#you: holly to soap

[psielapki]

@thehollyverse's   holly   &   johnny   soap   mactavish   /   unprompted

“We’re gonna play the shut the fuck up game, you go first. Your turn!”

                    𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴   𝘪𝘴   𝘢   𝘧𝘳��𝘯𝘵   𝘫𝘰𝘩𝘯𝘯𝘺   𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘴   𝘰𝘯   𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦   𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯   —   it's   somewhat   expected   from   the   youngest   to   be   a   little   stupid.   he's   chosen   to   be   the   comedic   relief,   to   be   the   golden   retriever,   to   be   the   chaotic   one   everybody   expects   to   cause   trouble.

                    141   needed   someone   like   this   :   soap   is   sure   price   took   candidates'   personalities   into   consideration,   knowing   they'll   complement   each   other.

                    because,   in   all   seriousness,   mactavish   isn't   stupid.   he's   one   of   the   best   snipers,   a   genius   demolitionist,   the   youngest   to   join   SAS.

                    and   yet,   holly   sees   him   as   yapper   with   head   empty   of   any   thoughts.   and   maybe   that's   better   —   she   needs   that   kinda   distraction,   and   so,   he   furrows   his   brows   almost   conedically,   feigning   offense.

                    ❝   hey!   that's   unfair!   ❞

                    soap   protests,   because   he   doesn't   like   this   game.   façade   or   not,   he   really   likes   to   yap.

[swordsandholly]

Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.

Total ditz to be precise.

But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.

Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?

Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.

Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.

Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.

Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.

After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.

[clonerightsagenda]

The gag where the kids don't understand what Flo means when she references a guy's sexy tattoos is funny but also I'm deeply concerned about what if any puberty education the feral children of haunted child soldier Britain are receiving.

[toomanywordsnllines]

Can i go a little crazy, a little insane, complelty funcking unhinged? But the song Hostage (by Billie Eilish) is such a Ghost/Soap song

Like especially from Ghost’s POV. I might go on an insane ramble, please stay on hold...

I wanna be alone Alone with you, does that make sense? I wanna steal your soul And hide you in my treasure chest

The first two sentences? already fucking gut punched me. Because first of all... loving someone so much that you want to share something that can be so sacred as alone time? Wanting to be alone with someone is something so... intimate... And that’s- that’s Ghost. He’s this being that preserves his alone time, because for him it’s fleeting and short. But for Soap? he wouldn’t mind losing it.

But it’s not really losing it, it’s sharing it, it’s giving him an opening to come in. See what’s inside. Share. It’s the though of Ghost loving Soap so much that he just wants to share everything, every moment with him. And then on the next two verses we have a part of Ghost that is a little more selfish no? Yes he wants to share evrything with Soap, but only Soap. He wants Johnny for himself and no one else. And i don’t think it’s in the possessive/obessive concerning way. But more in the way of a sad man that never had anything for himself... and for the first time in his life he has. So he wants to keep him-- his soul, the essence of his being-- safe, locked inside where Simon keeps his most precious things

(Can you see i’m slowly decending into madness)

I don't know what to do To do with your kiss on my neck I don't know what feels true But this feels right so stay a sec Yeah, you feel right so stay a sec

But then we have this feeling of loss, confusion and even apprehension. (persoanlly those are the feelings I’m getting the most from the first three verses)

Loss, because Ghost never had anything like this. So he fumbles and he messes up. He doesn’t know what to do with himself and with his hands.

Confusion, because he never had anyone get this close. So things as intimate as a kiss on the neck? A part so vulnerable for the human being being treated so gently?

Lead him right to apprehension and leaves him feeling untetered.

Questioning if this is true, or if it’s just another fruit of his imagination once again. Ready for the other shoe to drop. But, the reality is... he doesn’t need to know if it’s true if it’s real.

Soap is so careful with him. Treats him like a person.

So then we get to the last two verses of the stanza. Does Ghost know what he want’s? No he doesn’t. He tells himself this isn’t it But then his mind says yes. So he tries once. And then he tries again and yeah, this is it and he ask a second time.

And let me crawl inside your veins I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain It's not like me to be so mean You're all I wanted Just let me hold you like a hostage

And now to the stanza that made me start this whole thing

And let me crawl inside your veins I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain THIS TWO VERSES, YOU’RE HONOR ARE THE CAUSE OF THIS INSANITY!

I am a big sucker for when people describe Ghost’s love for Soap as this primitive need to merge with him, dig a whole right besides his heart and live there, content just by the presence of Johnny. To just become one. TO CRAWL INSIDE HIS VEINS.

And the second verse ties so nicely to Soap’s character. (it makes me feel unhinged)

Ghost is striping himself bare, showing all his insecurities showing who Simon is.

And the final step is to give trust. And it’s hard and it’s not something that he can give. He won’t. He shouldn’t. He can’t.

So he builds a wall.

And Soap being the demolition expert that he is demolishes it like it’s nothing.

No need for explosions just simple brute force is enough. Because that’s all you need to reach Simon Riley. Brute force. Because with it come care and resiliance to know more and see everything. But with push comes pull and so. Ghost is mean as a ways to protect Simon. Because Simon wants Johnny so badly. He’s everything he’s ever wanted. But having him is selfish. Simon tell’s himself that having Soap for himself would not be so diferent than holding someone hostage. In place against their will. It’s Selfish so he retreats. And where does that lead him?

Gold on your fingertips Fingertips against my cheek Gold leaf across your lips Kiss me until I can't speak

Well if this was a fanfic and not my descendence into madness I would say that it would lead to a conversation.

One where, between the before and after of Simon’s retreat, Soap does not relent in his affection. He doubles down, even.

And with that conversation comes the truth that... Ghost cannot be what he was once before.

And God with the most understanding and softest smile Soap says that it’s alrights

It’s alright.

Because Soap doesn’t need the Simon Riley before the Ghost, that’s not the man he’s met. Not the man he knows. He wants the Simon of now and, if... with his help... Ghost let’s him pull the pieces back together gently. Not fixing but creating something new, but perhaps more beautiful than before (Kintsugi).

Soap’s not here to fix, they’re both broken man. And it hurts Simon to know that he’ll never be able to give Soap what he truly wants. But unkowingly (for Simon only) Soap’s gold spread to him, through him, out and back to Johnny. Helping piece each other back together. So...Since Simon doesn’t know... he asks Johnny to kiss him harder. More. Until his mind can’t think and he can’t speak because this way maybe Simon can share something too. It’s acceptence.

Gold chain beneath your shirt The shirt that you let me wear home Gold's fake and real love hurts And nothing hurts when I'm alone When you're with me and we're alone

It’s acceptence and so when they have a break from all the war and the nightmares that is their job. They orbit each other and they spend what little time they have together. One inviting the other. Sharing what little they have... sharing a Home. Life is torbulent as ever. In the domesticy of it all Ghost starts to doubt himself again. And so he retreats.

