#also what is up with everyone wanting to fuck eyebrows from spiral but not chris rock

[snickerdoodlles]

nor look be lost

​Phichit and Yuuri are lit nerds with a love for poetry that burns bright and deep. They attend lectures and poetry workshops with an enthusiasm that sweeps everyone off their feet, ringing laughter and shining eyes. Their favorite activity is poetry telephone, stifling their giggles as old latin poems gain Batman and heavy language becomes “ask thou booty ask thou fault.” They record all their favorites in a beat up notebook, doodle-coated cover and pen stained pages barely clinging onto the wire spiral, and never fail to bring it with them to their favorite cafe’s poetry nights.

Scattered among their many recreations of famous verse are also fortune cookie poems, created through the piles of fortune cookie slips they collect just for this. One of these is a bizarre fluke of a poem that’s almost profound and Phichit smirks at Yuuri, mischief twinkling in his eyes, and says, “betcha wouldn’t read this on stage”

Yuuri reads it on stage three minutes later

Amidst his audience, Viktor gasps as this beautiful soft boy with a shy smile and laughter in his eyes comes to the mike and recites the most ridiculous poem. But, as odd as it may be, Viktor is moved

(“Chris,” he says desperately, clutching his best friends shirt. “ChRIS.” “Yes Viktor?” Chris says smiling, eyebrows raised. Viktor fans himself. “I’m gay.” “You’ve always been gay” “I’m gayER”)

So Viktor, feeling gay and excited and absolutely terrified, approaches mr. Beautiful Poet at the end of the night. He’s run no less than twenty of the most romantic and moving poems he could think of off the top of his head by Chris, only to veto them immediately because nothing could grasp this feeling in his chest right. He ends up settling for a verse of his favorite romance poem, one he’s had memorized since he was twelve like the sap he is, to tell to Beautiful Poet and hopefully impress or sweep Beautiful Poet off his feet (he’s not picky which). Viktor approaches Beautiful Poet with his sweaty hands behind his back and heat in his cheeks and

completely messes up his favorite verse in his favorite poem he’s memorized since he was twelve

(“FUCK” thinks Viktor eloquently)

“eXcUSe mE?!” thinks Yuuri angrily. This gorgeous prick Did Not just mess up a poem by W.H. Auden, aka Yuuri’s favorite poet, much less one of Yuuri’s favorite poems. The fuck does Gorgeous Prick think he is? Is Gorgeous Prick making fun of Yuuri and his fortune cookie poem? Because that’s just Rude, this is ART

(“FUUUUCK” continues Viktor’s internal screaming, because he doesn’t want Beautiful Poet glaring at him but also he’s still gorgeous and Viktor can’t handle anything)

In his head, Yuuri rips Viktor to shreds about Respecting Art, What The Fuck Asshole in 0.2 seconds with the most amazing and skillfully crafted argument. Physically Yuuri glares at Viktor for a full minute, completely missing Viktor melting into a helpless gay mess underneath his stare, before he turns away with an offended huff and walks out with Phichit

(“What a prick,” Yuuri rants angrily to a sympathetic Phichit

“Im a MESS” wails Viktor into a laughing Chris’s shoulder)

The next week, both are back, eyes sharp as they scan the crowd for each other for entirely different reasons. Their eyes meet and a flurry of activity ensues;

Yuuri, thinking Gorgeous Prick is back to make fun of people, flips through his notebook for one that makes fun of people with no respect for the arts. Or at least piss off someone with Gorgeous Prick’s pretentiousness 

Viktor spends the next hour gathering his courage to approach Beautiful Poet. “How is he even this beautiful” whispers-hisses Viktor. “How can i apologize when I’m basking in such beauty?!” “you’re hopeless,” retorts Chris unhelpfully, phone out and recording for posterity

Viktor finally manages to shake his nerves shortly before Yuuri plans on going on stage. “Hi,” he says shyly with a smile. 

Yuuri glares with the fervor of a spurned lover

“Ah,” he says sheepishly. “I’m um, really sorry about last week. I’m. Uh. Really bad at remembering things. Even things by my favorite poet. I had actually wanted to thank you for your poem from last week, I loved it”

(“Fuck,” thinks Yuuri, feeling vaguely like the world had disappeared from beneath him. Pretty AND sweet AND likes poetry? f u c k)

“That was a poem made out of fortune cookies,” says Yuuri bluntly, distantly wishing he could swallow his foot so it could shut him up. “I’m not good at writing poetry”

“Wow! Amazing!”

(Viktor’s eyes are literally sparkling. “FUCK” thinks Yuuri louder)

“You delivered what should’ve been nonsensical babbling and made it into a work of art” says Viktor, as though he’s actually enchanted. Yuuri would tell him being so nice to make up for last weeks blunder is unnecessary but his hearts currently stuck in his throat.

“Are you reading one of your favorite poems tonight?” asks Viktor, staring deeply into Yuuri’s eyes.

Yuuri doesn’t recall nodding, but Viktor clasps his hands and beams at him. “Wow! Amazing! I can’t wait to hear it!”

“Uh,” says Yuuri finally. Before he can manage the next bit, Phichit swoops in, smiling sweetly.

“Yuuri, it’s your turn!” Phichit turns his sugar sweet smile on Viktor. “Listen closely to my son. You’re going to love his”

Right, thinks Yuuri. Phichit doesn’t know Gorgeous Prick is actually Sweet and Lovely. Nor can he actually hear Yuuri mentally screaming at him to not. They really need to work on their ability to read each other’s minds for these sorts of situations. By the time Yuuri’s finished thinking this, he’s under the spotlight with absolutely no words in his head and a book of nonsense in his hands and all he can think is how badly this will surely end. He sputters and flips through his notebook frantically for a new poem and picks the first one that doesn’t have fortune cookie dust nor Batman in it

This is a Mistake

Yuuri is distantly aware he’s reciting what is the cheesiest Love Poem. (Literally. There are no less than six cheese puns.)

(There’s little of Yuuri that’s not left cracked. He can feel his soul leaking out through the crevices. He doesn’t even want to know what Sweet and Lovely thinks of him now. Hopefully the world will swallow him before he must face Sweet and Lovely again. If. He doubts Sweet and Lovely can even look at him after this)

(“cHRiS” whisper-hisses Viktor, wrinkling Chris’s favorite button down beneath white knuckles. He hasn’t blinked once since Yuuri took the stage. “chris” whimpers Viktor, slumping onto Chris’s shoulder. “He likes cheesy romance poetry. Chris.” Chris holds back his snort and his pats Viktor’s thinning hair.)

Yuuri finishes and scrambles off stage, making a bee-line for the bathroom or the bar, he’s not sure which. Then he hears Sweet and Lovely’s voice through the mike

He turns and sees Sweet and Lovely holding the mike in one hand and holding back a grumpy but fond redhead with the other. And then, while staring him right in the eye, Sweet and Lovely recites........literally the sappiest love poem to Yuuri

(“I can’t believe you were able to do that with a straight face,” says Yuuri fondly, years later. “Nothing about me is straight,” says Viktor immediately. Yuuri gives him a flat look. “Scratch that. I can’t believe you recited the lines in the right order” “YUURIIIIIII”)

And so begins the tale of Yuuri and Viktor simultaneously wooing each other via Bad Poems. It becomes an official poetry night tradition. Or at least, Viktor tries to make it official, but the rest of the crowd is so sick of their shit they threaten to kick them both out if they ever read a bad poem again, upon which Yuuri asks Viktor if he’d like to recite Awful Poems to each other over coffee so smoothly that Viktor is halfway through “of course” before he realizes they’re going on a Date

After Viktor finishes swooning, poetry nights gain its first actual official tradition of “take a shot every time Viktor or Yuuri recite a poem about how much they love each other” (they all end up smashed)

#yuri on ice #yuuri katsuki #viktor nikiforov #viktuuri #victuuri #?? #cookie's writing #bad poetry au #hey xylo #stealing ur thing where i name a fic after a line in a wh auden poem lmao #i know you said you weren't planning on it but feel free to add if you wanna !! #okay wow im tired #its 1:30 am for when i scheduled this #whoops

[littlespoonevan]

omg i want someone to write isak and even meeting in s1 so badly!!! any chance you would consider it? i know you would do such an amazing job with it!!

anon said: I’m not saying that you should consider writing the fic about Isak going to the Bakka party BUT you should definitely consider writing the fic about Isak going to the Bakka party. Also: I love u ❤

adkjafh so these messages are based off a lil observation i had during my skam rewatch. (original post here) i hope you like it!!!!

