Miss-Coffee

Shiro Headcanons
  • Watched Inuyasha as a kid. And Naruto. Lots of 90s/00s shonen anime, actually, which is a good seven decades old to him.
    • Really misses coffee.
    • May or may not have a soft spot for Irish Coffee.
    • Don’t tell Commander Holt, he’d be disappointed 
  • Once set a pot of water on fire in the Castle’s kitchen and then blamed it on Keith when Hunk asked for an explanation.
    • “The Red Lion is pretty well-aligned to fire, so it might give its paladin some abilities in that regard.”
    • Keith has never felt so betrayed.
  • He can waltz, but that’s about it for ballroom dances. Every time he tries something faster, or with even a hint of syncopation, he trips over his own feet.
    • Allura thinks it’s funny.
    • He can somehow breakdance, though? Everyone is very ??? about this.
      • “HOW?”
        “I mean, it’s not choreographed, so…”
        “That doesn’t exactly explain anything!”
  • One time, Coran caught him just standing in an empty room and screaming while holding his head between his hands. Not because of a flashback of anything, just screaming wordlessly at a wall for stress release. They don’t talk about it.
  • Can do a catwalk strut. In five-inch heels. He’s proven it to the team but still hasn’t explained why, when, or how he learned to do it.
  • Can flirt extraordinarily well for a mission. Cannot flirt with someone he’s actually interested in to save his life, unless it’s literally to save his life.
  • Almost instituted a swear jar out of sheer annoyance with the paladins deliberately misusing curse words, but relented when Keith suggested they also make an ‘unnecessary death jokes’ jar.
    • “It was one time, Keith. I don’t make that many jokes.”
    • “The last time Hunk asked if you were craving something, both you and Lance said ‘the sweet release of death.’ You make so many morbid jokes that you’ve infected Lance! Lance! He’s, like, the peppiest guy in existence!”
  • Has considered trying to challenge Hunk to an arm-wrestling contest.
    • Hasn’t actually gone through with it.
  • Once mistook Pidge for Matt while super dazed right after coming out of a cryopod. They haven’t talked about it.
  • Had to bargain with Coran for shaving supplies. Coran thinks that Shiro should be growing out his facial hair. Shiro vehemently disagrees.
Meant to Be - Part One: SOS

All Parts

Pairing: jamilton (Hamilton x Jefferson)

Request: Soulmate AU – When soulmates draw on themselves, it appears on the other’s skin as well.

Tagging: @elenarte @empyrealsakaki

Word Count: 1723

Warnings: swearing, anxiety, mentions of death, bullying

A/N: Whoops I think this is going to turn into a series… enjoy!


The first time Alexander Hamilton had ever spoken to his soulmate, he was seven years old, living on Nevis with his mother. He had written a poem on his wrist, hoping that whoever his perfect match was would read it. His soulmate had written back, That was a terrible poem. But thank you.

They’d talked every day from then on. Alex had learned to love this nameless, faceless person. When Alex was feeling vulnerable or anxious, he would write SOS on his arm, and his soulmate would begin to draw happy little doodles on his arm to cheer him up. It always worked.

Keep reading

Rescue (Older!Damian x Reader)

Requested: Yes

Request: could i request an older!damian x reader imagine where the reader lives in a bad part of gotham and loves animals so every now and then she leaves food for stray cats and dogs and plays with/pets them and damian observes her for a while when he goes on patrol because he feels curious about her??? You can decide the ending :)
Summary: You save the life of a poor kitten by risking your own, only to be rescued by Robin.
Word Count: 1172

A/N: OK, so I altered the request quite a bit to write this!! I honestly was having so many issues writing the request as it was (I made Damian seem like a creep and had to scrap that and start over). So I owe credit to @thearkhamnedknight for helping me come up with this concept! I couldn’t have done this without her help!! I hope you’re happy with the changes anonymous requester! I’m pretty happy with the ending myself!

It was the loud boom that brought you out of the book you had almost finished. It was followed by screaming. That drew your undivided attention out the cafe window. Outside, you saw a huge tank-like vehicle running over cars. From its half white half purple paint job, you already knew it was Two-Face. As if to confirm your suspicions, the crazed ex-attorney stood up through some kind of sunroof, gun blazing as he fired off at the crowd. You stared on with wide eyed fear as he laughed maniacally.

You were about to duck under the table when you spotted the little white blur. It was a small kitten, darting through the street to find a place to hide. You watched it run beneath a parked vehicle on the curbside, not knowing it was in the direct path of danger. Your courage surged up and the urge to hide yourself was replaced by the need to save the innocent creature.

You kept your eyes on the scared kitten hunkering beneath the car as you walked through the cafe towards the glass door. You spared a glance towards the psychopath with a gun. He was luckily already occupied with the arrival of Batman and Robin. You dashed out of the building and headed straight to vehicle that was no more than 30 feet from the cafe exit. As soon as you got to it, you crouched down next to the passenger door and felt a new wave of fear as you realized how close all of the action was.

You ducked down and looked at the petrified kitten under the car. It meowed at you as it shook in its fur. You reached out slowly. It backed away a step, just out of your reach.

“Come here, kitty, kitty,” you called quietly, trying to sound soothing, but your voice was shaky. “Come here, little kitty,” you called again. It stared at you with big, green eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you,” you cooed as you left your hand still and open. Just as it started to step closer to sniff your fingers, a blast sounded from the opposite of the car. The cat spooked and took off like lightening towards you. Before it could escape into more danger, you snatched it up. It clawed you madly before it realized you weren’t trying to hurt it.

“There, there,” you cooed. You started to stand to run back into the cafe, to relative safety, until you heard the click of a gun behind you. You turned to see the barrel of an assault rifle only inches from your head. Your heart stopped and your arms tightened around the warm fluff, concealing it. Your gaze followed the barrel up to the face of the goon aiming it at you. Time seemed to move in slow motion.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You tried to prepare yourself for what would be a fatal shot. You could only hope it wouldn’t hurt. But instead of the deafening sound of a gunshot, you heard a thud and a groan. When your eyes opened, you saw Robin standing on top of the gunman. Your eyes widened and you felt relief flood your body.

“What are you doing?” he demanded angrily. You were still in shock at the situation, so you simply moved your left arm to reveal the white kitten you were cradling in your right arm. His features softened for a moment, before gunfire rained down from the main fight only a few feet away now. He ducked behind the vehicle, incredibly close to you. His arm wrap around your back and he pulled you into his chest firmly.

