lonely lionheart ;

do you know your lip shakes when you're mad do you notice when you're sad -- you don't like to be touched. let alone kissed.

[oliverflynn]

drxcollins‌:

Ben had no idea how they ended up in this part of town or how long they had been parked here. What was obvious was that neither one of them should’ve been driving. Maybe that was the reason why he had decided to take a break and wait for the buzz to fade before getting back behind the wheel. He did remember that at some point during the night he had grabbed Ollie’s car keys and he had made the decision to drive them back to his friend’s place. And it was not long after that he noticed that he was mistaken. Last thing he needed was to a) crash his friend’s car  or b) run over some pedestrian. He was starting to feel a bit more alert when Oliver grabbed his attention with a question that made him cock his brows. “What - like a cat or something?” He quickly corrected himself by adding the different person angle. The doctor sighed, sinking into the seat with his hands on the wheel, tapping to this INXS song he’s been carrying in his head all night. “I think everyone gets a moment like that. When - they consider what their life would be like if they had been born in a different time, or place or to a different family. Why? Are you having a deep existential moment?”

Oliver turned back to him. “I’m always feeling existential,” he said simply before looking back out the window. “I don’t know. it’s kind of nice out there. It would be nice to go out without it being a whole thing. I should have never signed up for the whole papparazzi bullshit.” Which, to be fair, he hadn’t, but it wasn’t like he had done anything to try and help himself keep his life private—he had been too attention-seeking when he was young, he was too stuck in his ways as an adult. Ollie had never had a chance. He hadn’t gotten the attention he needed after his parents died—which, he knew, was childish to hold onto—and he had grown into this habit of being a public troublemaker just to get someone to notice him past paying his tuition. Oliver unbuckled his belt and stumbled out of the car, nearly falling out onto the street but catching himself with a hand to the pavement. He stopped moving, righting himself before he stood up fully. “I’m fine.” He walked in a sort of zig-zag, a hand at his throat to unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt as he stumbled towards the railing at the edge of the street, the drop down into the Hudson River just below him. “It’s almost like we’re out in nature here, Ben!” 

[oliverflynn]

tedfitzgeralds‌:

Ted could’ve let FitzTech fall through his fingers as soon as his dad signed it over. He could’ve abandoned it and continued to go on his excavations– which he really did consider– but his mother worked far too hard on the company. He wasn’t going to let her years and years of hard work crumble just because she wasn’t around to take care of it. Ted saw himself as the only person capable of continuing his mothers work. His dad never paid attention that when she passed, he had no idea what the research team was even doing. 

“You know, I thought about staying to negotiate for more– I just didn’t want you to miss me too much.” he teased as he paced around the office. Ted was really just lucky to get the 50 grand. He hated the negotiating and really any business outside the comfort of his lab, but it had to be done or he’d be nowhere with no money. “Poland’s having issues with inefficient production methods, I got a call in Japan that they’d be willing to visit and have a look.” He mentioned, walking back to the desk to lean over and watch Ollie as he signed. 

Oliver couldn’t help but admire Ted. He was meant to be in this work, way more than Ollie ever was, and part of the reason why he squirmed around Ted (other than...well, that reason) was because he was terrified of being found out as a fake. A fraud. An imposter. Oliver knew that Ted would be able to smell it on him, that he would figure out that Ollie was never meant to be the boy with the silver spoon in his mouth and he would have been much happier with much less than what he had. Maybe that made him a bad person—poor little rich boy, complaining about how hard it was to grow up with everything—but he couldn’t help but feel like he wanted to crawl out of his skin sometimes. When Ted showed up, it was the best part of his day. 

He glanced up for just a split second, feeling his heart rate speed up slightly as Ted leaned over him. “Well, I’m sure you can handle it,” he replied, signing his large, looping signature across the bottom of the page before looking up at Ted. Realizing that he was much closer than Oliver had originally gauged it, he swallowed once, unable to take his eyes off Ted’s face as he held the paper up towards him. Even for all his lothario ways, Ollie still turned into a bumbling mess when he had a crush. “All signed,” he said, his blue eyes wide with some mixture of anxiety and excitement. 

[oliverflynn]

@laraldaine liked for a starter!

