All I Do Is Win

Silent Night: What is your favorite Christmas tradition?

Joy to the World: Any New Years resolutions?

O Come All Ye Faithful: Is Christmas a religious or a secular holiday for you?

Deck the Halls: How does your family decorate?

Oh Holy Night: What do you do on Christmas eve?

Away in a Manger: Favorite Christmas Movie?

The First Noel: Do you have a favorite tree ornament?

Oh Tannenbaum: Does your family get a real tree every year or do you have a fake one?

Good King Wenceslas: Do you hang stockings up?

Patapan: Are you traveling for Christmas this year?

God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen: What's the earliest Christmas memory you have?

The Little Drummer Boy: Josh Dun.

The Holly and the Ivy: Favorite christmas dessert?

Ding Dong Merrily on High: Favorite Christmas piece of clothing? (Hat, sweater, etc?)

We Wish You A Merry Christmas: Does your family send Christmas cards?

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing: Do you still believe in Santa? If not when did you stop?

We Three Kings: What do you want for Christmas?

Angels we Have Heard on High: Angel or star on the top of the tree?

Lo, How A Rose: What's your Christmas dinner menu?

Why she fought him? Josie couldn’t tell you because after all of these years, two things were evidently clear: she wasn’t going anywhere and neither was he. You know what they say, you never forget your first and there from damn near the beginning, there’s a familiarity and comfort with Oliver that Josie doesn’t have with most of her clients. Which, to this day, she can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad thing. Currently, she’s leaning towards bad when Jojo casually falls from his lips. “You’ve known me for how long? When have I ever called you Oli-Bear or ran into your arms? You really need to start separating your fantasies from reality, we’ve discussed this ad nauseam.” His explanation does little to calm her irritation, the boop to her nose earning Oliver a light but still stern slap to his hand as a result. “Don’t do that.” Moving past him to head towards her deck, bending down to pick up the papers he carelessly dropped onto the floor. “You do realize you can’t bullsit a bullshitter, right?” She stated when she rose up, dropping the papers onto her desk and settling one hand on her hip. “Wooing in Oliver Barrymore-land means getting day drunk or giving some poor, dumb CW actress false hope as she sucks your dick.” WIth the bluntness in her tone, her Boston accent slips out. “Yes, I make miracles happens and can move mountains but when I tell you to show up somewhere, you fuckin’ show up!  I worked for months to get that piece for you. We’re supposed to be a team here. How am I supposed to do my job if you won’t work with me, huh? I swear, you get some sick pleasure out of me making me look like a god damn idiot.”

He could only watch as she went into a full-on rant with a smile, holding in his laughter so that Josie didn’t completely lose it. She was right though: never in her life had she ever said or done either of those things and never would she. That didn’t stop Oliver from insinuating ti could happen though; especially when he knew it annoyed her. “You can’t fault a man for dreaming, can you? What about that night you got all drug and clingy with your sorority sisters and I offered you a ride home? You were pawing all over me, I could barely drive. I had to shove you inside your house and close the door and run just to get away from you. All you wanted that night was to be in my arms.”  He smirked, genuinely amused by his own fan fiction and contemplating a career as a writer when his imagination was this good.

“Tsk, Tsk, Jojo -- that language is far too colorful for the workplace.” He scolded teasingly before helping himself to a drink. Sighing, he fucked up, deep down he knew it, but when had he ever been on time? Still, knowing better than to fault her for his poor choices, he took a sip and turned back to her. “ And.... let’s say fifty....eighty...Mmm, ninety...five percent of the time you would be right, but this time I actually was meeting an investor.” He swore as if she would believe him either. ”He --because it was a he -- was interested in the great magic of celluloid and I heard through a friend of a friend who arranged a meet-up and things ran a  little heavy.”  He then sighed and put down the glass and moved back towards her. “And we are a team, but we wont be one if every single movie Disney puts out makes a billion and we’re in the 5k million dragging behind. Putting more money into production value to make a movie more appealing means we go bankrupt for the risk or with poke at the one percent on their private islands to give us their money instead of investing it in captains. You know this better than anyone. It’s our livelihood.” He actually sounded serious, which he was, even though it was rare. Oliver fooled around more often than not, but on occasion reminded people that he too, went to Yale and learned a thing or two in the classroom as well as outside of it. “Getting my dick sucked I do for me, but kissing billionaire’s asses I do for us. Who else is going to feed your shoe habit if I don’t?”