*

The first thing Isak notices when he steps throughthe door of the party is that he doesn’t recognise anyone here.

Jonas had been morally against the idea of going toChris and William’s party – he can give whatever excuse he wants; Isak knows hestill wants to punch Chris’ face in every time he sees him – which leads tothem travelling a little further than normal into Bakka territory for somethird year’s party.

If nothing else, the music is good and when he andJonas pick their way through the crowd to reach the kitchen they find a fairlyhealthy selection of drinks at their disposal so Isak can’t feel too botheredabout their current location.

He kind of likes the anonymity of it.

There’s been so much shit happening in his liferecently – he’s been sleeping less and less, his mother is spiralling more andmore, he’s barely heard from his father, he’s mostly over his depressing crushon Jonas but still faced with the horrifying elephant in the room that he’s notquite ready to confront just yet. He just- he needs to switch off for a night.Be someone else. Someone who actually has their life together.

They get their drinks and then settle for propping upthe wall in the living room, observing the makeshift dance floor. Isak watchesJonas scan the room out of the corner of his eye and he knows Jonas is probablylooking at the girls, looking for someone to hook up with. It doesn’t hurtquite as much as it used to; it’s more of a dull ache than anything else now.

Isak isn’t sure how much time has passed when a thirdyear from their own school bumps into them on her way to the kitchen and assoon as she locks eyes with Jonas Isak knows it’s all over. They share a fewflirty comments that Isak mostly drowns out before Jonas offers to accompanyher to the kitchen, taking her hand and throwing Isak a look over his shoulderthat’s one quarter apologetic, three quarters elated.

Isak watches him until he’s out of sight beforelooking back to the living room at large. He should probably hook up with someonetoo – not that he really has any desire to but it’s his safety net, hisinsurance.

Feeling suddenly too suffocated in the living roomand giving into the painful twist in his stomach at the sight of any girl he could potentially hook upwith, Isak escapes to the back garden.

It’s surprisingly quiet out here. There are a fewpeople milling around the door but everyone else must either be inside or outthe front. He finds a porch swing just off the decking and decides to make ithis unofficial camp until Jonas finally decides they can go home. Not thatgoing home is all that great an option either. Maybe he can convince Jonas tolet him crash at his tonight, insist he’s too drunk to go home…

He’s weighing the merits of actually getting wastedversus just pretending when someone abruptly drops down onto the seat besidehim. Isak starts, head snapping to the right to find a stranger sitting next tohim.

A very hot stranger, fucking hell.

Isak hadn’t seen him when he was standing up butjudging by the way he stretches out his long legs to keep the porch swingmoving, he’s tall. His blond hair is swept up in a quiff and he’s gotdevastating blue eyes that have Isak lost in something of a daze until thestranger’s voice startles him out of it.

“Halla,” he says with a quirk of his eyebrows.

“Halla,” Isak replies automatically, eyes wide as theboy takes a joint from behind his ear and fishes a lighter out of his pocket.

“You don’t mind if we share the swing, do you?” theboy asks, placing the joint between his lips and cupping his hand around thetip while he clicks his lighter.

“No, it’s fine,” Isak replies dumbly, feelingslightly mesmerised as he watches the smoke escape from the boy’s mouth when heremoves the joint to respond with a quiet, “Takk.”

Isak spends an agonising minute wanting to stare atthe boy and trying desperately not to as the silence around them slowly growsheavy and awkward until the boy nudges him. Isak looks up and finds him offeringhis joint.

“Since you let me share the seat, I don’t mindsharing this,” he says affably, mouth curving up in a smile when Isakdelicately takes the joint from between his fingers. “I’m Even, by the way.”

Isak takes a drag, thankful to have something tofocus on, and exhales a moment later. “Isak,” he says, passing the joint backto Even and trying not to jolt when their fingers brush.

“You don’t go to Bakka, do you?” Even asks when he’sexhaled.

“Um, no. Nissen.”

Even looks at him, a smirk tilting his mouth as helets Isak take the joint back from him. “In enemy territory. Brave of you.”

Isak scoffs, feeling a little more of the tensiondrain out of his shoulders – even if Even leaning closer does have his heart ratchetingup a beat or two. “Nissen and Bakka aren’t enemies.”

Even tuts. “You’re no fun, Isak. This could’ve been agreat start to a modern twist on Romeo and Juliet, you know? Two star-crossedlovers meet at a party but their school rivalry is destined to tear them apart.”

Isak raises an eyebrow, ignoring the way he almostchokes on his inhale at Even’s words. “That’s a lot to take from a thirtysecond conversation on a porch swing with a person you’ve never met before.”

Even grins. “Everything is an opportunity for astory. You just have to look for it.”

Isak bites back his smile, nerves tingling in histummy when Even doesn’t move away after procuring the joint from Isak’s hand.

“Am I right in guessing you’re a first year?”

Isak nods. “What about you?”

“Third,” Even tells him, leaning his head against theback of the swing and blowing smoke into the air. “So how did you end up herereally?” Even wonders. “Are you on your own?”

“No, uh, my friend Jonas is inside,” Isak says beforehe makes a face. “He’s otherwise occupied right now.”

Even snorts, casting him a sidelong glance. “Andthere wasn’t anyone in there for you to hook up with?”

Isak’s mouth feels dry as he shakes his head. “No,”he says quietly. “No one.”

Even considers him for a moment, eyes flickering overIsak’s face. Isak doesn’t know what he finds in his expression but it has Even noddingto himself after a minute and passing the joint back.

Pulling bravery from the depths of his chest, he hesitantlyasks, “How come you’re out here onyour own?”

Even blinks before a brilliant smile spreads acrosshis face. “But I’m not alone, Isak. You’re here.”

Isak nods mutely. It doesn’t answer his question butin another way it sort of does.

They drift between comfortable silences andconversations after that, sharing tidbits of information about themselves liketrading secrets long after the joint is nothing but ash. And Isak feels apleasant hum in his bones as he leans his head against the back of the seat,though he’s not sure if that’s because of the weed or because of the way Even’sknee is touching his where he’s turned towards Isak on the swing.

Even is in the middle of a story about his friendMutta when Jonas suddenly appears on the edge of Isak’s vision. He looks over Even’sshoulder, raising his eyes to Jonas who’s standing next to the swing, faceflushed and hair a little wilder than normal.

“Dude, are you ready to go home?” he asks. “You cancrash at mine if you want.”

Isak frowns; Jonas isn’t one to leave his hook-ups allthat quickly. “What time is it?”

Jonas gives him a strange look before saying, “It’s1am. Come on, we can get McDonalds on the way.”

1am.

Has he really been out here with Even for almost twohours?

He looks at the boy in question who offers himnothing more than a smile, giving no indication whether he wants Isak to stayor go. Isak really doesn’t want to go.

But he also doesn’t really have a valid excuse so henods at Jonas and reluctantly pulls himself off the porch swing. Jonas isalready heading back up to the decking, satisfied that Isak will follow and he’sabout to when Even catches his wrist.

“You should come to more Bakka parties,” he says,expression unreadable but sending a thrill down Isak’s spine nonetheless.

Isak feels a smile tug at his lips as he nods. “Iwill.”

Even grins and releases him, settling back into theseat again in satisfaction. “See you around, Isak.”