Things get rocky. Ghost tries to cut himself from Soap.

He never doubts Johnny. Not now not ever. But he doubts once again if this, whatever they are, is truly worth it. Especially for Johnny. If what’s gluing him together is solely Johnny, what’s stoping him from falling apart after he’s gone. He’s almost proved right when he almost does. And from experience he knows how hurtful love is. But after having Johnny for so long. Sharing what little life he had with him. After all... that. It hurts. He can’t be alone anymore without thinking about Soap. Because Alone stopped meaning by himself and started meaning by themselves. It’s truly only... after you (almost) lose something, that you realise that you really need it, huh.

And let me crawl inside your veins I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain It's not like me to be so mean You're all I wanted Just let me hold you Hold you like a hostage Like a hostage

And while i talked alot about how this whole song is all through Ghost’s POV, this last stanza, gives me a little bit of the feeling that it’s both of them talking. Johnny also had to let a lot of his walls down to let Simon in. He also gave him the knife and the butter (I don’t know how the saying goes)

So

Simon apologizes

And asks for one more chance.

He gives it another try. Willingly. He’s tired of letting Johnny do everything. He’s already gotten closer. Broken his walls and touched him. Marked him for life. Claimed him as his.

So with stubborn determination Simon finally starts to accept this feeling with minimal guilt. He let’s Johnny hold him. Let’s him tangle himself how he wants. Let’s him get closer and closer.

He apologizes when he flinches and sometimes lashes out.

But Simon doesn’t berate himself for the intesity that he wants to love.

Soap-- Johhny. Is all Simon has ever wanted

So he accept him and he holds him closer, like he wanted to those many times.

And perhaps Johnny’s not been the hostage this whole time.

But Simon.

Ramble finished... beware my insanity I never went this hard on an analisys for a freaking pairing (just for you too see how fucking insane they actually make me) But here you go! Hope you enjoyed my maniac rambling

[true-psychic-texting]

Apple Shampoo part 4! I’ll update the story when and if I think of somewhere to take it but this is it for now!

As for how Raz fixed Hollis’s soap issue, you know how you can change her opinion of cilantro? After you do she says that it tastes like soap. That trait is genetic, which makes me think that she made herself like the taste of soap. So when you change the cilantro connection from “delight” to “disgust”, she stops lying to herself about the taste of soap. 

[hollythius]

ppl are insane on the dash tonight

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Secret: cbf!soap x f!reader

Johnny was grabbing the items out of his locker and packing up his backpack to meet you after school when his locker was slammed shut.

“Holly.” He gave her a sharp glance and she smiled.

Holly was part of The Mean Girls, the one who had stolen your bunny all those years ago, the one he called a daft cow and had no interest in even if she seemed to be interested in him.

Usually Jonny just ignored her, unless she was bullying you then he was stepping in to tell her to go away as politely as possible.

“Who are you going to prom with?” She wondered and he raised an eyebrow.

“You know who.” He scoffed and opened his locker again.

“Really? I thought you both were on the rocks.”

Johnny paused, his heart sinking and his stomach twisting up in knots. He didn’t think there was anything going on between the two of you but maybe he was wrong.

“What’re you talking about?”

“You two have been acting different around each other for a while now.”

He stared at her with confusion. There was nothing different between the two of you, nothing! You two still hung out all the time, still joked around and laughed…yeah maybe he stopped telling you about some of the serious stuff that goes on in his mind but that didn’t mean anything.

Did it?

“Look, we’re not friends but even I can tell that whatever’s going on between you has you a lot more quiet than usual.” She explained and he clenched his jaw. “Whatever’s going on she’s got you acting different.”

“Nothings going on…” he trailed and before he could stop the words were falling out his mouth. “I’m going into the military and she doesn’t like it.”

“Wait, you’re actually going?”

Johnny froze and swallowed hard.

He hadn’t told anyone, not even his own mother, that he had been accepted into the military. In just a month he’d be going into the military and starting his career.

He was going to tell you. He was just going to sit later rather than sooner. He had to come up with a way to tell you and to prepare himself for when you’d be disappointed.

And now he told Holly, the girl who had it out for you since fucking kindergarten.

“It doesn’t matter.” He slammed his locked and gave her a stern look. “Don’t tell her anything about this.”

“You know I wouldn’t be upset with for going into the military.”

Johnny felt disgust but said nothing as he walked away from her. He didn’t want to be with anyone else, he couldn’t imagine himself with anyone but you.

You were the only one he wanted, you were the only one he could imagine a life with in the future, despite your disapproval.

Maybe that’s why he put off telling you, he so badly wanted your support on his decision because it was the only thing that truly mattered to him. But it was hard to ask for it when he could hardly support you decisions, or lack thereof, for your future.

You didn’t have a plan, he knew you didn’t. For some reason it irritated him to no end because why didn’t you have a plan? Shoudlnt you want to have something to follow?

A bad part of his brain thought that you didn’t have one because you were hoping he’d give up on the military so you could follow him wherever he went. It was irrational but that’s what it looked like to him.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he nearly didn’t hear you call his name.

“Hey, you okay?” You wondered with concern.

You were always so good at reading him and he always had trouble hiding things from you.

Tell her, he demanded in his mind. Tell her now.

“I’m exhausted.” He smiled and let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “We should take a nap when we get to your place.”

You smiled and his chest hurt. He was going to miss that.

He was going to miss you.

“I’m glad you suggested it because I would’ve too.”

A/n: rewrote this three times HAHA love that for me

Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie

[vankaywie]

pairings : bigby wolf x gn!reader

tags : fluff , stinky bigby , uh I don't know

summary : helping bigby groom himself !!

an : SOMEONE REQUESTED I SHOULD MAKE A FLUFF OR A SMUT FIC OF BIGBY BUT I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT !!! also hiii, i am so sorry if I haven't been posting for so long, i had a writers block and basically lost motivation to do anything. i sincerely apologise😭 sorry if this is inaccurate bigby, i haven't played twau in a while and my memory sucks. also sorry if this isnt smut, i kinda wanted to do fluff... (theres an unfinished bigby smut in my notes) ANOTHER APOLOGY!! sorry if this sucks because i just wrote this and it's currently 4am..

you've noticed bigby has been itching his chin alot, he was probably getting uncomfortable on how long his messy stubble is. bigby has been incredibly busy these past few weeks so his hygiene was... a mess. so you took it upon yourself and decided to help him.

bigby comes home exhausted, immediately sitting on the couch to relax... he didn't even realise you were sitting next to him. "oh fuck—" he flinches slightly. "I didn't see you there, bub.."

a frown forms on your face. "bigby... you stink."

he raises a brow. "i am?" he sniffs himself.. good god that stench. "fuck—"

you forced bigby to take a bath, helping him wash his hair and his back, using your cherry blossom shampoo on him and your lovely soap so for once he'd smell nice. after that, you let bigby dry himself with a towel as you look for the razor.