“That’s because if I don’t work, who else is going to pay for you lavish shopping sprees and high end hookers?” Vince may’ve had one failed marriage behind him but he was convinced Oliver happily took up the role formerly held by now his ex-wife. Case and point: nagging him to death when he was trying to work. “Honey…” Vince stated as a warning, eyes still glued to the page. When he was hyper focused it was hard for his attention to stray, even at his own detriment. About to page, the script suddenly being pulled out of his hands had Vince’s jaw looking as he looked at his partner with a crazed expression. Vince knew Oliver meant well and while Vince had no issues working hard and playing harder, during business hours at least he tried to be somewhat of professional. If he didn’t, how the fuck else would any work around here get done? “It’s not like I had a choice in the matter” Vincent huffed before snatching the bag out of his hand. “Whether I wanted to or not, you weren’t not going to talk my ear off about your tales wining and dining with Rich Househusbands of Beverly Hills.” Not so gracefully stuffing a few fries into his mouth, he circled back to a previous comment before giving Oliver the floor he oh so desired. “And when you’re done gossiping like a giddy high schooler, you can talk about your fantasies of me stuffed in a sixteenth century costume and how you want to whisk me away like a damsel.”

“Well my actual daddy...” Oliver answered under his breath, though he quickly washed it back down with a drink he’d poured himself. He knew he was essentially the bank, but Oliver didn’t like bragging about his money to Vincent anymore than he liked admitting that if at any moment their company went under, Oliver would still be under the financial aid of his father’s fat bank account and his mothers pampering of him that pushed his father to keep giving him what he wanted. Still, Oliver, while his future being secure kept him light and carefree, much rather enjoyed having his own money the company made than having to listen to what a waste of money, air, and flesh he was as his father signed a check. Are the booze burn wore off, Oliver chuckled at being called honey, Vince knowing how to keep a gag going like no other. “ Well I brought you food, I might as well present entertainment along with it.”The blond teased as he moved to the other end of Vince’s desk. “ Oh, you think I want to spend my morning letting a very heavy set man in his seventies win at racquetball so he can  rub it in my face as he stuffs his with Eggs Benedict just so he puts up half the money to make Deadpool 3? I nearly lost my appetite watching Hollandaise drip down all four of his chins.” Oliver paused to gag at the memory for dramatic effect, riding the dramatics into a shocked look and a gasp -- hand on his chest and all-- that would make on think he missed his calling as an actor. “How did you know about that! You read my diary, didn’t you?!”

Oliver is in your office. Squeaked out the assistant, who nervously peered her head into the conference room Josie had been inside. Holding up a single, perfectly manicured finger to signal she’d be there in a minute, Josie wrapped up the staff meeting she was in before heading towards her office. Designer heels click clacked against the office floors, trying to reign in the dangerous mix of annoyance and frustration that were often mixed when it came to her dealings with Oliver. Despite her demeanor, she didn’t dislike Oliver when he was good he was great but when he wasn’t, he was a pain in her ass. He brought flowers!  The brunette added, clearly falling for Oliver’s charm. “Push my next meeting back an hour, will you?” Josie sternly stated before opening the door and stepping into her office. “Get out of my chair, Oliver.” She gritted out, closing the door and locking it behind her. “And no, it’s not a shame because I deal with enough of your shit – don’t need to add a sexual harassment claim to that list.” Her eyes than narrowed, at the man, arms folding across her chest. “I’m not some prep school cheerleader, nothing about me is perky. Quit trying to deflect, I know you missed that meeting with Endeavor earlier today. Do you know how long I had to fight to get you that feature for the upcoming issue?!” 

“Oooh, a whole hour. What fun.”Oliver grinned as Josie entered her office.  Of course he was met with disdain, but that was far from new and didn’t put him off or make his smile fade any. “ But it’s so comfy?And it that really how you’re going to greet me all this time? No European kiss and an ‘Oliver Daahhling’? Not even running into my arms with an ’Oh Oli-bear, how I’ve missed you!’ ?I’m hurt,Jojo.” He grinned, holding back a snort as she covered her chest and shaking his head.”Well you must have not looked in the mirror this morning. Perky and supple are great words I’d use, but you said no sexual harassment,so...”Sighing dramatically and throwing his feet off the desk,a few stray papers falling off in the process, Oliver listened to the stern scolding from the publicist. She was only doing her job and had a right to be angry, but Oliver simply stayed quiet as he made his way over to her.”I was in another meeting! It ran late. You know I have to keep the investors happy, Jojo,it’s my job. And your job is to explain how sorry I am and reschedule the shoot. And I know you can cause you’re so good at it,that’s why I hired you.” He added with a boop to the tip of her nose. The truth was that he hired her because of her looks, but it just so happened to turn out that she not only shared his alma mater but was the best in the business. Vince and Oliver argued often over which was the perk. “ Look, it’s not as easy as having a can of Sprite in the background,okay? These people are investing millions in hopes of getting twice as much back, I have to sweet talk them and make sure they know what’s going on,and that takes up some time. Some wooing. And you know how dedicated I am to my wooing.”

