charleston "charlie" king is an original character written by woods (29, he/him/his, queer, EST). more information can be found about him beneath the cut.
adult elements, dead dove themes, and other triggering content will be present on this account so follow at your own risk if you are 18 or older.
this is a semi-selective, low to mid activity gay smut blog.
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FULL NAME: charleston everett king NICKNAME: charlie, rex, ck AGE: thirty BIRTHDAY: july 1st ZODIAC: cancer SEXUALITY: closeted / bicurious* / bottom, situational verse* THEME SONG: am i alright by aly & aj THREE + TRAITS: charming, hardworking, and altruistic THREE - TRAITS: secretive, stubborn, and dishonets OCCUPATION: charlie works as a part-time game-master and cashier at a local game shop, specializing in dungeons and dragons and magic the gathering (commander style) and can run other games as well; he also works as an escort/prostitute. FACECLAIM: tom holland, alt fc: lewis pullman.
*charlie considereds himself to be bicurious because he believes he is attracted to women and because he was raised in such a devoutly religious home, where being gay to any degree was a horrible sin, he can't quite shake the feeling that he's supposed to be attracted to women. he hasn't acted on that attraction, but he does find it easier to be friends with women than men, but for the sake of this being a m/m centered blog he will not be pursing any women sexually or romantically. * charlie is very much a bottom and does not enjoy topping nearly as much but he will do it on occasion. i will only have charlie top if it is something we plot out and even then it will not happen often.
tw: mentions of suicide, depression, alcoholism, religious trauma and homophobia
charlie was no stranger to small towns. star, south carolina, was as small as they got in his opinion. everyone knew everyone, your neighbors felt more like extended family than strangers living next door, and nothing went unnoticed.
at least that's what he had always thought.
growing up the rules were simple. dinner with his parents every night by six pm sharp; homework needed to be done by eight pm on school nights; they went to the catholic church's seven am sunday service every sunday, no excuses; always say yes sir and yes ma'am; respect your elders; don't talk back; make his parent's proud; be good.
charlie clung to those rules as if they were the bible themself, especially after his mother died.
she had been his best friend. she was a font of light in his, and everyone else's, life. one night he was lounging on the couch with her, her soft pink manicured nails carding through his hair while they watched wheel of fortune, and the next she was just gone.
in small towns everyone was supposed to know everything. there weren't supposed to be any secrets, everyone was supposed to be too involved-- too much of a community-- for that and yet now they wanted him to believe that his mother-- the kindest, funniest, brightest person in his life; his only source of warmth-- was that depressed and no one noticed? no one at all?
after she was buried, the light in him dimmed so much that his father began to worry; everyone did.
he wore his mother's gold chain everywhere, carrying the dainty cross his father had saved up to buy her for years, but he wouldn't actually talk about her. not to his father. not to their priest. not to any of the counselors they sent him too. it was almost as if he believed not talking about her being gone, not addressing it at all, would keep it from being true.
unfortunately that's not how it works.
he turned to drinking, when no one was looking, to dull the aching in his chest. he pulled away from church, refusing to believe in a god or any kind of higher power that would be so cruel to take his mother from him for no reason. he pulled away from his friends. he pulled away from his father.
it was hardly fair but charlie couldn't bring himself to look at the man with anything other than hatred. he hated himself too. if he couldn't forgive himself for not seeing that his mom wasn't okay then how was he supposed to forgive his father?
fueled by the alcohol that was often in his system, the pair of them began to fight more and more. about his mom. about charlie's grades. about what the temperature was outside. nothing was safe from the anger burning away inside of him.
it all came to a head when charlie's father came home one night and not only found him drunk on the living room couch but being pinned there by some kid from a college a few towns over; a male. the words that were exchanged between them that night were not things that could be easily forgiven; or easily forgotten.
things were never the same after that, he and his father couldn't stand to look at each other let alone be in the same room together, so it was only a matter of time before charlie left.
he's been wandering ever since.
floating from the couches of friends he made online to the couches of complete strangers; to sleeping in the back of his van at state parks or in well lit grocery store parking lots. he wasn't sure where he was going, or what he was looking for, but he wasn't going to stop until he found it.
