flightless-angel-castiel

STARLIGHT [1980s Coming of Age Sci-Fi]

Dude this. Room to fit one more? :]

These Happy Golden Years: A Complex Family Roleplay

gasp look at us, we managed to be productive! _{plus with the gabe/oli gabeliver post coming along swimmingly}

These Happy Golden Years: A Complex Family Roleplay

Charlie Carrington & Eckhart Wolff

_{a collab with the wonderful @HalfOfLancelot}

---

---

---

---

“You little shit.” Charlie murmured quietly, squatting down to poke at his and Eckhart’s cat, Shoes, who decided to curl around one of his loafers. Of course. Those were her favorite to snuggle down in, shed cat hair in, even leave scratch marks on. Sure, it bothered Charlie, but he loved Shoes more than his… shoes, so he dealt with it. She was still a little shit, though. “One of these days, you’re going to disappear, and I’ll just tell Hart I dunno, she must of finally got sick of being fed and loved and left.” he spoke softly, since Eckhart was asleep on the other side of their studio apartment, and kept poking at the cat on her head in an attempt to annoy her, watching her tail start to twitch around. “I can return you to the pound we got you from. Don’t put it past me.”

Shoes gave a giant, teeth-showing yawn and stretched a paw up, batting at his hand without her claws extended. “No, don’t start that,” he scolded as Shoes mewled, stretching up to butt her head against his hand, and Charlie sighed. “I’d never give you away. I’m sorry.” he said, scratching behind the spoiled kitty’s ears. Shoes began to purr and Charlie gathered the Scottish Fold into his arms, quietly grunting as he did so. “Gaining weight, Shoes?” he teased, receiving a meow from the cat as he straightened up to carry her over to the bed. “Go sleep on his head instead of my shoes,” he whispered, dropping Shoes onto the bed beside Eckhart. Shoes immediately went to Eckhart to snuggle up and Charlie stood there for a moment, looking at the image they made. From the lamp he turned on on the other side of the room, it cast a pale light over Eckhart, and he found himself, for the millionth time, wondering how he was lucky enough to snag someone like this man. His fingers twitched and the urge to create a piece of art inspired by this man was strong. It would be a good distraction but only in a few hours, an alarm would be going off to wake them up. He didn’t need to get into a piece and refuse to leave it. It had happened before. What he should be doing is sleeping, but that was a struggle at the moment. He had been tossing and turning since he laid down, and to not possibly wake Eckhart, he finally accepted his fate and got up to wander around. Since he couldn’t let himself get lost in a piece, even a small one, he, instead, snatched up his phone from the nightstand table and took a picture. Too fucking cute. he thought as he quickly set the picture as his phone background before setting it back in its spot.

He began to wander back towards the living room but what had been keeping him up caught his eye. To an outsider, it’d look like an innocent letter, but it was far from that to him. Ever since he had gotten it a few months ago, he had found it hard to not think about. He went over and slowly picked it up, feeling the quality of the paper between his fingers, slowly unfolding it again. The creases caused from the folding were deeper, worse, since he had opened it a thousand times already, to fret and worry over the words printed on the creamy surface. He looked it over again before forcing himself to set it back down, opened. A part of him was excited to see his parents, his siblings and their families, yet there was a gnawing anxiety clawing its way through his body too. That had been happening since he had gotten the letter. He felt bad for Eckhart; he had been stressing over the upcoming vacation too much. The brightest highlight was that he and Hart would get time to themselves, something they needed plenty more of together. Not to mention, he had a pressing question to ask Eckhart, and he felt like being on vacation, in a beautiful setting like that, would be a good time to ask it. He hoped.

He turned away from the letter and glanced over at the bed. He needed to stop worrying so much. He hated bothering Eckhart. He padded across the wooden floor, grabbing something off one of the shelves of a bookcase separating the “living room” from the “bedroom.” He fell into a plush chair by a window, pulling the little handle down and opening it a crack. The night air came in, smelling of the city, but soon enough, the air was swirling with the smell of cigarette smoke too. Charlie sunk down into the chair, putting his mismatch-socked feet up onto the window sill, and blowing the smoke towards the open window. The tension in his shoulders bled out, and he let the cigarette dangle between his lips as he laid his head back against the top of the chair, eyes slipping closed. He would be on a plane, heading to the Winter Lodge, to see his disconnected family, in just a matter of hours.

“Hey,” a croak came from the pile of blankets and pillows and fur - just a slip of skin visible, rising and falling above the mountain of sheets. Eckhart rose, as did his cat who found comfort on the warm pillow behind him, and padded his bare feet across the studio’s wooden floors. “Mm,” Eckhart hummed, groaning low in his chest as he collided into Charlie. His hands pinched the cigarette from Charlie’s lips and flicked it out of the window, “No kisses if you keep smoking like that. Tobacco mouth isn’t pleasant.”

As if he hadn’t just described his distaste for cigarette filled mouths, Eckhart pressed a soft kiss to Charlie’s lips, and then another, more urgent one. He cooed softly to Charlie, letting their noses brush and their foreheads press while his hands tugged and feet guided them both back to the warmth. But not before he slipped the window shut, murmuring about cold New York air.

The guilt Charlie had felt at Eckhart awakening was drowned out by the contentment said man caused to spark in his chest, a growing warmth that spread and settled down deep. He made the smallest sounds of protest when the cigarette was taken from him, most of it wasted, but it was a nasty habit he wanted to kick anyway. If he had to kick it to keep receiving kisses from Eckhart, then that would be the best motivation to push him into doing it. He wanted to make a comment on Hart kissing him, after he said he wouldn’t, but he found himself, instead, growing lost in the contact being bestowed upon him, returning it with a small smile dancing at the edges of his lips. He sighed softly as he was made to get up, was guided back to the bed, but he went willingly. He knew Eckhart was ready to drop off again, and he needed to get there alongside him.

“Pay attention to me,” Eckhart demanded in gentle whispers, dragging Charlie down atop him - the cat already moving to curl next to two warm bodies, now. He let his lips drag across Charlie’s ear and down his neck to nibble at the soft flesh there. Every slow, languid press of his hands or his lips or the rumble in his chest that vibrated through Charlie demanded the latter’s focus. A gentle reminder to keep them both grounded, whether that’s in the smell of sleep and sweat or in the soft noise of Eckhart’s voice like static in Charlie’s ears. “Stop thinking,” Eckhart huffed just above a whisper, his fingers curling in the fine, black hairs that hung like a mop over Charlie’s head, “breathe with me; we got a few hours, yet.”

A sigh tore through Eckhart. “Listen to my heart beat.”

Charlie felt a swell of adoration form in his chest as Eckhart took care of him. He could feel a heaviness beginning to settle in his bones, causing him to sink into the warm body beneath him, all focus turning to Hart. He didn’t say anything, or make a noise, just closed his eyes and listened to Eckhart, following his direction. He let the smell and feel and warmth of Eckhart encase him, just let himself get lost in this private, gentle moment between them. It was times like these his mind slowed, that he could think the most clearly and feel the most relaxed. Only Eckhart could make him feel that way, and he would never be able to thank and love the man enough for it. He snuggled down into the warmth, one hand sliding over to gently scrub at Shoes’ head, his other hand sliding up and disappearing into Hart’s hair, just holding on gently. He broke his silence by letting out a small “mm ‘kay,” already beginning to drop off. Being like this made his body realize how tired it was; now that Eckhart had chased away the anxiety that had been churning and making him feel high-strung, he could do as the man said, and listen to his heartbeat while dozing off.

---

---

---

---

Four hours came and went, much like their sleep pattern that flight; a constant up-down of wake and sleep. Once their plane touched down, Eckhart tore through their carry on to snatch the two coats he’d packed inside. Even with Charlie’s fussing, Eckhart bundled him tight in the heavy pea coat and wrapped the orange scarf snug around Charlie’s neck. He finished the touch by shoving the ushanka over Charlie’s head and eyes and pulling the flaps to press a kiss to his nose. After bundling himself up, they immediately made their way to baggage claim and soon after into the thin, cold Denver air.

“Come on, let’s go,” Eckhart motioned toward the man waving a ‘Charlie Carrington,’ sign not too far from where they stepped out. The chill already bit down on his skin, leaving red impressions on his nose and cheeks. Regardless, he didn’t seem fazed, especially when Charlie questioned him about his baggage and he swept him off his feet.

Charlie almost cringed at the sight of the sign with his name. He felt like it was calling attention to him, but he was probably just overreacting. As usual, Eckhart distracted him, but it wasn’t in the most helpful of ways. He let out something akin to a squeak - though he wouldn’t admit to it - and threw his arms around Hart’s neck. It wouldn’t be the first time Eckhart had decided that randomly picking him up would be a good idea and… okay, Charlie liked it, but he didn’t have to act like he did. But, he made it obvious he did, by the way he tightened his grip around Hart’s neck and was completely relaxed in his arms.

A smile burned bright even in the overcast haze of snow as Eckhart carried Charlie toward their destination. “I’ve got the most important luggage of all,” he grunted, “man, you puttin’ on some muscle, Harley?” He gave him a wink before letting him down and opening the door for him, giving the chauffeur a little wave as he assisted the man with their luggage before sliding in next to Charlie.