Oliver hadn’t seen her since Paris. Of course, he was invited to most Vogue events, between his increasing notoriety for doing crazy nonsense on the Instagram for the Flynn Foundation and his impeccable style, but this was the first time he had seen Lara at anything. He immediately ditched the woman he had come with—she wasn’t all that interested in him anyway, already flirting with someone else. Ollie figured that would happen—he was not nearly as rich or interesting as some of the other people here, and he wasn’t trying all that hard, anyway. He smoothly picked up a glass from the tray of a passing waiter, almost suddenly sliding up to her and holding out the glass, cutting into her conversation. “Lara,” he greeted warmly, leaning forward and leaving a kiss on her cheek. “It’s been too long.” Oliver had a way of sweeping in and monopolizing someone’s attention, even as the person behind him made an indignant noise in the back of their throat. 

[oliverflynn]

florienneadcins‌:

                         IT was three-thirty on a Monday, the June heat, extensive, though the building for Flynn Industries, a prominence displayed through modernity, all monochromatic shades of black, grey and white, sleek wooden panels and immense windows with natural light filtering in barely felt as if it was the season of summer, unless one was stepping from outside the building, feeling a stark contrast between the atmospheres. Ford, loitering and waiting for the water to boil, was conversing with a colleague about the latest developments in a project before a man entered, blatantly distressed as to how his meeting with the CFO just went, the man attracting Ford’s attention, instantly, as if she could sense Oliver from four floors down, before footsteps diverted towards him. “He’s holed up in his office, says he wants to see you.” The man commented, before releasing an unenthused breath, “he should just ring one of those little cat bells,” another chimed in, though she knew they were joking, she didn’t like that they joking about Oliver, he had enough on his mind without trivial quips, though it was a stupendous structure, so perhaps a signal would be helpful, but she was usually seated at her desk, the only reason she was down here so she could one, make tea and two, pick up proposals from Mr Van Der Leest. Grasping the tray, Ford started up the stairs, knowing the elevators would be more trouble than they’re worth before knocking on Oliver’s door, cautiously. “Don’t worry, I’m here,” she returned, a faint trace of a smile when she heard Oliver’s demand (only Ford), before dimming the lights so it was a more comforting setting and better for the eyes, instead of those horrendous fluorescents. “I brought you Feverfew tea, it’s supposed to help release any tension that might cause a headache later, and calm any anxiety you might be feeling, wait a few minutes for it to take effect.” She instructed, aware he would be impatient, before placing the trey on the coffee table situated next to him. Her knees folded as she got eye level with Oliver, a little difficult since she was in a skirt, but she made it work, for him, she did a lot of things, for him and not because he paid her, but because she genuinely cared about him and vice versa, even if he didn’t always display it. At the end of the day, it felt like them against the world. “I can reschedule your last two meetings until Wednesday morning, let you take the service elevator down so no one will distract you and have a car ready and waiting before you even approach. Now, what do you want to eat, because I know you haven’t eaten anything, all day and don’t even try to lie to me, saying you snuck a protein bar in between meetings. You have to take care of yourself, or at least make me do it,” she quipped, the corners of her lips caressing and curving into a supple smile. 

The word they used at Flynn for all the assistants to the c-suite positions was analyst. It was fitting. Ford was way better at analyzing situations, figuring out what was necessary and getting it before Oliver even needed it. He was good at his job—he was always good with numbers. Numbers made sense. Being a CFO was all about numbers—and all about being charming, especially when it came to the actions of the Flynn Foundation. You had to have a certain flair about you to be able to charm millions of dollars out of unsuspecting donors—and Oliver was exceedingly good at it. He wasn’t all that good at doing that sort of thing in real life—he never knew how to make people stick around—but he could do it for the family business. Maybe that said more about him than he wanted to admit. 

Oliver groaned as she spoke, lifting his hands to his eyes and rubbing at them with the heels of his palms. “I hate when you give me that witch tea. I swear it gives me nightmares.” He was only grumbling to be contrary, however—he knew that whatever she did for him, it worked, and she knew that too. They knew each other inside and out, which was a terrifying prospect. Ollie tried not to think about it too much. If he had an internal crisis and fired her, his life would fall apart. He dropped his hands from his eyes and rested them on his stomach, turning to look at her. “I don’t like it when you do that thing. You know, where you know me too well.” 