Somehow, someway Vincent and Oliver not only launched a production company but a successful one at that. With no real clue as to what they were doing or how they were going to make it happen, over a decade later and the pair has made their mark on Hollywood. Making their own rules and doing things their way, their methods were probably frowned upon by the elitist, old school Hollywood filmmakers but Vince wouldn’t have it any other way. Their knack for pushing boundaries is what’s made them so successful. Hell, even how Vince and Oliver functioned as business partners wasn’t what some would deem as ‘normal’. Oliver was the sweet talker, the one who could convince studio heads and investors to pour millions of dollars into one of Vince’s crazy ideas he had to make happened. While Vince was the one who could schmooze with filmmakers and find a diamond in the sea of bullshit to make it a success. They worked and that understanding of the other’s strengths is what’s made them work so well as partners. Flipping through one script out of the large stack that was piled on his desk, he knew it was Oliver without having to look up. Despite his stomach rumbling at the smell of food, he was too focused on the script to allow his attention to stray. “Sweetheart…” Vincent stated, letting out a dramatically playful sigh. “Now is not the time, Daddy is busy with work.

Well,at least he wasn’t angry with him,that was something.A closer look at the papers in Vince’s hands revealed scripts, no doubt the next blockbuster hiding among them that Vincent was working hard to find while Oliver was out socializing and calling it work. ”Awww, but you never have time to play with me anymore!” Oliver pouted, swinging his legs childishly for a moment before righting himself and reaching for the script to pluck from his partner’s hands.” Well, I do love it when you call me sweetheart, but that wont distract me. Pause. Eat. I’m sure there’s nothing on your stomach besides glorious abs and pure muscle,which is wonderful, but you still need to consume protein to maintain your Adonis like figure, and that means you have to eat something. Pussy doesn’t count.” Oliver smiled as he held the bag in front of Vince,fanning the scent towards the man. “While you take preventative measure not to faint like a sixteenth century maiden in a too-tight that while makes her breasts look fantastic,shortens her lifespan -- thank you, girl I took that English History course for -- I can tell you about my day and how well things are going for me because I’m charming, rich, and handsome and can get away with everything.”

It wasn’t his assistant’s fault he missed a meeting, but he would blame his assistant anyway -- it was better than taking blame for it because he was day drinking in a country club with family friends. That in itself should have counted as a meeting, but Oliver knew saying that would only get him scolded even more.  He preferred instead, to do the damage and apologize after with gifts and promises and if need be, pouting, as it worked every time.  Well, most of the time -- the target today was particularly stern and often left unswayed his charms. Still, what girl didn’t love flowers? That was why he carried a few dozen apology roses and breezed past the pleading secretary and made himself comfortable in Josie's office, as he hadn’t expected her to be out.  With a shrug he set the flowers on a table at the side before making his way to her chair, warm sun on his face as he reclined back, feet on her desk,and drifted away a bit. It was relaxing, until Josie came back, Oliver feeling her glare even with his eyes closed. He smiled thought, sitting up a bit and looking at her. “Don’t you look pretty today? It’s really a shame you can’t freely compliment a woman's features without being labeled a creep these days because you just have the perkiest.... attributes.”

Actors were a whole thing-- demanding, dramatic, needy... Thankfully  Oliver came from a family of actors and new well how to deal with them In fact, he considered it part of his job. He knew how to sweet talk , to pacify, to coddle, and to calm, and it worked every time. Her took pride in it, too, since it was one of the few things he was good at. Everything else, his partner handled, and as a show of gratitude for that, Oliver often used his sweet talking and coddling skills to make Vince not feel as bad or as stressed about his workload.  Strolling in post brunch,  Oliver wasn’t heartless, bringing food for Vince, who had probably yet to eat, and espresso, offering a wink to Vince’s secretary before heading into his office. Kicking the door shut with his foot, Oliver paused by the door with a smile, but was unacknowledged. So he moved inward to Vince’s desk, setting the food down. Nothing. Oliver sighed. If Vince was annoyed at him for something or just busy, the surefire was to get his attention was to be annoying. Moving around the side of Vince’s desk, smile still in place as he perched himself on the man’s desk and posed, clearing his throat. “ I got a new suit.” He paused.” Tell me I’m pretty. “

Admin K, 31, EST

Oliver Barrymore

Thirty-seven

Producer/COO of Riot Entertainment.

A-Lister.

Admin K here previewing my trash son Oli. Son and heir to Hollywood itself ( at least that’s how he’d describe himself) Oliver is a whole lot of mess wrapped into one handsome package. He’s childish and friendly and fun-loving and can be very irresponsible at times but he’s got good qualities too. He’s loyal and caring and generous to his friends and to anyone he likes and gives without hesitation. He’s also obnoxiously optimistic.

He’s got a good bit of rich-boy quality hobbies that include but aren’t limited to sportsmanship on a low-impact scale most of the time (i.e. horseback riding and sailing) and the occasional game of racquetball, but his real passion (other than film) lies in fashion. He’s got more clothes than he knows what to do with, several of the same pairs of shoes, about 200 sunglasses in varying colors and a watch and wallet to match any outfit he puts together. His love of style and aesthetic goes beyond what’s on him but also where he lives, redecorating his place often and even making sure the paintings match the interior because he’s just that obnoxious.