[personal profile] maayacolabackup


Yixing’s not sure how it ends up like this. Only he is, because it only makes sense, through the hazy fog of desire, to run his fingers along those mesmerizing contours; run his tongue along them too, for good measure.

Jongin is electric. He whimpers and writhes and gasps beneath Yixing’s desperate hands and mouth, and fists his hands in Yixing’s shirt he traps Yixing against the studio table, careful not to push him too hard lest some of Yixing’s pictures fall to the floor.

EXO had gotten in a few hours ago on a late flight. Jongin’d gone to his hotel and he’d called Yixing, and Yixing had mumbled something about developed photos, and then forty minutes later Jongin was at Yixing’s door.

“I had Chanyeol get me a cab,” Jongin said, quickly, like Yixing was going to question why he’d come. “I told him you wanted me to look at a few pictures.”

“I do,” Yixing had said in response, and Jongin’s cheeks were flushed pink and his hands were sliding in and out of his pocket like he wasn’t sure if he wanted them there or not. “Stop fidgeting.”

“I don’t fidget--” Jongin had started to say, and Yixing had shoved him against the doorframe of the studio entryway and kissed him.

Jongin had squeaked, and then his hands had come up and settled on Yixing’s hips, and he’d kissed him right back.

And now… Now, Yixing drags his mouth along the line of Jongin’s jaw, and Jongin hisses into his ear, slides his hands down Yixing’s sides, warm through Yixing’s shirt.

Yixing doesn’t like men, necessarily, but he likes Jongin. He doesn’t know how anyone couldn’t, when Jongin’s so full of life and color and movement and all those things that make people beautiful, all concentrated into their purest forms.

Jongin finds Yixing’s mouth again, and Yixing licks along his teeth and cheeks and the roof of Jongin’s mouth and tastes shadows and contrasts and love as true as ink and celluloid.

“I don’t have to keep waiting?” Jongin asks, and Yixing shakes his head, before he catches Jongin’s lower lip between his teeth.

“No,” Yixing says. “You don’t.”


Yixing teasingly pushes him back, small hands exerting almost no pressure on Jongin’s chest, but Jongin falls like he’s been shoved. Yixing’s bed is soft; the sheets high-thread-count cotton and luxurious, and he only gives Jongin a moment to second-guess any of this before he kisses him.

Everything’s a blur as color drips down the back of Jongin’s back and Yixing tastes those shadows, licking and biting at the column of Jongin’s neck as Jongin gasps and tries to breathe beneath him. His hair, piceous liquid silk, brushes Yixing’s forehead as Yixing brings their mouths together again.

Yixing kisses him until Jongin is splayed out beneath him, breathing hard, lips swollen and blush and parted as he gasps for air. He reaches for his camera, and takes a photo as Jongin’s hands skate up his bare chest.

“You’re so weird,” Jongin says, and he laughs, and thrusts up, and Yixing’d forgotten that they’d lost their jeans a couple rooms back, and now all that separates their erections are the thin material of their briefs, but now he’s reminded, the friction making his hands shake on his camera.

Jongin moans, baring his throat, and Yixing takes another shot.

And then the camera finds itself abandoned on the side of the bed as Jongin flips them, kissing down Yixing’s chest and down, lower, mouthing Yixing through the material of his briefs, and Yixing’s hips cant off the bed, toward the warmth of Jongin’s mouth, and Jongin grins, cheekily.

When they’re both bare, sliding together, sweat and the need to touch overwhelming, Yixing thinks he might be coming apart.

“You’re so beautiful,” Yixing says, as Jongin slides a single digit inside him. It stings, and Yixing already feels like this is too much; like everything is too much and he might break. But then Jongin pulls out slowly and pushes back in, and Yixing hisses at the burn, but he doesn’t break. He stretches. “So beautiful.”

“How can you even see me in the dark?” Jongin’s voice is breathy, like maybe he feels as taut and on edge as Yixing does as he works that single finger in and out. “Relax,” Jongin whispers. “Let me make you feel good. Let me make this feel good.”

“Photographers see things other people don’t,” Yixing says, voice and thighs shaking at the ache, focusing on the friction inside of him, unclenching his muscles as the slide of Jongin’s finger becomes more familiar and a little more easy. “That’s why we become photographers in the first place.” Jongin curls his finger, and the press of the pad of his finger against the walls of his inside startles a gasp from him.

Even in the caliginous room, Yixing can see the shadows clinging to Jongin’s shoulders and neck. Jongin is Old Hollywood again, and Yixing is Slim Adams, and this is the Jongin he saw, the first day they met, but open and distilled and the story Yixing feels like he has always been looking, but better, because he’s real and here and moving.

“Don’t lose track of this, or wander off,” Jongin whispers, as he thrusts hard into Yixing for the first time. Yixing’s thighs tremble, and he feels like he’s splitting in half. It’s more pain than pleasure, but he has faith that that will change. His nails dig into the skin of Jongin’s back. “Don’t think about anything but me.” They aren’t perfectly coherent words, and Yixing’s unsure if he’s speaking in Mandarin or Korean, but he feels them, deep in his bones, like an anchor. Jongin’s skin shines in the thin streams of moonlight, and Yixing’s still as mesmerized as he was that first night on the terrace.