"you're not going to shave all my stubble off, are you?" bigby chuckles, towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still soaking wet.

"oh, i will if you don't dry your hair and then get your ass on this chair." you threaten him.

he grumbles, drying his hair with a towel and sitting down on the chair infront of you. grabbing the cheap electric razor on the sink, turning it on. you gently hold bigby's chin, turning his head on an angle so you can start trimming his stubble. as you trim him, he looks at your face, admiring you.

your cheeks flushes as you feel his gaze. "don't stare..." you whisper, making him grin.

"and why shouldn't i?"

"it's distracting.."

finally, you were done. he checks himself on the mirror, satisfied at the results. "nice one, doll."

you smiled softly, putting the chair and the razor away. "thanks, bub. I've also washed some of your clothes, they're probably dry by now so you can wear 'em."

he placed a hand at the back of your head, slowly pulling you closer to place a kiss on your forehead. "you're the best."

bigby decided to have a drink at holly's bar, the trip trap bar. he was extremely stressed. but then grendell's ass started bitching at bigby, ranting about how much of an asshole bigby is... but then... "and that bitch [name] looking right pass me, then ushering me out the fuckin' door. who do they think they are to fuckin' kick me out?!" grendell groans.

the unbothered bigby suddenly whips his head to glare at the man, quickly standing up and walking towards grendell. "i wouldn't call them that." he growls, his hazel eyes turning bright yellow, hinting his transformation. "it's happened before and it doesn't end well."

a fight begun, both grendell and bigby transforming, beating the hell out of each others. bigby was clawing at grendell's back, and grendell was trying to shake him off. eventually, grendell threw bigby across the room, the wolf crashing down at the tables and chairs at the corner. "fuckin' pause!" grendell yells, panting.

bigby growls, sitting up from the floor and glared at the monster infront of him. "what?"

"why the fuck do you smell like flowers and shits?!—"

[mikichko]

141 x white reader recs? 👉🏻👈🏻

Hi nonnie 😊

I'm not going to lie, this ask bewildered me a bit! I wasn't sure if you were being serious or not since this fandom is basically 90% white. Going by those numbers I'd assume there's a plethora of white content for you to enjoy, love.

I can't imagine that an ask for recommendations of an demographic that isn't typically featured in reader inserts would stir you up so much. Right?

Regardless, I do truly love to talk about my favorite writers so here is a list of writers (in addition to the previously mentioned) whose work I absolutely adore.

In no particular order:

🍂 Early

Starting off strong with the individual that sucked me into this black hole of a fandom. I absolutely love Early's writing style and their focus on fat readers. I reread a ton of their works constantly! Currently The Space in Between is what I read at the gym when I'm doing my hot girl walk 🥰🥰 Ensnared me with this Current Fave: The Space In Between

🍂 PFHWrites

Following it up with the second cod blog I ever followed, give it up for P! I absolutely adore P's works and the thought that he puts into the creechurs 🐈 (P patented term) in his works. Writes incredible pieces for transmasc!readers that I absolutely adore Ensnared me with: No clue actually! I just think of P as this entity that one day appeared on my tumblr dash and whose work I've been in love with for ages (tbh it was probably porn but...) Current Fave: Binders and Boyfriends

🍂 glossysoap

Glossy, my beloved Soap worshiper in arms 💕 Glossy has an incredible knack for writing that's amplified by her vibrant personality and how much she uplifts other writers in the community. I adore her to death and am so glad we have such a great writer like her in the fandom Ensnared me with: Bloody Shame (kyle fuckers rejoice) Current fave: Pushing Boundaries

🍂 kyletogaz

Our wonderful beautiful Jess 🥰💕 Resident Kyle and F1 enthusiast I have suuuch a fun time reading Jess' works (even when she is emotionally destroying me ;-;) I have her post notifications on so I don't miss a single work :') Ensnared me with: Simon fixing your attitude Current fave: Sharing is Caring

🍂 swordsandholly

Holly's Cherry Bomb 🍒 series has me by the goddamn neck right now! I am actively choking as I type this out because of how fucking good it is. Her depictions of Simon in 'Double Date - Double Down' solidified me as a fan from the beginning Ensnared me with: Double Date - Double Down Current fave: Cherry Bomb

🍂 stellewriites

Stelle's wonderful personality shines through so brightly that when I followed her I didn't even realize she wrote. When the cognizant part of my brain finally kicked in and I finally realized she was a writer I berated myself for not reading her work earlier. So happy that I stumbled upon her and her work 💞💖 Ensnared me with: Amazing personality <3 Current fave: Choices Made in Anger

🍂 syoddeye

Sy is another writer who I just cannot remember how I came across them! Honestly, someone else probably reblogged one of their works and I fell in love with their writing style. Whoever it was I am immensely thankful. Sy makes works that are so marvelous my brain gets more wrinkly every time I read something of theirs ❣ Ensnared me with: It's a black box I'm so sorry Current fave: The Lift (this is lowkey my motivator before the gym)

🍂 dragonnarrative-writes

Dragon's works have got me foaming at the mouth. Another creator who I have no clue how their works came onto my timeline but all I know is that I am so thankful. Every one of their works is a treat akin to indulging in something ridiculously delicious. 💘 Ensnared me with: Autumn Embers Current fave: Autumn Embers (particularly Part 3A ;))

🍂 indigosunsetao3

Indigo was actually recommended to me under a post lamenting the lack of Alex Keller works! And boy am I glad she was because the way she writes about Alex Keller makes me rattle at the bars of my enclosure for this white man. Absolutely amazing content that I am so happy to have been told about her! 💓 Ensnared me with: Older CIA Alex Keller Current fave: Move In Day (Alex Keller fuckers rejoice)

I am missing so so so many incredibly writers who I adore as well but because of time constraints I didn't have time to include them. Honestly, I'll probably just keep adding this list and using it as a rec list!

This fandom has been blessed with so many folks who create marvelous pieces for readers across the spectrum. We're fortunate that writers have cultivated such an accepting space 💕

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 11

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

“How about dinner?” Steve asks as he stretches his arms above his head.

Your eyes wander the muscles of his arms, still bulging and round despite his age. He makes you feel lesser. You’re probably half his age and you’re all soft and cushy. You have nothing to admire. You scratch your scalp, itchy from the layer of sweat, and shrug.

Before he drops his arms, you catch a peek of his stomach. You look at the ground guiltily. You don’t even know why you were looking at him. It’s rude to stare.

“Sure, honey,” your mom answers as you follow Steve to the deck, “you been working so hard today.”

“You like barbeque?” Steve stops and nudges you with his elbow as you come up beside him. You shy away.

“Er, sure.”

“Oh,” your mom’s cheeks twitch, “mm, that’ll be nice. A little family dinner.”

You shrink down. You’re standing right there and she forgot about you. Or just doesn’t want you there.

“Ice cream for dessert,” Steve pats your shoulder and you wince again. He squeezes before he steps forward, “Holly, you okay?” He asks as your mother’s head tremors. “You’ve been sitting out here for a while. Maybe I could send you over something instead.”