“Hold on,” he warned. You used your free arm to cling to him as suddenly you were lifted off the ground and before you could blink, set on a rooftop. The bullets sprayed the building as the shooters tried to follow, but Robin pushed you down on the flat top, out of view. He crouched next to you, visually confirming that you weren’t injured.

“Stay here,” he ordered before leaping over the ledge and rejoining the fight. You obeyed and looked down at the white fluffy kitten. It was filthy, obviously a stray that was likely born in an alleyway near by. You smiled softly as it looked up at you with its large green eyes and meowed. It nudged its head under your hand and purred. You felt relaxed as you pet it gently.

“Well, it looks like we’re in this together now, huh?” you chuckled as you scratched the scrappy kitten’s little ear. As if it understood you, it answered with a meow and settled comfortably into your lap. It was at that time, you realized that the gunshots had finally stopped. You decided to take a risk and peek over the short wall that guarded you from the edge of the roof. First responders were everywhere. Reporters were beginning to appear to interview any witnesses.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed, you know?” Robin spoke up from behind you. You turned and smiled at him.

“I wasn’t too worried about it,” you grinned. “I saved a life today, too,” you added as you presented the scruffy kitten. It meowed at him.

“What are we going to do with another pet, beloved?” he sighed as he pulled you to your feet and led you away from the crime scene.

“Alfred needed another cat friend,” you shrugged. “Plus, this little one has nowhere else to go,” you nudged him with your shoulder.

“He is quite cute,” he admitted and took the scrap of fur from your hands. The kitten began purring immediately and Damian smiled softly. “What should we name him?” he asked.

“Well, I haven’t decided yet,” you stopped and pulled your boyfriend into an embrace. He hugged you back with one arm, the kitten smushed in the middle in his other arm.

“I’m sorry I missed our coffee date, (Y/n)” he whispered into your hair. You looked up at him.

“I’m sorry my favorite coffee shop has been shot up for the third time before you’ve gotten to try it,” you offered with your odd sense of humor. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’ll get there before it ends up out of business,” he promised. You leaned against him, taking pleasure in the warmth that emanated from him.

“I’ll see you at home, Robin,” you told him, slipping the baby feline out of his clutches. He kissed your forehead lovingly.

“Don’t wait up, it’s looking like a long night,” he answered. You just smiled.

“I’ll keep the first aid kit ready,” you stated before climbing down the fire escape. Damian waited until your feet hit the asphalt before he grappled off to join his father. You could barely see Bruce standing a few rooftops away waiting. You gave him a quick wave before you decided to head back to the townhouse you and Damian had made home for the last year

A/N: I really hope you like it! What would you name the kitten? 

little things about simon lewis

- he has a crush on EVERYONE (clary, maia, jace, raphael, izzy…. basically everyone)
- hes too nervous to tell any of them
- he likes to wear cool patterned socks on days he needs to be confident
- he was wearing one plain black sock and one argyle brown sock on the day he got bit, he blames the socks
- clary used to always hold his hand and be really affectionate because she thought he was gay
- he is actually pan (fight me on this)
- hes the kinda person who wont just listen to music, but do an entire sit down dance show to do and mime the words. but when he actually performs his own music, hes super shy and hides behind his guitar
- he misses coffee, a lot
- when he was staying with the werewolves, he would have trouble sleeping during the day, so he’d watch natflix on his phne before realising the data bill was going straight to his mom
- he talks with his hands and has many times accidentally smacked himself in the fact while passionately explaining something

the kisses au

because there are so many types of kisses! have some affectionate widowtracer because i refuse to believe their relationship is purely sex and angst

  • lena oxton is a very affectionate person
  • she is all smiles and hugs and friendly hip-checks and cuddles and sharing space and, needless to say, widowmaker is not.
  • so when they start this… thing
  • widow is not prepared for what comes next
  • she wakes in the morning covered in ten blankets and a snoozing lena oxton, surrounded by a mess of pillows and teddy bears and textbooks on theoretical physics, and it is warm and the sunlight was made for basking in, and she jolts a little in surprise
  • her talon bunker is cold and dark and decorated with one purple gouge across the blank white walls and the cot is stiff and poky and she has nothing but nightmares
  • lena stirs at her movement, grumbles sleepily. widow freezes, unsure of the protocol. does she… touch her? move? does she stay there? oh god what should she do?
  • she settles for tentatively touching lena’s hair. it’s soft, fluffy, perpetually messy, and she pats her head with cold hands.
  • ‘lo,’ lena murmurs, throat creaking a little, and widow blinks, snatching her hand back.
  • ‘good morning,’ she says, a touch stiffly. lena doesn’t seem to notice, tipping her head slightly and shifting closer, burrowing her head into widow’s neck and pressing a kiss to her jaw. the whole motion is easy and careless and widow can’t help but smile.
  • lena whispers something groggily against her throat, and she frowns in confusion.
  • ‘quoi?’
  • lena lifts her head for a moment. ‘said you look cute.’
  • ‘cute?’
  • ‘ya know, mornings. hair down. ‘s cute.’
  • ‘so do you.’
  • ‘mm. thanks.’ 
  • she’s waking up slowly, sitting up, bending over amelie to blindly kiss her face, opening her eyes, the soft brown gentle in the rising sun, her nose bumping clumsily against amelie’s icy cheek.
  • ‘there’s a diner here somewhere,’ she mumbles between kisses, aiming for amelie’s nose and missing spectacularly. ‘you into coffee?’
  • ‘café au lait,’ is amelie’s response, and lena snorts, snuggling into her shoulder.
  • ‘you and your prissy french coffee.’
  • amelie sticks her tongue out at her and lena pouts exaggeratedly, spread-eagling herself over widow and clinging.
  • ‘get off,’ amelie says, without meaning it. lena just smiles at her knowingly, and clings tighter, dotting kisses over amelie’s collarbones and humming some pop song.
  • ‘i want food,’ amelie says abruptly and decisively, and clambers off the bed with lena still attached to her. ‘shoes on. am i carrying you there?’
  • ‘yeah,’ lena mumbles, and then blinks. ‘wait, are we going naked?’
  • ‘no,’ amelie says, rolling her eyes fondly, ‘put your clothes on.’
  • lena sings as she straps the accelerator to her chest and slings a leather jacket around her shoulders, dances up behind widow and spins her around and presses the spiderbites into her ear and widow snorts when she makes a pun, eyebrows waggling
  • they walk to the nearest cafe and lena buys four pastries and feeds amelie pieces of an apple turnover as she talks about a recent prototype of the plane that she and winston are developing and widow hums and listens and feels the soft brush of lena’s fingers against her lips and the way they skim over her jaw and down her arm to her hands, and then lena gets momentarily distracted in favour of kissing each of amelie’s fingertips
  • and amelie tells her about sombra’s embarrassing moments, hands dancing in the air (she’s wonderfully expressive when she wants to be), smiles a little when lena laughs so hard she almost snorts coffee out her nose
  • they’re the best mornings amelie’s had in a while.
  • late nights are good, too
  • they curl up on the couch, and amelie wears lena’s fuzzy koala socks, and they watch old movies and lena squishes in next to her so close that amelie can smell the faint traces of the lemon soap she uses (and amelie steals on a regular basis) and she wraps her arms loosely around lena’s midsection and lena hums and traces her tattoos and pecks kisses on her wrists
  • and sometimes, every so often, lena comes home to amelie sitting on the floor with a bottle of wine and hard eyes and lena talks her down with quiet words and soft desperate ‘i am here’ kisses and amelie cries and tangles her hands in lena’s hair and they sit together on lena’s kitchen floor and amelie mumbles about needles and gerard and monsters
  • at nights, they lie together, lena’s arms tight around amelie’s shoulders, quiet words of affection. lena learns a bit of frankly horrid french and takes a certain amount of delight in sneaking up behind amelie and whispering, ‘je t’aime’ into her ear
  • and her accent’s bad and the tones are wrong and she doesn’t quite say it like people in france
  • but it seems much more right than anything amelie’s ever heard
Sick Teacher Lance (Klance Sickfic)