“See you around, Even.” Isak feels Even’s eyes on himthe entire time as he jogs back up to the decking to catch up with Jonas who’swaiting for him at the doorway.

“Who was that guy?” Jonas asks when they start makingtheir way back through the somewhat emptier house.

“Just some third year from Bakka,” Isak says,ignoring the way his stomach is still doing flips. “He shared his weed with me.”

“Sick,” Jonas says, making a detour to grab theircoats before they step through the front door. “Sorry for abandoning you, bythe way.”

Isak shrugs, burying his hands in his pockets as theymake their way down the street. “It’s cool. I was with Even.”

As he listens to Jonas ramble about the girl he can’thelp but think something important might have happened to him tonight.

*

#evak #isak valtersen #even bech næsheim #skam #my fics #asks #Anon

[iwrotemywayto-revolution]

In Sickness and in Health

Request: decoy bride au part two! part one here (there’s one more part left)

Pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda x reader

Word count: 3,366

Warnings: physical fighting, near death experience of drowning, misunderstandings 

A/N: The amount of support I received for this fic has been amazing- thank you to everyone who sent love! Thanks also to @fragmentofmymind for proofreading and being amazing.

Feedback is very very welcome!

@picklessfights, @itsjaynebird, @awesome-wow-imagines, @haletotheking24, @bullshit-snauzer, @justanotherhamiltrash, @jazzyyyjones --

Lin stretched out on the bed, staring at the canopy. You sat cross-legged beside him, digging through the massive pile of gifts that had been left on there for the happy couple. “Is this a signed copy of your own book?” you asked incredulously, holding up a heavy, bound copy of the Hamilton book.

“Yeah,” Lin laughed sheepishly. He propped himself up on one elbow and took it from you, opening it to the title page, “Probably Chris’ idea of a joke.” 

You reached back into the pile and held up the matching Hamilton t-shirts you had found, raising an eyebrow. “They’re nice t-shirts!” he said defensively. 

You just laughed and set to refolding the shirts. Lin looked at you thoughtfully for a moment. “What’s your actual job?” 

“My actual job?” 

“Yeah,” he said, “I assume you don’t spend all your time in a shepherd’s hut or fake-marrying Americans.”

You bit your lip. “I’m between jobs,” you said finally, “my last one was in Edinburgh with my boyfriend.” You winced to remember the morning you had stormed out of the apartment you had shared, your clothes stuffed into your suitcase and the image of him in bed with another girl seared into your mind. 

“Why did you come here?” you asked, mostly to distract yourself. When Lin looked confused, you elaborated, “You could have got married on a beach in Puerto Rico or in a picturesque old town upstate in the US- why this place?”

The wedding dress was spread around you on the bed, the veil tossed over the side of a chair and the pins that had kept it and your hair in place scattered. Lin was still in his suit, though he had loosened the tie and undone the buttons on his jacket. 

“We wanted somewhere where the press would never-” he grimaced at glanced towards the window- “find us. Chris found this place and its associations with Hamilton and here we are.”

You snorted. “A Hamilton themed wedding- there’s an ego-boost if I ever saw one.” You spotted a bottle of champagne on the side and reached for it. “What’s she like?” you asked as you uncorked the bottle.

“Who?” Lin took the bottle from you and had a swig. His leg jiggled, disturbing the neat pile of wedding gifts that you had stacked up. He must really be worried about his fiancée, you realised.

“Your wife-to-be,” you clarified, “what’s she like?”

Lin’s eyes softened and his gaze fixed on something just beyond your shoulder. “She’s perfect,” he smiled dreamily, “Kind and generous and selfless and beautiful inside and out.” 

You fiddled with the cork, trying to imagine having someone who loved you as much as Lin clearly loved Vanessa. You set the bottle down and flopped back, wincing as a last bobby pin poked at your scalp, “She sounds nice.”

“She’s out there,” Lin said quietly, “and I’m not there for her.”

“She’ll be alright,” you stared at the bed’s canopy, which was decorated to look like the night sky, and felt awkward and tongue-tied next to Lin, “You’ll be more of a help to her here than blundering around the island leading that lot to her.”

Lin grimaced and took another swig from the champagne. You wished you had been able to take your phone so you could call for help, but wedding dresses didn’t seem to come with pockets, infuriatingly enough.

“Did you sign the register?” you asked. 

Lin frowned, “Course- I thought it was real, remember?” A beat. “Why?”

You lifted your hand, the simple golden wedding band already feeling familiar on your ring finger. “I think,” you said slowly, “that in all the fuss I might have signed my own name.”

The silence stretched as Lin’s jaw dropped. He lifted his own hand, as though he had only just realised what the ring meant- and what it represented. “I think I want a divorce,” he said faintly.

Abruptly, the door opened and the two of you sat up. A man was in the doorway, a camera hanging round his neck. A paparazzo, you realised, if his practiced hands on the camera were anything to go by. 

He looked confused as he scanned the room, frowning when he saw you and Lin on the bed. “Where is Vanessa?” he asked.

You looked at Lin. A vein was pulsing in the side of his neck and his fists were clenched. He looked like he’d like nothing better than to jump up at start throwing punches. So they knew each other. 

“None of your business,” he growled.

“Oh?” the newcomer raised an eyebrow and lifted his camera, “she is missing and you are cavorting with- with a prostitute?”

“I am not a prostitute!” You glared, holding up your hand to display the wedding ring still glinting on your finger. The paparazzo gaped. “I’m his wife,” you said proudly.

“You bastard,” he said to Lin and Lin snapped, hurling the copy of the Hamilton book at him. The paparazzo ducked but Lin was on his feet and reaching for the next thing to throw. You rolled off the bed and decided to stay out of the way as the paparazzo grabbed a teddy bear from the pile of gifts and threw it at Lin. 

You stood up and started to edge towards the door. A particularly badly aimed glass paperweight thunked against the wall beside you, shattering. You winced as a fragment caught your shoulder, thankfully not cutting you. 

The paparazzo had headed back to the door. “You will never be worthy of Vanessa!” He yelled furiously before slamming the door. 

Lin yelled something after him and tried to open the door again, but it had locked. “Fuck,” Lin said emphatically and kicked the door, wincing at the pain. “I hate that guy.”

You were too busy examining the wall where the paperweight had shattered. “Lin!” You pried a chunk of the wall away with your fingers- it was almost soft, “Look!”

He hurried over as you picked at the wall. “Styrofoam?” He frowned, then laughed. “That'll be Chris’ idea of trying to make the room smaller and cosier.”

You took a step back, hitched up your skirts, and kicked the wall, wobbling dangerously on your one heel. The styrofoam bricks gave way and you and Lin pushed your way through. Behind the realistically painted and stacked styrofoam was a stone spiral staircase.

Lin rushed down them immediately. “Wait up!” you called, struggling to pull off your heels. With them in hand, you ran down the stairs with your skirts lifted just enough that you wouldn’t trip. By the time you dashed into what was clearly a storeroom Lin was already peering out the single window.

“There’s a pedal boat in the moat just below the window,” he said as he climbed up onto the wide stone window ledge. “I’ll get help.”

You dropped the shoes and started to climb after him. “I’m coming,” you pointed out indignantly- as if you’d just stay in a cold castle cellar while he left! “Wait.”

Lin had already dropped into the boat and was busy untethering it from its peg in the moat. “No,” he insisted, not even looking up, “there’s water in the bottom of this- you’ll get Vanessa’s dress wet.”

You ignored him and started to climb out of the window. The dress caught on a nail. “Fuck,” you muttered and set to pulling it loose. It seemed to be stubbornly stuck and you yanked and pulled until it suddenly loosened. Balance thrown off, you felt yourself fall and reached desperately for the edge of the window.

Lin was already pulling away in the boat, but he turned back when you let out an undignified shriek followed immediately by a splash as you hit the water. The dress is wet, you thought a tiny bit hysterically. You flailed and pushed up towards the sun-dappled surface, but something pulled you back. The dress. Again. 

