously. I was having a really weird dream that I couldn't wake up from. I've had the weirdest dreams since I've been here it's freaky. I start at 3 today. Thought I started at 4 :/ I've already wasted my day away so I'll probably just sleep some more. I need it big time. I seriously love my kids. Besides the fact that they don't clean up after themselves. They loved the whole imaginary Prom idea. We had a prom king and queen it was great. Nominations and then voting. I wanted to rig the votes so the couple I like could win but some of the girls asked if they could help tally up the votes so it didn't work. I met someone moving to stl for a mission trip. He'll be living there for 2 years. Kinda interesting! He's Mormon. After work we had a party in the crew bar lounge. It was a lot of fun and I got to talk to a lot of people, especially one of the guys that's actually a potential option but he was wasted out the ass and definitely won't even remember talking tomorrow. I have training in 5.5 hours. It's 308am. But I had fun tonight so whatever.

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