Prompt: inspired by a post by @toosicktoocare (I hope you’ll forgive me for using it!)

And I also threw in my OCs Jasper, Joan & Eric (my new OC sideblog is @signsickocs )!

“Lance.” Lance whined and buried his face further into the warm chest, a small amount of drool escaping his open mouth.

“Lance.” Hands patted his bare upper arm and he unconsciously swatted at the limbs that were impeding on his sleep. The body chuckled and flicked his forehead lightly. “Time to get up, come on. I’m pretty sure Jasper will cry if you don’t show up.”

Lance opened his eyes blearily, taking in the broad, bare chest of his boyfriend and winced as the light from the window hit his sensitive eyes. “Keith, why the hell did you open the blinds?” He whacked his chest, face scrunching up in faux pain, although his head really did hurt a little.

“You wouldn’t wake up. I figured if you opened your eyes you would be blinded and then stay awake.” Keith ruffled his hair softly, fingers taking out the minor knots with gentle tact.

Lance moaned slightly at his ministrations and sat up, head spinning at the sudden movement. “That’s it. I want a divorce.”

The dark hair of Keith met him, a smile flashing on his face. “You can’t. I know too much. Like the fact that you fact that you drool when you sleep.” Lance whacked him upside the heat not unkindly, hand coming up to wipe the drool around his mouth self-consciously. “And the fact that you have a hair kink. I’m sure our students would love to know that.”

Grabbing a pillow, Lance hit Keith and turned is face away so that Keith wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing him turn crimson. “I do not and you better not.”

“I’m sure they’d also love to know how much I love you, how I love holding your hand and kissing you.” Keith former jesting tone had taken a serious turn, and he planted a small kiss on Lance’s forehead, grabbing his hand and placing another chaste on it. He looked down at him, eyes like a mirror to his emotions. “I mean that, Lance.”

Lance nodded and kissed Keith’s lips, a small smirk forming on his face. “Well, I could reveal that their ‘utterly terrifying’ math teacher is actually a cheese ball and whines about the amount of homework he has to correct.”

At that Keith turned an unnatural shade of red. “You better not. Those brats are too annoying for their own good.” He groaned. “They keep asking if I’m single.”

“Popular with the girls, eh?” Lance nudged him, winking outrageously.

“Guys. Girls and guys.”

Lance’s utterly unacceptable eyebrow wiggling earned him a place on the hard, wood floor.

Later on that morning saw Lance and Keith exiting the teachers’ lounge room, books under their arms. They walked a little apart, although Keith was having a hard time not holding Lance’s lonely hand. Teachers dating was not frowned upon, but they were expected to carry themselves properly and act like responsible adults.

Keith was a little annoyed about that. Kissing wasn’t exactly the same as doing the do in the janitor’s closet, was it? Either way, he was a little grateful about that at the same time, for his students would not stop teasing him if they ever found out he was dating the ‘hot’ history teacher.

Just as they were about to part ways, Lance looked at the empty corridor and placed a loving kiss on Keith’s cheek, trying not to totter as he did so. His head was hurting a little. He murmured a soft “I love you” and ran a hand through Keith’s hair with a soft smile. “I’ll see you at break.”

“Love you too, babe.”

“Yeah, don’t divorce me, babe, I know all your worst secrets.” He formed a smile on his face, trying his best not to grimace at the headache he had.

Keith chuckled and with the arrival of a set of students, they parted ways. Lance dropped the act, and sighed a wearied sigh. He ran a hand over his face and shook his head, hoping the drum beat in his head would lessen. He shoulders slumped a little as he entered his classroom.

No one was there as the bell had not rung yet, save one person. The familiar form of a freshman that Lance enjoyed teaching for the fact that he tried and quietly listened to him, unlike many rowdy fourteen year olds, greeted his eyes.

He righted himself and smiled as he neared his desk, where the boy stood. “Jasper. I don’t think I have you for class until second period?”

The boy was like an open book and stuttered a little, pink dotting his cheeks. “I know. I j-just wanted to hand in my essay. Sir.” He placed a sheaf of paper before him on the desk, held together by a bright green staple.

“It’s not due until next Friday, though.” Lance was trying hard not to sound accusatory, but the bright light overhead and the constant heartbeat in his head was making him feel tired. He rubbed at his temple with his fingers. “And I told you, it’s Lance. Sir makes me feel old.”

