#i feel really sorry for oliver bcs he was excited to bring this storyline to life

[megumismom]

if your first thought after this episode was to come on tumblr and post about tumblr/the 911 tag being a kink positive space in regards to the buck/tommy scene, I think it's safe to say YOU need to take a hard long look at yourself and think why is your first thought after such a shitty conversation 'yesss finally canon da*dy kink buck' and not 'why is this man making sexual jokes while buck is being emotionally vunerable after his father figure almost died'

[lideria]

Second Nature. | Doyoung

Request: Ahah, this was not a request I just really like to make myself suffer sometimes. This is about a childhood best friend who returns after a long time.

Author’s Note: I have kind of had this storyline already and whenever I looked at Doyoung I thought he would fit into it so well. This is a scenario rather than an imagine, so it might not be fully relatable. Plus, I’m sorry if this hurts you.

Warnings: THIS IS SAD, not proofread bc I suck at it, very downbeat pov, mentions of alcohol consumption/intoxication, mentions of divorce, mentions of injury, lots of emphasis on loneliness, plus there is a dog in this story so if you’re scared of doggies/you’re a cat person, I apologize. English is my second language so there might be errors! Let me know if there is more please!

Word Count: 11664 too many words for my own good really

Genre: ANGST, fluff, childhoodfriends!au, bestfriends!au, friendstolovers!au (???), two surprise AUs that I cannot say for the sake of the story.

I hope you all enjoy! If that’s even possible! Because I felt emotionally drained just by writing it!

“Catch me if you can!”

You let out a loud laugh as you start sprinting at full speed. Your friend and neighbor Doyoung lets out a shriek before picking up his pace, both of you running through and inevitably, over the green grass of your shared garden that is scattered with white and yellow flowers all around. Parents look at your way as they take a sip of their coffee, smiling under the mug. “Don’t sweat too much, it gets chilly in the evening!” His mother shouts when the two of you run close by them. One of you answers okay, but you both cannot make out who it is because the caution only falls on deaf ears.

He catches you when you are running close to the fence, catching you by your shoulders and accidentally pulling your hair. “Ow!” He hisses along with you as you turn back. You are very clearly pissed of, which only alarms him a little further. “Doyoung! I told you to be careful with my hair— it’s longer than yours.”

“I didn’t do it intentionally! I’m sorry. You can pinch my arm so we’re even.” He sticks his arm out, his blue and grey bracelet hanging off loosely from his wrist. “No, but I want a cookie.”

He audibly gasps. “I only have 3 left!”

When you shrug, he sighs and heads inside their vacation home. It takes him a few minutes to go to the front of the house where their kitchen is and come back and by the time he’s back, he finds you sitting at the bottom of the fence. Your face brightens up when you see him and his mother’s cookies, inarguably the best dessert to come after your mother’s. He sits next to you and hands the treasure. You still notice the frown on his face. And you hate seeing him upset.

So, you break the cookie in half— an imperfect half. You get the smaller piece to yourself and hold out the bigger half for Doyoung to take. He smiles the Doyoung smile and takes it before stuffing it in his mouth.

It was a bright, sunny day. You had been at the beach ever since the morning, now late in the afternoon, with Doyoung and his family and yours. Having a sandwich for breakfast and a picnic for lunch and snacks, swimming every other second in between. Both Doyoung and you loved swimming in the aqua blue waters that would occasionally change colors to a deeper blue. More specifically jumping from the pier in what you claimed to be “athletic poses” that were, in reality, sad yet funny excuses for superhero jumps.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, honey, but I think Doyoung had that one.” Your father says when both of you climb up to the pier after your 7th jump, for the votes of your parents on who jumped better. “Yeah, I can’t jump quite as high. It’s because he plays volleyball,”  Doyoung snickers beside you with good intentions, but you still feel a little defeated. “It’s okay, you dive better than me.”

“That’s true, you suck at diving.” The realization of having said a bad word hits you both sooner than ever, and you both cover your mouths in surprise. He is smiling under his hand. You can tell because his eyes are squinting. His parents start laughing and Doyoung too lets go of the laughter he has been holding in. But of course, your parents do not look all that amused. “That’s another month before you get a pet.”

You switch to protest mode in an instant. “But it slipped from my mouth, I didn’t mean it!”

“Just because it slipped doesn’t mean it’s okay,” Your mother claims calmly, and you jump a little with frustration. “But—“

“Whining won’t get you closer to getting one.” Your father sternly adds. You stop immediately, rightfully kind of really upset. Everyone is silent until Doyoung pulls a little on your arm. You know what he means, so you let him drag you back towards the pier. Frustration stings at your eyes and Doyoung can sense it, so he nudges you a little. “Come on, don’t be sad. I’m sure a month will fly by.”

He does not receive any response, even though you argued there’s still at least a year internally. He kind of knew he would not be getting a response, because that is what you act like when you are upset. Seeing as you were, he crossed off the possibility of jumping off the pier with you for the time being. Instead he sat down at the end, dangling his legs, patting the spot next to him for you to sit. You follow his actions.

“Doyoung?” Your voice sounds like you were frowning. “Hm?” He does not look at you, because he does not like seeing people upset. “How is middle school? Is it fun?”

You were just going to be starting middle school, whereas he was going to begin his second year. As always he wanted to tell you the truth. Considering your mood, though, that might have not been the best idea. So he did not. “It is! Plenty of good friends,” Which was not necessarily a lie, but it definitely was not how it went for a lot of people. He feared you would be one of them, as you had a tendency to make friends with everyone and that was not how socializing went in middle school. But for all he knew, everything could be different and you could have an amazing middle school experience. “After school activities are really fun as well.” That definitely was not a lie. Doyoung loved volleyball. “I can’t wait to go back.”

“I’ll swim. That makes me happy.” And it must for real, because he hears the excitement in your voice.

He grins. “Then go for it.”

With that, Doyoung pushes you off the edge. Although surprised, you suspected he would do that subconsciously as he had a habit of pushing people into the water when they have just dried off to entertain himself— a rather evil habit that everyone hates. For payback you splash him with water. He splashes you back as if it would do anything, and you splash him again while calling him another bad word that your parents luckily would not be able to hear and soon enough, it turns into a splash fight.

It was the first day of Doyoung and his family’s arrival that year. You woke up feeling excited, because your best friend was finally here after a whole 5 days of waiting after your own arrival to the summer house. So you ran out to the garden right after breakfast, more than ready to see your friend.

Instead, you were not ready to see him all that much. At least not with his arm in a cast.

You go up to hug him as usual, and he mutters a low, disappointed “Hi.” In return, you give him a much brighter greeting in hopes of bringing his mood up. It does not work.

The day goes on. Both your families and you have a shared lunch, catching up on the previous 9 months they had not seen each other. Their moods are much higher than Doyoung’s and yours. His mood had made you inevitably moody as well. He was not up to play, he was not up to go to the beach, he was not up to go to the grove… It felt like he did not want to do anything. But it was summer. Not the time to be sulking around, even if his arm was in a cast.

Then came an idea.

There was a patch of young olive trees planted near your houses. They were only around the same height as you were, though it varied from tree to tree. You loved how the trees looked when they were passing through the road in between the patches a few days ago. So you only suspected Doyoung would like seeing them as well.

You run up to the parents and ask them if you could take him there. They agree without much hesitation, only warning you to make sure to stay off the road and to wear proper shoes to protect from the bugs and thorns.

Taking Doyoung there was a struggle. Making him agree to go was harder, but he also kept complaining how hot the weather was (as if it had never been that hot before) and how he was too tired (which he should not have been, because you knew he tended to sleep on car rides, and it was an overnight drive for them to get here).

But the second you arrive at the patch, something changes.

He smiles in awe at seeing just how small the trees are and how they shine under the sunlight. You both sit under one of the trees, both of your heads touching some leaves, and it leaves a funny feeling on your heads. You both giggle for quite some time until it just starts feeling nice.

“What happened to your arm?” The question was impossible to hold back, and you thought talking about it would make him feel better. The tone in his voice makes you not so confident about that. “I was dipping to hit the ball, and the arm I wasn’t using— I wasn’t paying attention to it. It twisted and snapped when I landed on it, and now I don’t know if I can play volleyball anymore.” Doyoung lets a sigh out then and it is full of feelings you cannot make out the heavinesses of, because you lacked the experience.

