hollywiston

[hollywiston]

happiness | drabble

The bakery had been very busy. So busy in fact that Holly hadn’t had chance to think almost all day - a strange occurrence for her considering that her brain very rarely knew when to shut up. She hummed to herself as she boxed up orders, sang along out of tune to the radio playing in the background, and delighted in sweeping up the dust and debris on the floor at the end of the day. There was no particular reason for her good mood, but then she could put it down to many different things. Business was booming, that was always a good thing. Her next book was coming along a real treat, she had her structure down and the plot was weaving itself together nicely with no real hiccups. Her editor was happy with sales on her existing novels, and there were murmurs of a movie adaptation of her first book, but nothing concrete just yet.

All of those things were wonderful, but Holly knew what was really responsible for her happiness, or whom, rather. He would make an appearance in the bakery in about ten minutes or so, always there for her at the end of a long day. She didn’t know how she coped before him - well, she did of course, because she’d always been very self-sufficient - but rather, she didn’t know how she’d coped without that little leap her heart did every time she laid eyes on him. 

The bell above the door jingled, and Holly turned on her heel with a huge smile on her face. There was the reason for her blissful happiness - Roman Barnes.

#drabble. #idk what else to tag this but i had muse and now here we are!

[hollywiston]

I love her.

#holly with the youths lmaoooo #𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 visage #i really have holly muse today and i might write something?

[hollywiston]

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 visage #the EYEBROWS

[hollywiston]

romanbarnes​: 

roman hummed a vague note as he plucked up a smaller tool and carefully carved out another detail. “yeah, maybe you’re right about that,” he said, his voice a little vague as he focused his attention on the pumpkin. “i mean, you know i can’t decorate a cake to save my life.” the few times he’d tried had been - well, roman wasn’t prone to hyperbole, and he’d feel pretty confident using the word disastrous to describe the results; it was a marvel holly still loved him after his crimes against pastries. his eyebrows quirked up as he caught sight of her craning to see his work, making a show of using his arm to further shield the pumpkin though he smiled to show that it was in jest. “again, i will neither confirm nor deny. and i don’t know about you, but i came here to have a nice night with my girlfriend,” he replied primly. 

“all right, all right,” roman capitulated with a laugh, putting down the knife and grasping holly’s hand to pull her closer. “what do you think?” he asked as he looked down at the jack-o-lantern and then up at holly, eager to hear her feedback. he’d depicted a classic haunted house complete with crashing lightning and paned glass windows, with a few special touches to make it theirs: cerberus shielded the manor like the guard dog he very much wasn’t in real life; pastries had been left to cool on the creaky wraparound porch; and an easel was propped up on the overgrown lawn. “and as a disclaimer, this isn’t me asking you to move to the suburbs,” he added with a smirk. 

“I’m still determined to teach you though - I’ll make a star baker of you yet, Roman Barnes, you mark my words.” Brandishing a tool in mid-air, Holly couldn’t help grinning at him. Her attempts to teach him so far hadn’t been hugely successful, but Holly Wiston was nothing if not determined. Failing that, she was a firm believer that if something tasted good then it shouldn’t really matter how it looked. Her over-the-top peeking had provoked a delightful bout of laughter from Roman, laughter which caused her heart to skip a beat or two. “Mmhm...I can definitely smell an ulterior motive.” She teased gently, knowing full well that Roman would appreciate the playful banter.

Holly scooted around to his side of the table, hand clasped in his tightly. A gasp escaped her - surprise was the wrong word for it, it was a far more joyful sound - and she clutched her free hand over her mouth. “Oh wow, Ro. It’s amazing! Holy...sheet cake.” She not-so-deftly avoided swearing at the sight of how incredible his carving was. It was so intricate, and even though she’d teased and joked about him getting a first place rosette, she wished that she actually had one to actually give to him. “Is it weird that I would absolutely move into that place right now if you asked me? Creaky walls and all.” 

