Kisses, Ice Cream, and Admissions.
Summary: You and your husband skip out on an Oscars week party to go loiter in a grocery store. At the end of the night, you reveal some news you’ve been keeping for a while.
Pairing: Lin x Reader
A/N: I started this like five hours ago and I finished it really quickly. It’s an idea I’ve had for a long time, but I just today thought of tying it into Oscars week festivities.
ALSO, I did want to post something today because I wanted to tide you guys over. I said previously I was going to take part in the @hamwriters Write-a-thon, but I just found out that the week for the celebration is going to be filled with some exams, prior commitments, and traveling and I will no longer be able to participate. So, for the next two weeks, this will probably be the last fic I post. I thank you all for reading this and reading ANY of my fics - you’re all greatly appreciated. I’m terribly sorry about the write-a-thon. (I would queue up my fics, but they aren’t even written yet (yes, I procrastinate) so I just can’t participate at all.)
Warnings: Mild cursing, mild make-out scene, and general lack of knowledge about Oscars stuff
or if there even are Oscars week parties(??)
So, without further ado, enjoy this fic!
You felt like you were watching your life out of someone’s else eyes. You raised your eyes above the crowd that surrounded you and connected eyes with your husband. He caught your look at the same time and stopped mid-sentence to smile at you. The sight of his grin warmed your body, reminding you of the way you felt as a child in the summertime sun when it touched every inch of your being and made your soul giggle with giddiness. You vacantly returned to the complacent conversation taking place right in front of you, nodding at the right moments and laughing politely at the rest. It was another story in another place, part of your husband’s Oscars week parties. You’d happily agreed to accompany him on all of his trips, as you wanted to show him off just as much as he wanted to show you off.