Charlie didn’t want to tear his eyes away from Eckhart’s face, feeling his own lips twitching upwards at the sight of his boyfriend’s smile. He had the best smile; it transformed his face into something beautiful, not that it wasn’t before. Though, his lips twitched downward at Hart’s words, but it didn’t last long. He tried to not let a fond smile break across his face as he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, gonna look like you soon,” he deadpanned, also giving the chauffeur a little wave before willingly sliding into the limo. He adjusted the scarf around his neck, loosening it just a bit, since it was fairly warm in the luxury vehicle.

“Hey.” Eckhart looked serious as he turned to face Charlie. “Whatever happens, you still got me, okay? Your family matters a whole helluva lot, kid, and they’re worth a lot, but they’re not worth everything. Yeah?”

Charlie sunk back into the leather seat, glancing over at Eckhart when he said ‘hey,’ but then he looked over at him at his serious expression. He blinked at Hart’s words, and again, he wondered what he did to get this man in his life. It was like Eckhart could read his mind, knew his exact thoughts, and knew just what to say to ease his worries. He still felt nervous, it beating around inside him, but Eckhart was right. He stared at him for a few seconds before smiling, expression softening as he reached out to take Hart’s hand in his own. He rubbed his thumb along his knuckles, giving a nod. “Yeah.” he murmured, leaning over to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, lingering only for a moment before sitting back, squeezing Hart’s hand tight the whole ride.

---

---

---

---

Charlie found his eyes caught on the passing whiteness of snow as the limo drove along, hand not releasing Eckhart’s until the limo had pulled up to the big, grand Winter Lodge. He took a deep breath as he slid out of the limo, looking up at a place he could vaguely remember; he had been roughly around the age ten when he was brought here, and naturally, not all of the siblings had been present for that vacation. He had spent most of his time tracking down anything with the capability to write, before finding paper to doodle his time away. He had went outside a fair amount, though instead of throwing snowballs or making snow angels, he would attempt to create a snowman that was never a snowman, but rather a dog, or even a horse. The latter had been a horribly failed attempt that he just ended up falling into and laying there until he grew too cold and had to go inside.

He looked up at it and let out a breath, eyes almost crossing to watch his breath slowly disappear into the cold air. “It hasn’t changed much,” he mumbled, trying to ignore the way his stomach twisted in nerves. He was sure there were others who had arrived before them. Maybe they wouldn’t bump into them until he had some time to settle in. There was some part of him that felt excitement, sure, but a bigger part of him felt nervous and a little sick. You’re overreacting. he scolded himself, as he made a move to help with luggage, but it seemed the staff had been prepared for others pulling up; two people came out to help with the luggage, and Charlie felt himself frowning. The older he had gotten, the more awkward he had felt around the staff, over having people being paid to tend to him. It had never sat well with him, but he let them do their job, not wanting to interrupt or cause a fuss that would be pointless and rude, for that matter.

Instead, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to take Eckhart’s hand again, before he moved up the stairs to the front door, which was being held open. Of course it was. He should expect all the bells and whistles while here. He had been on his own for so long, grown independent alongside Eckhart, that he knew he was going to feel extremely uncomfortable with it. He was used to tending to himself now, and Eckhart; while they both took care of each other, they still took care of themselves, and he didn’t want anyone’s sole purpose being to wait on him. But, he knew to expect this while here, so he’d just suck it up and go with it. He entered the warm interior, letting out a breath and taking it in. It really hadn’t changed, at all, and he felt something clench in his chest at the vague familiarity of it.

“Mr. Carrington! You’ve finally arrived.” a maid approached him, with a kind smile on her aging face. Charlie didn’t recognize her, in all honesty, though he wasn’t going to say that.

“Oh, are-are we late?” he asked, a bit of strain in his voice as he let go of Hart’s hand to fumble with his sleeves to look at his watch, but he didn’t have to since the maid was quick to reassure him.

“Oh, no, sir! I apologize. It is just nice to see you all grown up, Mr. Carrington.” the maid told him, and now Charlie felt really bad for not knowing her name.

“Um, please, call me Charlie. Mr. Carrington is my dad.” he said a bit quietly, looking at the polished wood floor before glancing over at Hart. “This is Eckhart Wolff. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Very nice to meet you, sir. Shall I show you to your old room, then?” the maid - Charlie was really trying to remember her name - asked with a beaming smile. Eckhart grunted his greeting beside Charlie, putting on his best smile.

“Oh.” Charlie said, a little surprised that his old room had been kept intact, but what else would have happened to it? He knew his parents wouldn’t change much of anything in it. When the maid simply stared at him, he realized he hadn’t exactly answered, and jolted a little. “Shit, sorry- uh, crap, I mean, or, um, shoot. Okay, just. Yes, please, sorry.” he got a bit tangled up while speaking, feeling his cheeks flush at his stumbling and feeling the presence of a large hand settling on his lower back.

But, the maid obviously wasn’t phased, because she nodded without her smile faltering. “Your luggage should already be there,” she said as she began to lead the way. Charlie quickly began to follow, gazing around as they went, hand finding Eckhart’s without even having to look or fumble a little.

“Just act like this is another dinner with the parents,” Eckhart bent low to whisper into Charlie’s ear, squeezing his hand in a firm grip. Having traveled for most of his career, Eckhart knew these formalities as if he’d grown with them. Many of the high-strung hotels accommodated his team well, even in the less than savory affairs they tended to find themselves in - even Eckhart knew the embarrassment of waking up half naked, surrounded by a pile of regrets as awful as his hangover. Luckily, he knew his own limits and those events often found themselves few and far between.

Even if it didn’t need to be said, this trip had Eckhart on his best behavior. He just wanted to be absolutely sure of himself, especially for Charlie. He gripped his boyfriend’s hand tighter and let Charlie lead him forward. He could feel the anxiety radiating off of him and once they arrived with no stops or interruptions, Eckhart gave a curt thank you and waved his goodbye after she’d notified them of the welcome they had to attend down at the main parlor. The moment she left and Eckhart closed the door, he pushed Charlie to sit on the edge of the bed and snaked around him. Thighs bracketing Charlie’s hips, his arms came around to curl over Charlie’s stomach and leaned back slightly to let him fold into Eckhart’s chest.

Charlie knew there would be gatherings all throughout this whole thing, but being told one was coming up so soon in the main parlor made a spark of anxiety shoot up his spine. Though, he tried to his best to ignore it, instead thanking the maid - maybe he could manage to ask one of his older siblings, surely they knew her name - and feeling intense relief when the door was closed. Now it was just him and Eckhart, but that didn’t mean he could immediately relax. He still felt on edge, thinking of the welcome later, but that thought didn’t last for long. As usual, Eckhart was taking care of him, and while Charlie always felt guilty he needed it, he also knew Eckhart didn’t mind this one bit. Or else he wouldn’t do it, he wouldn’t had stuck with Charlie for so long, he wouldn’t had fallen in-love with him, of all people Hart could have. He immediately relaxed back into the wider body, hands resting on Eckhart’s covered arms, squeezing to feel the arms beneath the thick fabric of jacket and shirt.

“I’m proud of you, Harley,” Eckhart whispered, rocking Charlie forward into a more comfortable position, “You’re doing great so far. Things’ll only get better, okay? And if they don’t, I’m here.” He repeated himself, “I’ll be here, okay? It’s gonna take a helluva lot to get rid of me.” Eckhart continued to murmur, brushing his nose into Charlie’s neck and taking deep breaths of him, receiving a slight shudder from the man as a reward before Charlie managed a nod to acknowledge his words. A hand pressed to Charlie’s chest and Eckhart let their breathing sync up, felt his heartbeat in his palm.

After a while of winding down, Eckhart pushed himself back slightly and let his hands peel the coat off of Charlie’s back, along with the hat and the scarf. Once he got his own off and tossed them to the side, content to care for them later, Eckhart pushed Charlie forward with just a slight edge of force. His hands grasped Charlie’s shoulder and the fingers immediately found the tense knots that bound Charlie’s muscles tight. It resulted in a small groan coming from Charlie’s throat, his back arching much like a cat’s in his best attempt to push into Eckhart’s magical fingers, a silent way of asking for more. The methodical work of kneading those muscles, digging his palm into Charlie’s spine, feeling the other breath deep in relief aided in calming Eckhart’s nerves, as well. Cause hell if he hadn’t been fretting this trip; unlike Charlie, Eckhart just had an easier time of hiding it. Mostly for Charlie’s sake, but a lot of it was for his own well being. He didn’t like loss of control and wouldn’t forfeit it willingly.

Knowing they didn’t have much time left, Eckhart finished quickly and let Charlie fall back into his chest. “You all good now?” he smiled, pressing a kiss to Charlie’s temple, “if you want, we can just say fuck ‘em and fake jet lag to get in bed early for tonight. Though, that’d mean missin’ out on dinner…” After a beat, Eckhart smiled into the side of Charlie’s cheekbone, pressing half his face into Charlie’s hair, “that is, of course, if I hadn’t packed a few snacks to much on ourselves. I gotta watch my calorie intake, but I wouldn’t mind breaking a rule or two for you. And I got your laptop for Netflix binging. It’s up to you, sailor.”