#thread: roman #𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 interactions #🥰🥰🥰 carrying this on even tho halloween is over

[hollywiston]

romanbarnes​: 

roman’s lips curled up even further at the sight of holly’s wide, easy grin. he’d never even stood a chance from the moment he’d first seen that smile, but there were no regrets on his part, even if letting someone in had been utterly terrifying at first. beyond his comprehension, everything had led them here, to lazy mornings and date nights and seasonal couple activities straight out of a rom-com - ones that roman wasn’t too proud to admit that he enjoyed immensely. hell, he’d probably have fun doing anything so long as he was accompanied by the petite dynamo known as holly wiston; she had a way of making him smile and laugh no matter the circumstances, brightening the world around her just by being herself. on bad days he still wondered just what the hell she was doing with him. 

his eyebrows quirked as she trailed off, wondering what exactly she was assessing over on her side of the table. the woman was an absolute whiz when it came to pastries - surely those skills were at least somewhat transferable to squash-carving. in any event, his curiosity was piqued. “i bet you can, hols,” he said, unable to help the undercurrent of fond laughter in his encouragement. “show it who’s boss. after all, you’re the one with the knife,” he pointed out, holding up his own tool for emphasis. “i’ll neither confirm nor deny,” he hedged, looking down at his own jack-o-lantern-to-be. as usual he couldn’t help but fixate on the flaws in his work, but he was surprised to find that overall he was pleased with his progress. roman shrugged, looking back up at holly. “taste is relative, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, et cetera, et cetera,” he deadpanned.

“True, true. You’re right. I’ll do my best...” Her tongue poked out of the side of her mouth as she surveyed her pumpkin carving skills once more. “Decorating a cake is one thing but carving a successful spooky face into a pumpkin feels like a different game altogether.” Holly reached out to add a few more careful cuts, finally getting that pesky eye to look a little better. Another smile appeared on her face - proud of the fact she was getting somewhere. Holly rested her own tools down this time, palms laying flat on the table as she pushed up on to her tiptoes, trying to sneak a peak at Roman’s carving. “Translation,” she replied with a knowing smirk, “it’s a complete masterpiece and your pumpkin is going to completely blow mine out of the water. You didn’t come to play, did you, Ro?”

Her nails drummed gently on the table as she slowly began to move around it so she could actually sneak a peak for real. “Are you gonna let me see so I can give you the first-place rosette now?” Never in a million years did she think she’d be able to persuade Roman to entertain the countless activities and seasonal date ideas she had up her sleeve. It really was like something out of one of her novels, and the fact he was willing to play along and actually seemed to enjoy it meant the world to her.

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 interactions #thread: roman

[hollywiston]

romanbarnes​: 

@hollywiston

holidays had never really been roman’s thing. maybe as a kid he had enjoyed all the trappings and livery, but that had been a lifetime and a double funeral ago. as an adult he quietly prided himself on not being a grinch and purposefully ruining anyone’s festive fun, instead choosing to forsake museum christmas parties and take different routes to avoid getting caught up in the thanksgiving day spectators. far be it from him to rain on anyone’s parade - figurative or literal. 

but now -

well, now he had someone in his life, and she seemed determined to show him the magic in each and every day the calendar marked as observed. and - well, she was succeeding more easily than roman’s pride would allow him to admit. but part of him wondered if that was what he’d been missing all these years: someone special to share them with. and if holly wiston was anything, it was special. 

the corner of roman’s lips twitched as thoughts of holly somehow broke through his concentration, and he blinked a bit dazedly as he took a slight step back from the pumpkin he’d been carving for - well, he didn’t even know how long. he’d gotten just as absorbed in it as he did when he painted, the perfectionist in him wanting every detail to be just so. he carefully scrutinized his work for a few moments, but movement from across the table caught his attention and he set his tool down to smile at holly. “how’s it goin’ over there, baby? gotta be easier than picking it up was, right?” he remarked, a teasing edge in his voice. 

.

Creativity with words came so easily to Holly. Creativity in other aspects of life, however, not so much. But that was never something that would stop the powerhouse of positivity that was Holly Wiston. No matter how terrible her carving skills were or how many mistakes she made, she’d still be proud of her handiwork once she was finished. She and Roman had been working in companionable silence for the past half hour or so, probably the longest Holly had been quiet all day, and she bit her tongue lightly in concentration, trying to make sure that the eyes of her pumpkin were sort of even. One was definitely bigger than the other.