Yixing doesn’t think that Jongin understands that he can’t look anywhere else, because Jongin is the most perfect photograph Yixing’s never taken.

Pleasure arcs up the small of his back, tangled with the pain of the stretch and the exhilaration of the pressure against his insides, and Yixing finally feels like his skin might be as warm as Jongin’s.

“I won’t,” Yixing whispers, and his voice comes out cracked and hoarse, and Jongin shivers at it. “I can’t.”

“Good,” Jongin says, and he pulls out, slow and steady, and pushes back in harder; hard enough to shake Yixing’s thin body as the bed shakes with him, and Yixing makes a garbled noise that would be embarrassing if he didn’t want to pull Jongin closer and feel whatever that feeling is again.

It’s like panning; Jongin is the sole distinguishable object in a sea of blur, and Yixing follows him with eyes and shoulders and hips as he presses in again and again.
“I can’t,” Yixing says again, and nothing has ever been more true.


Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever... it remembers little things, long after you have forgotten everything. –Aaron Siskind


Jongin is impossible to capture, after all. Yixing runs hand down the smooth muscle of Jongin's arms and memorizes the strength he can feel beneath his fingertips. He memorizes the years of sadness he can taste in Jongin's sweat and wonders if he were to cut Jongin open whether all he'd find inside was more of that sadness- that echoing emptiness that isn't black or white or any shade in between. He memorizes the shuddering breaths Jongin takes that sound a lot like the quick release shutter on his favorite long-lens camera, and the way Jongin looks, in those moments, blurry to Yixing's carefully watching eyes as he tries to freeze-frame the perfect moment.

Yixing used to think there was no beauty he couldn't catch with a fast enough shudder speed and an eye for the lighting, but Jongin is everything Yixing has never tried to catch. Yixing lives his life in grayscale and exact pinpoint moments, but Jongin is color in motion, defying the click of the camera and defying Yixing's ability to understand him.

Yixing realizes, as he presses a kiss to the corner of Jongin’s sleeping mouth, that he might be willing to spend the rest of his life trying.

Jongin shift and his palm falls open and flat across Yixing’s heart, and it’s enough.


Good things, Yixing knows, aren’t meant to last.

It’s balance—just like in a photograph, there has to be an even distribution of visual elements, and of light and dark. Yixing thinks life is kind of like that, and maybe what he has with Jongin is too much happiness and so there has to be misery now, to even out the score.

That’s why when he sees the cover of the tabloid, he knows something bad is about to happen.

“I’m coming over,” Jongin says, and his voice is grim. “For the last time.”

Yixing feels like the next two hours happen through a polarizer filter, a grainy black and white video that’s not his real life at all.

But it is his real life, and maybe it’s that fact that makes it so hard to see.

“I can’t see you anymore,” Jongin says, and Yixing’s been expecting since he first saw the tabloid but it still hurts to hear.

“Because someone took a picture of us?” Yixing asks, looking up at Jongin with a face that’s carefully blank. “There are a million ways to explain-“

“Because there’s too much at stake,” Jongin says, and this is how it feels, Yixing thinks, to stand at the gate and watch someone leave. “And it’s not worth it.”

That hurts the worst of all, until Yixing squints and really looks at Jongin.

Jongin doesn’t believe that. Yixing has been memorizing every nuance of Jongin’s face for months and months, and Jongin’s always been shit at lying.

Jongin’s always tried to protect him. To keep his face out of the news, and Yixing’s always been grateful, before. But now Jongin is looking at him and saying he can’t see Yixing anymore, because there are too many people watching. Because the paparazzi are getting too close and Jongin’s got his career and Yixing’s got his and that’s the way it has to be.

“No it doesn’t,” Yixing says, and Jongin closes his eyes.

“I want it to be, then.” Jongin steps back as Yixing steps forward, and Yixing pretends not to notice that it hurts. “This is goodbye.”

He chooses the word on purpose. Yixing knows he does.

Yixing hates goodbyes. And yet here he is staring at another one.

The world’s in grayscale.


“You haven’t complained about the food even once,” Jongdae says. “What’s wrong?”

Yixing hasn’t taken any pictures in three weeks and he keeps trying but the only story he can find is his own heartbreak. He finds it in sidewalk cracks and in helpless earthworms drowning in the early spring rains. He finds it in his studio, where he’s still got hundreds of pictures of Jongin in piles on his desk that he can’t bear to look through.

He finds it in Jongin’s parted lips and they way Jongin had looked at him before he walked out the door, and every time he lifts his camera up to snap a photo, he sees Jongin through the viewfinder; Jongin in New York, laughing at the surprise snow. Jongin in Tokyo, green soybean powder decorating his face. Jongin on Yixing’s bed, stretched out like a cat in the sun as he plays games on his mobile phone, one hand on his stomach and the other on Yixing’s calf as Yixing takes pictures of Jongin’s fingers and Jongin’s toes because the abstract can sometimes tell the story of a moment.

“I’m fine,” Yixing says, and he takes a bite of Jongdae’s latest concoction and grimaces. “This is truly horrible, though, you’re right.”

“You ate half already, Yixing.” Jongdae sounds half seriously concerned and half amazed. “Is your grandmother okay?”