While Charlie hadn’t wanted that to end, he knew it couldn’t last for that long, and he slumped practically boneless back against Eckhart’s chest. He closed his eyes, letting out a breath and laughing at Hart’s words. He didn’t answer at first, instead choosing to turn his head so he could brush his lips along Hart’s own. Though, he didn’t linger - it’d be shitty to get something started like that and have to leave - and instead slumped down so he could nuzzle his face into Eckhart’s neck, right underneath his chin, settling there. “Tempting. But really shitty, too,” he breathed out a laugh against Eckhart’s neck before kissing the skin there. “Honestly, I could legit fall asleep right now, but… it’s the first official gathering. Gotta be there for that.” while he didn’t want too, because Hart’s suggestion sounded like the best thing in the world, he knew he had to suck it up in this case. “But, maybe after a few anxiety-inducing and awkward dinners, I can fake illness and we can lock ourselves in here for the rest of the vacation,” he said lightly, hands taking both of Hart’s own, and beginning to gently rub his fingertips into the skin, just feeling the roughened skin, suddenly thankful he had this, that he had Eckhart. Obviously they both knew he was joking. He couldn't do that, even if a part of him might want too. So, for right now, he'll let himself concentrate on Eckhart, and try to not dread what was coming up too much.

Lunox Island (Can Love Survive?)

Ayyeee. I'm pulling a @polyatomicbeing and saying the same; I am working on a CS slowly, so very slowly so uh, expect one from me tomorrow!

Eden Gardens - Love Where You Live

*Shows up 32 years late to the party.*

Hey, guys. What's up?

@reiko

*shows up shortly after you*

omg i wasn't the only late one thank god ahahaha hello everyone.

Eden Gardens - Love Where You Live

❈ ❈ ❈

_{"The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery." - Mark Van Doren}
❈ ❈ ❈

❃ Name ❃

Fletcher "Fletch" Mark Stacey.

❃ Age ❃

27.

❃ Gender ❃

Male.

❃ Sexuality ❃

Homosexual.

❃ Job ❃

Kindergarten teacher.

❈ ❈ ❈

❈ ❈ ❈

❃ In-Depth Appearance ❃

Fletcher is the type of teacher the moms whisper about and sigh softly over. One mom has even whispered that she'd "climb him like a tree." Unfortunately, Fletcher had overheard that bit - he later realized he was supposed too - and had flushed a bright red from his forehead all the down his neck. It wasn't surprising a comment was made in reference to his height, since he does stand at what most would consider a towering 6'4. His height is noticeable, too. He usually isn't seen slouching his shoulders, or hunching his back, because he walks with a confidence that some people might envy. Shoulders back, chin up, Fletcher walks into a room and for some, it's hard to not do a double take. He walks like he has a purpose, like he has tackled life and tamed it, and that, in itself, can be attractive to witness. The only time he will hunch is when he's addressing his students, considering they are much shorter; but usually, if given the chance, he'll just immediately drop to his knees to put himself at their level. He doesn't like to "hover over" kids, he prefers being at their level. Another thing that helps his confidence is that he does keep himself in shape; with a membership to Shape Up, which he finds the fee totally worth it, he keeps himself a healthy weight, with abs and defined muscles hidden beneath his clothes. His skin complexion isn't quite pale, but it isn't tan either; rather, he can be called fair-skinned. That's not to say in the summer, he doesn't get a light tan. Depending on how often he does go out, he can gain a nice tan.

Fletcher has really nice hair, in all honesty. He doesn't do much to it. He just washes it, runs his fingers through it, and goes. But it always turns out nice and soft, with a healthy shine, and always stays where he wants it, it seems. Having a shorter cut with fullness at the top, his bangs are almost always pushed back off his forehead, unless he has just gotten up or it's a windy day. The color is a more blonde-brown, with it favoring more towards brown unless in bright lighting. As for facial hair, Fletcher tries to stay clean-shaven. He may let himself have a five o'clock shadow, but he never goes anything beyond that. Underneath darker eyebrows that thin out towards the ends, are some blue eyes that can be piercing with the right outfit and lighting. Set under a slightly thin, pointed nose are pink, equally full lips.

Fletcher's style falls more so on the high-casual end of things. Being a teacher, he has to dress nice, but he'd choose to dress really nice anyway. He may wear dark slacks and a sweater vest one day, and then the next, clean, fitted jeans and a v-neck shirt. He doesn't keep up with the latest trends, instead he just buys what he likes and what looks good to him. His closet is a variety of button-ups, nice jeans, sweater vests, light jackets, big sunglasses, pea-coats, sweaters, slacks, fashionable hats, dark dress shoes, and high-end pairs of boots. He enjoys every season, the different things he is able to wear in each, and doesn't have a favorite. His colors usually edge on the darker, neutral side of things, but he has a few bright pieces he loves just as much. Naturally, his workout outfits are not nearly as nice. Usually, they're shorts or sweats, with a loose t-shirt or tank top, and tennis shoes. Overall, Fletcher does have confidence in his whole appearance, and wouldn't change anything.

❃ Habits and Quirks ❃

► Fletcher is sort of messy. He needs help organizing and keeping things straight, he'll admit it. He's always losing important papers, or his car keys, or even his favorite coffee mug. He always jokes and says he'd lose his head if it wasn't attached to his shoulders. This isn't to say his apartment is trashy, but it can become cluttered if he isn't in the mood to pick up.
► Fletcher totally has a big bag of plastic bags, full of smaller ones, under his kitchen sink. He insists on keeping them because maybe, just maybe, one day they'll be useful.
► The same goes for glass jars too.
► Fletcher has a tendency to create noise, since he dislikes silence; be it by humming, drumming his fingers on a surface, or even popping his lips, he will do it. Never put a pen in his hand, or else he will start clicking the top of it without even noticing.
► Some people can return home and sit around in their outfit before getting into pajamas; not Fletcher. Right when he crosses into his apartment, he at least has to kick his shoes off and change his pants (or just lose them altogether), or else he won't be able to get comfortable.
► Beware - when Fletcher finds a new song he likes, he becomes a bit obsessive, and listens to it until he's sick of it. Give it a few days, though; he'll go right back to it.
► Fletcher keeps a bag of dog and cat food in his car, which is strange considering he doesn't have any pets himself. But he does this because he likes to stop whenever he sees a stray animal, and attempt to feed them. Also, he always keeps some cash on him, to give to any homeless he comes across.

❃ Likes ❃

▲ Kids - he wouldn't make it very far in his career if he didn't actually like children.
▲ Hot drinks - especially coffee, since it keeps him alive more often than not.
▲ Music - give him just about anything; he really has no preference, he just loves music. pop is his most often go to, though.
▲ Wine - he's the type to curl up on the couch after the day's work is done, with a glass of wine, and watch netflix; he has tried his fair share of wine, loves finding out what type of food it pairs best with, and can't say he has a favorite. though, there is more red wine frequenting his wine cabinet than anything else.
▲ Plants - since he won't let himself have a pet because of the care and expenses, plants seem like something more manageable; he has a few scattered around his apartment, sitting in window sills or in big pots beside a window.
▲ Emotional entertainment - some people avoid sad books, or horror movies, but that isn't the case here; he likes a good, emotional ride of any sort when it's caused by a movie, song or book. he's especially a sucker for anything romantic.

❃ Dislikes ❃

▼ Silence - he hates how still and silent things can become. he likes background noise, even if it's just the gentle pitter patter of rain against a window; just give him background noise. he has to sleep with his white noise machine on, or any sort of noise really, or he won't be sleeping that night.
▼ Negativity - he tries his best to be positive; sure, he gets bogged down sometimes, but he really hates it when someone, himself included, is being hard on themselves, or not feeling their best.
▼ Someone who thinks they're right no matter what - just don't even get him started. he can't stand people who will not listen to fact, or other opinions, and keep basically saying they are right.
▼ Impatience - he is far from impatient, and doesn't like when he sees others are being impatient, especially if they are being impatient towards him.
▼ Seeing anyone hurt, but especially children - being quite the compassionate person, he hates seeing someone hurt, or down in the dumps, and always wants to help if he can.
▼ Being alone for a long period of time - he isn't a huge social butterfly by any means, but he also doesn't like to stay shut in for a whole weekend with no human contact. even just going down to the grocery store and seeing a couple people makes him feel a little more at ease.

❃ Biggest Fear ❃

Fletcher didn't realize what his biggest fear was until a few months ago: of never having a family to call his own. A few things made him realize it: firstly, his job; the envy he felt at seeing a parent picking up their excited child had been going on for some time. Secondly, his age; he's a few years from thirty, and he isn't getting any younger, as he sees it. Thirdly, social media; seeing all his old friends, even talking to a few through messaging systems, has made him realize so many already have families, and all he has is his career. The realization had hurt, but it made sense for how he had been feeling lately. He would never quit his job, he loves his students something fierce, but going home to an empty apartment, without someone to greet him, is getting a little bit harder each time.

❃ Personality ❃

Fletcher has always been mature for his age. When he lost his mother at age seven, he had bounced back quicker than most boys his age would have. It wasn't because he had reverted into himself, or pushed all his emotions into a bottle and sealed it tight. It was because he had understood how it was affecting his father, and knew that to help him be less stressed out, he had to be strong. When his father started dating when he was eleven, he kept a level head, told himself that it was a good thing, that his father deserved happiness. If he happened to meet one of his father's dates, he was always respectful and kind. When his father remarried when he was fifteen, he had to step back and let himself get used to the idea at first. But, he realized it was a great thing his father was moving on, that he had found love and happiness in another, and accepted his step-mother into his life just as warmly. When he found out he had a new little brother, step-brother but brother still, he had been thrilled rather than put off. Having always been an odd one with enjoying younger children's company - since kids usually disliked younger ones - he had been excited to have a sibling. He quickly filled the role of protective older brother, and still hasn't grown out of that role. When he had his heart broken in college, rather than mope and think it was the end of the world, he picked up the pieces and walked on. He was hurt, of course he was, but he had refused to let himself linger on someone who would hurt him that badly to begin with. He has always been a person who lets logic dictate his actions, rather than emotion.