“All right… Lance.” He rubbed his caramel-coloured locks at the base of his neck nervously. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

“Did I look like I was doing anything, Jasper?” He smiled genially toward the boy, though his eyes hurt when he moved them. They ached in fact. “I’ll correct it as soon as I can.” He rubbed at his eyes delicately, unaware that Jasper was looking a little worried.

“Are you feeling all right, Si-Lance?”

“Peachy. Just have something in my eyes. Now, get off to class before Miss Holt has the chance to find a reason to suspend you.”

Like a scared rabbit, Jasper’s baby blue eyes widened and he scurried off to Biology, because Lord knows, she was terrifying. He yelled a prepubescent “thank you” as he left, which made Lance crack up and immediately regret it when it jolted his now aching limbs.

Great. He was probably coming down with something. He hated getting sick and he always seemed to catch the worst ones too. He hoped that he would at least be able to make it through the day. Also not let Keith know. Keith was a nagger and would not cease until Lance was lying in bed. It wasn’t even that bad. Probably just a mild fever.

Throughout first period, Lance could feel himself feeling decreasingly worse. His limbs ached and he felt so tired. He sat in his chair as much as he could, even though he usually loved standing up and speaking loudly about historical figures. Even his juniors seemed a little confused.

Once, when a student had put up their hand, he had snapped at them, snapped at them even though they had done nothing wrong. He had apologised and gave the excuse that he had missed his coffee this morning which prompted a number of sympathising students.

At break, he felt so tempted to go all ‘Mean Girls’ and eat in a bathroom stall alone, just to avoid Keith’s observant gaze. Then he realised that he really had nothing to hide and laughed at his foolishness. It was just a little fever.

He sat down by Keith, thighs touching and smiled through the pain of moving. “How was class?” Opening his lunch box, he messed with his food but didn’t have the will to eat.

Keith groaned dramatically. “Please don’t tell me I was annoying and loud in sophomore year.”

Lance looked away and earned a thwack on his forearm. “I couldn’t say.” He answered mysteriously, suddenly feeling very cold as he tugged his shirt tighter around him.

“Hey!”

Lance could do this, Lance could do this.

Walking into his classroom again, he looked at all the eager and not-so-eager expressions of his freshman students. Jasper was sitting by the window, talking quietly to a boy with dark hair — he could barely remember any faces through the fog.

Lance couldn’t do this. He couldn’t.

Everything felt like it was going in slow motion. His limbs felt like they were weighed down with lead and his joints ached, ached bone deep and he felt so tired. Moving hurt. It hurt to move. Even moving his eyes around was proving to be painful and has came to the conclusion that he was sicker than he originally thought.

At one moment he felt warm and another moment he felt cold. He wasn’t sure if he was sweating, though it certainly felt like it. His head had started up a new beat and moving too fast made him feel dizzy, lost, off balance.

After calling the roll, he glared daggers at a girl who was whispering to the person behind her. He crossed his arms and waited patiently for her to finish. He opened his mouth to speak. “Joan, are you finished?” She flushed and nodded jerkily.

He turned to the board only to see his vision go blurry and he stumbled, a hand gripping his desk tightly as he tried not to keel over. There was a rushing sound in his ears and he could hear the scrape of a chair on floor. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, hoping that the fog would clear, but it didn’t.

A hand rested on his shoulder hesitantly and he could hear Jasper speaking, but could not understand his words. Everything was muddled and it may as well have been a foreign language. Everything was loud and it was too warm and it felt like he was being heated up in an oven. A hand was patting his cheek and everything was too close and too warm and-

Tripping over his feet, he made a mad dash to the door of his classroom, and it took him a few tries, but he managed to open it. He headed towards the bathroom, head spinning and vision swirling, leaving behind a very confused (though mostly concerned) class behind.

Jasper looked around at the other students and he spoke up nervously, his voice breaking through the stunned silence. “S-Should I get the nurse?”

Joan looked at him in mild amusement. “We should get Mr. Kogane.”

Jasper looked a little confused, and tilted his head to the side, almost akin to that of a lost duck. “Why?”

The class snickered and Jasper’s cheeks heated up, though Joan remained patient. “Because he’s dating our history teacher.” She took in his expression. “I thought it was obvious.”

Jasper still looked confused, but set his gaze determinedly ahead of him. “I’ll go get him then.” He took confidant strides until he was out the door and then sagged against it, heart beating quickly.

Sir-Lance just had to date the most terrifying teacher in the school didn’t he? He made up a cheer for himself and walked hurriedly to Mr. Kogane’s room, worried about his teacher and worried that a teacher would find him out of class without a pass.

Keith was having a wonderful day, simply splendid, in fact. If that counted as having nothing but rowdy classes and a number of immature and nosy students who just didn’t get the memo to shut the hell up, then yeah. It was a terrific day.

Lance had been pretty quiet during break and that worried him. He was usually so loud and boisterous. His brow furrowed subconsciously. Maybe he knew that Keith would appreciate peace and minimal noise. The thought made him smile. Lance could be really cute and caring sometimes.

His thoughts were interrupted by a student in the front row. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, sir?”

Keith scowled a particularly nasty scowl and tried to calm down his flaring temper. “Nothing that is any of your business, Eric.”

The class oohed and Keith tried to remind himself that he was a teacher. If he had been a kid he would have thrown him a punch, but he was the adult here. It seemed that the class weren’t done tormenting him, for another question came soon after.

One girl in the back piped up. “Are you thinking about your boyfriend, sir?”

Keith looked blankly at her, features giving nothing away. He crossed his arms. “I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend.”

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Whatever you say.” Her tongue piercing glinted in the sun and Keith shuddered. Kids these days

Just then, there were a few hurried knocks at the door and even though he said “come in” the raps continued. Huffing, he stood up and walked over to open the door. Lord knows what Shiro wanted of him now. Sure he was the principal of this highschool, but he ran it like a military academy sometimes.

Instead, he opened the door to find a quivering and small freshman student he recognised as Jasper waiting on the other side. He looked frightened and Keith tried to look somewhat less stern. His hand had been interrupted mid-knock and he hastily put it down, cheeks flushing.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” Keith frowned again. Lance taught him at this time.

Then Jasper blurted out, “Sir, Mr. Kogane, I was told to get you because Si-I mean Lance ran out of our classroom all dizzy and stuff and I think he’s sick!” He stared at the ground sheepishly, hand coming to rub at the back of his neck.