“I’m good,” she insists, gripping the sides of the chair. She stands with an effort. She doesn’t look well.

“Alright, I’ll get stuff ready. Could use some help,” he looks at you. Your mother rubs her lower back and flutters he lashes in your direction.

“I can help,” she insists before you can answer.

“Really, Holly, relax,” Steve counters, “I know you want to help, but...” he pauses and reaches to grab her quivering hand, “you should probably just sit down.”

“Oh,” she looks at his grip before it falls away. “Yeah, I... you’re right. I’m... thanks.”

She sits down, uncharacteristically demure. You’ve never seen that in her. Any time you reminded her of her sickness, even unintentionally, she got defensive. Not this time. She almost looks sad.

“Come on, I’ll share my famous recipe with you, then you can make some for your mom,” Steve says as he waves you towards the doors.

You shuffle behind him, offering no resistance. You wouldn’t want to stay in case your mom chose to direct her shame at you. She won’t say it to his face but she won’t have any problem sharing her displeasure with you.

You leave your shoes by the door, overly aware of your surroundings. Steve’s house is clean and spacious. He might have just moved in but you suspect it’s as much his standards as the newness. He leads you into the kitchen and you stand awkwardly by the counter.

“Should wash your hands,” he goes to the double sink and grabs the dish soap, “come here.”

You near him, hunched slightly, and he squeezes soap into his own hand before aiming the nozzle toward you. You hold out your hands and he squirts the liquid onto your palms. The water scours from the tap and you wet your hands, forced to stand closer than you like as you lather up the bubbles. You scrub your nails and get between your fingers, making sure to get as much as the residue as you can.

You rinse off and he grabs a hand towel, offering it to you first before he takes it and dries his hands. He hangs it and turns to the fridge. That’s fancy too. The door is glass and you can see the contents without opening it. He pulls the door and reaches within.

You wait listlessly as he takes out his ingredients. You shy away as he moves towards you, opening cupboards to pick out seasoning, then bending to grab a bowl from below. He plunks the large dish on the counter near you.

“How about you make us a salad, sweetie?” He grabs several veggies from his horde and sets them by the bowl, “knives are right there.”

He points to the block then opens another cupboard. He takes out a spinner and sets that out as well. He has all these nice things and fresh food. Your salads come out of plastic containers or bags.

You rinse off a pepper and put it on the cutting board. You slide out a knife and stare at the veggie before you slice into it. You chop it in half and seeds spill everywhere. You frown as they stick to your fingers. You try to move the heavy wooden board but can’t budge it. Instead, you rinse the inside of the pepper then wipe the board with your hand.

“Here, let me show you a trick,” Steve turns and takes the knife, “Cut the sides,” he takes the yellow pepper, “like this.” He expertly trims off each side then cuts them into neat slices, turning them to dice into squares. You watch quietly and he turns the handle of the knife to you. “See.”

You nod and take the knife. Doesn’t matter much, the red ones already halved. You do your best to cut out the middle with all the seeds and slice slower than him, careful of your fingers. It takes you far too long to do the tomato, with no shortage of gushing juices, and the onion.

As you add them all to the rinsed lettuce, Steve adds some crumbled soft cheese and croutons. You clean up the remnants of your work and he points you to the metal bin. You step on the pedal and dumb it all inside. You return to the counter as he pulls out another bowl.

“Now the burgers, we got the meat,” he unfolds a paper package and dumbs the ground beef into the bowl, “bread crumbs,” he shakes the tin, “but most important is the seasoning.”

He takes each slender container, measuring out the powders and dried herbs by sight alone. He names them each but you can’t keep track. He caps the last one and spreads his fingers wide.

“Now the good part,” he proclaims and kneads it all together with his hands.

You watch his fingers work, deft and confident. He mashes in the bread crumbs and seasoning then holds up his messy hands.

“You can help with the next part,” he takes a handful and rounds out the meat into a patty shape. “Just like that. Think we’ll do what? Six or so? Might want seconds after all that hard work.”

“Okay,” you reach in and take the cold beef. The texture is unnerving. You mimic his own motion, rolling it into a ball then flattening it. He puts the first one on the plate and you add yours to it.

“You’re quiet,” he comments.

You flick your eyes up and back down, reaching for more meat.

“Not that it’s bad. Shy? I know we’re just getting to know each other. That’s cool. But I get it,” he says as he takes a handful, “you know, it’s really something the way you look after your mom.”

You nod then shake your head, “she’s my mom.”

“Yeah, but... not everyone... would,” he says. “You know, you should give yourself more credit.”

You grumble and put down the patty in your hands.

“Well, if I’m gonna be around, I wanna help out, you know? You shouldn’t be taking this all on yourself. It’s amazing you’ve done it so far but... you’re young, you deserve to have some fun.”

You press your lips and roll another patty. You focus on the task as you watch your hands. He sniffs and lets out a deep breath.

“One day, you’re gonna make some lucky guy a good wife,” he says, “so you might as well enjoy your free time while you got it.”

You blink, surprised by his suggestion. That’s a far way off, if it ever happens. You don’t really know what will happen... after. You only ever worried about today. Tomorrow can wait.

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

with cc by @ice-creamforbreakfast and @surely-sims!

everyone, i apologise for the quality of these pictures. truly atrocious. the moschino stuff pack is fired.

LILAC: So this is our first fashion feature where we spotlight a cc creator (or two). Hopefully it won’t be our last, but we know what a flake the Watcher is.

ARAMINTA: She has good intentions.

LILAC: Yeah, and we all know what the road to that Dine Out pack is paved with. Anyway, I don’t think we can entirely blame her for the screencaps this time. Dodo is maxed out on photography, Moschino pack, and this is the best you can do?

ARAMINTA: Quite. I can… understand photographs regularly being ruined by the flash when one is first acquiring the skill. At Level 5, however, the Watcher shouldn’t need to delete over half the captures from her screenshots folder.

LILAC: Plum right she shouldn’t. Anyway. Minta, what do we think of Poppy?

ARAMINTA: Oh I love it - and her! How about you?

LILAC: Well coming from @ice-creamforbreakfast and @surely-sims, I was expecting quality. What I was not expecting was just how versatile this set would be, especially considering that it’s based on a 60’s spy aesthetic. I knew that you’d find things you like but you’re the Pattie Boyd to my Anita Pallenberg. You’re Kensington Gardens while I’m more Haight-Ashbury. But these Daffodil glasses and this turtleneck from the Daphne set? Sweet - I mean, groovy.

ARAMINTA: Well-made clothes stand the test of time, regardless of era.

LILAC: Yeah? And with these two, you know that you’re guaranteed a great product. The Watcher’s downloaded like every single item of theirs to her cc folder.

ARAMINTA: Speaking of versatility, how did you find the cut?