For this reason, Fletcher is a very calm, and level-headed person. He never jumps to conclusions, and rather, he looks at situations from all sides, and even then, he almost never takes a side. There's two sides to every story, after all, and he isn't going to point fingers and put sole blame on just one person. This makes him a very understanding individual. He is never one that's quick to judge, but instead, he's one to listen and try to understand the other's perspective. Perhaps this is where he can be called almost naive; he truly believes everyone has good in them, and that they just need someone to understand. That mindset has gotten him hurt before yet he hasn't let it go. He doesn't want to let the harshness of the world make him harden, or closed off to others. He wants to be open, wants to help others no matter what, and that's where he can be referred to as very compassionate. Certainly one to wear his heart on his sleeve, he doesn't mind putting it under the gazes of others, just if he can help at least one. Because of thinking like this, he is a very positive person; he's a very approachable guy, since he's usually appearing open and happy. Combine that with his driven attitude, and it doesn't take much for him to get something done once he sets his mind to it. Even if it takes a little longer than he had previously expected, he keeps positive about it, and pushes through the problem.

Now, just because he lets his emotions be known to the world, doesn't mean he lets them guide him in his decisions. Again, he's a logical guy, but he's also emotional; it's controlling those emotions and how he reacts to them is what he has mastered. While he is very open in this regard, he can honestly come off as shy. If someone engages him in conversation, he's sure to talk back, but during an exchange, he may give a nervous little laugh or a close-lipped smile while not quite making eye contact. This doesn't mean he will avoid conversation, he actually loves people, and he'll let himself be open, but he does get a bit nervous around people. Nothing extreme, or crippling, but at times, he can appear noticeably shy. He usually isn't one to start a conversation, unless he really wants to or needs to start one. When he does talk, though, he's respectful but isn't against cracking a joke or two that could be a possible miss rather than a hit. He can be a bit lame, since he likes pun, and the cheesy "knock knock" jokes. Maybe he's been around kids too long. Still, though, he's more of the type to sit back and observe, unless it's a school function, then he's up and mingling, but that's because around kids, he can come off a bit different.

Fletcher isn't a loud person by any means, he doesn't act out, he doesn't act immature. Unless there are kids around. Then he transforms into a loud, playful and even silly guy just to get a laugh out of the kids. It's obvious he chose the right career path, because his love for kids is plain. He doesn't mind making a fool of himself if it gets even just one kid to laugh. He might do this with an adult too. Not become a total playful fool, but do something so ridiculous, the other person has to laugh. Which is his goal, for if someone is feeling down in the dumps. If they won't talk about it, he backs off from asking about it, but he doesn't stop trying to make the other feel better. He can be sensitive, if someone just bluntly tells him to "fuck off" but he doesn't let that cloud his judgement, nor does he let himself get extremely upset over it. He always forgives the person, too, even if they don't say sorry; he never holds a grudge or brings up the negative past. As previously mentioned, he's good at controlling his reactions to his emotions, and he can understand when someone is having a bad day and is just done with all of life. This is where that bit of naiveness comes into play again. It's hard for Fletcher to wrap his head around that some people are honestly just mean with no reason, even if he has met a few like that, he will tell himself they're just having a bad day, and will regret being a dick later. Because of this thought process, he rarely gets mad or even mildly annoyed himself. He's the type who can take a deep breath, count to ten, and be clear-headed afterward if something is getting to him that bad.

Fletcher is secretly a romantic. While he put dating on the back burner of his life in favor of his career, he's a total sucker for rom-coms, those cheesy dollar romance novels, and laying in bed on his phone at night to read sappy stories of how real life lovers met. He loves everything cliche romantic. The cheesier, the better. He's the type of person who cries, every time, when watching The Notebook, or Titanic. Every. Time. Those are two of his favorite movies, too, just because of the romance. When not busy, he often catches himself daydreaming of being kissed in the rain like Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffany's or dancing and being dipped like Baby from Dirty Dancing. But he would never say that out loud. Even he has secrets. One thing he doesn't keep secret, though, is his sexuality. He has always been proud of who he is, he's very confident in himself, and he isn't afraid to say that. He honestly does love himself and it shows in the way he holds and presents himself. However, he is more careful at school functions. He understands that some parents would not be comfortable with a gay man teaching their child - okay, he doesn't understand it, but he isn't going to throw a fit over it - and he is a reflection of the school. So, the only place he's a bit tight-lipped on his open opinions, that he never delivers bluntly but logically, is at school.

❈ ❈ ❈

❈ ❈ ❈

❃ Background ❃

Fletcher lost his mother when he was age seven. She had worked a double shift at the hospital and drove home sleepy. That resulted in tragedy. Fletcher and his father got through it, though. It was strange, suddenly only having one parent, but Fletcher's dad did his best. Having only one parent didn't last too long, anyway. When Fletcher was eleven, his father was easing himself back into the dating scene. When Fletcher was fourteen, his father met a woman named Karen. Fletcher didn't see a lot of her, his father didn't make it a habit to bring his dates back home. So, it had been a slight shock when suddenly, his father was engaged a little after a year of dating this woman. At first, Fletcher had been upset, but Karen had been such a sweetheart about his cold shoulder, so understanding about it. Combine that with him meeting David, Karen's six year son, and Fletcher couldn't resist any longer. Karen never asked for the pictures of Fletcher's mom around the house to be taken down; they just simply added to the family photos. Fletcher would say he had a good childhood. Even if he lost his mother, his father had still taken care of him, and both Karen and David had quickly become family to him. He knew not many kids that lost a parent got even half of what he did.

Ever since a young age, Fletcher had a love for younger children. It was probably why he clung to David so quickly, and why they had bonded so strongly. Fletcher was a typical protective older brother, always watching out for David, and having his back when he needed it. He had never lost that love for kids. Even in high school, he had gotten a few jobs babysitting for extra money. While his dad made a pretty penny and Fletcher grew up in a high middle-class environment, he wasn't going to always live off of his father's money. Fletcher had always been one to do things on his own if he could. He went to Skyline University, where during his sophomore year, he had thought he met "the one." He hadn't dated very much in high school. While he immediately came out after discovering his sexuality, because he didn't want to hide, and getting accepted, that didn't mean he went around the high school shouting it out. He had a couple guys he saw, but nothing serious, and it never got very far. He expected the same in college, honestly. He wanted to focus on his studies but Donny had caught his eye and kept it. They lasted for almost a year and a half. Fletcher had thought the world of Donny; when that boy loves, he loves with everything he has got. Donny, on the other hand, must have not felt quite the same, because he cheated on Fletcher. With what Fletcher thought was a good friend of his.

Fletcher had been hurt, of course. He cut contact with both Donny and his friend, but he hadn't lingered too long on the matter. If Donny didn't care about him, why should he care about Donny? He hadn't wanted to waste his energy on someone like that. He had forgiven Donny, even if he hadn't asked for it. His friend had contacted him, though, and apologized profusely. He had easily forgiven him, because Fletcher didn't want to go through life with grudges or hating anyone. He even still talks to that friend, sometimes. He moved on, had his weekend of binging on ice cream and watching his fair share of sad movies, before continuing with getting his degree. After that, Fletcher didn't date again, and he hasn't since. Shortly after graduating, he had snagged a job at the local elementary school. He had been lucky in that way, since a position had just opened up, and they didn't go against taking someone with only college-level experience. With the help of other kind teachers - not all were helpful, of course, but he hadn't let that bother him, naturally - he had settled in quickly, and came to love his job, school and students even quicker.

He had been living in an apartment very close to the elementary school, but at 27 now, he had found out David had gotten accepted into Skyline University. Wanting to be as close as possible to his little brother in case he needed anything, Fletcher decided to find a place to settle down in closer to the Uni. Eden Gardens had been a logical choice. Not only was it close to the Uni, but the neighborhood was safe, and from what he could tell of just being there for a couple weeks now, everyone seems pretty friendly. Even the college kids. But, David had insisted on trying to live on his own, and had told Fletcher to stop being so over protective. Fletcher gave him that. He was being overbearing but he wouldn't stop. Now Fletcher had a longer drive to work, but to be close to David, in case he did need anything or just wanted to talk, was worth it to Fletcher.