Her focus was broken when she heard Roman set his tools down on the table, lifting her gaze to meet with his and unable to stop herself from smiling. She would never tire of giving him all of her biggest smiles. “Right now, I’m thinking that picking it out was easier! It’s uh, it’s going...” she trailed off as she surveyed her handiwork so far - no mouth, one eye significantly bigger than the other, maybe that could be a feature? “It’s a little bit questionable right now, but I think I can make it work.” She scrunched her nose slightly, then laughed, meeting Roman’s eyes again. “How about you? You got some kind of epic Van Gogh masterpiece going on over there? I bet you have, haven’t you?”

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 interactions #thread: roman

[hollywiston]

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 visage #holly being BESTIES with his dog

[hollywiston]

EMILIA CLARKE Pål Hansen ph. for the Observer | June 2022

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 visage

[hollywiston]

romanbarnes​: 

roman barnes had learned something about himself this evening, a harsh and unfortunate truth with which he was still struggling to come to terms: he was incapable of sleeping with his eyes open. 

maybe it was because he could never actually relax, constantly on alert for the covetous gazes of various unmarried women and the unnerving habit certain ladies had of appearing right next to him as if they’d magicked themselves there. yes, it was probably the anxious adrenaline that kept him from sweet, merciful, unconsciousness. why else was he still awake despite having been cornered by the host of the party, the spectacularly uninteresting philip harrington? roman forced himself to tune into the conversation - please, who was he kidding, monologue - for a few seconds, and abruptly shut his attention back off when the elder man was discovered to somehow, even after almost a quarter of an hour, still be fixated on the topic of acidic levels of soil. despite the man’s glaring lack of interesting anecdotes, he was a boon in that he kept everyone else - regardless of gender - away, and he didn’t even seem to expect roman to actually participate in the conversation. 

still, roman nodded along in some pantomime of being an active listener and took a sip of his drink more as an excuse to look out at the rest of the party than anything else, wondering to himself for the hundredth time just what in the hell he was doing there when he could be boxing or painting or building a decoy of himself using philip harrington’s acidic dirt for the next ball he somehow found himself attending. 

“would you excuse me just a moment?” he deadpanned, cutting into the other man’s soliloquy. philip blinked, almost looking surprised that roman was even still there, before nodding and replying, “but of course.” he had specifically chosen his current whereabouts for the proximity to the garden doors, and once philip had set his sights on a new victim roman easily slipped outside without notice. he sucked in a breath of fresh air, thankful that he seemed to be the only party-goer willing to brave the cool evening outdoors. his gaze traveled over the grounds, imagining how he’d capture the scene in a painting: the colors he’d have to mix in order to match the roses in the garden, the particular brushes he’d use to emulate the stone of the walkway. his gaze landed on the soil below the flowers, and a quiet laugh bubbled out of him as he wondered to himself how acidic it was. he dragged a hand over his face, giving another small chortle as he muttered, “dirt.”

.

Holly so loved a party. Any excuse to don a beautiful dress and socialise with people, although she didn’t much care for being showboated to the masses like a prize pony. The older she grew, the less attention she attracted, which worried her slightly. Living life as a spinster was almost a death sentence. It certainly put the pressure on when she let herself think about it too much. Being the eldest sibling didn’t help either - the judgement from others was far more scornful.

With the evening in full swing, she’d mingled an adequate amount, accepted a dance or two at odd intervals, and after being on her feet for so long, she’d decided that she needed a moment of fresh air. Holly excused herself from a conversation with her mother and sister Violet, and headed slowly over to the doors that would lead out on to the courtyard. She inhaled a deep, cleansing breath of air, closing her eyes as she filled her lungs - a small smile creeping on to her face. What was it about the summer evening air that felt so full of potential? It made her want to remain outdoors all night, favouring the stars and chirping crickets to any other potential suitors. 

Holly made her way across the terrace, quite sure that she was alone, but as she stepped down into the lower part of the garden, she swore she heard a noise. Laughter? Stopping in her tracks, she glanced over her shoulder to find a dark-haired gentleman standing a few metres away. He hadn’t appeared to have noticed her yet, so she cleared her throat gently, turning to walk back up the stairs. Surely it would be rude to simply walk away and leave him be? She had to introduce herself - apologise for intruding. 