Whatever combination of stones and rubbish had accumulated at the bottom of the moat had caught on the dress. Your feet pushed off the bottom again, hoping to tear the dress, but you didn’t move. I’m going to drown, you thought, almost resigned.  A little way away you could see the shadow of the boat. Made clumsy and slow by the water, you struggled to release your dress. 

But you had no more air and your chest was tight and the edges of your vision were beginning to blur and you watched your last bubbles of air drift up towards the surface. You closed your eyes and thought of your mother.

--

Lin saw you disappear into the water and swore. You just had to follow him, didn’t you? He waited for you to resurface, wincing when he imagined the state Vanessa’s dress would be in. She might actually murder him for this.

You still hadn’t come up for air. Lin frowned, and then started to pull off his suit jacket, tossing it into the boat. He took a deep breath and dived, opening his eyes once he was under water. 

You were floating there and for a moment his heart stopped. Then he saw the dress, caught firmly on something metal. He swam down and pulled. The dress resisted. He tried again. You’d been under too long. 

He yanked instead at the seam and, with a water-muffled tear, the skirt of the dress tore. Lin tore it clean off and, hooking an arm around you, kicked for the surface. You were heavy and waterlogged but Lin made it to the edge of the moat and lifted you up onto the grass. 

Every moment that you didn’t breathe seemed to last an eternity. He climbed up onto the bank beside you and carefully rolled you onto your side and opened your mouth. Would he have to do CPR? He thought back to the first-aid classes he had taken in college and wished he had paid more attention.

Before he could decide what to do you coughed. Water dribbled out of your mouth and you panted, relief in the set of your shoulders. Then you spotted Lin leaning over you. 

“Thanks,” you managed, then noticed your dress. Lin’s tearing had reduced it to a mini-dress, the hem just barely covering your underwear. You blushed and Lin laughed. 

“Sorry about the dress,” he said, averting his eyes as you struggled to tug it lower.

“It’s my fault,” you pointed out and scrambled to your feet. 

--

“Where now?”

You walked along the sandy beach, shivering in the windy and cold that never seemed to leave the island. You held the torn dress down to cover your underwear and Lin walked along beside you, clothes soaked. 

“My house isn’t far,” you said, teeth chattering, “we can change there.”

Lin had wanted to set out looking for Vanessa immediately but you had pointed out that neither of you would be much use to her with hypothermia. Plus you were more likely to draw attention in your current outfits and, since the paparazzi hopefully still thought you and Lin were in the castle, not the best of ideas.

“Thank you for saving my life,” you said. 

“You’ve still got so much of it left,” Lin pointed out, “It seems a waste. I’m sorry you almost drowned.”

You smiled. “Don’t be- my life flashed before my eyes down there, and I was bored halfway through.” You turned off the beach and started along the rocky path to your home, Lin easily keeping pace beside you, “I want to do something more.”

“You can,” Lin said, “the world is waiting for you, Y/N.”

You snorted as you pulled the spare key out from inside the fake bird-feeder and unlocked the door. “The world isn’t waiting for a small island in the Hebrides, Lin.”

Lin frowned and looked like he was about to argue, but you beckoned him inside. The house was deliciously warm after the biting cold outside, and it appeared to be empty. 

You took Lin into the kitchen and set the kettle to boil. “I’ll grab you something to wear,” you told him and dashed upstairs.

You grabbed yourself some clothes and rooted around in your cupboard until you found a neat pile of  clothes. Your first boyfriend- a cute, scruffy, arty boy boy from Aberdeen called Douglas- had left them behind and never come back for them. They did, admittedly, consist of an absurd pair of tartan trousers, a hideous yellow and paisley-patterned shirt, and a fluffy gilet-like jacket, but it was all you had. 

Lin was pouring tea when you arrived in the kitchen again. He raised an eyebrow when you handed him the clothes, but didn’t complain. There was a washing line that stretched across the kitchen and you pegged a sheet to it for a little privacy. You set a timer for the tea- you’d forget it if you didn’t.

The stockings- laddered and torn- were the easiest to get off. Twisting your arms behind you, you started to undo the long line of buttons that trailed down your back. At first they were easy, but then you couldn’t reach, so you reached from above. But a couple of buttons still stayed stubbornly unreachable. You took a deep breath.

“Lin?” you asked tentatively. Lin lifted the curtain. You turned around so he could see the last few buttons, looking back over your shoulder. 

“Need a hand?” he stepped past the curtain, letting it fall back into place behind him. He had taken off his shirt, his undershirt tucked up and still wet enough to cling to him.

You looked away, forcing yourself to focus on the rain that had started to batter against the windows again. But when you felt his fingers brush against your skin as he undid the buttons, you shivered. You felt Lin still for a moment. 

The timer for the tea went and Lin jumped. He undid the last button quickly and headed over to pull out the teabags, sticking them in the compost. You focused on your breathing and finished getting changed. 

A mistake, you told yourself firmly as Lin cheerfully asked if you took milk or sugar, and not one that can happen again.

--

Lin emerged from behind the curtain, rolling up the sleeves of the shirt you had lent him. You stifled a laugh at the sight of him in your ex-boyfriend’s clothes. The tartan trousers fit alright, though their orange and red pattern clashed horribly with the shirt. The gilet-like jacket was fluffy and the same orange as the trousers, with bits of the fluff sticking out weirdly or squashed flat from being in the cupboard for a couple of years.

“Quite a look,” Lin laughed. “Whose were these?”

“My ex-boyfriend’s,” you handed him his tea, “he played in a bagpipe band called Hot Red Chili Pipers- the band’s quite successful now but he’s not in it anymore.”

The radiators in the living room were the warmest, so you and Lin headed through to warm up. Other than your bedrooms, it was the only part of the house that guests weren’t allowed to stay in. Even B&B owners needed privacy, however infrequent their guests.

“It’s not much,” you said, abruptly aware of how rural your house must seem compared to a fancy New York apartment. 

“I like it,” Lin looked around, gaze landing on the line of photos along the mantel above the fireplace. Photos of you as a baby, as a frowning toddler, a child on her first day at school- your life in wooden frames. You never realised how much of your life stayed at home every time you went away.

You settled yourself on the carpet by the radiator, hoping your hair would dry quickly at least. A warm shower would have been nice, you thought wistfully, but the hot water wasn’t reliable on the best of days. 

Lin sat down beside you. “What now?” he asked. He slid the ring off his finger and held it up. “What do we do about this?”

“We’ll go to the vicar- he’s married everyone on his island,” you paused, considering the simple gold ring on your finger.  “Well, everyone except me, I suppose. But he’ll know what to do.”

Lin pulled out his phone. “It’s broken,” he pressed the home button but the screen stayed black. “I don’t suppose you have a landline?”

You reached over to the rickety coffee table and pulled the landline towards you. “Do you know her number?” you asked. 

He bit his lip but, after a moment, nodded. “I need to know if she’s alright.” He took the phone and started to punch in the number before he seemed to realise he’d need to add the country code for Vanessa’s American phone. You got up and started to walk out. “Where are you going?” Lin asked.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” you said, nodding vaguely towards the kitchen.

--

You washed up the last few plates from that morning’s breakfast and tried to ignore the strange feeling that had seemed to well up inside you when Lin had asked to call Vanessa. It wasn’t like you had feelings for him, you told yourself. The gold ring, which you had taken off to do the washing up, seemed to sit almost accusatorially on the window sill. 

The front door opened, jarring you out of your thoughts. “Y/N!” your mother’s familiar voice sounded from down the hallway, “Grab your shoes and a waterproof bag!”

She appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, hair blown into disarray by the wind that was starting to get up outside, her old yellow macintosh damp still damn from that morning’s rain. You set the plate  you had been washing down in the sink, curious. “What?” 