“She’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

“If everything were fine, you wouldn’t look so glum.” Jongdae pushes the traditional pot of reheated dumplings toward him. “Here, have a dumpling.”

“Wow, I must look really pathetic.”

“Just a lot,” Jongdae says. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

“Goodbyes,” Yixing says.

“Well that’s why you look so sad,” Jongdae says. “Wouldn’t you rather think about ‘hello’s?”

There are no hellos left with Jongin. Yixing’s phone hasn’t rung. Yixing’s spare key remains undisturbed beneath the mat in front of his door.

“Sometimes there aren’t any hellos left,” Yixing says, and Jongdae sets down his chopsticks.

“So you know Kris is the one with all the deep philosophical advice, right?” Jongdae sighs. “That said, I think there are always hellos left. And after… after she died you took a really long time to say hello to a lot of things.”

“I know,” Yixing says. “I know.”

“So don’t let go of that! That thing that made you say ‘hello’ again. Don’t… let go of that.”

Yixing looks at Jongdae, and Jongdae smiles and shoves a dumpling in his mouth. “Thanks,” Yixing says, and Jongdae chokes.

“I should’ve left the pep talks to duizhang,” he says around a mouthful, and Yixing exhales.

“I think you did all right,” Yixing says, and takes another terrible bite of his lunch.


Yixing sorts the photos on his studio table into piles for filing. He does his best not to let his eyes linger on some of them as he organizes, and he’s mostly successful, willing himself to treat them as if they’re the dregs of any other finished project.

It’s hard, but he does it.

But then he comes across the picture… the one Jongin took, in his car, in front of Yixing’s hotel when Yixing had still been teetering on the brink of admitting to himself that it was all okay; that the things he was feeling for Jongin weren’t going to disappear just because Yixing was afraid.

‘Patiently waiting for the right moment.’ He’s so in love. In the photo, and in real life, and everywhere in between.

He swallows, and it hurts. His throat feels stopped up, like his heart is stuck there and refusing to let anything else through.

He closes his eyes for a moment, and sets the photo to the side.

Beneath it, though, is another photo.

Yixing took that one, in the dressing room. ‘Wanting.’

Jongin is looking straight at the camera, and Yixing will never forget that moment. It’s still, Yixing thinks, one of the best photos of Jongin he’s ever taken. And Jongin is looking at the camera; at Yixing behind it, like he’s everything, and Yixing wants…

Yixing wants to see Jongin look at him like that again. Yixing wants to run his fingers along Jongin’s neck where his hair has grown a little too long and for Jongin to run his fingers up Yixing’s forearm slow and steady, and Yixing wants to take photographs of Jongin’s lips and then kiss every place his lens has captured.

“Love is selfish,” Yixing had told Jongin once, and he’d meant it.

And Yixing knows Jongin is trying to protect Yixing, and protect himself too. He knows that, but it doesn’t make it easier to live with.

Yixing lift his camera, his grandfather’s camera, and looks through the viewfinder, and points it toward the empty doorway of his studio. He remembers when Jongin had stood there, hands in his pockets. He remembers pressing Jongin against it and kissing him.

He takes a photo of the empty doorway.

The photo comes out eerie, almost like there’s a ghost in the doorway that only Yixing can see.

He titles it ‘Miss You, Miss You’, even if he only calls it that in his head, and he locks it in the top drawer of his desk.

Yixing still hasn’t taken… He still hasn’t taken the photo of Jongin he’s always wanted to take. The one he’s promised to take. He’s taken photos that look like Jongin, but Jongin is so much more than those. Jongin is the challenge Yixing wants to keep attempting, over and over again,, for as long as he can.

Yixing doesn’t think he can give Jongin up.

TIP 09

Sometimes photographers think too much.

Yixing often gets so caught up in figuring out all the threads of what he’s trying to represent—what he wants the viewer to take away, and what he wants to be sure to catch, that he forgets to really look.

Because in the end, photography is really about seeing. It’s about taking a deep breath and observing. It’s about looking at the world around him and noticing the little things, or the big things, that other people don’t notice.

And when he gets caught up in all the thoughts; thoughts about that strange shape in the corner or that little fraction of Jongin’s face that’s slightly too much in shadow, or all the consequences of being completely and totally infatuated with the way Jongin looks when his eyes open in the morning, lips dry and cracked and breath stale and eyes so deep he might drown in them, he forgets the important things.

Like that he’s so crazy in love with Jongin that every exhale hurts just a little, because his heart has swelled so big it pushes into his lungs and the pressure aches.

And maybe now is the time not to think. Maybe now is the time to just see.


Photography, alone of the arts, seems perfected to serve the desire humans have for a moment - this very moment - to stay. – Sam Abell


It’s the same road. She’s waiting at the end of it, again, and Yixing walks toward her, again.

This time, she gets closer. When he reaches her, he lifts his camera up to take a picture, and she smiles.

But then she puts her hands on his shoulders, and spins him around, and behind him is Jongin.

Jongin is standing there on Yixing’s gray road with it’s gray pebbles and light charcoal colored grass, and he’s wearing blue-jeans and a white sweater with navy and red stripes. Everything else is in black and white, but Jongin is shifting his weight from foot to foot in full color.