“It’s nice to see I’m not the only one who finds my own jokes funnier than others’.” She said with a slight smile as she approached. She hadn’t heard what he’d said, but Holly could see the remnants of amusement still on his face. “I assumed I would be the only person out here,” she paused for just a moment, “although, it’s a beautiful evening. I’m not sure who wouldn’t want to be out here when the stars are getting ready to peek out of their hiding places.”

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 interactions #thread: roman #this slightly 'period' gif hunt is v bad - she looks really disturbed in almost all the gifs lmaooo #this one will have to do! #regency au

[hollywiston]

romanbarnes​: 

roman quirked an eyebrow at holly’s surprisingly bashful reaction, but he laughed through his nose at her quoting of lewis carroll, once again finding himself charmed against his will. lately he was finding it harder and harder to pretend that he was immune to her endearing quips not to mention that gorgeous face of hers, but a quiet, long-neglected little part of him wondered if that was such a bad thing. at her turning of the tables he clicked his tongue, the corners of his mouth twitching once again. “all right, alice, ya got me,” he sighed, “because in that case, yeah, we’re all mad here.” god only knew how many nights he’d spent painting instead of even trying to sleep, sometimes coming home after a fight only to plant himself in front of a canvas despite the late - early - hour, fatigue be damned. hey, he’d never claimed to be a paragon of healthy habits. he’d just figured holly would be a little better at taking care of herself - of practicing what she preached. 

he made an exasperated sound at what didn’t exactly sound like a genuine promise, but figured it was the best he could hope for when it came to her. “i’m holding you to that,” he insisted, pointing his spoon at her for emphasis. honestly, he didn’t know how she was even still standing: was it the residual sugar coursing through her veins, plain old stubbornness, or a combination of the two? “you’re watching,” he repeated, further losing his battle against smiling as his gaze lingered on her for a beat. “my microwaving technique is just that fascinating, huh?” he deadpanned. but a furrow soon formed on his forehead as he watched her redouble her efforts to stay upright, once again worried that she might fall. “steady there, wiston,” he said before he could think better of it, “don’t make me carry you to the couch.” he blinked as his own words sank in, a bit of teasing that had, rather uncharacteristically, hit a bit too close to the mark. to his vague chagrin he felt warmth rising in his cheeks, and he cleared his throat as he made a point to turn his back on her and retrieve another dish. 

her fingers made contact with his arm as he turned back to her, and he immediately stilled. touch had encompassed a pretty nebulous spectrum throughout roman’s life; his mother’s gentle hands ruffling fondly through his hair had given way to the dull but potent force of a boxing opponent’s fist connecting with his solar plexus. he hadn’t felt anything from the former end of the spectrum for quite a while, and it wasn’t exactly unwelcome - especially coming from holly. that probably should’ve scared him - and it did, a little, if roman was being entirely honest - but mostly he found that he just wanted to enjoy it. 

“all right,” he said, his voice reverting once again to that uncharacteristically soft tone. he directed his words to her hand, still unable to look away and resisting the impulse to thread his fingers through hers. “i’ll stay.” as long as you want. jesus, maybe even forever if you want. he blinked again, breaking the spell, and turned his gaze back up to her with a small, teasing smile and a hope that she hadn’t picked up on anything unusual. “but i will be making the tea, ok? you think you can stomach an american making you a cuppa, just this once? promise i won’t even make any boston tea party jokes.”

“Right? You’re just as sane as I am.” A smile crept on to her face and she nodded, pleased that he agreed about the spontaneity of creativity. “Oh wait, that’s not Alice…” Holly shook her head slowly, then shrugged, not able to conjure the name she was thinking of. Her mind was too cloudy for that. “Sometimes the brain just wants what it wants - in my case a blank sheet of paper and some half-baked ideas that need a little extra time in the oven.” She snorted a little giggle, amused at the analogy of her undercooked brainwaves slowly turning into idea muffins.