You hiss with attempted empathy. “What are you gonna do instead?”

He sighs again but you can make the feeling behind it out this time, it is annoyance. “My music teacher wrote my name down for a conservatoire, and both mom and dad really wants me to go. Even my brother wants me to go. Weird.”

“Singing sounds nice.” But Doyoung does not look too keen on the idea. In spite of it you smile, hopeful. “If he’s saying you should go, then you have to sing for me sometime.”

He chuckles at that and looks at you as if you suggested something out-of-worldly crazy. “Yeah. Sure. Don’t depend on it.” Then he looks down and whines upon seeing his arm and the sun hitting it— the black cover on his cast. “Ugh, it’s so hot and itchy. I can’t even swim this summer and it’s only the start,” His mouth twitches and wobbles a bit the moment he is done complaining, and you frown, even though the fact that he only realized his arm was making him feel uncomfortable when he looked at it still makes you want to laugh a little. “I’m sorry.”

Doyoung throws you the crazy look again. “I was the idiot, why would you be sorry?” There was genuine curiosity in his voice before he chuckles breathily, in what might be disbelief. You pull on his blue and grey bracelet. The beads looked okay, but the strings were a bit worn off. “We’re best friends?” You suggest, to ring a bell more than anything.

He nods just once, agreeing, examining his bracelet when he notices your gaze on it. “We should really change the strings. Yours look terrible too.”

You look down at your bracelet, green and red like a watermelon as 8-year-old Doyoung had said, and mumble. “Yeah, we really should.”

The idea comes that very second. You just seemed to beam with ideas today. “We can put the beads in your pocket and tie the strings onto the branch. A friendship tree, yes?”

He looks up and smiles. “Okay. I guess to keep in peace as well.”

You had to help him every step of the way because he lacked an arm and through the experience you come to learn that an arm is a very serious lack of a thing. Through the summer he could not do much functioning until they had to leave to get his cast off around a month and a half later, and in turn you chose not to swim when he was at the beach reading books while accompanying his parents and yours. Instead you chatted with him and put handfuls of sand in his t-shirt (being careful not to get any in his cast, of course, partly for your own safety as well) every time he told you to just go and swim, until he was too pissed off at you.

And you stayed with him and offered a piece of your mother’s tiramisu as he cried for the first time ever since the first year you met, after he got the news that his arm was in too fragile of a condition to play volleyball again. Because that was all you could do.

A chilly night, sitting on top of one of the low branches of a random tree close to your shared backyard. It would be scary if you couldn’t see the lights coming off from your houses. Or if birds were not still chirping through the calm silence. But as you sat there, blueberry muffins in your hands, it was almost comfortable. If not for the bumpy bark you had been sitting on, of course.

It was the last days of summer. More and more people were leaving, closing off their summer houses for the duration of off-season. Doyoung and his family would be leaving tomorrow, whereas you and your family would stay for just a few days longer simply because everybody loved this place with its variety of trees and its beach.

“Are you excited you’ll get to compete this year?” Doyoung asks suddenly. You nod immediately and with eager. “I’m gonna win gold.” The sheer ambition in your claim makes Doyoung chuckle, which annoys you a little. He had started doing that a lot this summer, laughing at the stuff you would claim. You look at him as if to ask why he laughed even though you know he was going through the weird phase and lucky for him, he gets the signal. Then he shrugs. “I don’t know. Winning seems important for everyone and it’s silly. Just enjoy what you’re do—“

His voice cracks. “—ing.”

You try your best not to laugh, honestly. But he breaks first, so it is only fair that you start laughing too. His voice had been doing that for almost half of this summer, which was apparently a sign of growing up.

Puberty, being a preteen and all that. You had your fair share of experiences. It was funnier when it was not happening to you.

You mock his voice when you give him an answer. “I’ll just enjoy what I’m doing!” His eyes widen a little at that and he turns a little further towards you in surprise. “Hey, that sounds like how I sound in my head!”

Both of you lose it at the silliness of the sentence, it hurts your stomach after a while. It also takes a lot of effort to not slip from the branch and fall down onto the ground. What cuts through your laugh sooner than expected was his mother calling him back, shouting quite loudly that they would be leaving before sunrise and that he needed his sleep so he should better come back before she locks the door and goes to sleep.

The way down is faster and easier than the way up had been. Doyoung stuffs the remainder of his blueberry muffin in his mouth before clapping his hands together a couple of times to clean them of crumbs. He turns to tell you that the two of you better hurry up, but the way your face looks stops him. “I’m gonna miss you,” These exact words would always leave your mouths when it was someone’s time to leave this place and the reality of not being able to see each other for another 9 months set in.

Doyoung visibly relaxes, knowing nothing was wrong. “I’m gonna miss you too. But it’s okay, it’s just 9 months— we always wait that much. Plus,” He smiles widely. “You’ll finally have a pet next summer.”

“And you’ll sing.” He shakes his head immediately. “Please?” You press your chances because it was annoying what he was doing to you. He had never played volleyball with you when he used to play (even though it was rightfully so, as you were terrible at it) and now that he was actually really good at singing (proof being that he had taken part in several shows his conservatoire organized) he would deny you the chance to hear. You were best friends. That basically gives you the right to hear his singing.

Something changes in him, as his eyes widen slightly. “You know what? If you actually manage to get a pet, I will. Deal?” You know he thinks you cannot manage to do it. But you can. So you take it.

“Deal.”

Doyoung and his family do not come next summer.

Or, rather, for several next summers.

You ask your mother the first summer he is not there, your arms on the counter and your head resting on top as you watched her cook. “Mom, Doyoung’s not coming?”

She was washing off some produce from your garden to make a salad before they went bad when you hit her with the question. You do not get an answer, and she does not slow down, so you ask again after a few seconds when she takes out a knife and the chopping board. “Oh, his father has a different work schedule now,” She answers, slicing the cucumber. “They can only use the house on spring breaks.”

Heartbroken, you turn back around to go back into the living room to play with your puppy along with your father.

On the third summer, you hear various tumbling sounds coming from outside and the faint voices of your parents through the glass. The sun is barely up, the sky a pretty pink. You hear voices of a couple of old people. Maybe more, but you cannot make it out, as sleep was fighting with you to rest just a bit longer.

There is darkness for a while. Second time you wake up the sky looks more peachy with hues of yellow. The tumbling sounds have left their place to the sound of slamming metal doors and old engines that you think can only belong to trucks, but the noise is okay, because within less than five minutes the vehicles leave.

You ask about it at breakfast. Your father takes your hand in his as he drops his cutlery, and tells you he is sorry, before revealing that Doyoung and his parents had sold the summer house. Betrayal (lighthearted betrayal which only has place in your heart during your teenage years) slowly washes over you and you stand up abruptly before mumbling something about finishing your breakfast in your room. With unshed tears in your eyes, you gather your plate and leave.

Both of your parents’ sighs are audible when you are climbing up the stairs.

By the fourth year, their house already starts to get the old, rustic, sultry look any abandoned house would get.

You grow every year, that much is sure. Your puppy does so at a much faster rate as well. Your parents get deeper wrinkles on their face. Spots on their hands. The trees get taller, thicker and older. The summer house starts smelling of nostalgia rather than just of sea salt and rarely used furniture. The beach gets even emptier than how it used to be. The grove gets lonelier and scarier. The produce of your garden loses its taste at some point. You slowly start to abandon the idea of going out to the backyard, except for the times you went out with your dog. Jumping off the pier gradually gets less fun than it once was. Your swimming partner has four legs instead of just two.

When you get your first phone, excitement washes over you with hope as company. You ask your mother if you can get Doyoung’s phone number if he has one, but she says that they have lost touch with his parents and that they do not speak to each other anymore.

Excitement leaves your body, and your smile falls.

Some couples of other years pass as time has no intention of stopping, and on one of them your father moves out. With one less person in your summer house, the emptiness grows bigger. With one less person in your summer house, the environment loses its golden glow. The leaves, even under the bright sunlight, only look a sad variety of greens. Rooms feel so much bigger. Memories start off as sweet remembrances, but they surely turn into hauntings when every single thing reminds you of one.

After your father leaves, the only person you have left in your summer house is your mother. The only things you have left is cooking and baking with her, walking around aimlessly, and sitting in the quiet at the pier with your only four-legged companion.