He holds out a hand, and Yixing swallows. He can feel her fingernails digging into his shoulders, and then she pushes, and Yixing stumbles forward.

Yixing lifts his camera, and Jongin smiles, straight at him, with no pretence or worry or hesitance, and Yixing finally catches him. He finally takes a photo that feels like Jongin.

When he wakes, sheets sticking to his legs and stomach, Yixing finds it hard to breathe.

”The limitations of your photography are yourself,” Ernest Haas had once said.

Yixing scrambles for his phone. It’s eight-thirty in the morning. It’s late enough to call a travel agent.


His badge still works. He flashes it to the guard and smiles lopsidedly, and the guard seems to vaguely remember him, waving him up. He leaves his bag behind the desk.

He follows incessant bass beats to the right rehearsal room.

The first person to notice him standing in the doorway is Zitao, who smiles a tiny little grin before offering a soft wave. Yixing waves back, and the action catches Sehun’s eyes. Sehun’s mouth opens into a tiny ‘o’ of surprise, and he quickly glances over to Zitao. They share a loaded glance; one that would offer a hundred interpretations in a gallery show, critics standing side by side with flutes of champagne and plenty of opinions.

Jongin is facing away from the door, stretching his arms above his head, bouncing on the balls of his feet to the beat of the music to keep his muscles from tightening up.

Yixing can see the shift of his shoulder blades through his sweaty shirt, and he remembers what they feel like beneath his desperate hands and Jongin presses kisses to his jaw.

He clears his throat, and Jongin spins around. His eyes widen, and his mouth parts, and he’s always picture-perfect but Yixing thinks this is one moment, one image of Jongin, that he’ll never be able to forget.

He has a speech planned in his head, that he’d rehearsed to himself on the plane ride and in the taxi ride here, and he’d almost gone to the hotel first but he’d been afraid he’d chicken out if he did.

But now, standing in front of Jongin, the man who’d brought the life back into his pictures and maybe back into his heart, the words disappear.

Jongin moves closer. Yixing’s stomach drops.

“What are you doing here, Zhang Yixing?” He’s guarded, and his arms are wrapped around his ribs like he’s hugging himself. There’s also disbelief in the set of his mouth, like he can’t believe Yixing is here. “I thought I made it pretty clear that things were over between us.”

He can’t even pretend to be detached, Yixing thinks distantly. Not to Yixing, who has seen so much of him.

“I said I’d never…” Jongin is flushed, hair sticking to his face with sweat, and Yixing can see Zitao and Sehun watching them from the doorway. Sehun has a smirk crawling up his face and Zitao looks enthralled. “Come.”

He grabs Jongin’s forearm and tugs, and Jongin spills out into the hallway, sneakers squeaking as Yixing drags him down until they reach the vending machines. “How’d you even get in here-“

“I still have a clearance badge,” Yixing says. “As your official photographer.”

“Are you here for something relating to the photo book?” Jongin asks. “Because I have a manager for that, as obnoxious as he is.”

“No,” Yixing says, and he wants to make his face impassive but that’s not fair. Right now, more than anything, he wants to hold up his camera and hide behind it. “I am here on personal business.”

“Personal business?” Jongin laughs, dryly, and Yixing winces. “We can’t… I’m too famous, and there’s too much... I’m a client, and you’re a photographer, and between us it the camera, and that’s--“

“Do you remember?” Yixing interrupts, and Jongin pauses, sweat-slick skin shining under fluorescent lights and this is terrible lighting but Jongin is still beautiful. “The first time you saw my oversized print of ‘Tears Airport’.”

“At your studio.” Jongin narrows his eyes. “Of course I do. I wanted to tell you, then, that I… It doesn’t matter, I guess.”

“Do you remember what I said, about that photo?”

“You were in love with her.” Jongin is terse, and short. His adam’s apple bobs as he exhales, and his nails are digging into his palms. “Yes, of course I remember. How could I forget?”

What else did I say?” Yixing knows he sounds desperate, and he lets the feeling show on his face, too. He lets Jongin see it all. He’s stripped Jongin bare in front of his lenses and all he can do now is repay the favor.

“You said… she let you go.” Jongin’s eyes flicker up then, confused. There’s a strange light in his eyes now, and he takes a step closer. He smells like sweat and like his favorite cinnamon coffee and like floor cleaner, and Yixing doesn’t care because he probably smells like airport and like developer and like a halfway broken heart. “You said she let you go.”

“And then I said,” Yixing searches for the words, the exact words, because precision is important when you want to capture an entire scene, “I would never let the one I love walk out of my life like I walked out of hers.”

“I remember that, too,” Jongin says, and it’s soft and crackling. His tongue peeks out to lick his lips. “But-“

“I’m not going to let you walk out of my life,” Yixing says lowly, and he reaches up and fists his hand into Jongin’s damp tank shirt and looks at him steadily, even though he knows he’s shaking. Yixing tries to find words that are enough. “I look at the world and as soon as you’re there, I can’t see anything else.” He takes a shuddering breath. “In my dreams, everything but you is in grayscale. But you… you’re in color.”

“I thought color was distracting,” Jongin says.

“It is,” Yixing replies. “But just this once, it made things a little clearer.”