Holly continued to watch him, her gaze focused so unsteadily, but still with so much interest. “It really is. You’re gonna have to tell me your secrets. Maybe then I could start microwaving cakes?” She joked, of course, but then for a second was a little curious over the idea. “I wonder if that’s even possible? Aside from little mug cakes, of course, I know they’re possible…” she continued to ramble, fingers gripping on to the counter and keeping her upright. She swayed slightly, then steadied herself, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Roman. Was it bad that her first thought was ‘yes please, do carry me to the couch’? Surprisingly, she didn’t voice this thought aloud, but she was unable to fight an impish looking smirk on her face as she glanced over at him. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Barnes.” Was that worse than what she was thinking? Probably. It would’ve sounded slightly flirtatious, were it nor for the enormous sneeze she just about managed to catch in the crook of her elbow immediately after she’d opened her mouth. “Oh my god…” she groaned softly, “I think that nearly knocked me out.” 

She was okay though, determinedly okay, leaning over to place her (clean) hand on his arm as if he was about to up and leave that very second. Touching him in such a familiar way felt natural to her, despite the fact she didn’t think she’d ever done it. But then Holly was a very tactile person - hugs and squeezes were some of the many ways she communicated her affection. “You will?” For the first time that day, her eyes actually focused on something; him. Holly blinked slowly and nodded before smiling. “Good.” Her hand on his arm gave the gentlest of squeezes before she reluctantly let go. “I s’pose I’m gonna have to let you do that, aren’t I? Just make sure it’s nice and strong - nothing worse than a weak cuppa, I promise you. If it’s too much of a challenge though, you can make coffee.” She teased. Part of her knew she should really go lie back down, but a more stubborn part of her wanted to stay right by Roman’s side in the kitchen.

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 interactions #thread: roman #this is short but i hope it's okay!

[hollywiston]

Emilia and Ted being adorably goofy

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 visage #most holly post ever lmaoo

[hollywiston]

romanbarnes​: 

roman pressed his lips together to keep from smiling, nodding solemnly at her statement. he tended toward eight hours of sleep only as a cumulative total over two or three nights, but there was no way in hell he’d volunteer that information to holly wiston, big sister extraordinaire. “sage words, wiston. and i’m sure you always follow your own advice, right?” he asked pointedly. “never any all-nighters when you have a chapter due, or however it works?” he wouldn’t put it past her to dole out her wholesome wisdom while fully neglecting her own needs whenever they conflicted with those of someone else. that was just the sort of person she was, a saint ready and willing to martyr herself for the benefit of others - and, roman might point out, often to her own detriment. not that it was his business. not that he cared more than he should. nah. ‘course not….

roman frowned down at the bowl of soup he’d been warming up, holly’s words ringing more true than he would’ve liked. god knew he only ever did the bare minimum to keep himself alive - and he didn’t even have her excuse of taking care of other people. but even that was a double-edged sword, wasn’t it? holly had so many people in her life, people who loved her, and shouldn’t she want to take care of herself for their sake as well as hers? “guess you’re right about that,” he grudgingly admitted, directing the words to the drawers as he set about searching for the cutlery, focusing on the task instead of further confronting his own thoughts. he found the flatware and retrieved a spoon, his expression softening and even clearing at holly’s words. “well, it’s an honor just to be nominated,” he said. “i’m sure i’m sharing the stage with some illustrious folks.”

roman snorted, too busy with his preparations to notice what holly was doing. “yeah, no offense, but you’re about as far from wicked as someone can get. i think there is rest for the very much not wicked bakers of the world.” he only barely held back a sigh when he looked up to find her once again struggling to keep herself upright, once again ignoring the urge to take her hand - so he could lead her back to the sofa, of course. “really, wiston?” he deadpanned, raising his eyebrows. “what, d’you not trust me to keep from mucking about in the sanctum santorum?” he brought a hand to his chest, as if genuinely aghast. all right, he probably should’ve figured that someone being in her kitchen would’ve been weird for her, but he was doing his best to keep from making too much of a mess. and besides, she really should be resting. he told her as much, keeping a weather eye on her hand as it clutched the counter and only reluctantly returning to their banter. “maybe i do,” he intoned with a shrug. “i’m an enigma. i can get out of your hair, though, if you want - soup’s almost ready.”