Behind her, you saw Lin leave the sitting room, a frown creasing his forehead into worried lines. “There’s money all over the cove,” she said, “but not for long- we need to hurry if we want to get it!” 

You raised an eyebrow and sighed. Though you weren’t struggling to get by, your mother had been saving for years for a chance to travel the world. Raising you on dwindling funds and the proceeds of a tiny bed and breakfast hadn’t left much room for much saving, and you knew your constant attempts to leave weren’t helping either. But as much as you sympathised, your mother did tend to get a bit… fanatic about it.“What money?” you decided to ask instead.

Your mother tossed you the hand towel. “The money I got from selling that Miranda guy’s story to the press,” she said impatiently. “They’re all outside the castle waiting, but his fiancee made me throw the money away.”

You felt sick swooping sensation in your stomach and clapped a hand to your mouth. “You did what?” you whispered.

“I see what this is,” Lin stepped into the kitchen. He looked furious, clutching his mug so tightly that you worried he would break it, “This is a nice little scheme you have set up here.”

“Lin-”

“Who is this?” your mother demanded, wheeling to face Lin.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “This is Lin, Mum.”

“Lin,” she repeated, and you saw the moment she realised. “Lin-Manuel Miranda.”

He nodded. “So what was the plan? You sell out my wedding while she makes cow-eyes at me in hope of another payday?”

“Cow eyes?” you said indignantly. “I was not making cow eyes at anyone, thank you very much-”

Lin slammed the mug down on the countertop. “I hope you’re happy,” he snarled and stormed out.

“Lin wait-” you called, but the door was already slamming behind him. You watched him walk away through the kitchen window. You felt tears well and hastily wiped them away. 

“Y/N,” your mother said quietly, “I’m sorry.” She opened her arms and pulled you into a hug. You clutched at the fabric of her jumper for a moment.

“I messed up, Mum,” you said, throat thick. You remembered the sadness you had seen on Lin’s face before the fury had set in and winced, “I really messed up.”

--

#lin manuel miranda x reader #lin x reader #hamilton reader insert #lin miranda x reader #decoy bride au #hamilton cast imagine #lin manuel miranda imagine #lin imagine #lin miranda imagine

[foslad]

Almost Too Good (A Chris Evans Story): Part 14

CAPTAIN AMERICA STAR CHRIS EVANS TAKES TIME OFF OF SAVING THE WORLD IN ORDER TO STAR IN NEW GUCCI GUILTY AD WITH ADRIAN WARNER

Hollywood hotties Chris Evans and Adrian Warner heated up everyone’s screens last night as Gucci unveiled them as the stars of their new ‘Gucci Guilty’ perfume campaign. The accompanying commercial saw the two take a lilting trip around Italy before getting steamy and falling into each other’s arms in the back of a vintage car.

Gucci hosted the launch party last night at The St. Regis in NYC and both stars showed up to promote their latest venture. The campaign’s leading lady looked stunning in a metallic beaded Gucci number whilst Evans looked dapper in an all-black black Gucci suit.

-PICTURES BELOW-

This is the brand’s second outing with the Gucci Guilty fragrance and this time around, viewers saw Midsummer actress and Tall Bill alumni Adrian Warner take over from Westworld’s Evan Rachel Wood.

Chris is already a veteran with the brand and when asked if he was keen to show newcomer Warner the ropes, he said that there was ‘no need, she’s got it covered’.

Speaking on the red carpet at last night’s launch party, Evans described his co-star as ‘terrific’, stating: ‘There’s no airs or graces about her, you know. She’s very down to earth, very talented, very beautiful. A force to be reckoned with so to speak,’ with him then joking that ‘she’ll probably take over the world someday.’

Likewise, when asked about what it was like to star with hunky Evans, Adrian praised her co-star, calling him ‘a talented guy’ before going on to say how ‘lucky’ she felt to be a part of it all.

The overwhelming urge to slam my head onto the desk was unbearable.

It was: terrific, down to earth, talented, beautiful, world dominating VS …….. talented guy.

‘You know, I’m pretty fucking sure I called him a VERY talented guy!’ I muttered to no one in particular.

‘It’s not that bad.’

I looked up from the computer and glared at Amy before looking back to the article and scanning my eyes over it once more to make sure before launching my head back in a groan.

‘Why did he have to be nice!? WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE MAD AT EACH OTHER!’ I suddenly felt like I knew Ross from Friends on a spiritual level. ‘Or at least, HE was supposed to be mad!’

Clearly attempting to diffuse the situation, Amy picked up her phone and began scrolling. ‘Hey, come on now, let’s focus on the positives here! Magda’s email said that the commercial has done really well so far! Over 200,000 views in one night on YouTube! For a commercial? That’s really good Adrian!’

Completely ignoring her, I continued to mumble to myself.

‘If I didn’t already look like a huge asshole in his eyes, this, this is just the cherry on top of a giant fucking fail.’

I quickly shut the laptop lid down and lifted my legs up onto the seat, folding my arms as I huffed at it all.

I’d come to the conclusion that, more than anything, I wished I’d done something last night. Grabbed his hand, pulled him back, spoke to him and told him that I do trust him; kissed him, done anything other than just stand there and silently accept it.

The thing about our lack of communication between his house in Boston and the Gucci party was that in the back of my mind, I knew that I was still going to see him again. It was set in stone that we’d still have to see each other at least once more and I didn’t recognize at the time how comforting that had been.

This time, there was nothing. All of our work obligations with the brand were separate now.

There was no reason for him to ever want to see me again.

Unless of course, Dana turned out to be right and they actually did want us back to do another campaign. Even then, judging by Chris’ face when Dana had told us “the good news”, there was no guarantee he’d actually want to do another.

I shook my head. Just thinking about it all again spiraled another sense of sadness in me and I barely noticed Amy put her phone away and fall back onto the couch in the process.

‘Adrian I have no idea what to say to you right now.’ Liar. I knew exactly what she wanted to say. I TOLD YOU SO. This was one of those times that I was grateful that she was also a friend and knew when to bite her tongue.

‘April Fools would be nice.’ I drawled back sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes before sitting up and taking a breath.

‘Adrian, you wanna know what I think?’

I looked over at her but didn’t nod or give any audible response, instead continuing to bite on my knuckle in sheer frustration.

‘My guess is that he ended it because the poor guy is feeling a little insecure.’ She started. ‘I mean, let’s be real here, he tried REALLY hard.’

‘Oh please, Chris isn’t insecure! I was an idiot and he jumped ship because I wasn’t worth all the hassle. End of story.’ I scoffed.

‘Would you just think about it rationally for a second? He always apologized when he thought he’d upset you, he surprised you with things, he flew to New York for you, he invited you into his personal life by asking you to meet his family and friends and… you know, maybe he felt insecure at the end of the day when it wasn’t working out how he envisioned.’

I studied her closely, listening intently now.

‘Kind of like, all of that wasn’t good enough for you or something. That after all that you still had doubts about him. I reckon he thought that he wasn’t good enough for you…’

‘But that’s not true.’ I piped up sadly. 

‘Adrian, you know as well as I do that men are not mind readers. You have to physically shout in their ear “I WOULD RATHER EAT SOMEONE ELSE’S VOMIT THAN GO VISIT YOUR BITCHY MOTHER AGAIN” like I have to do with Corey before they realize where you’re coming from.’

‘I know… I know. I’m beginning to get that communication isn’t exactly my forte.’ I groaned.

I watched as Amy slid off of the couch and crawled the small space to crouch in front of me.

‘You’re not good at communication because you’re closed off Adrian. The whole Alex thing was a very fucked up situation and an awful thing to go through.’ She placed her hand on my knee and began rubbing it. ‘So of course it’s going to affect you. Hell, you’ve never even really looked at any guys since!’