You slowly realize that childhood is gone. Never to come back. Growing up turns out to be loss of great people and great things, and it slowly starts to make sense why your parents kept telling you growing up and being a grown person is not as exciting as you were making them out to be when you were younger.

Summer loses its magic and grows weary. Yet, despite it all, the summer house remains as your safe space.

Because there is only the struggle of loneliness, unlike what the longer part of the years throw at you.

Yet loneliness does not prove to be much easier.

Growing up and going to college, moving out of the house took a toll on your relationship with your mother. It was not noticeable until the first time you came back for the summer break, when it started to seem like you ran out of things to talk about easily. Movie nights grew more frequent. Cooking and baking still were the fun things to do, at least.

It was not that you could not get along with her, or you had too many fights. Being around her was still comfortable. It was just that your mother could never be your friend, let alone your best friend. There were a fair amount of things you would not talk about with her. Even though she must know this, she would try to fill the gap Doyoung had left.

It was not possible. You suspected it never would be. Because he felt like second nature to you and he was gone. How could anyone replace second nature?

Her trying to fill the gap your father had left was one thing. The other was not all the same.

Summers got quiet and lonely after Doyoung left, yes. More so after your father left. But as you kept growing up and sharing less with your mother, the dimension of your loneliness shifted. It started feeling more like isolation.

And it was then, that you felt like true happiness started shifting away from you.

Your favorite time to hang out at the pier is around sunset hours.

The beach was the emptiest around that time and the night, because the general population was old and dinner preparation would keep them from going out from late afternoon and onwards. After sunset— the usual dinner time for most of the neighbors— porch lights would get turned on immediately. And when dark blue paints over the sky while the moon slowly comes out, the sounds of old neighbors visiting each other and chatting, sometimes playing games on their porch and laughing along would travel to the wooden pier where you would be laying down, listening to the wavering sea. It had quickly grown to be one of your fondest things about the summer.

That afternoon is no different. It is almost the golden hour on a hot day, and your dog is absolutely spent after a long walk so you both deserve to get a breather, really.

You move towards the end of the pier and sit down, alerting your dog gently to do the same. Her tail thumps repeatedly against the boards as she sits down looking at your hand. You cannot help but smile at her cuteness. Opening up the water bottle you had brought along, you place your palm under it curled like a bowl. Letting the water flow down carefully, you let her drink the water from your palm.

She ends up drinking most of the water in the bottle but still sweats afterwards. Happy and content despite sweating, she looks around and at the water, watching the few fishes that were swimming towards the seaweed bunched around the pier’s legs, wagging her tail in curiosity. You look at the water as well, but your mind is elsewhere. Wondering about your father.

He had promised you to come and visit before summer ended and here you were. Halfway through the summer— almost more than halfway.

Something in you started wondering if he would keep his promise a while ago. The hope that held onto the promise started dimming as the days went on.

You let a huff out in an effort to lighten the tightness in your chest. It works ever so slightly, and your companion turns her head to you. She has always had a talent in understanding when you were upset— maybe an instinct, and this time was no exception. She lies down next to you and nags at your hand. Giving in was too easy when it was her. You start petting her and letting her lick your hand and arm.

Perhaps it is magic, because her efforts of cheering you up works without any exceptions. Not giggling is impossible.

Her and you lay down, playing around for a while as her attempts of licking your face gets more frequent and although you adore her, you do not want to be licked on your face. It turns into a wrestle rather quickly. Her paws press on your stomach sometimes which is far from a pleasing experience and it is when she really just makes you nauseous that you force her down to a hug. It takes too much time huffing and puffing and annoyed-sneezing for her to calm down and stop wagging her tail but she stops eventually.

Literally seconds later there is the slightest creak on the boards and she picks her head up. The tail starts wagging and thumping again. You ignore it, wanting to cherish the moment.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for a certain someone, can you help?”

The familiarity of the upbeat voice pulls a weak string at your heart automatically. The string sends waves of electric all throughout your body and it surprises you how much it can burn still, after years of no contact, and it is only a familiarity.

Breathing deeply, you answer. “Unless you’re looking for your grandparents, I don’t think so.” The creaks get louder, nearer. Then they stop. The wagging tail is way too excited for its own good as the thumps get faster and harsher, and she starts getting excited again, trying to look at and smell whoever it is that stands near you.

A face hovers far above yours with a smile. “I don’t think I’m looking for my grandparents.”

Your breath hitches and you let your companion loose without meaning to. She wastes no time in jumping up and become acquainted with the intruder.

Except he is not. He is not an intruder. He is a familiar face. Hell, he is more than a familiar face. He is second nature.

And just one glance at his not changed but grown face takes all the betrayal, the disappointment, the feeling of having fallen out of place away. And it takes everything in you to not start crying on the spot. Instead you smile big, spring up onto your feet and throw your arms around his middle to hold him close, so close that he does not have the opportunity to leave, not now. His shoulder welcomes your face to nuzzle itself in and you take the advantage fully— shocked, even though it was an obvious fact, that he had grown so much. His arms find their places around your back comfortably. Hugging felt natural and safe but still weird to some extent, because it was not like how it was 8 years ago.

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?” Your voice still shakes even though you keep the tears inside. He places his chin on top of your head as you nuzzle closer and lets out a breath himself. “I think I do.”

After many minutes of hugging and letting the emotions out in the form of squeezes and nuzzles, both of you sit down where you were stationed before Doyoung appeared. One of his hands keep petting your four-legged best friend while he keeps his mouth occupied, talking to you to catch up in any way.

You could not stop looking at him. Taking it all in. Just how taller he had gotten— though not a giant like he had sometimes hoped he would turn out as, but you do not tell him that— and how sharper his facial features had gotten. Yet it comforted you how he had not changed. You could go back in time and look at him, and compare the two looks you had seen, and you could easily tell that this person in front of you was Doyoung.

His jet black hair, even, had not changed much at all. It was still in his face in some way. It was as if he had just physically grown up, and nothing had changed other than him growing taller and his features setting in place.

That comforted you, although you were not sure why.

Curiosity took over you as you kept chatting in the comfortable silence. There was so much to learn about him. It almost felt like you were meeting with a new person. Almost.

“Where are you even staying?” The question feels kind of uncomfortably intimate for you to ask after so much time, but you do not want to lose anything that you had with him. So it would only make sense for you to act as if it is still there. He does not seem to mind the question too much as the answer comes sooner than you would expect, without the awaited stare. “I’m crashing at a friend’s couch. He lives near here.”

“Who lives here all year?” You mumble in disbelief. But you trust him in telling the truth. He smiles back, looking around as if to check the environment. “Everything looks the same. This place aged well,” His gaze shifts back to you, warm and gentle. “I can’t say the same about you, though.”

There is nothing harsh about his words, but you cannot help but feel taken aback. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, not even bothered about your dog sweating over his leg as he keeps petting her. “A lot of things feel different about you. You look different too.”

“Is that to say I haven’t aged well?” You joke, making light of the situation. It would be a lie if you did not admit that his words did not hurt you in the slightest. Even though you knew that they held some truth value. He huffs, letting his head fall to the side, annoyed. Like the olden days. It makes you too happy to see it. “That wasn’t what I meant and you know it. There is just, something off about you, it hits you in the face.” He stops for a second to look at you properly again. You do not look offended, so he continues. “But I don’t think everyone would be able to notice it enough to make a deal about it, you know?”

It is your turn to shrug with one shoulder, and click your tongue a little, shaking your head as if this whole thing did not bother you. “Mm, I grew up,” He throws a look as if to say I know, but you keep on talking. “And I changed. Nothing too crazy.”

“You’re sweeping it under the rug, but I’m gonna let that go this once.” He says as your dog’s attention span on him expires, and she goes to lay down at the corner of the pier, a spot where she can have her own space and a rather okay view of the fish living down there. “This once?” You ask, unable to stop the hope from surfacing.

“Well,” Doyoung turns his body to face yours. He sits criss cross. “I’ll be around until the end of summer. I just assumed we can keep seeing each other?”

A laugh breaks through years of quiet summers as your heart flutters. “Of course, yeah.” Doyoung smiles back his smile, his one of a kind smile, and you have to pinch yourself to know this is not a dream.

It is not, and night had never come faster in years.