There was a brief pause after Roman’s question. Of course, both he and Holly knew the answer to it - she apparently played by a different set of rules than everyone else. She cleared her throat quickly and dropped her gaze. “In the words of Alice Liddell herself, I give myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it.” Holly pressed her lips together before shrugging her shoulders as casually as she could manage. “Sometimes the muse just hits you at one in the morning and you just can’t stop typing…or writing…I’ve woken up with serious cramp in my right hand a few times. But you just can’t fight it. Or I can’t.” Obviously this made it okay in her own head for her to neglect very important needs, but deadlines were deadlines. “Aren’t you ever struck with artistic inspiration at inconvenient times, Roman?” For a slightly delirious woman she was managing those longer words in spectacular fashion, tripping over odd syllables, but the main gist was still there. 

“I am?” She may have forgotten what she was right about but she nodded anyway. “I am.” She repeated with more certainty. God, what was wrong with her? Had she eaten something funny? She never usually felt this bad when she was ill…this out of it. A smile soon reappeared on her face, focusing hazily on him as he searched the drawers for the things he needed. “Oh you are! You’re right up near the top where the most important of the important people are. I don’t just give those spots to anyone.” Holly wagged a finger, her gaze still fairly unfocused as she looked over at him. 

She couldn’t argue with him about that. Even Holly herself had to admit that there wasn’t really a single bad bone in her body. She was kind and good to a fault. “I promise I’ll try to rest soon…just, not yet, but soon.” Her grip tightened considerably on the counter, and it really was the only thing keeping her upright as she made her way over to him. “I didn’t say I don’t trust you, I’m just…watching.” She paused for a beat, brows furrowing, “what’s the sanctu-whatsit you just said? Like a…oh…” she fell silent again, trying to conjure the word she was thinking of that was escaping her. A word that she’d just partially said to him. Holly sighed, losing the will to chase it, and she waved her hand in a dismissive manner. It would probably come to her later. 

She really didn’t mind Roman being in her kitchen, in fact, she liked having him there. His presence was calming, despite the fact she wasn’t at all with it right now. But he was here, heating up soup for her and taking care of her - deep in her delirious little mind, she was so touched by the gesture. It really meant a lot to her. “Oh, no…” instinctively, Holly reached out for him, the hand she’d been using to steady herself against the counter was now on his arm. “Don’t go. Stay for a bit, if you want to? I can move my crap off the sofa so you can sit down.” She paused for a second. “I can make us some tea.” She couldn’t make them tea in the state she was in, but the offer was there.  

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 interactions #thread: roman #!!!! #ten thousand years later and here is my reply 🥰 #i have missed roman holliday a LOT

[hollywiston]

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 visage

[hollywiston]

romanbarnes​: 

roman’s brow furrowed as holly seemed to take a while to really register his presence - then again, illness aside, he was probably one of the last people she’d been expecting to find behind her door. he wouldn’t blame her if she’d been expecting one of her siblings, a friend - hell, even a different regular at the bakery. roman was still surprised by his presence, himself, after all. she immediately countered the claim, and he’d expected nothing less. he’d thought he was stubborn until he’d met holly wiston, her bright and cheerful demeanor seeming to carry a pretty damn strong obstinate streak. (and maybe it was one of the things he liked best about her.) he clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion. “yeah, no offense, wiston, but you’re not exactly the picture of glowing health right now,” he told her, nodding toward the death grip she had on the door even as a sudden urge to take her hand overtook him. he almost felt guilty that he’d been the catalyst of her having to get up, hoping he hadn’t disturbed her rest too much. 