There are video cameras, and Yixing’s very aware of that. Jongin is too, but he still sets one hand on Yixing’s hip, and Yixing thinks Jongin wants to kiss him. Jongin’s eyes are soft amber and molten bronze and sparkling cinnamon, same as they were when Yixing had met him for the first time and been unable to look away.

Jongin laughs, and it’s sort of like a sob. “You’re… you’re so confusing.”

“I’m sorry.” Yixing curls his fingers tighter into the sweaty fabric. His knuckles dig into Jongin’s sternum. “But I love you.”

“You do?” And Yixing wonders if Jongin had only tried to leave because he thought Yixing hadn’t already given Jongin his whole heart.

Yes,” Yixing says, and Jongin exhales.

“That… changes things. I thought you-“ Jongin shakes his head, and tendrils of his hair cling to his cheeks. “I thought it was some weird, artist-muse thing, and you’d just gotten caught up in it and you’d find it easy to get over me, if I left you-“

“No,” Yixing says. “I want to take pictures of you because I can’t look away. And it’s not your face. It’s all the little bits of you hidden away that I can only seem to see if I keep looking.”

“Then,” and Jongin closes his eyes for a moment, before he opens them again. “I guess maybe it might be worth it, after all, as long as you let me see the hidden bits of you, too, sometimes.”

“We have a deal,” Yixing says solemnly, and Jongin is so bright he burns.

“You might never take a photograph like that again, with those emotions, but there are other emotions. There’s still a lot left to discover, for you,” Jongin had said, and Yixing, as he lets his hand fall back to his side, wonders if this is one of those other emotions; an unbearable obsession that eats him up inside and makes him wonder if it’s possible to take enough pictures to capture all the different ways Jongin looks when he’s in love. In love with Yixing. He thinks it might not be possible, but he’s willing to try.

“So can I take you out on a date?” Jongin’s words are playful, but there’s uncertainty lingering in the audible question mark. “A secret one, of course, because obviously I’m an idol, and I’ve already filled my scandal quota for the year—“

”We can go on a hundred dates, if you want,” Yixing wants to say, but he thinks Jongin already knows that, deep down.

“I think that would be nice,” Yixing says, instead, and this: Jongin’s smile stretching from ear to ear in a boyish smile as his hair sticks to his face and his eyes light up… This is a flashbulb memory.


A great photograph is one that fully expresses what one feels, in the deepest sense, about what is being photographed.—Ansel Adams


“So are you coming to my show?” Yixing asks, and Kris raises an eyebrow.

“I figured I’d be driving you,” Kris says with a laugh, and Yixing scratches the back of his neck.

“Jongin probably will, actually.”

“Isn’t that out of his way?” Minseok asks. He’s quickly correcting the size on the files Yixing had sent him—a series of photos on footprints, which is Yixing’s current obsession. Yixing’s making a website to collect other people’s photos and put up his own, but Minseok is the on who knows how big they need to be and how to upload them and all that.

“No.” Yixing doesn’t say it’s because Jongin will probably spend the day with him, as Yixing takes photographs of the way Jongin’s hipbones jut out when Yixing drags a fingers across the skin there, or the way his fingers and Jongin’s look laced together, Yixing’s hand thin and small looking wrapped in Jongin’s.

Lu Han’s always been good at reading between the lines with Yixing though, and he peers more closely at Yixing when Yixing doesn’t offer more information. “Are you… dating him?”

It sounds funny. Yixing doesn’t think of what he has with Jongin—an obsession with the lines around his mouth and the shadows that linger along the dips in his torso and the way he whispers Yixing’s name when he thinks Yixing is asleep or the way he’s never, ever still, as dating.

It feels a little different from that.


Jongdae whistles inappropriately as Kris looks up from his phone with interest, and Yixing realizes, belatedly, that he’s sort of dropped more than one bomb at once on his friends, and he braces himself for impact.

“So let me get this straight-“ Lu Han has his hands resting on the table behind him, and his fingers tap a rhythmless pattern into the wood.

Gay,” Jongdae says. “I think you mean get this gay.” Kris smacks him upside the back of the head.

“Grow up,” Kris hisses, but Yixing just laughs and adjusts the settings on his camera.

“It’s fine,” Yixing says. “Yes, Jongdae. Gay.” It’s not that simple, but Yixing doesn’t expect other people to understand when he doesn’t get it himself.

All Yixing knows is that Jongin is… Jongin is the person who dragged Yixing kicking and screaming out of his own reservations and fear, and Jongin is the person who makes it all worth it, in the end. Jongin is better than any Lucie award or any gallery show, because Jongin is an endless world of photographs Yixing has yet to take.

“It’s not fun if you’re not even the least bit defensive,” Jongdae says. “Also Lu Han owes me 300 yuan.”

“I never agreed to that,” Lu Han says. “I knew he’d figure out he liked Kai way before you did, you vulture.” He turns to Minseok with puppy dog eyes. “Didn’t I?”

“You sure did,” Minseok says consolingly, not looking up from the computer.

Yixing should be upset that his friends have been taking bets behind his back, but Kris looks dismayed enough for the both of them, so he settles for laughing, an effusing warmth spreading from his belly all the way up through his chest.