Getting to know your best friend for the second time was a weird experience. You had to ask him what he was studying since he was going to begin his senior year of university, to which he answers musical theatre. Upon that you smile a witty smile, pointing at your companion who picks her head up after she realizes she was being pointed at, and tell him that you had gotten a pet so he would have to sing to keep his promise.

He laughs and answers okay. But not now.

Within minutes, he updates you on almost everything. He tells you stories of this band he was part of where he formed his friend group, and how he had been picked up as the male lead for Tick, Tick… Boom! at the end of his sophomore year so he actually had to learn how to dance. Doyoung claims to not having been the greatest in it, so you ask with all the curiosity in your heart if he managed to get a date out of the musical. You get an answer of an overly confident of course, which tells you more than you need. Despite not having heard his singing, or having seen him dance, you tell him that he must have been amazing at it. When the argument comes you simply shut him up with the fact that he was picked as the lead.

Doyoung mentions not seeing his family for that summer because of the fact that school had ended only fairly recently, and because he could not not see this place anymore. He adds that he never even mentioned coming here to his family to eliminate any chances of them insisting he would go see them, and that he would really appreciate if you kept his presence here a secret from your parents as well. You agree to it, partly because he is still someone you could do anything for, and partly because the selfish feeling of wanting him to yourself only for a while.

The mood kind of goes down when he asks “So, uh, what was life like after I left?”

The question makes the smile fall off your face involuntarily for just a second before you push through and fight it off, smiling once again. “High school was hard, first of all.”

One of his eyebrows rise in surprise. “Oh yeah? What was it like?”

Without even stopping to think, you answer truthfully. “Like you ate shit, and tried to throw up the shit you ate, but it took you 4 years to do so.” There is a wince of disgust before he answers. “Ew. That sounds miserable.”

“Was in fact miserable.” You admit. The shits-and-giggles attitude breaks faster than you intend to. “My parents got divorced in junior year, and my father had to move out, so that was a big contribution.”

Doyoung does not look surprised, but upset. He looks down at his hands before looking back up at you. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Again, a shrug, as your lips waver. “It’s whatever.”

Silence. Uncomfortable silence maybe for the first time ever since you met him.

So you break it. “You know what? This is a reunion, and I really don’t wanna talk about how a break up that’s not my own affected me. There are lots of happier things to talk about,”

The two of you keep talking with each other for hours and hours on end. You are sure he misses the dinner at some point unlike you who were used to having early dinners. Naturally you have to take a break every once in a while to help your dog do her business, but you hold your own business inside to have all the time you can with him. It still felt as if he would leave again and never come back.

But at some point he has to leave, so you let him go. Not without a “Let’s exchange numbers?” though.

However, the answer you get is not all that satisfactory. “Sorry, I can’t. I’ve a foreign number since I study abroad and— yeah. I didn’t activate my local one this time. And you know how internet connection is here.”

“Basically nonexistent,” You agree. “But how do we meet up if we can’t—“

He smiles. “I can just come here every night after dinner.”

Your breath hitches again. Happiness beats in your heart. You could certainly do with that. “Sure. If it’s alright with you, I mean.”

“It’s why I’m here.”

In all honesty, the fact that Doyoung is back does not hit you until around the end of the first week.

The week in itself is fairly uneventful if you overlook the excitement his presence gives you. You mostly just speak to each other, to catch up on all that lost time. One thing you notice is how affectionate and all over each other both of you seemed to get, and on your part, it was still about making sure he was truly there. Hugs quickly grew to be the default state you would hang out together. If his arm was not around your shoulders, your arm would be stationed at the small of his back as you sat at the beach or the pier, and if neither was happening your legs would be sprawled across and over his lap.

Nothing about the affection you two seemed to gain felt awkward. It came so naturally.

The only weird thing about Doyoung was how he managed to be so punctual. You would show up at the pier as soon as it got dark, basically— and often he would already be there waiting. If not, he would only be late for around a few minutes. You could not tell if it was intuition the both of you shared, or a silent agreement. Whatever it was, it was a great thing, and you were thankful for it, because it gave you the time you so badly needed with your best friend.

Keeping Doyoung a secret from your mother proved to be harder than you initially thought. The fact that you were almost a fully grown adult about to start junior year of college seemed to be an irrelevant fact as soon as you started staying outside for too long in the night, and you had to swear to your mother several times that everything was okay. You excused yourself saying it was too hot when sun was out, and the beach was breezy and enjoyable in the night, so you would rather hang out with your dog then.

Which was not all a lie. She seemed to enjoy herself a lot more then, as well, and sweat a lot less. Not to mention her liking of Doyoung.

Randomly on one night you notice the bracelet still on Doyoung’s wrist. It makes you smile silly. “You still have it on.” Your finger goes and pulls on it, reminding Doyoung of the fact. He smiles fondly. “Why wouldn’t I? Don’t you?”

You pull your leg out of the water and show him. “I do, just not on my wrist.” The green and red beads shine on your ankle with the moonlight, and your leg goes chilly when the breeze hits. Doyoung’s reaction looks questionable at best so it only prompts you to further explain yourself. “Motivates me to hold my ground. It’s easier to remember who I am this way.” The words awaken something you would rather not feel ever again. Your chest hurts with the rush of the stinging feeling, but you hold yourself to endure it.

He stops as another wave hits both of your legs and furrows his brows. “What does that mean?” You turn back around to face him better— he looks hurt, somehow. As if he can feel what you are feeling inside. You take a breath. “I was very lonely, you know,” The tone of your voice reflects the hurt you kept dearly inside, and you have to physically squeeze your hands within themselves to not let the cracks reach the bottom of your feet where they would break you in half. It is the first time you ever admit it and the words sound harsher in your ear than how they used to sound inside your thoughts. “I still am, in a way. And it’s hard to not want to run away from everything when the world basically gives you all the reasons to. So I had to stand my ground.”

When his mouth opens to say whatever he had on his mind you turn your back to him. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Your dog passes by you two, running along the shore and playing in the water, blind to the atmosphere.

Doyoung respects what you say.

Although thankful for his silence, it eats away at you for days. Some part of you keeps saying that you are not letting Doyoung get as close to you as he has been letting and is letting. Because he lets you know how his biggest dream is to really debut in a Broadway show, and how singing means so much to him now. You know he studies in one of the best schools for musical theatre. You know about how he is lifelong companions with his brother now, instead of enemies like how they had been when you were children. You know he is still very afraid of anything remotely creepy. You know his biggest insecurity is his dancing and his biggest fear is being involved in anything violent and getting hurt. You just know so many things about him. And he keeps telling you even more with excitement beaming off of his eyes.

And it makes you feel bad. Because you cannot bring yourself to talk about everything like he does.

For one night, you let the attitude fall, though.

You decide he can get to know something if he wants to, because that night you had promised each other to meet at a later hour than you normally would have. You had promised your mother a proper dinner and chat, inarguably a nice way to spend your evening, and there were a bit too many glasses of drinks in your system. Luckily you were still highly functional— treading on the fine line between tipsy and fully drunk. It was more or less an open invitation to an interrogation with how talkative you were.

Doyoung notices the slight sway in your steps before a second even passes. He chuckles a bit, giggling as you throw yourself into his open arms. His giggling prompts a sluggish laugh from you because it is just so cute. And he helps you to your station of just a bit over two weeks. He helps you sit down without slipping, and helps your dog to calm down a little by petting her head.

He is still a very good friend.

You do not bother to open your mouth, because the sky is dark, the pier is dimly lit, the breeze is soft and chilly, the smell of sea salt is intoxicating, your old love bug of a dog is wagging her tail looking at you, and Doyoung is sitting right beside you. Your head is on his shoulder.

It feels so perfect. Why would you want to talk?

But he has other plans.

“Do you want to talk about last week? The night when we were walking along the shore, I mean?” His voice is gentle as ever. Even though the question is highly expected, you huff. Yet your head acts on autopilot as it nods. “Sure.”

He clears his throat. “Why do you feel lonely?” The question is blurted out and not cautiously asked, as if had he tried to ask it with caution he would not have been able to.

Still, it feels like he has to ask the hardest questions. But, you jump into an answer without any preparation. “First, you left. Every single summer I waited for you to come back. Along those summers I kind of,” The act of jumping into an answer does not seem to be all that easier than working through the painful thoughts, so you trail off a bit before you pick your words back up again. “I guess I kind of felt betrayed and, um, lost trust? I never tried to be friends with anyone and the amount of people that take the first step towards someone who clearly won’t try is fairly low, you know?” You look up at him, and he is already looking down at you. Gently but without a smile.