❃ Relationship Information ❃
Relationship Status: Fletcher is single, and has been for a long time. The last time he dated was in college, his sophomore year at that; he had stopped trying after his last relationship fell through, his longest running one, and just threw himself into his work.
Partner: N/A.
Father: Fletcher's father, Jacob Holden Stacey, works as a medical sales representative. Fletcher's father had always tried to do his best for his son and that's all Fletcher could have asked for; he talks to his dad at least four times a week over the phone, if not a couple times in person.
Mother: Fletcher only has vague memories of his mother since she passed away when he was seven years old; her name was Linda Nicole Stacey. She had been a nurse for the local hospital, and an active member of the community. Fletcher keeps pictures of her around, and enjoys watching the few videos he has of her.
Siblings: Fletcher has a step-brother who is nine years younger than him; David Nathan Lester is fresh out of high school, and is going to be a student at Skyline University, major undecided. He and Fletcher have a very strong relationship.
Pet/s: Fletcher wants to get a dog or cat or something terribly bad, just for some company; during the summer, he could be home to give them all the attention they want, but not during the school year, so he opted to not get one and just fawn over others' pets. Even, they can get pricey too, and it's not like teachers get paid an extreme amount. He'll stick to his plants.
Other: Fletcher's father remarried when he was fifteen; he had given his step-mother, Karen Maria Lester, a hard time at first, but her kind nature won him over after a short period of time. Karen works as an advertising manager for a variety of businesses. Fletcher and Karen are, of course, nothing like mother and son, but they do come damn close.

Detailed Relationships

"Alexander is obviously a really nice kid. He's someone I actually hope to bump into when wandering around since it's always a pleasant chat with him."

Fletcher doesn't know Alexander very deeply, though that's expected, considering he hasn't even been there for a whole month. Though, the few times he has ran into Alexander, their chats have always been friendly. Considering they're both two friendly dudes, it isn't surprising they got along when it came to small talk. Fletcher's pretty sure if they ever talk beyond small talk, they'd keep up the streak of getting along.

"I haven't seen much of Abby, in all honesty. The one time I saw her, I said hello and she gave me a really... well, if looks could kill. I'm not passing judgement on that one time, I just hope that I get the chance to officially talk to her and actually manage to introduce myself. Everyone has bad days, right?"

Fletcher hasn't really met Abby. The one time he did see her, he decided against approaching her since it seemed like she had been in a bad mood. Little known to him, she just doesn't want any human contact ever, but he hadn't known that, and told himself he'd catch her next time he saw her to properly introduce himself. Fletcher thinks she's going to be just like her brother, sociable and friendly; poor thing doesn't know what he'll be getting himself in too.

"Uh, I haven't really had the chance to introduce myself to Cassandra. I've seen her around but haven't managed to actually cross paths with her. I'll make more of an effort too. I haven't even been here for a month but I should already know all my fellow residents."

Fletcher hasn't officially met Cassandra yet. With moving in, tying all the loose ins, changing addresses for all his personal things, and helping out David, he hasn't had time to go around shaking hands with everyone. Cassandra is someone he hasn't gotten around to introducing himself too but he's going to right that wrong quite soon, since he feels like it is over due.

"I met Jack in a really interesting way... I mean, finding a guy sleeping in the hallway is a really interesting way in my opinion. I had been concerned but he had said he was just napping. Kind of weird but weird isn't bad. He seems like a good kid, to be honest, and he's super nice. I can do super nice."

Fletcher hasn't had much interaction with Jack beyond that one meeting where they sparked a conversation that was more introductions and small talk than anything. Of course, Fletcher got along with Jack, since Fletcher can get along with a brick wall since he can sometimes try too hard to be nice, and he'll always say hi and stop if Jack does to engage in any sort of conversation without a problem.

"Kim has a cat that crawled through my open car window and got into the bag of cat food in there which is just... great. Immediately liked him from meeting the cat alone; it helps he seems like a really nice kid, too, since we always have nice passing conversations... which seems like all I've had with majority of everyone so far but again, I just moved in. I'll get there with everyone soon."

Fletcher does enjoy the passing conversations he has with Kim and he especially enjoys his cat. That he met the one time he discovered Cashew in his car, ripping into the bag of cat food and honestly, making a mess. Not that Fletcher minded; he coddled the cat while he and Kim introduced themselves, and from there, they now have passing words and Fletcher almost always asks about Cashew. Maybe he has slipped Kim a special cat treat a couple times they've bumped into each other too. Wait until Fletcher finds out about the other pets - he'll totally start spoiling everyone else's pets with no shame whatsoever.

"I managed to catch Quinn when she was heading to work at the Vibe - I need to check that place out soon - and I can safely say she seems like a really confident person. Which is a really good thing; it made me like her immediately. I don't know her too well but by first impression, she seems like she has herself together."

Fletcher obviously doesn't know much about Quinn. It isn't like they had a deep conversation when he bumped into her and found out she was heading to her shift at the Vibe. She seemed pretty nice, to Fletcher, and he managed to introduce himself and get her name. She seemed comfortable in herself, and so Fletcher expects she's pretty well put together. Though, he also knows first impressions doesn't show everything, but he isn't one to pry into someone to be nosey alone.

"I bumped into Doris... literally. I was carrying a box and sort of not watching where I was going and well, smack. I felt really bad, apologized a lot even though it was my stuff and my butt that met the ground - she's really sturdy, to be honest - and she, well... she told me to, uh, quote, "quit fucking apologizing" unquote, 'cause she got it. I didn't really let it bother me and after getting over my embarrassment and trying to resist rubbing the throb in my butt cheek in front of her, I introduced myself and she seems really nice. She's blunt, but a lot of the times, we can use blunt. It's funny, at least."

Fletcher felt bad with his first encounter with Doris, strictly because he ran into her while carrying a box and not exactly paying attention. Even though he took the butt of the crash, he still apologized profusely, which got him a blunt response of basically shut up, she got it, it was okay, stop being so damn nice and worrisome. Which did make Fletcher reel back a little, and it opened up a small conversation, and now Fletcher made an effort to say hello each time he saw her; he has never minded a straightforward attitude, actually they could be entertaining and even helpful, so he can enjoy being around them.

"I've met Maxwell a few times - he seems pretty... positive, which I like a lot. Positivity is something I can get behind. Besides that, I haven't learned much else about him. We're friendly towards the other but, uh, I'm not sure if we have anything else in common. I mean, we haven't really tried to find out, but you know, I'm not going to seek him out and bother him or anything."

Fletcher thinks Maxwell seems like a positive and kind guy that he can get behind if Maxwell ever wants to be official friends. Either way, though, it won't bother Fletcher, because he knows it's really Maxwell's choice. He isn't going to actively seek him out but if he bumps into him, he'll engage in small talk, maybe attempt a little more, but without Maxwell's push, nothing beyond that. Like everyone else, he wouldn't mind getting to know Maxwell a little better. He seems like a good kid and Fletcher does like learning about new people, even if he may come off a bit shy at first, and possibly later.

"Honestly, the first time I met Nathan... I was reminded of one of my kids. Not in a bad way! He just seems really carefree and fun, which I can get on board with. I know there's more to him. Since I'm sort of a coffee addict, I started to go to the café he works at a lot. I see a lot of him, and he seems more mature and serious at work, though I still notice a sort of... childlike attitude about him. Again, not in a bad way! Even I can act like a kid. I feel like Nathan is someone I'd try to drag to my class to read them a book - I bet he'd do some great voices. And, yeah, glad to meet someone way closer to my age. Not that I have a problem with the younger kids, it's just nice to know I won't be labeled "old man who tries too hard." Maybe someone else will get that label, ha."

Fletcher immediately liked Nathan upon first meeting him. The man just had an air about him that appealed to Fletcher, perhaps because he felt like he was similar in a way to his kids, not in a bad way at all, and it made Fletcher be a bit more bubbly around him as a result. Nathan being attractive in Fletcher's eyes helped, too, but he wasn't going to make a move. Maybe when he knew him better, since he could determine his sexuality by then. Seeing him often at the café now, Fletcher's extra nice, because he's sort of serious about attempting to drag Nathan to the school to read to the kids one day. He knows that might seem a bit weird but he really feels like Nathan could be good with kids, and a little extra help would be something amazing. A lack of teacher assistants sucked though he knows bringing in outside help isn't always practical. Doesn't mean he won't try, though.

"Oh, uh, Clarence... my first meeting with him was worse than me ending up on my butt in front of Doris. I'm not really used to having neighbors yet and, uh, I made plenty of damn noise when looking for my keys. I was freaking out, like I always do, and when I heard the knocks on my door... ha, I knew I made someone mad. And yeah, it had to be the hot dad- uh, God, the just dad next door. Ahem. He wasn't happy and he was... shirtless... and uh, I don't remember much of what he said? Anyway! Um, I managed to apologize with cookies and who knew he was hiding a precious angel? I think I fell in-love with Arianna. I need to spend time with her, okay? Clarence would be a... umm, bonus... but if Arianna is not in my class this upcoming year, I will protest. I really will. I will steal her from whatever teacher gets her. No shame, whatsoever."

Fletcher already has strong feelings about Clarence and Arianna, for multiple reasons. His embarrassment of their first meeting didn't help, especially with Clarence's reaction to his clutter and lost keys (which he found way too easily, how did he? Sorcery, that was how). The second meeting, he had met Arianna, and maybe embarrassed himself by immediately dropping to his knees, introducing himself, and presenting her the cookies like a knight would present a sword to their King. Afterward, he paid more attention to Arianna, though maybe that was from being a little nervous towards Clarence. He was a lot older, and attractive, and single. That was enough to make Fletcher's face get hot. So, when he does bump into Clarence, if Arianna is there, his attention is mostly focused on her. Not that he outright ignores Clarence; he manages some small talk with him, with a lack of eye contact and hotness in his cheeks. When he bumped into Clarence a couple times without Arianna, one time in the café Nathan worked at, he had been nervous and while he managed small talk, he came off really... embarrassing, in his opinion. He sort wants to die now, but he doesn't because he can't leave Arianna now. He already openly adores the little girl because how could anyone not?