He sat up slowly, letting out another soft groan as he righted himself, picking up the mug she had put down. “Cheers,” he said gloomily and took a sip. “I don’t care. Bring me whatever.” He paused. “Something kind of gross. I want baseball stadium food.” Oliver had gone to Mets games with his dad when he was a really little kid. That kind of atmosphere, any piece of it—usually the food—made him feel a little better without fail. 

[oliverflynn]

@conspircd liked for a starter!!

Oliver slid his way across the gleaming floor towards her, a vision in a sleek dress. He wasn’t all too shabby himself, clad in a slim gray suit that looked purple when the light bounced off it at just the right angle. He held a flute of champagne out. “I hope you’re liking the party,” he said lightly, wiggling the glass at her lightly to get her to pluck it from between his slender fingers. “God knows it cost a fortune.” He took a swig of the champagne. “How else am I supposed to get these hoity-toits to donate?” Oliver looked at his glass for a moment, paused, then tilted his head back and swallowed the entire drink in one go. He figured that if he had to be here for this, he could at least try to have a good time. Or, more accurately, black out on everything that he knew was going to grate on his nerves. He pressed his lips together for a moment, flicking his tongue out between them. “I should get more of these.” 

[oliverflynn]

i’m around and i’m working on replies! plz lmk if u want something!!

[oliverflynn]

heyo everyone, just letting u all know i’ll get on after work today!! i have been swamped doing my internship w an hour and a half commute rip but i will FINALLY push out all those starters today and tomorrow!!

[oliverflynn]

i just started an internship which is 40 hours a week so while i’m still adjusting to my new schedule i’ll be doing like 3-4 drafts/starters per char per day so if i don’t get to your draft on rusty, ollie or helena today, i’ll definitely get to it tomorrow or thursday! 

[oliverflynn]

@drxcollins liked for a starter!!

Ollie was leaning back against the seat in his car, staring out the window with a sort of dreamy expression on his features. Oliver was a dreamer, through and through, that much was for sure, and he had a tendency to veer off into his own mind. Especially late at night. Especially when he was drunk. “Benny,” he said suddenly, turning to look at his friend and propping his head up on his knuckles, his arm braced against the door of his car. “You ever think that you should have been born as something else?” he asked. “You know, like—I don’t know, a different person.” Oliver thought about this quite often. He went back to looking out the window. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me.” He pressed his cheek against the palm of his hand as he admired the view from the bridge as they crossed over the water, glittering with a mixture of moonlight and reflections of high-rises. Oliver felt a strong affinity for New York, even if he had spent most of his childhood outside of the city. He always associated New York with his parents, and even if he was an adult, he was still a kid—he needed some parental guidance. 

[oliverflynn]

ofbcllerinas‌:

                    *・ﾟ — IF DOMINIQUE COULD PICK A FEELING out of the whirlwind creating in her mind, it would be the ever-growing longing for home. A craving picking at the edges of her stomach, it was a plunged deep to the heart making the organ ache and burn, and a soreness in her bones making them cry for France. She could visit now, any hour she wanted to — the thought making the scar on her side hurt as if it was freshly made - but she would always want more. To be curled in her apartment with fresh flowers sitting at her open window, help her maman with the store and get dirt under her nails, sit at her favorite café and be blissfully unaware of the world. But she could not, could never stay, and the thought was devastating. She had a life in New York, and she could not abandon it all for France. No matter how many times she found herself wishful looking at her bags, absentmindedly wondering how long it would take to pack them. No. The closest she had of home was this French bakery, which smelt of fresh croissants and was owned by a lovely French couple. Not enough, her heart protest, but we will have to settle for this and for our friends, her brain argued. Talking of which —

                   "Monsieur Oliver,“ she called to her dearest friend as she spotted him, gently closing her book and placing it down on her table as the corners of her mouth curled into a smile. "Monsieur, I thank you for coming. I really needed to see a friendly face.”

@oliverflynn

Oliver had spent more than a little time in Paris, sleeping his way across the city on his family inheritance—which was larger than he could have ever known what to do with—and pretending that he didn’t have any ambition. It was close to the truth, but what was even closer to the truth was that he was quite sure what his ambition was. The hard truth was that he did know, but he was too afraid to act on it. Yet. Perhaps one of these days he’d do everything he had dreamed of, but he was still just a kid, crushed by the weight of his parents’ ghosts and generally expected to maintain a certain level of decorum, a facade meant to prove to everyone that he was ultimately harmless. An overgrown child, a funny guy, but ultimately harmless. He knew that and he would live with it. He didn’t know how to stand up for himself. 