“So I didn’t have friends, really. Not like you. Then, like I told you— dad left. Was the icing on the cake. I was too used to his presence, like yours. Both of you were with me for more than half my life and suddenly you weren’t.” You scoot closer to him as an instinct and he welcomes you, like he always does. “I guess that hurt the most.”

“Was too big of an emptiness to handle?” It sounds so lighthearted, yet is so spot on. So you can only nod as you hold onto his arm. “Yeah, but I handled it.” Plus, it had payed off— he was here and soon, your father would be too.

Your father calls you a few days later on a sunny but breezy afternoon when you are in the backyard playing with your dog. His voice sounds tired and old— a fact you could only realize when you were not face to face with him. Tired maybe because of his work schedule. Old because you were not the only one growing up.

But his voice is not only tired and old, it also sounds genuinely apologetic. “Hey, honey, I don’t think I’ll be able to visit you there this summer. I’m so sorry. Maybe we can spend time next summer, you could even get an internship here before senior year starts?”

Yet it still sounds just like a mix of made up excuses. “You can’t or you won’t visit me?” The question is bitter with every sound that leaves you, and your father certainly seems to get the point as a sigh echoes in your ear soon after. “I don’t think your mother would enjoy me being there, so how about we just see each other in winter break, hm? It’s sooner than summer break, and a few months will fly by with school. I’m sure.”

“Making truce for a week shouldn’t be so hard after that many years of marriage.” Your argument is intended to reflect the disappointment in your voice and it does, but there is also a very obvious hint of hope in there that goes unnoticed. “That’s not how relationships work, honey. I’m sorry. Please don’t get mad at your mom, okay? Tell her I said hi, and call me back when you feel better.”

And he ends the call.

It takes everything in you to not throw the phone hard to the ground. Instead you call your dog to come sit next to you on the grass, and cuddle her in hopes of getting better. By ways of magic, perhaps, she can tell your heart is broken and that you need the company. So she calms down in lightning speed and just nuzzles into you, and you stay there like that, her sweating and looking around and rarely whining and hugging you closer, until your mother calls you in for dinner.

Dinner is uneventful save for your mother asking you if you would be going out again, which you would be. She talks to you about these new recipes that she has found in this new recipe book she bought and you pretend to be interested in the matter. In all honesty you could not care less but it would not be justifiable to say that since you knew you would be devouring the sweets if they came to existence in that instant.

You finish your food in silence before grabbing your denim jacket and making your way out of the door with only a stern and noticeable “Dad says hi.”

Doyoung is luckily already at the pier that evening even though it is slightly earlier than your usual meeting time. He is sat down at the end, looking down and watching the small waves hitting the legs of the pier. He must hear your feet on the boards because he immediately turns around and lifts himself up to his feet, but his smile falters when he is able to make your face out in the dim light. “Why are you alone? Something wrong?”

It is only his question that reminds you that you had rushed to the pier with one less friend because you forgot to bring her. That had never happened before, and the fact that you had the ability to forget weighs heavy on your shoulders— to the extent that you only look down at your feet in shame and break down when the tears invade your eyes without any signal.

Nothing happens for a few seconds as you weep. He takes the first step towards you after the initial shock and slowly brings you into a hug as you mumble shaky apologies with trembling hands. You are enclosed in such a hug that you cannot even hug him back, and he keeps reassuring you that it’s fine, that you don’t need to apologize for crying, and that you’re so strong. He keeps combing through your hair with his fingers, and at some point he helps you sit down before pulling you back into a hug.

Calming down is hard because of too many things hitting you at once, and perhaps because your newly-built happiness had taken another blow to it. “Dad’s not coming.” You manage out after a while, and he listens as you ramble. “There’s only a couple of weeks until I have to go back and—“

You sob. “I just want childhood back. Everything was better back then. He was here, you were here, we were happy. I’d give everything up to be kids again if I knew we could.”

His eyes are brimmed with tears too, but he would never tell you that. Instead he pulls you in closer if it even is possible, and takes a deep breath before speaking up. “What can I do for you?”

“Can you sing?” The low mumble vibrating into his chest reaches his heart, and he cannot bring himself to say no. It takes mere seconds before he takes in another breath and jumps into a song.

You are just so young at this very moment, my dearest Life ahead has hopes and joys Promises of happy days For you, for an eternity Neither loneliness nor any lies may ever bring tears to your eyes You've wept enough when you were born, Let that be the final, the last

Doyoung’s singing is beautiful. His airy voice that carries so much emotion with it only makes you cry harder initially, which makes him panic slightly as he keeps trying to check up on you, but you just shake your head and bury your face deeper into his chest. The song touches every living cell in your body and gives you a strength you would never expect a song to give you, and it makes you feel hopeful.

Just a bit, but it is a start of something that blooms in your chest.

And you do feel better afterwards, though it takes you some time to quiet down properly. Doyoung asks if you are actually feeling better when the sniffles subside, and you nod.

Then an idea strikes you, and you smile.

You shove Doyoung with your hand. “Ow! What was that for?”

Slowly rising up to your feet, you look at him. “Catch me if you can!”

And you bolt away from him.

It takes more time than strictly necessary for him to realize what you mean. His words only reach your ears when you have already made your way to the beach. “I thought we outgrew this!” And he starts running to catch you.

Playing tag on sand is more difficult than you remember. Maybe because you really outgrew this game, or maybe because it is dark, possibly both, but you could not care. You were too busy with running away from him, who by the way, was much better at tag than you would expect. He still had the speed he once did while you were kids and playing the game in your shared backyard, and the fact that you two were playing on sand does not seem to be phasing him too much.

You have to resort to running along the shore with your feet in the water to slow him down, but he still comes dangerously close to catching you. So it is really your only resort to run back onto the pier.

Except the pier is not wide enough to fit two adults circling the width of it with that much speed. It would only grant a chance for Doyoung to catch you. But, the adult you was crazy enough to do something the child you would never have the bravery to.

You do not know how you manage to take off your denim jacket that fast, but you do, and you let out a scream of adrenaline just as he shouts at you to stop— and you jump into the water when you reach the end.

The water is definitely colder than how it had been in the morning when you were swimming, but you still laugh as you make your way to the surface. Doyoung looks at you with wide eyes and a smile. “Come on!” You manage out. “A little water shouldn’t scare you from catching me.”

He laughs at the invitation, takes a few big steps back, and runs forward to jump into the water himself.

Your mother scolds you in the morning about the fact when she asks you why you have got a minor cold all of the sudden, but it certainly is worth it.

“You want to sleep over at ours tonight?”

You ask him the question as summer’s last days quickly approach on a night (basically almost a morning) where you have stayed up for too long. There was not much reason to let him go back to his friend’s house. Especially when you did not trust him with traveling in the dead of the night.

It freaks him out a bit, you can tell, because he physically gets a bit smaller and fidgets. “You know I can’t, what if your mom—“

“She’s sleeping, I swear. She never stays up this late. You can just sleep for a few hours and leave when the sun comes out.”

He cannot protest the idea much after that, because he knows you would not let him go.

Together, you leave the pier and start walking back to your house which takes quite some time, but it is nice. Walking back towards that direction with him again flutters your heart. It makes you want to squeal in excitement. But at the same time it is not exactly like how it was when the two of you were kids. There was something different.

You could not put a finger on it.

Your dog trails behind you, trotting contently as you walk arm in arm. Walking that way had started off as a joke around two weeks ago when the both of you walked through the streets neighboring the beach. You two played a game of two elites roaming through the streets of the commonwealth as you told him what the neighbors had been up to in the years that he had not come. And then, it just stayed as a habit.

Because it was comfortable. And because you liked being close to him.

When you reached the backyard, you opened the gate and let him and your dog in. The bugs were still playing a symphony of various different screeching, and your summer house was pitch dark as you had expected it to be.

You make your way towards the back door and slide it to the side, and one friend of yours makes her way inside and onto her bed immediately. The other friend is not so quick. You turn around to tell him to hurry up before mosquitoes make their way inside, but you find him stuck in place with no intention of moving as he looks at what used to be their house.

You slide the door back and walk back to him.