"Aye, I was sort of excited because I'm not the only new resident! But I haven't really had a chance to meet the other new guy. Or kid... anyone younger than me and they're a kid. I blame that urge to always be an older brother to anyone younger than me. Doesn't mean I can't appreciate a cute face though. Ahem, getting too real and off topic here. So, I haven't properly met, uh, Lewis, yeah. Which I'll fix soon; I know what it's like being the new guy, after all. Can feel a bit awkward and even lonely, if no one is introducing themselves. Which didn't happen to me but I wanna make sure it doesn't happen to Lewis."

Fletcher has seen Lewis from afar, heard his name from somewhere he can't remember now, and plans to introduce himself quite soon. He likes new faces, and he and Lewis can totally adjust to the new place together. In Fletcher's mind, at least, he wants to do that. He thinks befriending another new resident could help both of them; at least they can fall on the other if they can't wiggle their way into the current dynamics here, though most of everyone seems really nice, and Fletcher is sure neither of them would have problems making friends. Fletcher feels like he hasn't bumped into that problem yet, and he wants to make Lewis feel welcomed, so he'll get on that as soon as possible.

"Rucks - that name is totally cool - is someone I haven't talked to that much. He seems pretty nice when I do bump into him, but I haven't managed to get beyond small talk with him. Not that I'm complaining too much, but I wouldn't complain if he went beyond small talk, either. I'm pretty sure he paints, since I caught him with clothes covered in it one day, which is really cool. That or he's a really bad carpenter that gets the paint more on himself than the walls."

Fletcher doesn't know Rucks that well. The one thing he can positively say about him is that he paints and passionately, from that time he saw what his clothes - and hands... and arms... and face even - had to endure. Not that Fletcher sees it as a problem. Actually, he likes to see someone so passionate about something, and next time he sees Rucks, he plans on bringing it up, something a little beyond small talk that he'll start. He has to take small steps with some people, right? Besides that, he feels like Rucks is nice enough, and wouldn't mind talking to him more.

"Vanessa actually seems pretty... shy, I guess. One time, I held open the complex door for her, and she could barely look me in the eye. Like, I can get that, but I did make it a point to stop her and introduce myself. She did seem shy, but she seemed really... sweet, too. She had a certain... vibe about her that made me feel comfortable. I wouldn't mind getting to know her more, since I let her go after getting her name."

Vanessa is another person Fletcher is still wanting to get to know better. However, he believes he can safely say she seems like a gentle soul, and he likes that about her. While she seems shy, that, of course, doesn't bother him. Like the others he doesn't talk to as much, he wants to attempt more conversation with Vanessa, though he isn't going to force her into it, of course. He'll let her move at her own pace.

❃ Theme Song ❃

❃ Extra ❃

Fletcher's spirit animal: turtle.

❈ ❈ ❈

❈ ❈ ❈

These Happy Golden Years: A Complex Family Roleplay

Omg. I'll be working on relations today, finally! I'm still waitin on Cas to get done with Gabe's Accomp (but no rush there, just letting everyone know by excuse for not posting isn't just laziness, even if it comprises most of it. *sweats*).

@HalfOfLancelot

_{now what's your excuse huh}

These Happy Golden Years: A Complex Family Roleplay

Oliver Nathaniel Harris

✯ ℞ ✯

✯ ℞ ✯

• N A M E •

Oliver Nathaniel Harris. Doesn't care if people refer to him as Oli.

• A G E •

35.

• G E N D E R •

Male.

• O C C U P A T I O N •

Ex-military surgeon; now a private chef for quite a few big names in the entertainment business.

• S E X U A L I T Y •

Homosexual.

• R E L A T I O N S H I P S T A T U S •

Recent nasty break-up from boyfriend of two years; now is fake fiance to Gabriel Carrington.

• F A M I L Y M E M B E R S •

Mother: Holly Harris, alive; ex-surgeon at what had been voted as Los Angeles' best hospital, Cedars-Sinai Medical Center; now retired.
Father: Jack Harris, alive; ex-private chef for some bigger names in the entertainment business; now retired.
Older brother: Matthew Harris, deceased; ex-military.
Oliver often visits his parents, having a good, strong relationship with both of them, and sees distant family more often than not. He's very much a family man.

✯ ℞ ✯

✯ ℞ ✯

• A P P E A R A N C E •

Oliver walks into a room with a confidence he doesn't quite feel. He often utilizes his whole 6'0 height, always walking and sitting with the proper posture, straight back and shoulders, lifted chin; he has an air about him that makes him come off like he's a man with a purpose, like he's someone who grew up knowing exactly what they wanted and when they wanted it. One will never catch Oliver dragging his feet, or slouching his shoulders, unless he is that disappointed or laughing that hard but it never lasts long at all. He can keep still for a good period of time, so sitting around, or even standing, never seems to phase his formal posture. This doesn't mean he's always stiff and rod-straight; in private, or around those he's comfortable with, he will definitely relax and slouch around, hold himself in a completely opposite way from the way he does in public settings. Perhaps adding to the appearance of confidence he seems to have is that he is fit; he has a toned, lithe form with defined muscles that gives away he has been through intense training, and hasn't let himself get out of shape. It helps he does have a fast metabolism, so skipping a few gym days or weeks doesn't affect him too badly.

Oliver doesn't tan as easily as others, and since he doesn't spend any more time than he has too out in the hot sun back in LA, his skin complexion is more of a creamy color than anything else. Even despite what he has been through, his body is practically devoid of any scars. He may have a few light ones from accidents, but nothing extremely apparent. Surprisingly, his hands aren't that hardened; some roughness to the tips but overall, not only his hands, but all of his skin, is soft and smooth, a sign that he does take care of himself, especially as a result from being a very hygienic person. He has been tossing around the idea of getting a tattoo in memory of his brother, but he isn't exactly sure what he'd get, or where he'd get it. It has been on his mind long enough, though; he probably just needs to bring it up and bounce ideas off of the right person.

Oliver's hair is a darker brown, cut in such a style that the shorter sides are barely brushing the top of his ears, the back barely brushing his neck, and it's thicker on the top, appearing shiny and healthy. His hair can look noticeably different in style depending on how he treats it that day. Either he can slick it back, flattening it to cause the sides and back to look longer. Or he can slightly spike it in the front, or just simply push it back, giving him the appearance of more hair on top of his head than the sides and back. He doesn't take much time on his hair; depending on where he's going, sometimes he may just push it back with his fingers and let it do its thing, or he might take more time on it and make it appear more neat. He is rarely clean-shaven, choosing instead to let facial hair grow where it may. With facial hair as dark as his hair, it can either come through as a five o'clock shadow, or be a few hours past that point. He doesn't often let it get thicker than that, choosing to keep it more so short and thin. His dark eyebrows are long, straight until they dip down just slightly at the ends, and appear thicker than most, giving them more of a bushier appearance.

Set beneath the thick beauties, are gentle eyes with thick eyelashes that stand out against his high cheekbones when he looks down. He has eyes that can't quite decide what color they want to be; most of the time, they appear to be a vivid blue, one that's light, could be called icy. Other times, they can seem closer to a light green, or a grey, or even darker in color, more of a brown. What he's wearing, and the type of light setting he's in, helps determine what color they choose to be that day. Laugh lines appear at the corner of both eyes, naturally more noticeable when he's smiling, and he sometimes finds himself looking in the mirror, smoothing his fingertips over them with squinted eyes because damn, he is getting old. Underneath a slightly wide nose, are pink lips, the bottom lip fuller than the top; naturally, they'll appear red if he licks or bites at them too much. Which isn't often he does, since he hides nervous habits such as those, but it still happens sometimes. An adorable butt-chin with a wide jaw brings together Oliver's handsome face.

Oliver tries his best to not have a style that reflects his rich lifestyle but well, he has a slightly expensive taste, but nothing over the top. He isn't like his mother, who thinks the higher the price, the better and prettier it is. He just goes for what he likes, and it usually happens to be something that'd fall under the high casual category. He actually enjoys clothes shopping, finding new things to wear out, adding more items to his honestly already full closet. If it's one thing that can make him feel good, it's clothes, so he has plenty of them. He goes with the seasons, reading magazines talking about the latest fashion trends though he may not always follow them, and dresses according to the weather. He does the same with his colors; his favorite season to wear is Fall. He loves scarves, light jackets, and fall colors. In a winter environment, he's prone to be seen in a creamy white sweater paired with darker, fitted slacks; or a rust brown wool coat with a grey turtleneck beneath and dark boots; or maybe even a smoke grey pea coat with a plain white shirt underneath and paired with brighter skinny jeans. One constant on his body seems to be a long chain around his neck, with a pair of dog tags on the end; not his own, but rather, his older brother's. Oliver quite enjoys dressing himself, and putting outfits together, making him quite the fashionable guy.