Keith stood stock still, heart picking up pace. He could scarcely compute the kid’s words. Lance sick? He shook his head. No, it must be some mistake. Then he stiffened. Lance had been really quiet at break, unnaturally so. Then it all seemed to make sense.

Unbeknownst to Keith, his class of juniors were extremely interested in the current discussion and craned their necks to hear what was going on. Eric smirked and his classmates took note of their teacher’s tense body posture. No boyfriend, eh? They had just been shown the evidence.

Without a word he ran past Jasper and left behind a satisfied classroom and one very petrified freshman who looked owlishly at the juniors. Eric, taking into account how small and scared he looked and with a gentleness that surprised even himself, offered to get him back to class.

The corridors seemed to be never ending and it took everything Lance had not to give up and collapse on the floor. Everything was so warm, his head drumming unpleasantly and stomach churning. It hurt to think and once his vision went haywire, so much so that he couldn’t see where he was going.

Upon reaching the teacher’s bathrooms, he entered the men’s and launched himself towards the sink area. Gripping the faux marble countertop, he swayed and almost felt the need to throw up, but managed to contain it — for now.

Clumsily gripping a tap, he twisted it, little strength available to him and feeling too dizzy to control it. Once water came out, cool and fresh, he shakily sloshed some on his face and reached around blindly for a towel. Water had managed to get onto his clothes and trickle down his neck, but he was beyond caring.

He whined when the search for the towel caused an ache to form in his stomach and it gurgled uncomfortably. Finally dropping to the floor, he buried his pounding head in his knees and wrapped his shaking arms around his waist.

He wanted Keith.

Keith had been running around like a madman, trying his utter best to find his missing boyfriend. A heavy feeling of dread filled his lungs and he almost felt like he was choking. His boyfriend was sick and he had had a student tell him that. He had noticed how strange his boyfriend had been acting, but he hasn’t asked.

He ran a hand through his dark hair and bit the inside of his cheeks, face a mask of worry and almost a sense of terror. His eyes darted around and hr tried to think. Where would Lance go? His dull eyes brightened and he looked up from his wallowing. He knew where.

When he had opened the bathroom door, he had expected to see Lance passed out, dead and anything in between that. What he didn’t expect was to find him curled up in a ball on the tiles, the tap still running.

Lance didn’t notice he had arrived at first, but eventually he raised his head and Keith met with droopy, feverish eyes and flushed cheeks. Lance was pale and he shuddered, as if he were cold. Hair was plastered to his forehead and his mouth was dry and chapped.

“Keith?” He looked confused, but then his expression brightened and even when sick like this, Keith couldn’t help but think he was cute.

Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Keith eased him up gently only to find himself being shoved away. Lance threw up in the sink, the little breakfast he had being the only thing to come up.

He couldn’t seem to stop and the retching continued, Keith patting his back and brushing his hair away from his sweaty forehead. He hacked until his throat was raw and felt like it had been cleaned by sandpaper. Tears sprang into his eyes and a sob escaped him when Keith washed his face clean, feeling so pathetic and utterly miserable.

The support of the sink no longer there, Lance would have fallen if Keith had not caught him. He caught him gently about the waist and they slowly sank down to the floor together, until he was practically sitting on his lap. His back was to Keith’s chest and the tears would not stop.

Keith wiped away every tear, hushing and murmuring kind words in his ears. He rubbed his hands up and down Lance’s arms as he shivered and took in the heat emanating from his body with growing concern. The sobs made him convulse and he shook, body wracked with the force of them.

After a while, he began to hiccup and the tears gradually ceased. Lance wearily sank against Keith, body spent with his ordeal. Keith pressed his cheek to Lance’s and embraced him.

“Let’s get you home, Lance.”

Keith carried Lance outside to their car bridal style, unaware of the noses pressed to the windows of his classroom or of the clicking of cameras.

In the car, Keith strapped him in, careful not to jostle him too much and pushed his hair back off his forehead. Lance nuzzled against his cold hands and smiled, eyes looking at him dreamily, though rimmed red from crying.

“I love you.”

Keith chuckled and slammed the door behind him. Once he was in his seat, he turned to him and said, “I love you too.” Lance leant his head against the window pane, completely satisfied and content and almost forgot for a moment that he was sick.

Once back at their apartment, Keith helped Lance inside and brought him to the couch, where he could see him and do things at the same time. As if he were a child, he dressed Lance in pajamas and pressed a kiss to his damp hair.

“Wait and I’ll get you some medicine and water.” He entered the kitchen and Lance watched him for a while, head lying on the armrest.

Then he spoke up, voice cracked and grating to the ears. “Then can we watch something. Together, I mean.”

Keith smiled and looked over, his face brighter than anything else in the world. “Anything for you.”

Lance stuck out his tongue in disgust. “You’re sickening.”

“Pretty sure you’re the one that has the sickness here and the actual power to make me catch it.”

Keith was soon back and Lance downed the two pills. He felt a little better, the pounding having muted. Keith knew he was feeling better enough to give him a snarky answer.

Lance cuddled up next to Keith, head resting on his chest tiredly. He turned over and pecked his cheek gently, face apologetic. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

Keith looked down at Lance, face so beautiful even in this state and leant his cheek on his sandy locks, turning slightly to press another kiss to his head. “Just don’t do it again. I think Jasper died.”

“He’ll live.”

“Whatever you say, darling.”

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what?”

“Divorce me. I know all your secrets, Keith Kogane.”

“I wasn’t the one crying in the bathroom after throwing up in the sink.”

“… Good point.”

“I can’t divorced you anyway.”

“Why not?”

“Because I love you too much.”

“So do I, angel.”

Rumors

Originally posted by jengkook

Word count: 1820

Warnings: ANGST

Author’s note: I feel like I got a lot to say right now. Sorry about that in advance.

First of all this scenario is inspired by K.A.R.D.’s “Rumor”. At first I didn’t liked that song but I started liking it eventually. And damn this photoshoot gets me everytime. Also I don’t have the feeling I wrote a good Jimin story yet so I hope this will be poppin.