“I want to take a photo.”

“What’s stopping you?” Lu Han says, but Yixing shakes his head.

“Of you guys,” he clarifies, and Minseok spins around in his spinning chair as Kris blinks in surprise.

Somehow they all stand and assemble, and Yixing unpacks his camera from his backpack. It’s a new roll, so he takes a picture of the surge bar in the corner before he looks through the viewfinder.

“Smile, you guys,” he says, and as they bicker and clamor to fit together in front of Minseok’s desk, Jongdae bending forward in front and Lu Han making bunny ears behind him. Minseok is laughing as Kris stoically stands with his hand on the computer monitor and the other resting on Lu Han’s shoulder.

Yixing takes the picture before they’re ready. Minseok’s mouth is wide open in a laugh and Jongdae is looking up at Kris and Lu Han’s eyes are wild. Kris looks a bit constipated.

“Yixing, that was cold, man,” Jongdae says, and Yixing laughs.

“We can take another,” Yixing says, and he lifts the camera back up to his eye and squints through the viewfinder. “I’ve got plenty of film.”


Jongin holds the camera up, so neither of them can see through the viewfinder, lens pointed toward their mashed together faces.

“What’s the story?” Yixing laughs as he says it.

“An artist and his muse,” Jongin says, tone pretentious, and Yixing laughs even harder as Jongin presses the shutter.


Yixing is not a snake that can shed its old skin and start over anew, gleaming as it slithers free of it’s old shell into the grass.

But he feels sort of like that as Jongin’s hands slide down his arms and take Yixing’s long cultivated detachment with them layer by layer as he pushes in slow and gentle and fucks Yixing until Yixing claws at his back for release.

Yixing feels like he was a roll of film still in the can, and Jongin has carefully taken the negative of Yixing’s heart and exposed it; printing him perfect beneath stubborn lips and fluttering eyelashes.

TIP 10

One of the most important things about photography-- capturing the perfect photo of Jongin, stretched out across the sheets with one hand curled up and mashed into his cheek, lines from Yixing’s pillowcase across the other side of his face, and long legs almost golden against white cotton, is that one has to believe in luck.

No matter how great the photographer, one cannot take that ideal photo if there’s nothing to take it of.

Sometimes it’s luck that a photograph appears in front of Yixing’s eyes; like now, as Jongin’s chest rises and falls with steady, even breaths to an inaudible beat.

Yixing picks up his camera, sitting up carefully so he doesn’t disturb his sleeping love.

Yixing holds the camera up, squinting through the viewfinder until everything is a pale wash of whites and beiges and yellows, and the shadows of Jongin’s dark hair a vivid contrast against it all. Even in sleep, there’s still something restless about Jongin—Yixing thinks Jongin’s skin is dancing to make up for the stillness of his limbs.

He clicks the shutter, and there’s the whirr of sliding film in the belly of the camera; a simple 35mm roll.

Yixing smiles.

It’s color film.

When Yixing dreams, it’s alight with every tint of the rainbow, and Jongin’s eyes shine gold.

This is luck.


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Date: 2012-09-17 04:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] goldengutgirl.livejournal.com
HAHAHAHA SPOT OMG brb printing this out ♥

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Date: 2012-09-17 04:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ribbonsong.livejournal.com
So excited, will be back to comment! :)

Date: 2012-09-17 06:45 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] puppetmon.livejournal.com

Date: 2012-09-17 07:32 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com
thank you ;;

Date: 2012-09-17 06:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] windowright.livejournal.com
psst maia, in part 5, you have this:

In silence, they go back upstairs and retrieve coats and bags, and Yixing

i think you may have forgotten to put the rest of the sentence in?

Date: 2012-09-17 07:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] windowright.livejournal.com
I know I owe you thousand of comments on fics but in particular, I love photography; when I was in college, I ended up taking a photography class that made us use 4x4s, and up until then I'd never developed a photo by hand before, and rarely dealt with film, and it just completely blew my mind how different, how strangely freeing it is to use film like that. I thought I was just going to glance over the first part of this story and save it for another day, to read slowly and savor it, but then before I knew it I was rushing my way to the end because I just loved everything so much, the exploration of artistry and desire and pursuit of something perfect and the way we expose human interactions through those concepts and now I'm just rambling.

I have always first and foremost loved your group dynamics, and they're so perfect in this story: Kris the geese herder with his flock, Minseok always detached and wryly bemused, Lu Han who is unfathomably precious and supportive and an utter troll, Jongdae's terrible cooking, the way this EXO works together, A BAND FULL OF MAKNAES. I love the scenes where little things are happening and you just catch the jokes and smiles and banter as they pass by: the conversation with the salted rice, the first time you show us Tao in person, the first time you meet Chanyeol, and the way you describe the little things: Kris with lines like a New York building, Chanyeol always thinking everyone is his friend, they just stuck with me so much I know I'll be thinking of them often.

You've written a lot about Jongin/Kai in your fics already but every time I feel like I'm turning over a new stone with his character in your stories. I love just how close he is to the real Jongin, the EXO-K Jongin we know, the way his smile bursts out of him, his longing, the way he looks unreal and unlike himself in still shots, compared to the way we sometimes see him when he scratches his head and turns away in embarrassment. I love how your Jongin latches on to Yixing, but because you put us so much in Yixing's head, for a while we're almost led astray, and we only see him as object for Yixing's journey, but in the end it's the human Jongin, the one whose afraid of letting things go too far, of ruining Yixing's life, that emerges.

