Ok so I’ve been avoiding talking about it because it’s still gonna be a long wait, but I’m working on a new film. I might’ve mentioned a new film before but this is a better different new film and it’s gonna be really good and better than whatever the last dumb film you saw was. Especially if it was one of mine. It has these cuties in it. Hello cuties!
“The point is strong eyebrow makeup, he uses eyebrow pencil to draw line by line, he finishes with a brush. When he draws his eyebrows, he draws just the right thickness and length, he draws them straight and not curved downwards. He dyed his eyebrow color relatively light to brighten his face tone.” - EXOLOGY Chapter 1: On Stage & Off Stage - CHEN’s Interview / 《 Style & Fashion for Exo Stage 》 / Make Up
Oliver Queen hunches over a fire, arranging the pieces of wood, stoking the flames. He sits back on his haunches and watches the flames flicker to life, the glow of the campfire illuminating his face. He has a makeshift camp of sorts set up nearby, but he prefers to sleep outside under the stars.
It’s not a cold night, but even if it was, he wouldn’t feel it. He’s spent too many nights like this, and they’ve given him an armor to the elements. He doesn’t feel it anymore.
When he returned to Starling City, he often moved to the floor halfway through the night, the bed too soft for him. Now, he’s back, alone again on this island, his reluctant home.
He returned here, like a murderer to the scene of a crime. He killed Oliver Queen here. Just like he killed Tommy. The thought floats up before he can push it down. He knows it was an accident, he knows there was nothing he could do, he was too late to save him. And yet, he can’t help feeling like it was his fault. Everything that happened, with his family, with Tommy, with the Undertaking…
He had stood there, on that rooftop, next to John Diggle and watched the city burn. Because he failed it.
He did what he always did when things got hard, he ran. He could have gone anywhere in the world, but instead, he came here. Home. As terrible as this place was, is, he feels more at home here than he does anywhere else.
On this island everything is stripped away. All the comforts, the uselessness of the modern world, the noise, the people - here everything becomes simple. Survive.
Nothing else matters.
Oliver stretches out on the ground, resting his head on a forearm and contemplates the night sky. Here in the middle of nowhere, the sky brims with stars.
He quiets, breathing in the cold air, letting the sounds of the island soothe him. All the creatures asleep, the only sounds are the wind, and the creaking of the trees, the soft raspiness of the leaves sliding against each other.
He lets his mind wander, slices of the last year play across his memory. Some good, some bad. He’s spent many nights replaying the last year. Trying to make sense of the events surrounding his return to Starling.
He thinks of his family, Moira plotting, Thea lost. And Tommy. Of Tommy lying bleeding in the rubble, dying. He tries not to think about it, but he can’t forget how Tommy looked at him and called him a murderer.
He shakes his head, as if he can physically shake off the memories.
Tommy knew him better than almost anyone, and he’s gone.
Oliver’s mind wanders again, and he thinks of John Diggle. His friendship was one of the only good things that came out of the last year. Well, not the only good thing.
This train of thought always seems to terminate at the same place. Felicity.
He whispers the name out loud, letting the syllables roll around his tongue. Fe-li-ci-ty. He can see her in his minds eye. Her glasses, her ponytail. Her fluttery hand gestures. The way she looks right through him, right into him so that he feels exposed. He had to admit, that he spent a great deal of time thinking about her. She was a puzzle to him. She was unlike any woman he had ever met. So smart, it unnerved him that he couldn’t charm her into submission.
She asked him once if she could trust him, and he said yes. And the minute the words came out of his mouth, he knew he HAD to mean them. That he desperately needed her to trust him, but more than that he knew unequivocally that he trusted her. That moment is when he realized he was going to tell her his secret.
He thought about her now, her strength, her bravery, her loyalty, she was really unlike anyone he had ever met before.
He wasn’t in love with her. She was his friend. His first friend that he hadn’t tried to have sex with, not that–he stops himself. No, don’t go there. She is very pretty. No, that’s not the right word he thinks. She is stunningly beautiful. He smiles bemusedly. She is so weird. She is smart, and funny and quirky and somehow, what she thinks of him matters a great deal to him. When did that happen? He thinks about that night of the Undertaking when she refused to leave. What made her so brave? She was scared. He could tell, but she stayed.
She was a mystery to him. Why is he spending so much mental energy thinking about this tiny blonde girl? With that bright pink lipstick…lips. Stop it. He’s not falling for her.
The first time he saw her, she was this funny perceptive person that made him smile, it wasn’t love at first sight. But you liked her. The thought whispers to him. Didn’t you? You liked her a lot.
It wasn’t love at first sight. He thinks stubbornly. It’s not like he wanted to pounce on her and take her right there.
It wasn’t love at first sight.
And then unbidden it rises up inside him, snaking its way to the surface…Wasn’t it?
He sighs in frustration. Rolling to his side and facing the flames, her face floating in front of him. Weirdly, thinking about her made him feel better. It made him forget for a little while. He closes his eyes, falling asleep, thinking about pink lipstick, glasses, and a blonde ponytail.
So if anyone thinks that Larry isn’t real now, like they had something before but not now, then remember all the times they had together. Those two can’t just forget about how much they cared about each other. They were BEST (boy) FRIENDS. Even when a friendship ends, you’ll still look back on the times together.
So what I’m saying is, Louis and Harry can’t forget about everything they did together. They’re always going to remember EVERYTHING that happened. So they will remember the love they had for each other. (If this even makes sense lmao)