“she….did, yeah,” he reluctantly admitted, hoping it wouldn’t cause dissension amongst the sisters. they had always seemed like such a close-knit family, all fond smiles and familiar laughter, and he would hate to get in the way of that. “and she was right. she also warned me that you probably wouldn’t be taking good care of yourself,” he added, as if that was a good enough explanation for why he’d run around the city to gather provisions before showing up at her door unannounced. he couldn’t help a slight smile at her disoriented but endearing hospitality, following her inside the apartment and helping himself to some space on the kitchen counter. “i’m ok with coming second to food,” he said, a teasing edge to his voice. “just glad i’m on the list at all, really.”

roman was quietly relieved when holly settled herself on the couch, glad to see her resting instead of trying to play hostess. he peered over at her as he unpacked the takeout containers, hoping she was comfortable enough. at her deadline comment he laughed through his nose, nodding even if she couldn’t see him. “yeah, i hear you on that. unfortunately yours are probably gonna be waiting a bit, because you need to rest,” he insisted. he laughed again at her next comment, a proper one this time, but his expression softened as he caught her gaze. looking away after only a moment, he murmured, almost to himself, “i don’t mind gremlin mode.”

.

“Lack of sleep can do terrible things to you. Let this be a lesson to you that you should always get your eight hours, Ro.” She replied with a nod of her head, as if that really justified her current appearance. Holly could only imagine how pale and pasty she probably looked. Sweat had clung to her forehead through the night, likely giving her an extra-sickly look. She’d spent many hours tossing and turning, hence the bird’s nest on her head, and she probably didn’t smell great. What an attractive sight to let him see. On any normal day, the thought of Roman seeing her without make-up would fill her with dread. It was no secret (to herself at least) that she had a teeny weeny, tiny, small crush on him that seemed to grow exponentially whenever she saw him. Naturally, she wanted him to see her at her best, and right now she was pretty much the opposite of that. 

“Ehhh...” Holly let out a groan, not really wanting to admit that her sister was right, but she was. “In my defence, looking after yourself is hard.” And there came the pout. The truth was, Holly was incredible at looking after others. Call her and she’d be there in a heartbeat with all manner of things to help. She was optimism bottled. And yet, self-care was probably one of her biggest weaknesses. In any hierarchy of needs, her own always came last because she knew she’d always be okay - she could weather any storm. “Of course you’re on the list.” She said it so matter-of-factly, like it was never a question in her mind. “The Holly Wiston V.I.P guest list would be nothing without you.” It was possible that her already non-existent filter would become even more non-existent as time went on. 

She’d expected him to follow her to the sofa, completely forgetting that he’d brought food with him. Holly slowly managed to sit herself upright, half-watching as he opened up all of the containers he’d brought and half-losing herself to another feverish moment. The word ‘rest’ snapped her back to reality. “No, no, I’m fine, honestly! I can...” she began to try pushing herself to her feet again, “...just one second...” great, now her legs weren’t co-operating, “...let me just...” she grabbed the edge of the coffee table and hauled herself up, taking considerable effort. “See? No wicked for the rest- west for the r- no...you get the idea.” She waved a hand dismissively once again as she made her way over to him in the kitchen, her finger finding the counter to grip on to for support as soon as possible. “Did you go out and get this food ‘specially for me? Or do you always carry spare take away food with you?”

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 interactions #thread: roman

[hollywiston]

romanbarnes​: 

roman currently found himself having a staring contest with a door - and losing. he’d been an object in motion staying in motion ever since he’d left the bakery, but a sense of uncertainty had suddenly descended now that he actually found himself in front of holly’s apartment door. it was his day off, and he’d decided that a pastry from his favorite bakery and maybe a conversation with a certain baker would be a pretty good way to spend part of it - only to be informed that holly was out sick. immediately he figured it had to be bad; she was always at red velvet no matter the circumstances, like she’d taken some sort of pastry chef equivalent of the postal service creed. he’d immediately left and stopped at a different shop instead….and then maybe a few others, too. he’d only finally come to a stop once he’d reached her door, setting the parcels down and wondering if he should just knock and run, leaving her to wonder who her anonymous benefactor was. because this was….probably weird of him, right? he liked holly, and considered her something like a friend, but how would she feel about his showing up at her place completely unprompted? he fought back a groan and rubbed his hands across his face, knowing he had to make a decision soon lest holly’s neighbors catch him loitering - or the food got cold. ok, yes, just knock and run. knock and run. 

he followed that first step just fine, but when it came to the second his legs simply refused to cooperate. they seemed rooted to the ground even as he cursed his body for this traitorous change of events. and then the door was opening and holly was there, and it was too late for him. but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it when he laid eyes on her; she was gorgeous as ever, but that objectively nice face of hers seemed to have been softened a bit by illness, and he had to resist a sudden and overwhelming urge to frame her face in his hands. 