• P E R S O N A L I T Y •

Oliver has been through a lot, and the person he is today, is certainly not the same person he was twenty years ago. Twenty years ago, Oliver was a rich, privileged fifteen year old going through private school, letting his grades suffer in favor of hanging with the wrong crowd and illegally drinking. Fifteen years ago, Oliver was still rich and privileged but was twenty, and was riding through college on mommy's and daddy's money, so he could give less shits about his grades. Instead, he gave more shits about getting, well, shit-faced. Thankfully, Oliver was knocked out of that life, and after his experience in the military, and with his alcoholism and therapy afterward, he, of course, wasn't quite the same person. Fortunately, a lot of his good traits stuck with him throughout the years. Oliver has always been a very driven person; whatever he did, he put his all into it, whether it be drinking, studying, or even cooking. It's rare for Oliver to half-ass anything, even when he isn't in the best of moods, or isn't having a good day, he still gives whatever task he has that day his all. This does result in him appearing stubborn, though. He prefers to do things his way - though that doesn't mean he won't listen to other suggestions - and doesn't like to be told he can't do something. He's the type of person who doesn't like to hear no, and would rather figure something out on his own.

Oliver has always been very quick-witted. With parents who insisted on being proper, and going to big, fancy events, it caused Oliver to grow up behaving in a certain manner he has never quite shaken. He shook the stuck-up attitude that came attached with it, but he kept the charming attitude it had given him. If the setting calls for it, Oliver can come off as quite the debonair gentleman, slipping into conversations with ease, blending in with the type of group he just stepped into with little to no problem. This isn't to say he throws his beliefs and opinions to the wind; he just delivers them in a logical, and calm, manner that usually keeps the peace among the people he's with. To some, he can come off as posh, even stuck-up, though he never intends to be that way. Oliver has never been a judgmental being; even at his worse, he kept his compassion about him, his caring nature towards others, and he will never lose that part of himself. He doesn't hesitate to defend others, keeps a cool head in conflict and high-tense situations, and doesn't protest being blunt if it's called for. He's pretty honest when his opinion is asked for, but he does worry about what others think of him, so sometimes, he may sugar-coat his opinion, though he tries not too. Many would say he cares too much, too strongly. He's someone who has to help people; while right now, he's in a career that helps people's stomachs, maybe eventually he'll be okay enough to go back to actually saving lives.

He's a thinker, someone who likes to step back and observe something at all sides. Though, doing that to himself may take some time, since he isn't one for self-reflecting that often. He is very curious about any and everything, and that, alone, makes him retain more pointless knowledge than he cares to admit. Always, he has been an active listener to others. Someone could be talking about the most boring thing but he's right there, nodding and mhm'ing in the right places, taking it all in. He doesn't very often appear rude; he's actually a very kind and gentle individual, who will put his own problems on the back burner in favor of helping someone else. Which that he knows is a problem, but one he isn't working to fix. He isn't quick to anger, even on his bad days. Rather, he's quick to pay attention to someone else, something else. A distraction is what he seeks when something is getting to be too much for him, be it in the form of entertainment or listening to another ramble about anything they want. In that way, he does ignore his problems, but a lot of times, a distraction does prevent him from doing something he'd regret later.

Oliver comes off as a pretty positive guy; he tries to look at the bright side of things, rather than what's going wrong, and he's getting better at doing that. He tries to keep himself smiling or laughing about something, just to keep his mind off of his own troubles. He'll make jokes ranging from dark humor to the lamest pun ever, he loves it all. He enjoys coming off as almost sarcastic but he knows there's a time and place for everything, even jokes. If he knows someone gets a kick out of his jokes and sarcastic nature, he's sure to always turn to that person and mumble something to them if he wants no one else hearing. He can be seen as almost carefree, in a way, but that doesn't mean he is without stresses; he struggles daily with his own demons. Specifically, alcohol. It's a big weakness of his, since it gives him a feeling of not caring about what he's been through. He isn't an angry drunk, or even a sad drunk. He can grow mopey, and when he does, he can become a mess. But usually, he's more tactile, talkative and he probably laughs a little too loudly when under the influence. Though, he's trying his hardest to avoid that, no matter how badly he might want it. He doesn't like to talk about it, and instead attempts to politely deny a drink if it's offered to him, never wanting to explain why and usually coming up with an excuse that doesn't give away to the fact he's an ex-alcoholic. One of the times he will get easily annoyed is when someone is pushy, and tries to get him to do anything he doesn't want too, especially drink. Going to therapy has forced him to face why, exactly, he hits the bottle so hard. He does have PTSD, depression, and a mild case of anxiety; but the biggest reason is because of the guilt he suffers from. Oliver heavily blames himself for the patients he lost. He heavily blames himself for pain he has caused others. He's hard on himself, to the point it dwindles his confidence and it makes him feel very bad about himself. He has issues lifting himself up. He knows he has saved a lot of lives, but it seems like the ones he has lost, the people he has hurt, the limbs he couldn't save, haunt him the most. Those what if's visit him late at night and keep him up. If he even mildly offends someone, and they point it out or he notices, he's quick to apologize, but expect him to beat himself up for it for some time after.

He tries really hard to avoid anything alcoholic, even talk of it, like the plague. Another thing he avoids like the plague is talk of his time overseas; if he talks about it, he keeps it short, and smoothly changes the subject. He prefers playing off his problems, his mental scarring, and tries to not make it as big of a deal as it actually is. Therapy has helped him admit to more of his problems - to his therapist. To an outsider, though, he's more tight-lipped. Oliver tries really hard to hide his inner struggles, and instead chooses to pay attention to others, while hiding behind a mask of quick-wit and confidence that isn't so real. Therapy has always been hard for him, because sometimes, he doesn't like to face reality. He isn't much a realist; he likes to stay in a place where things are better, though he's learning to not do that. He can be quite sensitive about certain matters, and he can appear like an open book at times. If something is snapped at him or a blunt truth is said to him, he may flinch but cover it up and attempt to play it off; if something is snapped to someone else, if someone else is hurt, he'll stand up for them. That just shows how much, or rather how little, he cares about himself. It had been different, when he was younger, a time that feels so far away. Now, he just takes whatever is dished at him, and tries to hide his hurt over it, but he doesn't let anyone else get treated unfairly, if he can do anything about it.

✯ ℞ ✯

✯ ℞ ✯

• L I K E S •

⇧ Cooking - he finds something relaxing and methodical about following a recipe; there's an order to it that he enjoys. the science behind cooking is something that he also greatly enjoys, and knows much about. alton brown is a total hero of his.
⇧ Late night movies - those weird movies that come on at two in the morning that shouldn't had been made? yeah, those are a guilty pleasure of his.
⇧ Hot drinks - the feel of a warm cup cradled in his hands, seeing the steam come off the surface of the liquid, feeling the heat when he brings it close enough to his face; there's something about that that just speaks to him.
⇧ Cold weather - snow, snow, snow. bring it on, because he loves it. also, he loves scarves, so that's a bonus in cold weather.
⇧ Stillness - be it the stillness of a dark, starry night, the stillness of a dark room while laying in bed, or the stillness of an empty, quiet house, he finds a certain peace within those.
⇧ Science - his best subject has always been science, and he loves all types of science, but especially health sciences, space science, and molecular gastronomy (type of food science).

• D I S L I K E S •

⇩ Alcohol - he has had his fair share of issues with the stuff and he hates it's still a weakness.
⇩ Loud noises - while he may not have been in direct combat, he has experienced plenty of loud, frightening sounds to make him not like sudden, loud noises.
⇩ Dry heat - he was stationed in a dry barren location; he doesn't like dry heat, sand, or sweating when he isn't intending too.
⇩ The patients he has lost - of course, he has lost people, and he always takes it to heart, forces himself to attempt to ingrain their name and face into his memory, though having worked in a heavy combat area has caused some of them to blur, and that only increases his guilt.
⇩ Insomnia - he loves sleep, so the fact he suffers from chronic insomnia isn't something he's too thrilled about.
⇩ The dentist - he goes, he wants to keep his teeth in their best shape, but seriously, he hates laying back in that chair, being blinded by a light, and having strange hands in his mouth. if he didn't care so much, he wouldn't go at all. he will always ask, why, why do they talk to you when their hands are in your mouth?

✯ ℞ ✯

✯ ℞ ✯

• H I S T O R Y •

When in reference to the typical American dream, Oliver Harris would jokingly say he had everything, even the white picket fence, but not the dog. He wouldn't be joking though. With a surgeon for a mother, and a popular private chef for a father in West Los Angeles, the Harris family was not short on money by any means. Thus, Oliver and his older brother by two years, Matthew, grew up in a household where not only would any requested material items be given to them, but where they also experienced an intense amount of attentiveness and praise from both of their parents. Oliver had a childhood that would be the envy of those who had a lack of attention, and what felt like love, from their parents in their youth, since the two Harris boys had that, and more, in abundance. It resulted in quite the indulgent childhood. It was no surprise that Oliver was a spoiled, and slightly conceited, person in his adolescent years. He wasn't proud to admit he did cause his parents, and even his older brother, problems in his teenage years, and somewhat beyond that. Getting mixed up with the wrong crowd resulted in him caring more about skipping class and illegally drinking than his grades. Shortly after witnessing Matthew's graduation, he left for the military, and Oliver hadn't batted an eye at it. A lot of people went into the military; their parents hadn't fully approved but they had never held their children back, so they gave him their blessing. While Oliver had always been pretty intelligent, close to his own graduation, his parents had to settle with him going to a college they hadn't labeled "elite" because they were determined to push him in that direction. Even despite his uncaring attitude in high school.