“It looks so.. run down,” He sounds so genuinely sad for the first time ever since he came back. It hurts you to see it. “And old. I wish I could help it somehow.” The second half of his words only come out as a whisper as he inspects the place that holds his better part of childhood memories.

“Nobody’s bought it. Your parents could buy it back if they wanted to, but it does require a lot of work inside.” You suggest calmly, and with hope that is supposed to be ironic yet quite the opposite of it. Doyoung looks so confused at what you say. It takes him a good moment before it clicks. “Yeah, yeah, true. I don’t think they’d do it, though.” He sighs, thoroughly considering whether to stay there and look at the house, or to go back in. He chooses the better option even though it is hard. “Let’s go inside.”

It takes too much effort to coerce him into sleeping with you on your bed rather than having him sleep on the very uncomfortable couch. You tell him more than enough times that his back would be broken if he ever attempted even taking a nap on the couch— speaking from experience— and he just ends up giggling shyly when you tell him it does not have to be weird if you two sleep together.

So you two go to your room. As the furnitures never really needed to change, your bed was still a twin bed, which only prompted Doyoung to get that much shier.

You two get in the bed and under the covers, you on the side against the wall to give him the chance to leave comfortably when he has to. To make him feel better about it, you take your phone and set an alarm to the exact minute of sunrise, and he laughs when you tell him he is too much of a scaredy cat.

As your twin bed’s width commanded, you had to cuddle to have a chance at sleeping comfortably. Your head on his chest feels better than ever, his breathing hitting the top of your head slightly funny. He giggles when you giggle at the feeling. You can imagine him smiling crystal clear in your head and surely, when you look up at him, he is.

It is just a shame that you do not hear his heartbeat when you turn back to sleep, because you really wonder if it is beating as fast as yours do.

Just a few days before you have to leave.

You ask Doyoung to come in the afternoon that day because you want to have a picnic, which he agrees to. Both of you meet at the pier around an hour before sun would start to set, and share a hug before he starts to make his way to the end of the pier. But you stop him this once. “I wanna take you somewhere else.” He agrees to it without much questioning.

The trails seem to be a bit more overtaken by thorns and wild flowers, so it takes you a bit longer than it should have to get to the patch of olive trees. You look at him expectantly when you arrive and, surely enough, he has one of the most beautiful smiles on his face. The happiest, too, if you recall right.

You lead him to your tree and set the bag of snacks down, preparing the place��� laying down the old table cloth to sit on, taking out the packed sandwiches and olives and the blueberry muffins. He is too entranced looking at the tree to notice, but he throws an apologetic glance when he realizes.

“Where are the strings? I can’t see them,” He claims. You point to one of the higher end of the branches, a place where they definitely were not initially placed. “I had to change their location as it grew,” You explain. “They were too tight to stay where we’d tied them when we were midgets.”

Doyoung laughs and its remainder stays on his face as he finally spots the strings on the tree. He looks at it for a minute or two in adoration, but his eyes hold something a bit sadder inside.

Maybe he misses childhood, too; you never stopped to think about it before.

Soon enough he sits down. You unwrap your sandwich and suggest he does the same, but he tells you he is not that hungry though he would make sure to eat it.

A warm chatter starts between you two. He asks you what you would be doing for junior year, which was pretty set already— you would be looking for internships left and right, and trying to survive the mountains worth of assignments. Midterms and finals would surely be getting more difficult as well, but that did not matter all that much. An internship would help you find a job, so that would be your focus.

You ask the same to him, what he would do that year before he graduates. It must be exciting to graduate, and Doyoung tells you he would have to start looking for places to live and extend his immigration status in one way or another while he auditions maybe hundreds of times before he manages to land himself in a good musical and hopefully a good position.

He can do it, you know. There is no way he cannot with that voice. You tell him that, and he gets a bit flattered before telling you his concerns do not have too much to do with singing but rather with dancing.

You tell him he still can.

That ends up being the finish line for that conversation and you finish your sandwich in silence, only looking at your phone sometimes to see if you have any texts or calls from your mother, since she is the one that has to take care of your dog.

He watches the leaves wave in the constant breeze this summer offered this place, and picks up an olive from the cup you had brought. He holds it up and lines it with the branches that are decorated with unripe olives, and squints his eyes before asking. “Did these come from here?”

You nod your head enthusiastically. “Mhm,” Your hand lands itself on the trunk behind your back. “From this tree itself. My dad collected them when he came here in October last year.”

Doyoung smiles and pops the olive into his mouth. He looks genuinely delighted to be eating it, which makes you happy.

The two of you continue chatting and bickering and relaxing until sun starts setting, which signals that you have to get going. The summer house still had to get cleaned and tidied up to get ready for being locked up for the off-season, and the amount of work you and your mother had to do was a bigger deal than it needed to be. Not to mention the fact that you had to carry so many stuff to and from this place every year, so there was even some packing to do, which you hated. University experience really brought too much of it.

And then there is the fact that somehow, you would have to say goodbye. Having to say goodbye to Doyoung gave you a nostalgic feeling, but mostly it made you feel sad and scared. The day you would have to tell him goodbye for who knows how long was approaching without any mercy, which did not make it any easier to plan what to do next or how to say it before going to sleep at night.

So maybe it is only fair to say what is going through your mind. Which is that you do not want him to leave again. “Doyoung,” You start off. He looks into your eyes with full attention. “Don’t leave again. Not for long.”

The request prompts the start of silence. But it is only for a short while before he gulps, and answers with determination. “I won’t.” He shakes his head. “Not again.”

The untold promise makes you so happy you can cry, and what he happens next is really not something that had a thought behind it.

You place your hands on his jaw and bring him closer, so much closer to you until your lips meet, and his hand springs to hold yours on his face with shock. What you seem to be doing shocks you as well, but you cannot exactly stop yourself. You did not want to. And you certainly are sure you would not stop unless he wants to.

Yet, he also does not seem to want to stop. Because after the initial shock that lasts for what must be only a second, he holds your hand tight and places his other hand on the small of your back. His lips are so soft and airy, and the way he kisses you is so endearing. It feels like he is repeating his promise without words, telling you he is here now, and he would be here when you come back. You stop and pull away from him just for a second, looking into his eyes that shimmer before leaning back in and pecking his lips again and again— kissing him thank you, thank you, thank you. He holds you in place and kisses you for what you know is going to be the last time, and he kisses you so forcefully it screams I love you; I don’t know how it happened but I love you and I want to keep loving you.

You push back against his lips in an attempt to say I love you yourself, but you have to pull away and hug him tight to make any sense.

It takes a moment for him to start speaking, and when he does, he sounds absolutely horrified. “We need to talk.”

You pull away from him again and look at his stressed figure. It makes your heart drop. “About this?”

He shakes his head at first but then nods. “I need to tell you something. We really need to talk.”

The happiness in you dares to falter, but you will not let it. Not this once. Not when you are this happy. So you lift yourself up onto your feet and shake your head, because you will not let him bulldoze something he had built himself. “You know what? No. Let me live with this just for a night.” Doyoung tries to protest, opening his mouth, but you cut him off before he can even start. “Just one night, Doyoung. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

He only nods slightly, and you mutter an “I’ll leave now, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before packing everything back up and handing him his sandwich, and rushing back to your house.

It takes you only a short while to get there because of how fast you were walking, and you do your best to get into the backyard and into the house without making much noise, because your mother was not expecting you. She might have been sleeping.

And granted, the house is silent and calm when you first walk in. But then you spot the figure of your mother hunched over the island counter in the kitchen, on the phone. You are about to go ahead and hug her from the back as a surprise when her barely audible sob stops you. It is impossible to go unnoticed just how hard she is crying, because she cannot even let it out fully. It makes you wonder why, what was wrong, but then she speaks—

“I’m serious. Our child was speaking into pure emptiness and it’s.. I don’t know what to do. I’m so scared.”

[jbuffyangel]

Happy Mid Season Premiere Week!!

Hello fandom family! Sorry I’ve been a bit MIA. Tried to keep up the posting but it was a bit quiet out there. Hiatus is so looooong.

NOT TODAY THOUGH!!!!

Today was an Olicity Marketing Blitz day and boy it was fun. About damn time.

Stephen and Emily were playing together on Twitter.

The CW Network was promoting Olicity on TWITTER.

And Marc did a big interview with EW. There were lots of goodies!