Second thing: I guess you noticed that I am repeating the members now. I mostly pick who I think would fit the role but there hasn’t really been any request regarding a certain group/member. Just to let you know that I am open for any suggestion! If not then I am willing to continue my own comeups ;)

For the third and last thing I just reached 400 followers!! ♥♥♥ For that I wanted to welcome every new companion and of course thank you all :D It is overwhelming to me how this blog grew out of nothing :) I will continue as long as you guys like me to ;) But now we will get going!

Check out my masterlist ;)

Most recent release: Second chances


rumor

/ˈrumər/

Definitions: noun; A currently circulating story or report of uncertain or doubtful truth usually spread by word of mouth.

Keep reading

Almost

Originally posted by btshyungnet

Namjoon x Tattoo Artist!Reader

Disclaimer: Sorry if there’s any mistakes, its 1 a.m.

He walked under a ladder barely missing the paint bucket that fell off of it. Moments later, missed a coffee spill on his favorite shirt and let’s not forget about the almost stepping in dog crap. Today was his lucky day with his almost mishaps. He was now running on adrenaline from almosts. Feeling like he could take over the world. He walked with his chest puffed out and his head held high. With this new invincibility he decided to do something he’d never do on a regular basis. Get a tattoo. He walked down a couple streets until spotting a tattoo shop.

 Ding. 

Keep reading

Gone - Part 2

As soon as the words leave your mouth you can feel yourself start to panic, you feel everything start to close in, the sidewalk is too loud and strangers too close. You haven’t even realized that you had hit the SOS button on your watch until a car pulls up in front of you and Natasha steps out.

“Птица? What’s wrong?” She grabs your upper arms and locked eyes with you, “Breathe, Y/N, take deep breaths, inhale deeply, hold it, good, not exhale, slowly, breathe with me”

It took a few minutes but eventually you manage to calm down enough to get into the car. “Thank you for coming” you whisper.

You reach out and lay a hand on Tasha’s arm, needing some kind of contact to keep you grounded, to keep you from falling back into a panic.

“What happened back there?”

“I’d rather tell everyone at the same time, I don’t know if I can say it more than that” you murmur, curling up in the car seat.

In the years that you had been with Bucky you had become close to the other Avengers, becoming almost like a Den Mother to everyone else. You were the one who managed to help Steve and Bucky learn that there was nothing wrong with getting seconds, or even thirds. You were the one who dragged Tony and Bruce out of the labs to eat, sleep, and bathe. You loved making sure everyone was taken care of.

After about 30 minutes in New York traffic Tasha was pulling into Avenger’s Tower. Steve and Tony were already waiting in the garage for you two to get back. Steve and Tony each take one of your arms, giving you concerned glances when they see your red eyes. The two lead you up to the common room, where everyone else is waiting.

“I thought you were supposed to be eating lunch with Robocop this afternoon” Tiny said, sitting down next to you on the couch.

You flinch at Bucky’s nickname, “Yeah, we had lunch, and after we finished eating, he-he broke up with m-me, he said that he didn’t’ want to be with me anymore” suddenly the tears that you had been holding back since the café started pouring down your face.

Steve draws you into a tight hug, the super-soldier cradling you gently in his arms as he lets you sob into his shoulder.

“Hush now, doll, it’s alright. Bucky wouldn’t just do something like that, he has to have a reason” Steve whispers, rocking you gently.

You take a deep breath and attempt to stop crying, “That’s not even the worst part” you sniffle and wipe your eyes.

“What else happened?” Bruce asked, he crouched down in front of you, taking one of your hands in his. The others lean in, offering silent support.

You look down into your lap, unable to meet anyone’s eyes, “I’m pregnant, and Bucky’s the father”

After the initial shock, Bruce and Tony take you down to the lab to run a few tests of their own, confirming your pregnancy. After the tests were done you quietly told them that you hadn’t told Bucky about the baby. Everyone agreed to keep your secret, and Steve suggested, more like ordered, you to go to bed, claiming that the emotional trauma had taken its toll on you.

You wrap Steve in a quick hug, “Thank you”

He hugs you back, gently pulling away and holding you by your shoulders, “You know that if you want to keep this a secret you can’t stay in the tower”

Tony piped up from across the lab, “I have houses all over the world if you want to use one of those!”

You nod quietly, “Thank you, Tony, but do you mind if I take a little while to think? I’m gonna need to get all of my stuff from Bucky’s floor, but I don’t really think I can face him …”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call Thor, the two of us will move everything into the spare room on your floor while you get some sleep” Steve reassured, he gently rubbed your shoulders.

You smile and squeeze Steve’s hand and leave the cave. Tasha is sitting on your bed by the time you get up to your floor.

“Are you going to leave the Avenger’s once the baby comes?” She asked, watching as you start to get ready for bed.

You lean over and press a kiss to Tasha’s forehead, “And leave you with all of these boys?! Never! You’re my family, Tasha, everyone here is. I’d never leave you, as long as you don’t mind me being here with a baby …”

Tasha gave you a small smile, “Only as long as you let me babysit the little one, I supposed I can allow you to stay”

“I’ll need your help protecting the baby. Bucky and I both have the serum in us, so I don’t know if that will affect the baby. Whether is does or not, this child will have a target on its back. I can’t protect him on my own”

“Him?”

You smirk, “Just a feeling I have”

Natasha crouches down so she is eye level with your stomach, “I will be the best aunt possible to you, little bird. No one will ever hurt you.”

You can feel tears well up in your eyes, and you pull Natasha into a hug, “Thanks, Tasha”

“I’ll oversee the moving of your things, make sure no one breaks anything and don’t leave anything behind. Sleep now”

“Goodnight, Tasha” Once she leave you lay down and pull up your shirt, “You are going to be the most loved and well protected baby in the whole world. Your Uncles and Aunt will make sure that you want for nothing.”

By the time you wake up the next day, it’s almost time for lunch. You stumble out to the kitchen to find Steve, Clint, and Natasha already there. You inhale the delicious scent of coffee.

“I can’t have coffee anymore” you moan, plopping down at the dining room table.

“No, caffeine is bad for pregnant women. I was doing to research last night. A lot of people said that citrus tea is a good substitute, so JARVIS ordered some last night”

“Thanks, Stevie” you mumble, taking the cup, “I’m really gonna miss coffee”

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll drink your coffee for you” Clint chuckles, taking a huge sip of sugared up coffee.