She began to make gesture with her hands. ‘Good-looking, intelligent, funny; it doesn’t matter, all of them have slipped by because, naturally, you don’t want to get hurt again. But at some point Adrian, you have to move forward. Learn from it.. but move on. Otherwise if this is how you handle any guy being interested in you then you’re going to end up alone and you’re too wonderful for that to happen.’

I could feel my eyes start to well up slightly as she spoke.

Her mouth formed a sympathetic smile before speaking again. ‘At this point Adrian, I would argue that there is no one who knows you better than me. We are together all day, every day, and I know you like the back of my hand. And my guess is that you didn’t actually realize you had a chip on your shoulder about jumping back into a relationship because there hasn’t been anyone you’ve actually wanted. Until now. I know you don’t want this to end and I know you don’t want this to have all been for nothing. Please, please, please don’t let the stupid mistakes of one guy taint your opinion of all the others.’

I hated when Amy was right; it always meant that I was wrong.

Eventually, after a brief moment of intense soul searching, I dejectedly spoke up. ‘What do you suggest I do? He made it very clear he doesn’t want to be with me right now...’

‘So go to LA. Surprise him, make an effort! Show him that now IS a good time… it just took you a minute to realize that!’ She sounded as though it was the obvious thing to do and I couldn’t help but admire her insatiable desire to play cupid in my life.

‘As romantic as that sounds, there’s no point. He’s not even going to be in LA.’ I informed her sadly.

‘Oh. Well, where is he?’

‘I have absolutely no clue. All I know is that he imminently plans to be in a cabin by himself somewhere in a woodland, far away from civilization and far away from any of the drama that I bring to the table.’

‘Well then, you know what you need to do.’ She stated, once again as though it were the crystal clear option.

This time I just raised my eyebrow in response.

‘Go to the cabin.’

I could practically feel my eyes pop out of their sockets as soon as the words left her mouth. ‘Hell no! Amy, I would look like psycho of the year if I did that!’

‘What have you got to lose? Technically you’re already over. The worst he can do is be like “Oh dude, what the fuck!” but part of me is pretty sure you’ll get a reaction. And then you can say to yourself “well at least I didn’t just stand there… at least I tried”, right?’

‘No, no, no, no.’ I could see her point but it was currently a life vest in a sea of stalkerdom that I wasn’t willing to swim in. ‘Even if I wanted to go and find him, which I simply won’t do, I wouldn’t even know where to start.’

‘You don’t have any numbers you could call and ask?’

I shook my head and she lent back onto her heels, dejected.

We sighed and stayed silent for a while, wallowing. It wasn’t until my stomach let out a low grumble did the silence cease. I launched my hand to it and frowned. I very rarely felt hungry because I usually ate little and often. Today, however, I had skipped breakfast to focus on other things; like the shit storm that was my personal life.

Amy had clearly heard and nodded her head in response, probably having skipped breakfast too. As soon as she heard what had happened, she’d checked out of the hotel first thing and was at my place by 8:00am.

‘We should probably find some food. What even is the time?’ She asked before answering her own question by pulling out her phone. ‘It’s only 11? It feels like we’ve been Dr Phil’ing it in here forever!’ She attempted as a joke and I found myself smiling a little in agreement.

She smiled back before slowly lowering her eyebrows in thought. ‘… it’s only 11.’

‘Hm?’

Before I knew it, Amy had sprung to her feet and sped across the room to the couch.

‘Get your shoes and jacket on Adrian! We have to stop off somewhere before we get food!’

I slowly got up, confused by her sudden hurry and bent over to retrieve the winter coat I had hanging on the back of my chair. ‘Where are we going?’

‘You’ll see! Come on!’

--

I could’ve killed her.

The last time I had set foot in here, I was wearing a gorgeous gown with hair and makeup that actually matched the campaign I was promoting.

As I stood there now in the lobby: no makeup, having had very little sleep, with a winters coat on top of an old t-shirt, jeans and sneakers topped off with a messy ponytail, I was either going to be noticed (which would be mortifying) or I wasn’t going to be noticed at all due to looking so different (which would probably be even more mortifying).

‘Wait!’ Amy’s eyes lit up in the direction behind me. Snapping my head around, my eyes frantically searched for Chris. I frowned when all I saw was a couple of families and some workers running back and forth past each other.

‘I don’t see him..’

‘Not Chris, but isn’t that his assistant at the checkout desk!?’

I turned again and glancing in a different spot, I noticed that it was indeed Jake. He looked to be by himself, trying to keep hold of a number of suit carriers that were all stacked up on his arm.

Before I could even muster the words to protest the intrusion on him, Amy wasted no time in launching herself in his direction.

‘Amy-no!’ But she was gone with the wind. I shut my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose in exasperation. With a quick swallow of my pride, I reluctantly began to follow her. Not that I got very far…

I had managed two steps before I could hear someone call my name in a familiar voice from behind me. ‘Adrian?’

Once again, I shut my eyes. Only this time it was for an entirely different reason.

Oh God. This is it. My career is over. I’m not getting hired again.

At the pace of a sloth, I turned my body around and was faced with, admittedly, a slightly disheveled looking Dana.

‘Oh it is you, aftanoon dah-ling!’ He smiled as he signed some form on the desk top.

‘Dana, hi!’ I smiled through gritted teeth as I pulled my coat around to hide my hideous outfit.

‘Last night vas fabulous, ja? How are you feeling today?’

‘Oh, it was incredible.’ I gushed, as I subtly tried to run a hand through my bushy ponytail.

Noticing my fidgety state, Dana waved a hand in the air. ‘Oh don’t vorry dah-ling, it’s a sunglasses inside kind of day for me today too.’

He proceeded to tell me how delighted he was with the feedback for the commercial and that he couldn’t be prouder with the outcome.

Eventually, he thanked the lady behind the desk before picking up his man bag and throwing it over his shoulder. ‘It’s been a long veek.’ He announced tiredly. ‘But no rest for zee vicked. Pleasure to see you Adrian. Ciao for now.’ He leaned forward and kissed me on both cheeks before making his way out of the lobby with three employees in tow carrying his cases.

Triumphant in the fact that my encounter with him could’ve gone a lot worse, I turned back around to see that Amy and Jake had somehow managed to avoid my humiliation and had simply conversed the entire time without me. 

Charming.

-

I bit down on my sandwich and experienced my first piece of happiness that day. Central Park was only a couple of minutes from the hotel and Amy had decided that going back to my apartment was probably a bad idea and that, after being stuck in the hotel basically all day yesterday, we could do with some fresh air.

As we strolled along, I thought of things to say that for once didn’t revolve around me.

‘How’s Corey?’

She shrugged her shoulders as she bit into her own sandwich. ‘He’s good.’ She finished her mouthful before continuing. ‘Things are still kind of at a weird place because of the whole Mom thing…’

I nodded my head, feeling bad for her.

Amy and her boyfriend’s mother have never really gotten along. She always saw him with someone special and Amy was not the someone special she envisioned. My heart always bled for Amy because it was obvious that if it wasn’t for that situation, she would probably have been more than just his long term girlfriend by now.

‘I just wish he’d stand up for me more…’ I nodded and listened to her as we walked along, grateful for once to be her person to open up to. I made a mental note to do something nice for her as a cheer up/thank you surprise soon. She always had her own problems going on and yet never let me down, both professionally and as my rock.

Despite having walked and talked for 10 minutes, Amy was quick to try and put her problems to the back of her mind like always.

We parked ourselves down on a bench and watched a yoga class that was in session not far from us.

‘He’s still in Boston you know…’

I outwardly groaned. ‘Amy please! Can’t I just wallow in peace?’

‘I’m just saying, I’m just saying.’ She held her hands up in innocence. ‘… he’s not going to his little cabin thing for another couple of days…’

‘Amy.’

‘He drove up early this morning to beat traffic. He’s at the place he owns there… no one around…’

‘Amy.’

‘If you’re curious, the address is 1-‘

‘AMY!’

‘Okay! Alright! Mums the word!’ She mimed a zipper action and sat back on the bench.