LILAC: Perfect. As a curvier girl, I know that I always look amazing. But the problem is that CAS doesn’t always look amazing on me. This though? Actually does the deity that is Indya Drake justice - and that woman has curves like an Indy 500. The stretch test? These pass.

ARAMINTA: EA, take note. Your favourite item of the set?

LILAC: The Wolfsbane dress. In the black and white palette. And you?

ARAMINTA: The Larkspur dress. Absolutely timeless.

LILAC: And Dodo? I bet I know what yours is.

DODO: The Holly set. But I think I’d like it better on the floor.

ARAMINTA: Really, you should put it in the hamper - oh, Dodo!

LILAC: Well if that isn’t a ringing endorsement, then I don’t know what is. You may get your wish later, Dodo, but for now we’re taking these to the clubs.

DODO: Yeah? Have fun.

ARAMINTA: Oh, do come too!

LILAC: You won’t look out of place. In fact, Rosamund and I put together the perfect ‘fit for your new ‘dirty smelly hippy’ ethos.

DODO: Fantastic.

DODO: And I’m not smelly!

LILAC: Only because you have someone to help you with the soap.

DODO: Yeah, about that. I’ve kind of forgotten and need a reminder?

LILAC: Later, Tarzan. Jane is coming out with me, and so are you.

poppy was last sighted here & here. catch her if you can! dodo's clothes by @ice-creamforbreakfast

indya by the ever talented @cinamun. dodo is loaned by @akitasimblr (likely much to his regret)

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Hello, my little bumblebees!

Welcome to my tiny corner here on Tumblr.

You can find all of my works for multiple fandoms here <3

Here is who I write for and my request rules!

🐝─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ───🪻─── ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ─🐝

Events

Fi's Christmas Market ☃️

FI'S MEADOW PICNC ✨️💐🐝

Resident Evil

Leon S Kennedy

Series

♥︎ Lost and Found ♧ 1. 2. 3. (Complete!)

• you survived Raccoon City with Leon, but got separated and thought he was dead. After 6 years, you reunite with him on a mission in Spain, rescuing Ashley Graham. What happens once he's pushed back into your life all of a sudden?

One shots

♥︎ Raindrops falling on my heart ♡

♥︎ Random Leon headcannons

♥︎ Sleepy desperation ♡ (nsfw)

♥︎ Rocking the Tides 🌊 (nsfw)

♥︎ Renaissance!Leon headcannons 🩷☁️ (nsfw)

♥︎ Everybody loves Somebody 🫀

♥︎ Back to me 🖤

♥︎ Brick by Brick 🎄

♥︎ Tradition and Love 🌹

♥︎ Red Ribbon ❣️ (nsfw)

♥︎ Stuffed Heart 🧸

♥︎ Siren!Leon headcannons 🧜🏼‍♂️🐚

♥︎ All I see is Red ♦️

♥︎ The honey to my moon 🌬 (nsfw)

♥︎ The Kiss of a Siren 🫧

♥︎ Holly-what?! 🎬

♥︎ Taunting Ghosts 👻

♥︎ Won't go Home without You 🫂

♥︎ Fate - spin, measure, cut 🌙

♥︎ Tongue tied 🪶

♥︎ We fell in love in October 🍁 (nsfw)

DC

Jason Todd

♥︎ The Hercules to my Meg ♤

♥︎ Paper Rings 🩷

♥︎ Wrapped 🎁

♥︎ Rooftop Confessions 🌟

Bale!Bruce Wayne

♥︎ BATtrayal

♥︎ My precious Jewel ♧ (nsfw)

♥︎ Dating Bruce has his assistant headcannons

♥︎ Bruce secretly being in love with assistant!reader

♥︎ Bruce x assistant!reader 3 ♡

♥︎ Burning Touch ♠︎ (nsfw)

♥︎ Deck the Halls 🎻

♥︎ Diamond Rings 💫 (nsfw)

♥︎ Bruce taking your virginity ♡ (nsfw)

♥︎ PALentines day 💋

♥︎ Sweet as a Peach 🍑 (nsfw)

♥︎ Lazing on a Sunday afternoon ☁️ (nsfw)

♥︎ Bruce taking out his frustration on reader ♡

(nsfw)

Dick Grayson

♥︎ Nightingale 🕊

Call of duty

TF141

♥︎ TF141 w/ a chubby girl ♡

♥︎ TF141 getting a boudoir photo album as a wedding gift ♡ (nsfw)

♥︎ TF141 taking you on a picnic date 💐 (nsfw)

Captain John Price

♥︎ Northman!Price 🪓

♥︎ Aphrodite sends her regards 💋 (nsfw)

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

♥︎ tit man Johnny hcs 🤍 (nsfw)

♥︎ Mo ghràdh mòr 🩶

♥︎ Mrs. MacTavish's Remedy 🍯

♥︎ Highlands and Full Hearts 🌧 (nsfw)

♥︎ Bikes and Bees 🐝 (nsfw)

♥︎ Pumpkin Patch Lovin' 🎃

♥︎ Mirror, Mirror on the Wall 🪞

Simon "Ghost" Riley

♥︎ Simon relationship hcs ♡

♥︎ Simon Riley NSFW hcs ♡ (nsfw)

♥︎ Phantom of the Ball 🥀

König

♥︎ Königs German specific quirks <3

♥︎ Tale of the Tummy 🌸

Ghost

Terzo Emeritus

♥︎ Garden of Love ♡

♥︎ Phantom of my Soul 🌙

Stardew Valley

Abigail

♥︎ Knight in shining armor

Baldur's Gate 3

Astarion

♥︎ The sweetest Taste ♤

Linked universe

The Chain

♥︎ Home is where the Heart is 🌱

Misc.

♥︎ Aching Heart left there in the Cold ♡

🐝─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ───🪻─── ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ─🐝

There's more to come~

[swordsandholly]

On Hiatus

Navigation Below

Holly | He/They | 25

I love writing fat reader characters. No use of y/n.

Not currently doing taglists (sorry)

This is an 18+ account, MDNI if you do not have some form of age in your bio or pinned post you will be blocked

Writing

Ao3

Masterlist

Ghoap x Reader

Treat Me Gently (Because No One Else Will)

Across the Way

Poly 141 x Reader

Cherry Bomb Anthology

Fancy

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Double Date - Double Down | Ao3

Steel Magnolia

John “Soap” MacTavish

Little Death | Ao3

Keep It Casual

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Live in Five | Ao3

Drabbles

Mechanic!AU

Ghost x Plus Size Fashion Blogger | Bonus

Mother’s Day Blues

Visiting your southern family

MDNI banners by @cafekitsune | Banners by @the-aesthetics-shop

[syoddeye]

the christmas party

ceo!price x reader / smut free / ~2.8k words

A very belated Christmas drabble thing. Definitely not inspired by real life events. 👀 Featuring a fem!Reader x Price, background Ghost x Soap, and Gaz, the incredi-boss. Might fuck around make this a series, we'll see! Maybe I'll clean it up and throw it on AO3, too.