Oliver wanted to go to college, but only because of the prospect of more freedom and a lot more partying. Oliver hadn't chosen a major, much to his parents' hidden frustrations, but when not busy destroying his liver, or attempting to keep his eyes opened in a class, he had been considering following in his father's footsteps. One thing he and his father had heavily bonded over had been cooking, and Oliver never lost his touch with cooking. He had quickly become his dorm building's chef, being able to take any food and make something half decent out of it. He was really only in college because while he might be taking advantage of his free ride through college by drinking it away, he did love his parents, and had wanted to at least make them sort of proud. Nearly two years into college, barely passing, he got a call from his parents requesting he come home for that weekend. He had resisted at first, the best parties happened over the weekend after all, but they had insisted. He caved, since they were his parents, and went. He almost wished he hadn't. They gave him the news that Matthew had been killed in combat while overseas. It floored Oliver. He could recall just talking to him a few days ago on the phone, the older boy gently scolding him for nearly failing science when Oliver's best subject had always been science, but never outright calling him out like sometimes their mother did. Matthew and Oliver had always had a relationship that, even if they barely said a word to each other for a few weeks, they could go to the other and start spewing everything wrong without it feeling weird or awkward. The two had been close, even each other's best friends when younger, and they hadn't quite lost that connection even after splitting up.

After that, Oliver took a step back and really looked at his life. He thought about the gentle scoldings and advice Matthew would dish him that he'd just brush off and realized he was ruining his own life at the rate he was going. That his family could see it, but knew he was young and bullheaded enough to not listen to them, so they hadn't pushed. It was a defining moment in his life; if only that moment hadn't come from the result of such a depressing tragedy. Instead of letting it bog him down, and diving deeper into his partying lifestyle, he pulled himself away from it. With all of that advice Matthew had given him he had chose to ignore weighing down on him, he couldn't keep down his current path. He began to take college seriously, lifted up his grades, and was actually doing pretty well for himself. He'd still go to a party but he made sure he went when it wouldn't effect his school schedule. It had been hard at first; he had, of course, liked being irresponsible and lazy. He had liked the feeling alcohol had given him but Matthew wouldn't be proud if he had kept that life up. His parents wouldn't had been, either. Close to his graduation and earning his bachelor's degree, he had his parents asking him what he was going to do after college. They were still suffering from the loss of Matthew, still upset and sad about it, but that would be expected. They stuck together and tried their best to keep going. Oliver considered becoming a private chef much like his father - it would be easy, since his father had connections - but the more he thought on it, the more his mind kept returning to one thing. His mother as inspiration, he had decided to go to medical school. But rather become a nurse, or doctor, or even a surgeon at one of the hospitals in Los Angeles, he had decided to do something that upset his parents. He'd earn his medical degree, join the military, and work up to becoming a surgeon. He wanted to save other soldiers, since he couldn't save his brother.

His parents had, for once, tried to firmly tell him no, to put their foot down, but Oliver had made up his mind. He wanted to go overseas and save lives, so no other family had to experience the pain his had. He had always been determined and his parents couldn't convince him otherwise. So, after four years of medical school, he joined the military, and that was that. He stayed with the military for four years, became a surgeon, but it had been a lot harder than he was expecting. The things he heard, he had seen, the lives he had lost. He saved plenty, of course he had, but the ones he lost stuck with him, and weighed him down. The limbs he had to take from soldiers to save them weighed him down. The overall environment weighed him down. It hadn't all been bad. Of course not. He had made friends, gained new family members that he still kept in contact with today, though their relationship wasn't as strong now. He could recall some fond memories, could name a few guys that stuck with him, could laugh at a few stories. Like one story, that made him cringe but then laugh, about how he had saved this guy, but had to amputate his leg which was the part where Oliver would cringe. But then he'd recall how the guy stayed in the military hospital for about a month, and if given the chance, Oliver would visit the patients as often as possible. Almost each time he went, the guy would either be out of it on drugs, or a lack of sleep like many traumatized soldiers suffered from, and would say the funniest things. Sometimes when Oliver was feeling shitty, he'd remember that guy, and it'd make him give a slightly sad smile. After his four years were up, he couldn't go back. He still feels selfish over that decision, so many more lives could be saved, but he couldn't bring himself to go back. He was 30 when he came back to the States, moved into his own apartment in West LA near his parents, and tried to settle back into the city. It had been rough. For almost a year, he barely contacted his parents, didn't bother finding a job, and instead fell back on the old habits of drinking and just trying to forget everything that he had seen and blamed himself for. Alcohol became his crutch. It became his way out, his way of avoiding his mental scarring.

His parents became increasingly worried about him, and that only caused him to shut himself in more. By the time he had been back in the States for two years, he finally had a wake up call. After a particularly bad episode that almost resulted in him taking his life - his parents, especially his mother, having completely flipped their shit over it - he finally sought help. Just the thought of putting his parents, his other immediate family, through another too-soon loss propelled him to attempt to get better. That choice led to therapy. Lots, and lots, of therapy. Naturally, he wasn't fixed over night. He was suffering from PTSD, depression, and alcoholism. Even he understood these were not easy fixes. Money had never been a problem, so he got the best of the best help. Even then, he had relapses, but it happened. He picked himself back up and kept going. He had always been a determined and stubborn person, that was for sure. After half a year into therapy, he decided to pursue his original dream, and began to follow in his father's footsteps, working on his career as a private chef. With his father, and his connections, it hadn't been hard to wiggle his way into that life. He quickly found a good footing, and was quite enjoying his new career choice. He had considered becoming a surgeon at the hospital his mother had worked at, but just the thought of possibly losing another patient sent his heart racing and palms sweating; he immediately decided against it. After a full year into therapy, he met another struggling soul by the name of Brad. They hit it off, could relate to the other, and it started a budding romance.

Too bad that romance turned sour after almost a year of dating. It took a while for both of them to realize they were not good for the other; Oliver, being the headstrong person he was, was very anal about being around alcohol. Considering he had his few relapses, he always grew uncomfortable and weary around the stuff. Brad, on the other hand, felt like he could control his bad habit, and would sometimes allow himself a drink or two. Thing was, Brad was pretty damn good at controlling his bad habit, only letting himself a taste sometimes, but it always put Oliver on edge. This resulted in Brad becoming increasingly annoyed with Oliver's "overbearing" behavior, as Brad saw it. They both tried to make it work, stuck with the other because there had been love there, but it was bled out when Oliver kept trying too hard and feeling guilty over little things, and Brad kept ignoring his attempts and claiming he was being overly paranoid about alcohol. Just a shy of two years, they had a nasty break-up. Brad accusing Oliver of wanting everything perfect and neat, in an order; wanting to pretend and appear like everything in their life was posh and "hoity-toity" when it was not that at all. Oliver had been hurt, since he does try his best to not come off as "snobby" or "rich" because of the way he was raised, and he was also hurt Brad didn't understand his concerns, and his trouble, with alcohol. Obviously, Brad hadn't suffered as bad from the addiction, and Brad had never known how to handle Oliver's occasional nightmare or the small episodes he still suffered from when a noise resembled an explosion or a gunshot a little too closely. He was much better at controlling himself when either of these things occurred, years of therapy could do that to a person, but naturally, he still struggled.

After the break-up, Oliver was sort of amazed he had spent two years with Brad. Looking back, he realized how he and Brad had never quite clicked. He saw how they could never work out. They couldn't quite relate to the other, even if they suffered from the same addiction. Oliver did wonder if he was more upset at the two years he had lost with Brad, or if he was truly upset over the lost of Brad. Either way, he was sort of relieved. Brad had always put him on edge with the few drinks he might have in public, would cringe or flinch every time Brad got a little loud because Oliver thought maybe he was having one too many, so he was relieved to be away from that anxiety inducer. But despite that, he could feel himself feeling really shitty, slowly walking back into that rut that would eventually lead to a relapse, so a small vacation by himself was needed. He needed to be away from the city, away from the reminders of Matthew and Brad, away from his parents' constant worrying. He loved the snow, the cold, and so running off to a snowy, cold environment seemed like the most logical choice. Running off to his parents' cabin in Colorado seemed even more logical. Thinking of the warming affects of alcohol was something that did not need to be logical, and something that needed to be avoided. Saying yes to being a fake fiance to an old face that didn't remember him was, indeed, very not logical but... hopefully that'll be the only illogical choice he'll make on this already strange vacation.

• M I S C E L L A N E O U S I N F O •

Oliver takes medication for his depression, though he sometimes wonders why he does since he still has intensely bad days; he really does it because his parents, and therapist, want to see him trying to get better (he doesn't give himself enough credit because he has come a long way from where he was originally). To keep his hands busy and mind off drinking, his therapist recommended he pick up a few hobbies. As of right now, Oliver can knit/crochet; he enjoys putting together models of any transportation vehicles; he attempts origami but he's still sort of failing at that one; he likes to mess around with a Rubik's cube; of course, cooking is always a great way for him to get his hands busy and his mind distracted; he has also learned that helping his elderly neighbor out with her flower garden is engaging and fun.

✯ ℞ ✯

✯ ℞ ✯

S.H.I.E.L.D Academy

Let's see.

@Winter Kitten hasn't posted for neither Garret nor Magni.

@Angel Eyes hasn't posted for Baba nor Jordan.

@Apokalipse hasn't posted for Guy.

Roze just said she hasn't posted for Roran and I am still working on Nick's and Scotty's intro posts. That's it afterward, though.

These Happy Golden Years: A Complex Family Roleplay

ahahaha i finally put charles up

I'll be working on relationships tonight!