Clearly my little distraction with Dana earlier had left plenty of time for her and Jake to chit-chat…

‘At the very least…’ She piped up again. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, not wanting to shout at her again. ‘… he definitely didn’t plan it.’

I re-opened my eyes and looked at her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Jake seemed totally oblivious earlier. I doubt if he thought you guys weren’t still a thing he would have told me half the things that he did.’

‘What did he tell you?’ Okay, I was curious. So sue me.

‘Like where he was and how it’s normal for him to work a bunch with no time off and then just take a chunk to chill. So once again, it’s not because of you that he’s “getting away” aaaaaaaand that he didn’t stay in the hotel last night but instead went to go meet up with a friend who flew in on a late flight and brought his dog.’

I quirked an eyebrow, intrigued at that last piece of information. Clearly he was going to be away from LA for a while if he’d flown Dodger over…

I retreated to my mind and thought about how excited I had been upon learning that my next movie was going to be shot in LA because it meant being nearer to Chris…

Now there was something empty about him not being there.

‘Adrian, you have this whole week off! You have to do something with it otherwise you’ll drive yourself insane.’ She exclaimed out of nowhere.

Despite still being zoned out, I was listening enough to respond. ‘I was thinking about going to California early.’

‘Yeah?’ I could tell she was a little taken back, it wasn’t like me to want to leave home early.

I blinked myself back into reality and looked over at her with a smile. ‘Yeah, I haven’t seen Gracey for a while and it’s like you said, I may as well use this time off. Distract myself, I guess.’

‘That’s a great idea! You should do that!’ 

My sister Gracey and her fiance Oscar lived in San Diego and with her being a regular on the soap opera Fallen Hills, I got to see her the least of all my siblings.

‘Did you need me to go with you?’ She offered.

‘Oh God no, you deserve this week off just as much as me!’ I argued. ‘In reality, you shouldn’t even be here now!’

‘In all honesty, I’m like 92% sure that Corey invited dragon breath over without telling me because I saw before I left yesterday that he bought her stupid fancy milk and was keeping it in the fridge. So the less time I have to put up with her, the better, trust me. You’d be doing me a favor.’

I made a frowny face but decided to agree to let her hide out at mine for a while, anything to make her life easier.

-----

When we got back to the apartment, I set about organizing a small travel bag to take to San Diego whilst Amy looked up flights for me. After checking my weather app for the week, I grabbed few pairs of jeans, a couple of light shirts, some pajamas, my walking boots (just in case Oscar wanted to do some hiking) and then a couple of bras and some underwear.

As I sifted through my drawer, I couldn’t stop myself from being reminded about when Chris had seen them all.

‘If you ever want to see any of these in action, you’ll give me them back right now!’

‘Yes ma’am!’

So much for any action…

I shoved them away into the bag and thought back on what Amy had said earlier.

Was it really Chris who was the insecure one?

Later, as I showered and lathered up, all I could think about was how he had called me out on my trust issues in a non-patronizing way that I didn’t even know existed and how in reality, he’d only ever been honest with me from the start.

To still not trust someone after that was craziness, there’s no warrant to it!

Sure, he’s had plenty of girlfriends… but that doesn’t make him a bad person.

Shutting off the shower, the ensuing cold air and silence only intensified the realization that my mistakes had cost me the one thing I really wanted. A fresh start. Amy was right, I had no idea that I had these insecurities because I hadn’t gotten close enough to someone to know that I had them in me. I’d always blamed my schedule or the fact there just wasn’t any time. Which was a factor in fairness, just not the final one.

I began to dry my hair.

The word how began to go round and round in my head as frequently as the towel drying it. How? How had I gotten here? How had I been the one to hurt somebody else’s feelings while selfishly thinking of my own? HOW was I going to make this all okay before it drove me insane??

I stepped out onto the cold tiles, wrapped a different towel around myself and made my way through to the bedroom, my mind racing at 100 miles per hour as I did so.

-

That night after having organised with Amy everything that we needed to take with us to LA, I slipped into bed and pulled up the YouTube app on my phone. Whilst there was no way in which I could’ve avoided the pictures that had been taken and were now gracing billboards everywhere, I still had yet to see the commercial. I had been too ashamed when Magda had sent the early copy over because it was at the point when I had begun to ignore Chris.

In hindsight, I hated myself for doing that. Stupid Poppy.

I typed in ‘Gucci Guilty commercial’ and saw that we were now the top option, with the previous campaigns below us. 304,212 views.

Holy crap, that’s a hell of a lot of views for a day and a half!?

A male voice, reminiscent of Cat Stevens, began to cover an acoustic version of what I would later recognize as ‘Runaway’ by The Corrs. As the guitar strummed to life, my thoughts began to run away too.

I sighed dreamily, that gold dress really was beautiful. I didn’t even recognize myself in it.

And there’s Chris… Ugh, so handsome…

You can see how much fun we’re having in our eyes in that driving scene.

Wait, we didn’t even shoot that frame? I’m like 98% sure that was a candid one of us leaning on the car in between takes? I’ll need to check that agai-

Oh God. The love scene. My eyes unashamedly scanned every pixel of the screen. There were so many things I didn’t even notice when we’d shot it. Did we really smile at each other when he’d clambered into the back seat with me? Were we that… messy? I had thought we were so elegant and sexy at the time. But this was… this was so messy and needy, it seemed like it was… real?

The look on his face when he realized I’d left without saying goodbye... I couldn’t stop myself from remembering how the day I watched him shoot it was the day I knew I’d fallen for him…

Dana had been right. Forty seconds. Forty seconds of footage I was not expecting.

I was frozen long after the screen went black. It didn’t have the tone I thought it would take at all. It wasn’t the grunge-noir piece like the previous ones they’d shot for the campaign. It wasn’t even the feisty piece I’d thought it was going to pan out to be when we’d wrapped. It was brighter and softer and more spring than I could have ever imagined.

It was lovely.

Pure and simple.

‘I have runaway, yeah-ah, I have runawayyyy, with you.’

That week in Italy really did feel like our own little world. I liked it. And now I was sad.

-

I hadn’t realized I’d fallen asleep until my eyes strained to open themselves at a buzzing sound that had somehow maneuvered itself around my space mission dream and exploded the whole rocket.

I eventually managed to come around and open my eyes enough to remember where I was and to seek the problem out.

I gazed at my bedside table and saw that it was my phone that was emitting the sound. Oh God. Why is someone ringing me this late? I hope nothing bad has happened.

Without even a second thought, I picked up the phone, turned it around and accepted the call.

‘Hello?’ I managed, albeit a bit groggily.

‘Adrian?’ A muffled male voice came amidst a cluster of background noise.

I didn’t say anything back, realising now that I had probably been crank called.

‘Adrian? Are you there? It’s Scott!’ The cheery voice spoke up once again.

Scott? Who’s Sc-OH, Scott! Oh, wow, that’s… unexpected. Why was he calling me?

‘Scott, hi!’

‘Were you sleeping?’ Scott asked before a muffled, ‘what’d I tell you?’ added in from the background.

‘Okay, wait, hang on a sec.’ He declared. For a moment or so, all I could hear was footsteps, an ‘okay, come in but be quiet’ and then a round of snickering as though they were school children in trouble and finally the closing of a door.

‘Okay, so, it’s Scott.’

I gave a lazy laugh before giving him another ‘Hi Scott.’ He had clearly had a little something to drink.

An echoed voice piped up ‘And Bobby!’

‘Yeah and Booby.’

‘Hi?’

‘ANYWAYS! How ARE you?’

‘I’m okay, I’m a-uh, a little tired I gotta say.’ I stifled a yawn and looked at the clock on the wall that read 2:35AM on it.

‘Oh God, yeah, I’m sorry about the timing. Ol’ grumpy cat wasn’t going anywhere fast and then there was this game of beer pong I just HAD to win a-‘

‘Scott, not to be rude, believe me, but, can I ask why you’re calling me at two thirty in the morning?’