“hey,” roman greeted, and for a moment his voice was so gentle even he didn’t recognize it. he cleared his throat, shaking his head slightly for good measure. “uh - hey,” he repeated in his normal tone of voice. “i heard you were sick, and - i thought you could use some soup,” he said, picking up the bag of takeout to illustrate the statement. 

It took a moment for Holly’s gaze to focus on him once the door was open, so she stood, bleary-eyed, for more than a couple of seconds just blinking slowly. “Hi Roman.” Was she hallucinating over him standing at her front door? Or, god forbid, in her cotton wool-brained state, had she messaged him? She couldn’t really remember, but she sincerely hoped she hadn’t done anything embarrassing. He uttered a greeting once more, so she did too, forgetting whether she’d actually just said hi to him seconds before or whether she’d imagined it. It was beginning to dawn on her in this very moment just how ill she might be. A fever possibly? The last thing she needed or wanted right now - that being said, who ever wanted or needed a fever? No one.

Holly tried to shake her distracting thoughts away, and her gaze rested on the take out bag he was holding in his hands before she looked up again. “Sick? Me? Nah, I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.” It wasn’t clear why she was lying about it. Some sort of unbreakable Wiston gene she was trying to convince herself that she had, perhaps? For a woman who wore her heart and feelings so proudly on her sleeve, Holly definitely didn’t like to appear weak in any way. “Did Vi tell you I was sick? Because sometimes, only very occasionally, she gets things wrong.” Her words continued to slur in a very feverish manner and she took a small step backwards to give him room to step past her and come in to her apartment. Of course she was gripping the door handle and holding on for dear life as she stepped back, praying she wouldn’t fall. “You’re welcome to come in if you’ve got food though. Food is always welcome. And you. You are too.” She managed a wonky sort of smile. Soup did sound good actually. So good. 

It suddenly occurred to Holly that she probably looked a complete state, still wearing last night’s pyjamas with her hair unbrushed and matted from sleep (or lack of it). As she pushed the door closed behind her and padded through to her living room, she made an attempt to flatten the bird’s nest on her head. “I’m sorry I look such a mess...looming deadlines, y’know...” She waved a hand casually and then collapsed on to the couch, head lolling back against one of the cushions as she felt the sweet relief of her limbs just going limp. “You’ve caught me in gremlin mode.” She exhaled a heavy sigh, eyes half-lidded as she looked over at him.

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 interactions #thread: roman

[hollywiston]

Emilia Clarke in Leeds on the set of Secret Invasion (January 2022)

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 visage #SHE WAS IN MY HOMETOWN #PLS #EMILIA

[hollywiston]

Being ill just wasn’t an option for Holly Wiston. Had she ever taken a sick day in her whole life? Never. However, today she was struggling to even drag herself out of bed. Her head felt heavy, her whole body weak and she could barely open her eyes. Miles had taken just one look at her this morning and insisted he open up shop and call Violet to help out, and Holly hadn’t had the energy to fight him on it. In her head, she figured she could rest for a while longer and then head down to the bakery in the afternoon, right as rain. Turning her head to look at the clock, Holly could see it was already past three p.m., meaning she wouldn’t be making it down to Red Velvet today. “Ugh.” She groaned. 

A knock on her apartment door roused her further. The bakery was still open so it couldn’t be Miles. Also, why would he be knocking if he had a key? Exhaling another groan, Holly rolled out of bed, using the wall for support as she trudged slowly over to the door. “Just a minute!” She shouted, which wasn’t in fact very loud at all and sounded slurred and incoherent. Keys, keys...where were her keys? “Coming, coming...” yet more slurred mumblings as she finally managed to get the door open, peeling her eyes ever so slightly open so she could squint at whoever was there. @romanbarnes​

#𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢 💖 interactions #thread: roman #hope this is okay bestieeee 🥰