AND OF COURSE YIXING. I love how you've translated his past, his child star history, his own songwriting, into something perfectly in line with your story. And how we can imagine the real Yixing finding some spark of himself in his dancing with Jongin, how that feeds into the Yixing of your story, finding some spark of the photographer he thought he left behind (or maybe never truly achieved) with Jongin. I love his attachment to his grandparents, his grandfather's camera and his grandmother teaching him how to take pictures, that deference Yixing shows to the elders and mentor figures of his life. I love the way he still manages to throw Kris under the bus, that he and Lu Han share a kind of tenuous, opaque friendship that mostly consists of teasing and worrying Kris. You really draw attention to the, hmm, the construct? of the story, that it's kind of a guide to photography as well as Yixing's journey, and it really works. The little tips and quotes draw the reader's eye to the way the relationships develop, and build on each other like Yixing's understanding of Jongin. We get all these random snatches of Jongin's personality (his constant movement, the way he keeps himself under wraps because of his fame, his concern for others, his moments of unadulterated pleasure) and I think I was overwhelmed with them, just like Yixing, and I too had to take this step back from it in the middle of part six and think, wow, what does not being done with Jongin mean for Yixing?

AHHHHH in the end I guess all I mean to say is, you always immerse your audience so deeply into the theme you want us to discover, your characters are always charming, so charming, and your writing is so easy to read that it's almost criminal. I didn't even realize i had finished 40k, on a pairing I don't even ship...! I don't know how to do it, you are a machine.

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Date: 2012-09-17 06:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tillapia.livejournal.com
omg this was beautiful and I don't regret staying up until nearly 3 am to read this. ugh, all the feeeels.

I am really sleepy so anything I say will be less than coherent. in apology, here is an otter:
Image (http://tillapia.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/339/1322)


also, random, but I managed to catch one typo:
Yixing fires off two shots, clicking the shutter rapidly before the fade, and Jongin curses under his breath.
[from part iii]

Date: 2012-09-17 07:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com
thanks so much for typo catching! only certain chunks of this beast was beta'd, because my poor beta is but a student and her free time is oh-so-limited. <3 <3

I love the otter!!

thank you so much for reading ;______________;

i hope you get some sleep ;)


Date: 2012-09-17 06:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tatoeba.livejournal.com
a;sldkgja;sldg so i totally should've gone to bed like two hours ago but i stayed up and read this anyway and it was so worth it because omg just beautiful. beautiful. i love photography stories so i couldn't stop readint this and then the kaixing was perfect and i loved everything about them, yixing's world being all monochrome until kai walks in with his irrepressible colors and how that theme just wove through the whole fic to the end with the color film ugh and yixing's forever cluelessness and jongin's everything i can't i love how you write him and, and just T______T ugh maia you just amaze me every time ;_; i loved this so much and i'm gonna have to read it again tomorrow when i'm not half-asleep and just idk what else to say. sigh. this was so, so wonderful. ♥

Date: 2012-09-17 07:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com
;___________________; riha you always leave such great comments and it's crazy because it's like you're one of the reasons i wanted to write fic in the first place??? and my fangirl crush on your writing is so huge and so idk what to say other than thank you and asdfghjklg? and i'm so glad you like exo that we get to play here together because yeah you're great and i'm happy you like this story and thank you for reading it and sob idk just <3


Date: 2012-09-17 07:37 pm (UTC)

Date: 2012-09-17 08:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] playfulmelodies.livejournal.com

I'm late though orz

this fic is enormous brb

Date: 2012-09-17 02:30 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] playfulmelodies.livejournal.com
okay so I'm a loser who falls asleep LOOOL but anyway.

I just have no words for this entire fic. Everything is just so perfect from the writing style to the plot to the characters to the character development to adorable Lu Han to troll Jongdae to a;sdlfjkasldk Jongin to EVERYTHING. I'm not an expert on photography but still WOW this is just so breathtaking and I think I held my breath the entire hour it took me to read it.

I loved the contrast you made between the monochrome and color; how Yixing sees the world in monochrome and filters the colors out, but Jongin is still in color monochrome or not.


also, fashion coordinator!Baekhyun



so anyway, to wrap up this comment where I'm just babbling nonsense, you wrote another amazing fic and asldkfjaskl; I just omg how do you perfect



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Date: 2012-09-17 07:37 pm (UTC)
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Date: 2012-09-17 07:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com


<3 <3


Date: 2012-09-17 06:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] galbijiim.livejournal.com
I don't even, cannot type proper responses to your fics too goodly.