‘Right, right. Yeah. Okay, it’s just…’ I rubbed my sleepy face as I waited for him to speak. ‘Do you know what’s up with my brother?’

I immediately halted my hand and furrowed my eyebrows and asked him what he meant.

‘We’ve taken to calling him “grumpy cat” because no matter what we do, that kid has about as much humor as a plate of cold fish.’ They both snickered again at what I assume was their new nickname for him.

‘Oh.’ Was all I could manage.

‘Have you guys had a fight or something? I’m not asking what about, like, I’m not trying to be nosy, but anytime we’ve mentioned you or been like, “why don’t you call Adrian, she might cheer you up”, we pretty much get the most “fuck off” look imaginable. SO I just wanted to be brother of the year and see if I could twist your arm in making up with him if you guys are in a tiffy.’

I was literally speechless. I didn’t know what to think about first: What I should say to them or what they were saying to me. Why hadn’t he told them he’d broken up with me? This was so awkward and upsetting all at the same time.

‘He, um, I,-’ I didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t something I should have to explain, especially not to his drunken brother and best friend at three in the morning.

I was still at a loss for words when I heard them start up whispering, interrupting the silence by telling each other to ‘shut up, shut up, someone’s coming.’

And then I could hear a door open.

‘Is that my phone? I should’ve fucking guessed you two assholes would have it.’ A male voice complained sarcastically, his voice getting closer and louder with every word. It didn’t take a genius to work out who it belonged to..

‘I, um, need it still.’ Scott covered and I had a mental tug of war to decide whether or not to just hang up or stay on the phone and listen to the ensuing chaos.

‘For what? Your phones fine?’ A sound, almost like scratching, hit my ears and I could tell I was being put inside a towel or something as voices began to muffle.

‘I didn’t realize we were still twelve. Come on, I’m not in the mood. Gimme it.’

‘No.’

‘Why!?’

There was a silence and even I found myself holding my breath.

‘What did you do?’ He asked firmly. ‘Scott!?’

It was then I knew I had to put the phone down. As though it were on fire, I ripped it away from my ear and pressed the end call button, panting slightly from all the breath holding. I felt like I was in trouble even though I hadn’t been the one to do anything wrong..

I noticed in hindsight that it had been Chris’ number on my screen when it first rang but I hadn’t paid any notice to it. Knowing now that it was, I wondered if I would’ve answered it…

No sooner had I asked myself the question, did the option arise again. This time, I watched as Chris’ name appeared on my screen and I could feel my whole body shiver, mostly in anticipation but with a smidge of irritation that this was how my night was going.

For the second time that night, against my better judgment, I picked up the phone.

‘Yes?’ I answered tentatively.

‘-lucky if she- Adrian?’

‘That’s the name on the screen isn’t it?’ Cheap shot but I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t a child and this wasn’t a game that I wanted to play.

I could almost hear his inaudible wince on the other side. ‘Right.’

‘Chris, if this is some kind of joke or something, it’s late, I was asleep, I-’

‘No! Adrian I promise you, I didn’t have anything to do with those two idiots calling you. I really didn’t.’ He emphasized the “idiots” with a louder tone, so I could only imagine the two night bandits had left the room.

I lent my back against the headboard as I switched ears; aware that a tiny part of me maybe did want him to have had a hand in contacting me.

‘Then why are you calling me now?’ I whispered, suddenly remembering that I had neighbors and that they probably didn’t appreciate noise at this time of night.

‘Because, I wanted to apologise for those morons waking you.’

‘You could’ve just texted me…’

‘I know that.’

We didn’t speak for a second, both acutely aware and mostly relieved that the other wasn’t making any attempt to end the conversation or hang up.

‘What did they say to you?’

I smiled a little. ‘Nothing much…’ I relayed. ‘… grumpy cat.’

I could hear him audibly sigh. ‘Great, awesome, wonderful.’ The way the sarcasm in his voice wavered told me that he was maneuvering to sit down.

‘Why are you a grumpy cat?’

‘That’s a silly question to ask Adrian. You’re just about the only person who knows the reason.’ He stated, his sarcasm withstanding.

‘Hey, you don’t get to be snarky with me. You’re not the one who got dumped in the middle of the street and then woken up in the middle of the night to have it all dragged up again!’ Even in a hushed whisper, I could give as good as I got!

‘I know, I know… and if it makes you feel any better, I’ve felt like a giant asshole ever since.’ His voice had grown quieter and I found myself really pushing the phone against my ear to hear what he was saying.

‘Yeah, well, I was an asshole first.’ I countered. ‘So, I guess it was deserved.’

‘You weren’t an asshole Adrian. You were scared.’ He stated understandingly. ‘We all do things we.. regret, when we’re scared.’

Now that did bring a smile to my face. So he didn’t hate me, good start. As much as I was savoring the fact we were back on speaking terms, I didn’t want to get into it over the phone. So I took charge and changed the subject.

‘Have you seen the response to the commercial?’

‘Not with my own two eyes but Jake has been on the phone constantly. Pretty crazy huh?’

‘You can say that again. Can I ask, how the hell did you get away with this whole, time off-not promoting thing?’ I inquired. ‘I fly to LA in a week’s time to start shooting and I somehow have to fit all these Gucci obligations in between and I think I might just kill myself now.’

‘I did a tonne of pre-recorded stuff.’ He answered before quickly reverting back to what I’d said lastly. ‘Did you say you’re shooting in LA?’

‘Mhm. Eight weeks on location, cruising around, pretending to be Ben Affleck’s drugged up girlfriend.’ I had planned to tell him as a surprise but there was no point in withholding it now.

‘No way, that’s awesome Adrian! I’d fucking kill to work with Affleck.’

‘It’s definitely a step in the right direction, that’s for sure.’ I found myself smiling again.

‘Definitely! Hey, has anyone mentioned that Elle magazine shoot to you?’

I stared up at the ceiling, wracking my brains; although it didn’t take me long to come to the conclusion that if someone had mentioned an Elle shoot, I would remember it. ‘No?’

‘Ahhh, what’s it like to actually have people leave you alone on your time off?’ He joked.

‘Priceless Evans. Now tell me about this Elle shoot?’

I was playing with the fringe of my blanket when I realized I’d just called him Evans. Was that still okay? Was that weird now? It’d just, slipped out.

‘Yeah, apparently Gucci want us to do an exclusive spread for the fragrance to be featured in Elle. Or, something like that.. I was complaining a little too much to pick up on everything my agent was saying.’ He sighed.

‘Together?’

‘I’m not sure, he didn’t say.’

After a couple more minutes, I began to tell that we bordering talking just for the sake of talking and even though I could probably sit here for hours trying to get back into his good books, my little heart had had enough for one day.

‘Well, it’s now past three in the morning, so in the nicest way possible, do you think I can go back to sleep now?’

‘Christ, yeah, absolutely.’

‘Thank you kindly.’

‘Adrian?’

‘Mmm?’

‘I’m glad we had this talk.’

‘Me too.’

‘And.. I’m sorry.’

‘Me too.’

‘Buds?’

I smiled sadly to myself.

‘Buds.’

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A/N:  I have no words. I love you. I love you for staying, I love you for reading to the end of the chapter, I love you for even caring. THANK YOU. I will reply to ALL of the fabulous messages that people have sent me (and that 100% pulled me out of my writers block) a little later on today when I have a spare second.

NEXT CHAPTER - BY MONDAY. NO EXCUSES FOSLAD.

Also, I know it’s garbage, I know. I needed to do a filler chapter to be able to get a grounder of how everyone’s feeling and to set up the switch of locations. Grab your sunglasses, it’s LA time!

The firsts step in overcoming a problem is recognizing that you have one in the first place. 

Adrian knows what she wants now. And it begins with a C.. The trouble is getting what she wants. 

#chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine #chris fic #chris evans