CW: alcohol, substance abuse (mentioned) inappropriate comments from coworkers

You came to expect drama at the company Christmas party. It was as traditional as the optional White Elephant gift exchange, the hired group of carolers, and the ugly sweater competition.

Last year, a 'mystery' baggie of powder and a credit card belonging to the former Head of Sales was found in a bathroom stall. Two years ago, it was the unexpectedly raunchy dancing between an engineer and a project manager you swore hated each other. Three years ago, a division head went home with someone who was definitely not her spouse.

You'd seen a lot in your tenure. The good, the bad, the ugly, the hilariously mortifying.

Coming up on your fifth year with The 141 Group, you were a rarity. Most folks job-hopped. More power to them, no shame in gaining good experience after a year or two to leave for greener pastures. The fact you stuck around labeled you a 'veteran', a cheeky if not sensational label, though there were times you certainly felt like you'd seen war. Acquisitions. Rebrands. Reorgs. Yeesh.

But life at 141 suits you. You are an executive assistant, a good one. It helps that your direct supervisor and the VP of Finance, Kyle Garrick, a fellow 'vet', was an incredible boss. He lets you work from when you need to, doesn't micromanage, and treats you like a person, unlike other execs. He had faith in your ability to manage his calendar, prep materials, book travel - in short, you organized his work life. In return, whenever some new hire got too fresh with you, all it took was one teensy mention in a morning meeting, and by lunch, the offending party had only apologies for you. Most importantly, though, the job nets enough money to make rent and let you pursue your hobbies.

With years of Christmas parties under your belt, you were looking forward to tonight's low-grade yet cataclysmic event. Pre-gaming and primping at a fellow assistant's house, Jordan, you clasp the silver holly leaf pendant around your neck where it lies just above your modest cleavage. The dress code was simply 'Christmas Color', another tradition. Formal attire was expected, if not an unsaid requirement, which meant slipping into a gorgeous dark green dress you spied weeks ago in a boutique window. You thank yourself for earning that last pay bump to afford it because you look fantastic, in your humble opinion.

Lacing her leather Oxfords, Jordan gives a low whistle when you turn away from the mirror. "Like a big, sexy pine tree."

You smirk. "Thanks. Remind me why we both couldn't wear red tonight?"

"Because of the two of us, red is my color. Do I not look like some kind of holiday vampire?" She asks, standing with a sweeping gesture down at her deep, red velvet suit.  

"More bellboy, but-"

"Rude!"

The two of you lovingly bicker all the way out to the awaiting car. The 141 Group, ever mindful of its image, always reimbursed rideshares for its company parties. Given the amount of liquor that flowed at these events, it wasn't only generous but smart. Like the higher-ups needed a scandal. The car ferries you across town to the ritzy event space at a local art museum. Leaving your coats at the complimentary bag check, you enter the well-underway party.

The events team needs a raise, like yesterday. The sprawling space was completely done up. Several open bars, a champagne wall, a photo op with a to-scale Santa's Sleigh, and dining tables with place settings that probably rival a monarch. Silvery white birch trees enveloped in lights line the walls, with clusters of small fir trees fully decorated dotting the space. The dancefloor was already busy with a DJ fully dressed as Santa.

Four going on five years, and it was still quite the sight.

You gently elbow Jordan. "So. Cheesy themed cocktails first or canapes?" 

"Obviously drinks. I just saw one with an ornament in it!"

~~

Three hours in, it was a dead heat for Most Dramatic Event. Two separate calamities slowly built throughout the night.

At the nexus of the first, Chad from marketing was almost blacked out. After winning the ugly sweater with a true abomination of a sweater (working lights, a mini speaker, and an ungodly amount of sequins), he celebrated. A little hard. He bopped from open bar to open bar as the bartenders cut him off one by one. He was trying to convince a coworker to grab him another Mistletoe Martini, and it was progressively getting louder.

The second was from the rumor mill more than anything. Apparently, a developer named Scott brought the wrong gift for the exchange. As the story went, his wife used the same paper for an identically sized gift, one of a titillating nature, and now he was visibly paranoid that he nabbed the wrong one on the way out the door. The man stalked the pile of gifts as folks drew numbers.

Jordan bet on the first, and you bet on the second. From the corner, you watch, giggling behind a cup of Prancer's Punch.

The sound of your name drew your attention. Kyle, in a charcoal gray suit with a sleek snowflake tie bar and green tie, approaches with a Tiny Tim Collins in hand. Though you waved hello earlier in the night, he spent most of the evening in the company of who you deemed his 'buddies' - Johnny MacTavish, VP of Technology and Jordan's boss, and Simon Riley, the Chief Security Officer. You learned in your first month to leave the trio to it. 

"Having fun, are we?" Kyle grins and turns to observe the twin events. 

"I love this party. Every year, delivers just like Santa," Jordan gleefully said.

"Someone should stop them," You add, knowing nobody would. At least not Kyle.

And as if on cue, the man chuckles. "Not my circus, not my clowns."

The three of you chat, swapping bits of office gossip collected through the night. Not the most appropriate, but not the worst social crime, surely. You're the right amount of tipsy: warm and relaxed but solid.

The wager came up naturally.

"What do you want if you win, my pine tree?"

"Hmm. It's gotta be something outrageous but not a fireable offense. Hmm. Maybe I'll have you sing on a video call, pretend you thought you were on mute or something."

"...That's boring."   

"Do I want to know?" Kyle asks, sipping his drink. 

"We have a bet on who's gonna be this year's drama - Chad or Scott." You explain.

"Maybe I ought to get back…" Your boss said with a laugh. "Better not witness to whatever you two plan." 

"Might be for the best. Night, Kyle," You accept the brief hug from the man, then poke a finger against his chest. "Listen, if I get one DM about work during the holiday, I'm switching your coffee to decaf."

Kyle claps a hand over his heart as if he's been shot. "Monstrous. Fine, have it your way, no work during Christmas…Now, behave yourself, both of you." 

Watching him retreat back to MacTavish and Riley (who look quite cozy - perhaps another piece of gossip?), Jordan nudges you. "If I was into guys, that's who I'd be into."

"You and like fifty other people here," As Kyle's assistant, you're more than his Girl Friday; you're also a professional gatekeeper. You could wallpaper your apartment with the amount of cringy notes you've stopped from reaching his desk. 

"Not your type, then?" 

You whip your head back to Jordan, utterly horrified. "No way. Not that Kyle isn't an absolute dreamboat; he's just not my dreamboat. Plus, at this point, it would be so, so weird."

Jordan laughs. "Y'know, even though we've been work besties for a year, I don't think we've ever discussed this. What is your type? As dudes are not my specialty, I have no clue."

Your type, huh? As if you don't know. Your type's been the same for as long as you can remember. Big and brawny, the kind of guy who could haul you around. Dark hair. Well-groomed, well-dressed, well-endow–You could still make it onto the naughty list. 