But the little things got him through the day, like seeing Dominque when he had a chance, leaning on Ford for help, catching someone checking him out from across a crowded bar. Small things kept his life going. As he walked up to the table, he leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Bonjour, ma belle,” he said, speaking easily in the American-tinted French he hard learned during aforementioned time in France. “Sorry I’m late, but—well, you know how I am.” Oliver was late to the point of it being pathological. He didn’t know how to be on time to anything. 

[oliverflynn]

 @florienneadcins liked for a starter!!

Ollie was lying on the sofa in his office, a cushion pressed over his face as he tried to block out the rest of the world. Hearing the knock on the door only elicited a groan from him, and he dragged the cushion down to his chest, where he hugged it against him. “Ford’s the only one allowed in here now,” he warned, craning his neck so he could look towards the door to see her walking in. He sighed and dropped his head back down against the armrest. “I need to go home and I can’t come up with an excuse.” Ollie was always a terrible liar, so he usually just pushed through when he got a case of “the sads” as he called them, for lack of a better way to describe how he felt. “Aides-moi,” he pleaded before lifting the cushion back to his face. It was rarely this bad, so, of course, he reverted even further back into his man-child personality, needing everything to be taken care of for him if he was going to be able to get through it. No one ever said he wasn’t spoiled—and even though he didn’t ask for it much, just the fact that he had someone who could deal with the rest of the day for him was a mark of the quality of life Oliver led. Perhaps what redeemed Ollie was how generous and kind he was, how much he actually adored Ford as a person and didn’t judge her for leaving, nor for coming back. She was the one who was there for him.

[oliverflynn]

tedfitzgeralds‌:

FitzTech started working on the advancement of perfusion bioreactors about 3 months ago. Ted was more than glad to work with Ollie, he’d known him since they were kids and never minded joining forces with other companies. Normally, if something needed to be signed, Ted would just have his secretary send it out and return it back to Ted. Though, true to Ted’s nature, he found himself waltzing into Ollie’s office just after a 2 week trip to Japan trying to gather more donors for their project.

“I’ve got something for you to sign.” Ted said without knocking, dropping the light stack of papers in front of Oliver. He glanced him over with a small smirk before standing awkwardly, hand pushed into his pants pockets. “Japan offered fifty grand.” Ted raised his brows with a nod. “Pretty damn good amount to get our feet off the ground now.”

@oliverflynn​

Oliver was good at his job. He wasn’t the perfect person, nor did he have his whole heart in this, but he was doing what needed to be done and he was close enough to be able to keep an eye on what his uncle was doing. He was starting to get the sinking feeling that something wasn’t right in the company and he didn’t know what he could do about it until he was able to catch them in the act. He was leaning back in his chair and considering this, completely lost in thought when his secretary showed Ted in. He flinched back into reality, blinking a few times as he looked at the stack of papers on his desk. 

“Nice to see you, too, Ted,” he said, picking up a pen as he scanned through the pages in front of him. “50? Seems like they could commit for more.” Oliver was always fretting about the budget. He was generally an anxious person, but even with his doubts, he signed his looping signature on the last page. He trusted Ted—and was too flustered to say anything else. 

[oliverflynn]

i’m going to be around all day getting into my drafts and starters!! if you all want anything with ollie, helena or rusty please let me know!!

[oliverflynn]

we ended up opening on a weekend when im fully booked im UPSET (especially since im currently at the dmv) but im around for messages and will be digging into starters i owe later tonight or tomorrow morning!

[oliverflynn]

ok y’all im at work so i have to go wlskjdfls but i’ll be around later tonight for more stuff!! go like my starter calls HERE, HERE, and HERE or hit me up and we can chat about plots!!

[oliverflynn]

like/reply to this for a starter!

if you have multiple characters, please specify which character you’d like it for!

[oliverflynn]

ok yall i have to sign off because oof i have a final at 9 am tomorrow for my anthropology class and...i couldn’t tell ya what evolved between 2mya and homo sapiens so i gotta STUDY