“Thanks, Clint, I really appreciate that” you say dryly, giving Clint an unimpressed look. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Tony’s compiling a list of properties, Bruce is looking into doctors for you and the baby, Sam had to work, Phil was called into SHIELD late last night, Bucky still hasn’t come back to the tower, and I don’t know where Wanda and Vision are”

You nod quietly and start talking to the other about what you plan to do about hiding your pregnancy. By the end of your conversation you’ve decided what you’re going to do.

Everyone gathers in the common room a few hours later, around lunch, even Thor is there. As soon as he sees you, Thor rushes forward, pulling you into a tight bear hug. Natasha is quick to follow, snapping at Thor, “Be careful! You might hurt the baby”

Thor lets out a booming laugh but set you gently on your feet, “Congratulations on your pregnancy, Little Bird. I am saddened to hear that James does not share your enthusiasm”

“He doesn’t know about the baby, Thor, and I want to keep it that way. He didn’t want to be with me, and I won’t tie him to me with a baby”

Thor nods solemnly, “Of course”

Natasha levels serious eyes on you, “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

You nod, “Yeah, if Tony doesn’t mind” you pause, shifting from one foot to the other, “I’d like to live in one of your houses in Europe. Bucky wouldn’t expect me to leave the country, so that’s exactly what I want to do”

Tony nods, waving his hand, “Of course! You can use as many houses as you want. You can take one of my quinjets, and one of the suits with you”

Natasha marches over until she stands in front of Phil, who’s been quiet so far, with he hands on her hips. “Y/N will need protection, I will be going with her. This pregnancy has never been recorded, there might be complications, and I do not want her to be alone”

Thor’s booming laugh echoes around the room, “Son of Coul would not dare earn your scorn, Lady Natasha! I would also like to accompany Y/N on her journey.”

You give Thor a shove, note even moving him, “I don’t want to leave the Avengers without back-up. What if something happens!?”

“I can be anywhere on Midgard within moments, and Natasha will not take no for an answer. It would be best to allow her to accompany you”

Steve steps forward, throwing his arm across your shoulder, “Don’t worry about us. Sam and Rhodey agreed to move into the tower while you and Tasha are away. If anything happens JARVIS will be able to let you know”

Indeed, Ms. Y/N. All of Sir’s properties are equipped to support my technology

“Thanks JARVIS, that actually makes me feel a lot better.”

“Will you be returning to the tower after the baby is born? And will you be rejoining the Avengers?” Phil asks.

“I’d like to come back, and I’d like to still be an Avenger. I understand if you would rather I not live here though. I won’t be easy raising a child …”

“A babe is a most precious gift, something to be treasured and loved” Thor murmurs

Tony rolls his eyes, “I would be upset if you didn’t come back! How an I going to prove that I’m a better Uncle than Bird Brain over there, if you don’t come back?!”

Clint snorts, “No way in hell will you be a better uncle”

“Neither of you will be the favorite, that will obviously be me!” Steve calls out as he walks into the kitchen, “I mean wat kid wouldn’t love to have Captain America as an uncle?!”

“You may be Captain America, Steven, however, I am a god!” Thor shouts

Lunch dissolves into everyone shouting why they would be a better uncle. Natasha sits next to you and smirks, already knowing that she’s going to be the coolest out of everyone

Two days later you are waving at everyone as the ramp of the quinjet. You flop into the seat, Thor is across from you, and Tasha is ready to fly the jet.

“Last chance guys, once we take off you’re stuck with me for the next 9 months”

“My comrade may have abandoned you, Y/N, but I intend to stay with you until the child is born, and then after”

“I as well do not wish to leave you in such a delicate state” Thor reached across the aisle and placed a hand on your knee, “Do not doubt your worth to us, Little Bird. We will not leave you unprotected, ever”

You give Thor a soft smile, and a quiet “Thank you”

Turning you look out the window and watch as Avengers tower gets smaller and smaller on the horizon. Soon enough it’s gone, just like you.

—————

Part 3

anonymous asked:

what are some things that make you happy?

sunflowers, the sound of a full house, skyping with people i miss, getting coffee with my sister, swinging at the park near my house, going to super markets, the end of family weddings when everyone’s tired and we all head back to a central house to hang out for the rest of the night and we talk about how things used to be and we look at old pictures and we take new ones, and poetry, and seeing people who are from where i’m from and finally feeling understood, and love, and love, and love!! and the promise of someday love that isn’t love yet but will be soon

Umbrella Thief (Lin/Reader)

this is sucky i’m so sorry (the way i wrote Lin is awful and i didn’t check it through so)

Length: 1,503 words

Warnings: None

Prompt: You and Lin have a mix up of posessions

Note: thanks to @buckybarneshairpullingkink for this idea <3

reviews give me life and motivation <3


un.

The dismal weather that day did nothing to improve your mood.

You’d been a whirlwind of hidden aggression this that morning when you’d stubbornly refused to acknowledge your alarm clock. You’d missed your bus, spilt coffee down yourself and, just when you thought that series of particularly cliché events couldn’t get any worse, your boss had chosen that particular moment to tell you how you’d be denied the promotion you so desperately needed.

You didn’t expect your day to get much worse.

After work, and despite the onslaught of rain, the small café across the street called you. It was a warm comfort from your walk in the rain, the chatter enveloping you, the acoustic music and sweet scent of coffee luring you in.

You shook a few droplets of rain from your sodden coat and green umbrella, stamping your feet in an effort to get the warmth to return to your toes. You put your umbrella in the stand, paying it no mind as you shed your coat and found yourself a nice window seat.

The café was mostly empty, meaning the service was quick and the laughter mild. You sighed contentedly the moment you were presented with a steaming coffee, the warmth seeping from the ceramic mug into your numb fingers.

You were happy to be by yourself for a few moments, the anger of today leaving you. You closed your eyes pleasantly, the moment of peace filling you—

—Only to be startled by someone walking into your chair. Your eyes flew open, and you almost spilt your coffee again. You looked up, the handsome man standing above you apologising profusely, cursing under his breath.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry—” His eyes widened as he noticed your coffee. “Shit. I didn’t make you spill any, did I? If I did I can repay it—”

“I didn’t spill anything,” you assured him hastily. “It’s fine, honestly. You just go, it’s fine.”

The stranger nodded, muttered his last apologies before making his way past you, almost knocking into the umbrella stand as he received his umbrella. You watched him go, your moment of peace now disturbed. It was useless trying to get it back.