Today was the marketing equivalent of an ex sending flowers. 

They are sorry fandom. Here comes the woo. 

So, I wanted to talk a bit about the interview with Marc. There so many times I talk about interviews when they seem negative or are negative. I thought it’d be a nice change of pace to focus on a really great interview! As usual I have lots of thoughts...

I’m going to address the questions/answers I found most interesting.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: Now that Oliver knows Prometheus’ vendetta is personal, what’s his next move? 

MARC GUGGENHEIM: He learned two critical things in the midseason finale that will help him track down and identify Prometheus: He learned that Prometheus and he share a trainer, and he learned that Prometheus obviously was Justin Claybourne’s illegitimate son. That gives him two good clue trails to be following. He’ll be doing that in fits and starts as the season kicks back up.

Prometheus is OBVIOUSLY Justin Claybourne’s illegitimate son? 

I readily accept this is probably wishful thinking on my part, but isn’t that part of the problem? That it’s so freaking obvious that it’s too obvious? Marc’s use of the word “obvious” feels like a hard sell to me. I don’t buy this Justin Claybourne backstory. No sir. Ashes and a baby picture and TA DA????? No.  I’m calling shenanigans. There’s more to this. I sense a misdirect.

How does Prometheus force Oliver to reassess his decisions?

This goes to the larger arc of the year, which is Oliver questioning the consequences of his actions in general. What has been the prevailing theme of the season is Oliver is trying to grow and develop as a person, but the actions of his past keep literally haunting him, so it’s going to affect Oliver in a very big way going forward for the rest of the year.

I could meta on this alone, so prep for a long answer. I feel like this is Marc speak for “Oliver is becoming the light.” In reality, what season hasn’t Oliver’s darkness or past haunted him in some way? Pretty much every season right? The point of this season is trying to move him across the finish line of this five year journey. Part of that process is regression. We watch Oliver regress every season. In fact, his development as a hero and as a man has been a painfully slow (and frustrating) process. It’s one of the reasons I’m excited to drop this five year arc because I think it will free Arrow up a bit narratively.

However, this season has seen a lot of emotional progress from Oliver. He’s inherently more hopeful. He’s been more TRUTHFUL. The one area Arrow hit the rewind button on a bit is  the kill/no kill vow because they wanted Oliver’s evolution in that department to be a bit more pronounced. This started in Season 4, with Laurel’s death and killing Damien Darhk. In the season where Oliver was trying to live in the light, he chose to kill. Doesn’t necessarily make his choice wrong. Damien Darhk was seriously evil. Nukes = bad news. But it does provide a layer of “grey” in the development of his moral code.

This season, the Big Bad is literally a creation from Oliver killing. That’s intentional. Arrow has often used the kill/no kill philosophy as a metaphor for Oliver’s evolving morality. They stuck him in a squarely grey zone at the beginning of the season because I think they want him to end this year with a much firmer moral code. 

That’s not to say that Oliver will never kill again - because yes there are bad guys who need to be killed. But they specifically echoed the first kill in the pilot. Thea even argued with Oliver over the necessity of killing that man in 5x01. She specifically didn’t join the team because she wasn’t prepared to do “whatever it takes” like Oliver now is (because of Laurel’s death).

Oliver strongly feels that he needs to kill Prometheus - as will Felicity. So, this is going to be a nice push/pull effect on him and part of that process is seeing the effect the “Darkness” is having on his loved ones (Felicity & Diggle). It may ultimately push Oliver to a point where he’s toeing a much brighter line. Different in a way than Season 2, because a moral code is bigger than just killing or not killing. But I think Oliver will reach for the moral high ground in a way he never has before because he HAS to. Those he loves need him to because they are losing their own way.

How different is Talia to Nyssa al Ghul (Katrina Law)?

She’s definitely her own person; she’s not a Nyssa clone, by any stretch. You can definitely sense a familial resemblance. Having Ra’s al Ghul as your dad, it’s likely to forge a very specific kind of person. They’re close enough and different enough that I would love, at some point, to do a story with Nyssa and Talia. I think that would be a lot of fun. 

Just gonna say I am excited about Talia. My Batman adoration demands it.

Can you talk about how the team will react to Laurel’s return?

I would say they react pretty positively. Obviously, this is wonderful news. We have a very good explanation as to how Laurel returned. The team is, by and large, pretty happy. Bear in mind, there are a few members of the team that didn’t know Laurel, so it’s fun to see their reaction, especially when they learn that time travel played a role in it.

Isn’t it cute when Marc blatantly ignores that the promo department ruined his episode? 

Again, another misdirect. I think in a similar vein to the “obviously.” It’s not Laurel. It’s Black Siren. Sure, time travel had something to do with it, but it’s not bringing Laurel back. To all those worrying that somehow this is a huge redemption storyline for Black Siren and they are bringing Katie back... 

Listen... if they wanted Katie on the show they wouldn’t be hiring a new BC. That’s just the ugly truth. Furthermore, they are trying to launch the new BC which gets tricky if Katie is around every few episodes. My bet? They used this guest contract to bridge the gap between LL and the new BC for the comic purists in hopes they could draw them back in. Anywho, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Arrow side of her contract is closing out and they shift her to Legends for a couple guest spots.

What can you tease for Felicity moving forward? She wants revenge on Prometheus over the death of Malone (Tyler Ritter), so how dark will she go and how far will she go to get it?

This is something we went into the season with. At the beginning of every year, we figure out: What do we want to see our characters go through? What are their emotional journeys for the season? We were intrigued by the idea of Felicity flirting with the dark side. The reason I say flirting is Felicity is very much the light of the show; she provides a lot of lightness in what is otherwise a very dark drama. One thing you don’t want to do is you don’t want to tell a story where she suddenly starts becoming this dark element. You don’t want to tell a story where all the reasons why people love the character are gone. It’s this delicate balancing act.

In the wake of Malone’s death, she’s very influenced by her prior four years of watching Oliver and Diggle — and Laurel, Roy (Colton Haynes), and Thea (Willa Holland) for that matter. She’s been watching Team Arrow respond to darkness with what I would describe as moral compromise. What we’ve done is we’ve found a story where Felicity could be tempted by taking moral shortcuts in the name of the greater good, which is very much in keeping with the central dilemma at the heart of the whole show, which is becoming judge, jury, and executioner is the ultimate moral shortcut. She’s not going to become judge, jury, and executioner, she’s not going to become a killer, but we found the Felicity version, or the Felicity equivalent, of making a moral compromise in order to accomplish good.

Many have heard me complain about Arrow’s “Don’t Mess With The Rainbow” mentality when it comes to Felicity and this entire answer makes me feel a lot better. I think it strikes the perfect balance. First, it seems Arrow is recognizing that Felicity has been through a lot (DUH) and they really haven’t allowed her experience the effects of those events on a big level (also duh). It seems they are going there. FINALLY. It’s time. It needs to happen. I am thrilled.

BUT... we don’t need Felicity to be Oliver’s version of dark. Or Diggle’s. Or Laurel’s. Or Thea’s. We need Felicity’s version of dark to be like everything else with this character: Felicity’s darkness should be uniquely HER. 

What struck me, for the first time that I can think of, Marc came out and said “judge, jury and executioner” is wrong. This applies strongly to OTA. Oliver, obviously, has embraced the “judge, jury and executioner” mentality. Diggle, who normally was the moral compass for Oliver, chose to be “judge, jury and executioner” for Andy. Both of these men are morally justified in their actions, but Marc stating flat out that it’s a moral shut cut is extremely telling. They are pushing all the characters, not just Oliver, to be BETTER. To be heroes. Heroes draw the moral line in the sand and they HOLD TO IT. Because at the end of the day, that’s all that separates them from the bad guys and it’s what keeps them from becoming the bad guys. It’s not always easy. In fact, it’s often the much more difficult path, but it’s the right one to take.

It’s why Prometheus is having such a strong impact and why he’s the perfect villain for S5. OLIVER IS THE VILLAIN in his eyes. Oliver needs to come to a place where that perception cannot happen. Where even the bad guys cannot deny he is the light. 

So, it’s essential that Felicity be pushed this darker place too. Where she is judge, jury and executioner. Where she takes moral short cuts. She’s on a hero’s journey as much as Oliver and we need to see Felicity’s moral code tested as well. But it doesn’t have to equal killing. It’ll be Felicity’s version of dark and immoral, which should strike a contrast to Oliver’s. Yes, she is so often the light, but the whole point of pushing Felicity to the dark is so that OLIVER is forced to be the light FOR HER. It’s pushing them both to a place where they absolutely need to go.