Using better and cleaner terms, you relay this information to Jordan. 

"Huh. A man's man. Whodathunk–oh! Oh shit, look who it is!" The other woman pats your arm and gestures with a nod.

Joining Kyle and his buddies, is none other than John Price - CEO of The 141 Group. Fashionably late (very fashionably late), yet another tradition. Adorned in a Santa red suit jacket and a matching red tie, he somehow makes the boring dress code dashing. Flanking him is a pair of bodyguards. He's just in time for the wager to come to a head. 

God, he looks good. 

As Kyle's assistant, you see John fairly regularly. Not that he sees you. No one above a certain pay grade sees assistants. You kind of just blend right on in. Not even Mr. Riley, whom you've been introduced to a dozen times by Kyle himself, recalls your name. When you tag along to meetings to take notes for the boss man, you assume you're on the same level as a lamp or plant. That doesn't mean you haven't ogled John Price before. Kind of hard to not to, what with his commanding presence. You're kind of ogling him right now.

"Wow, you really do have a type," Jordan hums with a shit-eating grin.

"Shut up," You hiss into your drink and look away, just in time to see Chad from marketing lift a gift box-shaped ice sculpture and smash it onto the ground next to one of the open bars with a frustrated yell. The poor bartender and caterers jump back, and the music scratches to a halt. A thick silence fell over the party, impressive for a crowd of over a hundred, and your eyes flick to Mr. Price.

He glares daggers in Chad's direction, then nods at the taller of his bodyguards. Without hesitation, the man crosses the event space toward a petrified, drunk-crying Chad. As the guard hauls him away, your coworker, or former coworker, you assume, bursts into ugly tears and then disappears from sight. But your eyes are still on John, whose gaze turns to the DJ. The music starts again, as does the chatter. 

"Fuck yes," Jordan giddily whispers. 

"Well, shit."

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"...Unfortunately, yes. Yes, I do," You sigh and down the rest of your drink. "Before you swing the axe, let me grab another punch."

"Hurry back, I've got my thinking cap on," Jordan impishly smirks. 

With a groan, you make your way to the nearest open bar. One far from Chad's little tantrum. Most folks are on the dance floor at this hour, leaving this particular bar quiet. Waiting in line behind other tipsy coworkers, a clearing throat behind you grabs your attention. 

"D'you have a recommendation?" A low, gravelly voice from all your best dreams asks. 

You turn, and the sweet Hallmark-worthy image that blossomed in your mind in the last two seconds promptly morphs into a nightmare. Not a running-for-your-life nightmare, but a you're-the-only-naked-person-in-class nightmare. Laughable, considering the topic of conversation not three minutes ago.

John Price stands tall behind you, arms crossed, testing the fabric of his red suit jacket. He smells like tobacco and something spicy, and his eyes are a shade of blue you hadn't noticed before. You never got this close. They narrow slightly, and you realize you haven't answered him.

"Prancer's Punch." The name sounds cornier aloud.

"Hmm. Brandy or rum?" He sounds unimpressed. Was he unimpressed?

You're quicker to answer this time. Except, you babble. "It's, uh, made with dark rum. It's delicious. I've had a few. The cranberry juice isn't too tart, compliments the sparkling wine and–It's good."

Santa, run me over with your reindeer.

Kyle would be humiliated to have heard all of that. You are humiliated for having said all of that.

To your surprise though, the corner of John's mouth hooks in a smirk, then he chuckles. "How many qualifies as 'a few'?" 

You, apparently committed to acting moronically, answer honestly. "Five." 

It gets you an actual laugh this time. His hand raises up to scritch at his cheek, flashing the band of a watch you're certain is worth more than your life, then juts his chin forward slightly. "You're up, miss."

"Oh, no, Mr. Price, I insist, please-" You start to sidestep to let him up in line, but his hand lowers immediately and stretches out to stop you. He doesn't touch you, but the hair of your arm stands up at the proximity. 

John smiles again, and his head tips toward you. "I insist. Join me, Miss…?"

"Mr. Price?" A voice suddenly interrupts. The taller bodyguard that removed Chad steps up and steals away Mr. Price's attention. "The problem's been dealt with. Regarding…"

You don't hear the rest of the conversation because you hurriedly ask for a punch and bolt back to Jordan. 

And Jordan saw everything. Your heart is racing, and you miss half of her teasing. 

"You made him laugh. Twice. I don't think I've ever seen him smile, let alone laugh." 

"Because I basically admitted to being drunk!"

"Calm down, you're not, you're solid," She reassures. "Besides. You saw that death glare at Chad. If he was upset, I reckon you'd be on the receiving end of one of those."

You groan and take a swig of punch. You hope you've had enough of the good stuff to burn away the memory of your embarrassing rambling. You look back to Jordan to say something and find your friend once again grinning devilishly at you.

"I just thought of what I want for my victory."

Any time, Santa. Put me out of my misery.

"What?"

"So…You know #AskPrice?" 

You know where this is going, and your eyeballs nearly bulge out of their sockets. "Jordan. Please. No. Do not make me post something stupid there." 

#AskPrice was the name of the open channel at work. Anyone across the company could post questions for Mr. Price to answer. More often than not, it was a venue for bootlickers and kiss-asses to rain praises and share bad proposals. Rarely was there a legitimate question or a good idea.

"Darling, of course not. I have something far funnier in mind," She started, and you swore you saw the flames of hell itself in her eyes. "You're going to direct message Mr. Price and ask what he wants for Christmas." 

Jaw, meet floor. "Absolutely not!"

Jordan laughs and hooks an arm around your neck, pulling you in. "Come on. It's harmless. Believe me, I considered making you send a selfie or asking if you're on the naughty or nice list."

"He could fire me!"

"For what? It's just a question! He always says we're welcome to DM him."

To be fair, Mr. Price did say that at the end of every company-wide call or in email announcements. He always harps on 'transparency' and 'open channels of communication', hence #AskPrice. To your knowledge, however, no one ever takes him up on that, at least at your level.

"Jordan…Mercy. Please."

"My sweet pine tree, you lost fair and square," She releases you and pats your shoulder. "If it makes you feel better, I bet he gets a thousand messages a day. The notification will get lost in the noise."

It doesn't take much more prodding and encouragement from Jordan. Your phone ends up in your hand, and you tap into the chat app. Your hand shakes a little when you pull up John's username and open the message dialogue. 

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas?

Short and to the point. Jordan calls it 'boring', but you're already putting your neck on the line for a stupid wager. You're not risking anymore by dressing it up. Bet fulfilled, you press send, quickly turn notifications off, and shove your phone back into your little purse. Jordan rewards you with a squeeze to the shoulder.

"That was terrifying." You whine.

"That was a rush. Come on. Let's dance." 

~~

The next morning, when you're all but molded to your couch and housing takeaway, there's a little ping from your phone. It's the chime of the chat app.

"Kyle, for the love of everything, it's Sunday–"

You nearly drop your phone.