You finished your coffee not long after, sweeping up your bag and leaving the café. The rain had not ceased yet, as you opened your umbrella, you noticed something off about it.

The handle was black.

Your umbrella had a finely carved handle of dark wood, not a black plastic one. You frowned. Perhaps there had been another green umbrella in the stand, and you’d simply picked up the wrong one.

You turned, going back into the café and peeking around. Your umbrella was nowhere to be seen.

Keep reading

Monochrome

Summary: Soulmate!AU, where a person sees color once they meet their soulmate. Y/N stumbles across Lin in a park.

Pairing: Lin x reader.

A/N: Wow, I’m really bad at summaries. Hopefully you guys enjoy it!


With your camera strapped around your neck, backpack slung over your shoulder, and layers of clothing to protect you from the icy chill of Chicago, you made your usual trek to the park near your apartment. It was a blessing that the temperature was in the double-digits since it was in the middle of December. You hoped that the creatures in the park were in the mood to come out and play – they were usually the main pieces in your photographs.

You pause at the crosswalk and scan the near-empty park. There were several people jogging, but other than that, it was peaceful. Every once and a while you saw a squirrel scamper across the field. You felt your hands tingle in anticipation of the photos you’d take today.

For someone who saw the world in monochrome, the idea of having a career as a photographer was bizarre.

But you were damn good at it. So good that some of your pieces were hung in the MOCA museum in Downtown Chicago.

You didn’t need to find the elusive soulmate that everyone spoke of. You didn’t need color in your life; you were perfectly comfortable with the black and white world that you’ve known since you were little.

You shake your head at your mental tirade and was thankful that the light to the crosswalk changed. You quickly walk over to the park and let out a sigh of contentment, the familiarity of the environment silencing your thoughts.

You take a few test shots, adjusting the settings to make sure that the lighting in your pictures were to your liking. You wander around the area, taking pictures of the landscape and the squirrels and ducks that were nice enough to stay still for you.

After a quick change of your camera lens, you begin to take random pictures of the people in the park.  The joggers didn’t seem to be happy about it, putting their head down or giving you a side-eye when they realized your camera was pointed at them. You took pictures of the couples that sat on benches, drinking their morning coffee and quietly chatting amongst themselves.

From the corner of your eye, you see a man dressed in a stylish long coat facing the fountain in the middle of the park. He had his phone next to his ear and a coffee cup in hand.

What was a city boy doing here?

You step back and bring your camera to your face, wanting to take a picture of the stark contrast of his frame against the rural environment.

The minute you take the picture he turns.

It all happened so fast.

Your world, once quiet and calm, was now loud.

You drop your camera, stunned.

The grass, littered with leaves were beautiful shades of green, brown, orange, and red. The sky, with the sun peeking over the horizon, filling the world with hues of pink and orange, was breathtaking. You didn’t even know you were shaking until you brought a hand up to brush away the tear that slipped down your cheek.

Rushed footsteps snap you out of your daze and you felt your heart drop to your stomach when you see the man come towards you.

Oh shit.

Panic shot up your spine, and without a second thought, you knelt down to pick up your camera from the ground. You spun on your heels and began to briskly walk away.

“H-hey what are you… You’re not supposed to be running away!” the man yells.

You closed your eyes, still blurry from your tears, and willed your legs to move faster.

You weren’t ready for this.

“Wait! You can’t expect me to give up, not when I,” the man trails off, voice raspy and thick with an emotion that you were all too accustomed to: longing.

…Not when you’ve been waiting for me all your life.

You sniff, the fight leaving your body.

During high school, you were like every other teenage girl. Your mind made up scenarios of the day where you would meet your soulmate. Whether it be where the two of you would meet in a crowded train or in one of the quiet corners of the library, it always ended up with you and him kissing each other and having a happily ever after.

But it didn’t happen.

You kept the hope all throughout your college years. But during your senior year, where one by one, every single one of your friends found their soulmate, your hope began to dwindle.

You’ve made your peace with the idea that you were not going to find your soulmate, but now with him standing right behind you, it’s more than you could take.

You stop walking.

He stops and after a moment of hesitation, maneuvers himself so he stands in front of you.

“My name is Lin.”

You stare at him, your soulmate! – your mind screams – and your hands began to tingle with the sudden need to take a picture of him. Large, twinkling brown eyes framed by impossibly long lashes, long hair pulled into a ponytail, a five o’clock shadow, and nose red from the winter chill…

He was perfect.

He shifts, “And you? What’s your name?”

“Y/N. My name is Y/N,” you reply.

“Y/N,” he repeats with a shaky voice, and your heart soars in response.

Lin shakes his head in amazement. “Who knew that I’d finally meet you once I decide to travel outside of New York City?”

Your perk up. “New York? You’re from New York?”

“If you mean the greatest place in the world, yes,” he grins.

You squint your eyes at him. “I think you’re mistaken. Chicago is the greatest place in the world.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “Touché,” he concedes, placing his hand on his heart.

A silence settles over the two of you.

You both laugh at the same time, both in amazement and wonder at how comfortable you were with each other.

You glance at his hands, phone tucked away and the coffee cup missing. He notices and sheepishly smiles.

“I accidentally dropped my cup when, you know, it happened,” he explains, gesturing to you.

You show him your camera, wincing when you finally took a chance to inspect it and saw a crack in the lens. “I dropped my camera,” you add, running a hand down the damage.

“So you’re artistic too,” he hums, making you feel tiny at his suddenly scrutinizing eyes.

“Too?”

Lin grins and brings out a worn notebook. “The main reason why I’m here is because of this,” he explains.

Your curiosity piques. “What is it?”

A gust of wind makes Lin shuffle. “Buy me coffee and I’ll tell you all about it,” he says.

“You owe me a camera lens.” You huff, crossing your arms across your chest.

He laughs merrily and you fight the impulse to smile.

“I know a coffee shop a couple blocks from here,” you say, “they make great lattes.”

He holds his hand out. “Well, shall we?”

You shyly slip your hand into his, your throat feeling tight. You share a look with him, relieved to see his eyes shining with unshed tears.

Years and years of waiting and feeling empty were now gone with his simple touch.

Lin gives your hand a soft squeeze.

You felt complete.

Your once monochrome world was no more and you were ready to experience it with Lin by your side.