Having been through situations like this himself, will Oliver be able to help Felicity navigate this? Or is she pushing everyone away?

I don’t think she’s really pushing everyone away, but she’s definitely on her own path. The best answer to the question is it’s neither one or the other fully. Oliver for sure will be trying to — not help her — but give her some guidance. In episode 12, both Diggle and Felicity, for different reasons, are flirting with some darkness in their lives. Oliver basically, in this really great moment, tells both Felicity and Diggle, “Look, I’m basically a dark dude, I do bad things, but the ship has sailed with me. The whole reason I am aligned with you guys is because you guys are fundamentally just better people, you guys are more moral than I am.” Part of the fun of that episode is seeing how that advice to both Diggle and Felicity operates on them. It’s not necessarily going to operate on them the same way.

I’ve been harping on this concept of Oliver and Felicity walking in each other’s shoes this season. Being able to understand your partner’s perspective, in a real way, is a great catalyst for change. Thus, the shift in roles is absolutely necessary. First, this show is about Oliver Queen. He is destined to become The Green Arrow. He’s suppose to be the light for everyone and that INCLUDES FELICITY. In many ways, Felicity is echoing Oliver’s darker path in S3. It was Felicity who wanted to live life to the fullest and held the line even when Oliver lost his way. She harnessed the light within Oliver and he found his way out of the dark... and back home to her. 

Now, they are shifting roles in S5. Felicity was always a voice of guidance for Oliver, but Oliver always made his own choices. I believe it will be the same for Felicity. What’s interesting about Marc’s “the ship has sailed” dialogue, is the impact that it will have on Diggle and Felicity. I predict two things: One, Diggle will toe the moral line again more immediately. Felicity will not. Diggle’s darker spiral is ending. Felicity’s is just beginning. 

It’s not going to be enough for Oliver to say, “I’m a dark person. You guys are have always been better than me,” this time. That’s the status quo with Oliver and Felicity. Felicity won’t shift her behavior post 5x12, which will probably lead to whatever deception Oliver discovers in 5x15. It could push Oliver to realize that the status quo has to change. He has to set the example this time. He has to provide the guidance through action, just like Felicity has always done for him. The ship can’t sail for Oliver because that means it will have sailed for FELICITY. I don’t think Oliver can abide by that. 

In the end, of course, Oliver will harness Felicity’s light just like she’s always done for him. She will find her way out of this darker place. My bet is all of this is the foundation for Smoak Technologies and she’ll find a renewed purpose in what she wants to do outside of Team Arrow, just like Oliver has found in being mayor. Seeing the change in Oliver (in action - his hopefulness, his truthfullness, being the light, etc), understanding his darkness on a deeper level because Felicity will recognize her own darkness in herself, maybe even Oliver’s forgiveness for whatever deception there is... this all leads back to one singular concept: Felicity will find her way back home to Oliver in the end. Only this time... he will be the man she’s always deserved. He’ll be ready for her in every way. It feels like they are on opposite paths, but those paths are actually a ying/yang effect. They aren’t separate. They are connected... and it all leads back to one another.

Diggle seems to be facing the consequences of being set up by his C.O. head-on now. What’s next for him?

Coming into the second half of the season, we felt a very strong impulse to basically bring the whole General Walker storyline from the beginning of the year to a conclusion. There’s a reason why we returned Diggle to prison and it’s all to set up what will be a climactic episode. We’ve dedicated basically a whole episode to resolving the General Walker storyline. What’s nice about that episode, that’s episode 12, is that it ties into Oliver’s Russia storyline, it ties into Felicity’s storyline, and it even echoes back to the Diggle storyline with his brother last season. So a lot of threads get tied together and some threads get tied up in that 12th episode.

I know many are frustrated about the lack of OTA and I understand. I’m ready for them to key up more OTA eps too. However, I look at Oliver, Diggle and Felicity as the three main leads. The fact that Arrow’s primary season arc is connected in an obvious way to all three characters gives me a lot of hope for 5B. 5A is always set up (and to a certain extent 4B). I think 5B will finally be the follow through that connectively binds these characters on completing each of their hero’s journey. Oliver isn’t the only one who is going through a five year arc. I think they are preparing to launch Arrow into a new phase come S6. That said, Diggle needs more attention so I’m glad he’ll be getting some. Sounds like 5x12 will be a HUGE OTA episode which is fantastic because it’s such an wonderful call back to one of our favorite OTA episodes of all time... the trip to Russia in 2x06.

What can you tease for the introduction of Tina Boland and what we’ll be seeing for her?

You’ll get a glimpse of her at the end of the midseason premiere. It’s funny, I don’t want to tease too much about her. There’s a lot of stuff that’s out on the internet in terms of casting breakdowns, which I hate talking about because a lot of the casting breakdowns we release are false because we know they leak. But I think we have a really wonderful character here. Juliana [Harkavy], who plays her, is a terrific actress. We’re going to be doing some new and different kinds of things. Because of the internet, I guess I’m very tempted to — as always — I’d prefer to let the story tell itself and play out, and then people can make up their minds.

It’s really interesting that Marc mentioned the leaked sides for Tina again. When they first came out he tried to pretend it was all fake, but of course, this was the casting side that was sent out to all the actresses who were auditioning for Tina. So, it became pretty obvious they weren’t fake. He also tried to pretend the character’s name wasn’t Tina. So, when the character’s name was revealed to be Tina I think many took that as a sign that these “sides” would be actual scenes in Arrow. 

The reason it had so many concerned is because there was a “chemistry” read with, presumably, Oliver. Many concluded Tina will be a love interest. Also, the BC comic history reared its ugly head in combination with a subtle/back burned Olicity and its led to a lot of concern. Here’s why I think it’s interesting that Marc mentioned the sides- if these scenes show up in Arrow it’ll be very easy to point to his interview and say, “Ummm... they aren’t false.” So, I’m feeling pretty confident those exact scenes won’t be in the show. I think his larger point is that some of the assumptions the internet is making about Tina’s character, based on the sides, isn’t necessarily true and we’ll see that when the show plays out.

So, I continue to stand my belief that Tina is not a love interest for Oliver.

We know Oliver is going to end up back on that island. We know Susan Williams (Carly Pope) is investigating Oliver’s ties to Russia. How are those two storylines going to intersect as we head toward the finale this season?

There’s going to be a very cool and awesome payoff to Susan’s investigation of Oliver. That payoff is going to come sooner than you think. In other words, it’s going to come sooner than the season finale.

Susan discussion, yes, but she’s at the end of the article and it’s a blurb at best. Vast improvement promotionally speaking. Marc just flat out told us that Susan’s investigation is going to blow up BEFORE the season finale. IMDB has Carly Pope slated for 5x12, 5x14 and 5x15. Perhaps the investigation blow up is happening around these run of episodes? Especially coinciding with the Bratva focused episode in 5x12? Methinks yes. 

I think some are wondering how Oliver and Felicity can “rebuild” if Susan is still around. This isn’t an either or situation in terms of storyline my friends. It can happen simultaneously and it will happen simultaneously. Think back to Ray and Sara. Oliver and Felicity were very much “building” their relationship (and where it was headed) throughout the full season WHILE they were dating other people. As Oliver and Felicity grew closer, Ray and Felicity fell apart. Sara was slightly different timing wise, but she imploded around the mid season as well, with Oliver finding his way to Felicity in the end. It is possible for Arrow to “rebuild” Olicity while Susan Williams is sharing screen time with Oliver. Susan can be playing a role in that rebuild in her, ultimately, failed relationship with Oliver and what it will teach him. Think of it as multiple lanes of traffic eventually converging into a single lane. Multiple storylines eventually push to one singular end. That’s what is happening this year. That is what happens every year.  ALL ROADS LEAD TO OLICITY.

So don’t fret about when Susan is leaving or when she and Oliver will be done. They will be done. She will leave. It will happen. Understandable if you don’t enjoy the storyline and would rather it be sooner than later, but the end result is still the same.

Psst... did you notice? Not a word about the newbies other than Tina. Nice change in pace! All in all... I am very pumped for the rest of the season!!