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas? > World peace. > I'd settle for a drink, though.

[icarustypicalfall]

Right now

drabble, describing cod men in one word.

warnings: fluff, slight angst, not fully proofread bcz m tired:(

note: tysm for all your sweet wishes, ilysm. this one for you. i know i wasn't here much. srry about that.

masterpost • ao3 •

<3

Simon Ghost Riley

tired.

he is tired. Ghost, a mere void, a lost soul trying to find it's purpose again. despite the flame and the determination, he still holds a deep gush from the past nothing can ease. Nonetheless, he doesn't let it affect him. Everyday, he shoves the thoughts to the back of his mind, deciding to rethink them all one day.

He thought that day won't come till he met you. It would take some time, the healing path is long. Might as well hold his hand tightly.

Gaz

underrated.

He is never enough. No matter how much he puts in the work, there is always a tid missing. It consumes his sanity and leaves him countless nights hopeless. The dark circles he earned are from late workout sessions, long training outside the field. He thought he'd end up being the best, he was left to nothing.

You picked him up, dusted off his clothes and shared with him a cup of tea. He didn't say much, though his silence was louder than any words. He was grateful.

John Price

old?

It didn't affect him much, people's words were nothing to him, yet he wished he met you when he was younger. He knows he isn't exactly old. But he isn't young neither.

This absurdity left him in a foolish state. Sometimes, he'd even push you away, before crawling again in your arms. Whispering apologies mixed with meloncholy. You hugged him tightly, promising to be there till the end.

Soap

Peaceful.

He might've be unserious sometimes, but at heart, he has a dream. He reminded himself of that purpose consistently, trying his best to fullfil his desire for peace. How funny, a soldier wishing for peace? He thought about it for years, slowly realizing it was impossible for him.

You proved to him peace isn't about your surroundings, but about your heart.

He never felt more seren than after he slid that ring in your finger, in front of all his friends and family.

Alejandro Vargas

Passionate.

He loves, and when he does, he commits; Holly, utterly, with his very being. But, it hurts when he puts his trust in the wrong person. He was hurt, bruised, betrayed countless times. The scars on his body and the wounds in his heart a proof to the pain he held all those years.

It was until he met you, he realized what love is. The colonel fell to his knees, shedding tears of unspoken woe he held. You were there to ease his pain.

Rudy Parra

Quiet.

He is silence, a peaceful madness, an angry ocean, a loud thunder striking. He never lets his anger blind him. He was silent, collected, counting every step he takes. Silence was sometimes too loud. Sometimes, he wished he could vanish, dissaper in a beat and never come back. When his time comes, he wishes to be buried in your smile, where he can find eternal peace.

Phillip Graves

Vulnerable.

He never knew how to be, he thought being a commander means he should be collected, stoic. He buried his feelings, fears and doubts inside. Letting them accumulate till it overflew, leaving him in disaster. He shattered after a failed mission. And, for the first time, he let you pick up the pieces, putting him together like a broken vase. You looked upon his baby blues, letting peace wash over him.

[riaaanna]

‘Brian’s grandkids call me "Nana Neet"’

Anita Dobson on her favourite festive memories, finding fame overnight and why she’s a homebody at heart.

Anita is step mum to Brian’s three children

The festive season is fast approaching, and it wouldn’t be Christmas without an onslaught of feel-good films. While many of us will no doubt be sitting down to watch Nativity, Love Actually or The Holiday, there’s a new corker coming this year too. Entitled Christmas at the Holly Day Inn, it’s a family-friendly, multi-generational romantic comedy about an over-achieving executive who quits her job just before Christmas and goes to her father’s country inn to try to find some balance. Her father is played by former Dr Who Colin Baker, while his love interest is played by ex ‐EastEnder, Anita Dobson.

“We all need dreams and a bit of magic in our lives, don’t we?” Anita (74) tells Yours. “This film is perfect for the festive season. I’m playing a lovely character called Molly, who runs a café in the village where Holly Day Inn is situated. She has a soft spot for Ben, played by Colin Baker.”

Back in the real world, Anita – or Lady May – is looking forward to sharing Christmas with her husband, Queen guitarist Brian May (76). She’s also excited to spend time with his grandchildren – and his children, James, Louisa and Emily, from his marriage to first wife Christine Mullen.

“I thoroughly enjoy being a step-grandma to Brian’s seven grandchildren,” she tells us. “They range in age from late teens down to about five. They call me ‘Nana Neet’ – Neet is what friends and family call me.”

Anita and Brian live in rural Surrey, but the star grew up in London and she says her most memorable Christmas was when she got a red bicycle. “I must have been about seven,” she recalls. “I’d desperately wanted a bike – a few of the other kids in our flats had one, but mum and dad didn’t have much money. I couldn’t bear not knowing if I was going to get one, and I needed to prepare myself for disappointment, so in the early hours of Christmas Day morning, I crept into the living room to see. There it was by the tree – my red bicycle. I can’t begin to tell you how thrilled I was. I went back to bed and when we got up, I pretended it was a big surprise.”

It’s hard to think of Anita and Christmas without recalling her iconic episode of EastEnders on December 25, 1986. Her character Angie Watts was served divorce papers by her philandering husband, Den, and the drama pulled in an extraordinary 30 million viewers. “If you do something that captures the imagination the way that EastEnders and Angie and Den did, you have to be proud of it,” says Anita, who recently starred in Doctor Who and a new series of Inside No.9. “I’m very proud of it. Thirty million viewers? Not bad, is it!”

Anita and Brian with family at his investiture earlier this year

While Angie and Den were famously fiery on screen, Anita says she and the late Leslie Grantham got along famously. “There was an instant rapport,” she says. “Leslie was amazing to work with because we never discussed it. He used to say, ‘Your mouth shuts, mine opens. My mouth shuts, yours opens.’ We knew exactly how to cover each other’s backs. It was remarkable.

“Playing Angie completely and utterly changed my life. I went from 0 to 100 practically overnight. Before EastEnders, I’d been a jobbing actress for a long time and then suddenly this gift of a role landed into my lap. Everything changed.

“The lady who ran the corner shop near where I lived in the real East End told me the bloke who lived across the road from me had been given a camera by the press and instructed to take a picture every time I opened my front door. I couldn’t believe it! It was like a rocket had taken off and I just had to hold on and wait until it landed.”

Which it did – to a certain extent – when Anita (74) decided to leave the soap in 1988. Her legacy lives on, though, and these days she says she is lucky enough to pick and choose her jobs.

“I don’t tend to do theatre tours which would mean me being away from home for prolonged periods, because I love where we live and our house and I want to spend lots of time there,” she reveals. “I always said that I would leave this life ‘in harness’ – as in still acting – but now I’m not so sure. I don’t plan on retiring but it’s true that these days, I only take jobs that interest me.”

Christmas at the Holly Day Inn is released November 6, 2023 on various streaming platforms.

From Yours magazine November 2023.