Date: 2012-09-17 07:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com
;_________________; <3 <3

thank you for reading <3


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Date: 2012-09-17 06:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nisakomi.livejournal.com
maia what do you mean you wrote 41k of kaixing

Date: 2012-09-17 07:52 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com
well i lost that bet about rng

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Date: 2012-09-17 07:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] kim-ri.livejournal.com
Holy shit spot

Date: 2012-09-17 07:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mi-iseul.livejournal.com
Read this thru a headache/migraine haze but just...wow. It's like you're writing about me (minus...well, ok I'm not Yixing obv. but yeah. I do the rest of it, including the walking into stuff, spacing out, etc LOL oops...). And just...there was a line I think in the first part that had me flailing like THIS THIS THIS all over the place. (about photography... I'm a digital photographer, and like Yixing in the story, I don't do people, though not for the same reason as he doesn't. I do landscapes, 'stately homes and gardens' and cityscapes, touristy type things but with an eye for postcards and stuff. Oh and macro photography, usually of the floral variety.)

Ok I found it in part ii. Tip 03. THIS SO MUCH. It's why I carry my camera almost everywhere I go, no matter where it is. There's always going to be something somewhere if you wait long enough and observe and above all, have patience to wait for it. THE shot. I've had a few and oddly enough, not always with my camera (one with my phone, in fact LOL that kind of weirds me out but w/e works, right?) but yeah. It's...I just can't say enough how much this is me. There are just so many moments in this story where I just had to stop and rethink...

Loved and reccing, definitely. (yeah I know my comment's not finished but migraine's killing me and there's just so much I want to say but can't...not without feeling weird and I've already prolly said too much as it is, but anyway...thank you for sharing. <3)

Date: 2012-09-18 03:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com
<3 <3 Oh man I have such a soft spot for macro photography!! My dad photographs ships, and when I was a kid I use to take one of his smaller cameras and try to recreate that effect but it always ended up horrible. i admit to LOVING digitial photography-- i just got a Digital Rebel, which is my first serious digital camera (always had film cameras for serious photos before) and I think i might be addicted.

I'm glad that as a photographer, you were able to see what I was trying to say-- I think there's something about being a photographer, or someone who is used to looking at life through a viewfinder, that makes you look at even the simplest things a little differently. I'm like... glad that connected?

<3 Thank you for reading, and commenting despite your headache <3 <3


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Date: 2012-09-17 08:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thatdayismine.livejournal.com
i thought about coming back to comment on this, but i don't think i will get across the exact feeling i want you to know i am feeling right now, having finished this and if this fic has taught me anything, it's all about getting the timing right and i don't think you deserve something diluted so please bear with me and how this might not be the most well-thought out of comments.

there isn't a single moment of this that i didn't think was breathtaking and perfect and all your hours spent editing were worth it and possibly more because i don't know how you capture things, thoughts emotions feelings all of it, so well. i love the little pieces of what you know, what you have lived and know about come across in your fic, it's always something i have appreciated immensely because it makes the work that much truer, something i can see and imagine and feel churning in my gut. i've always loved tone in writing, i think it does so much for any piece of writing and helps the reader to feel the emotion an author wants to get across far more than anything else, and the way this is almost consistently painful, like the pain yixing feels, the constant tug and pull of his ex, the way you used the dreams to show the conflict, the growth of yixing and how his ex is almost leading him toward jongin, that he needs to hurry up and realise he likes him, because even jongin can't wait forever. i just -- you make my heart feel like it's being wrung and that is just no fair, tbh.

you have this way of pulling in all these aspects of canon that we know and giving them more meaning and helping the reader feel like they know everyone even more than they might, like it's so comfortable to read your fic because you always nail characterization and you are so consistent. the yixing i read in favors the bold is a yixing i can see here, more subdued, more grown up but the way jongin pulls him out, the way he still makes kris' life miserable and is still bros with luhan and just loves his friends (omg my jongdae feelings ;~~~;) just makes me feel like crying. which, btw, i did. i cried so much around the bit where yixing finally tells jongin about his ex and the photograph and this bit:

“It is a choice,” Yixing says. “Because love is selfish, anyway. And I really… I really wanted her to be selfish.” It’s a raw, unpolished thought. Like undeveloped film still in the can, waiting to be exposed, hung up to dry. Yixing’s not quite sure, sometimes, how prints will turn out. “I wanted her to demand everything from me.”

but especially the last line, is my absolute favourite part of the whole fic. that is such a relatable feeling, and something i've felt before. it's something that resonates so strongly with me and god, today has been so much crying but god i didn't know what to do, i was just stuck in that scene and read it like three times because i couldn't move past it, couldn't swallow around the lump in my throat because, because i knew you'd bring the words back, you are so good at that afterall. i knew and when yixing does go back for jongin, refuses to take that goodbye as just that, i cried then too ahaha;;; i've always loved that about your writing, the way you repeat certain phrases and bring them back and they feel like a punch to the gut because they feel so powerful when repeated back, the memory of the earlier scene still lingering in the back of your mind and it's like being doubled over.

Date: 2012-09-17 08:32 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thatdayismine.livejournal.com
jongin was perfect too, i mean, who isn't but i love the way you see jongin, as this shy boy who's all smiles (seriously his smile gives me life) and passionate and its like something i wish i could capture too, because jongin is brilliant and when i had read borderlines the first time, and read jongin there, it had been like falling in love with him and to get to see jongin from yixing's eyes now was even better. you just catch all these details and your descriptions made my heart sing and the constant going back to how yixing wanted to capture jongin in all these little moments, bits of his soul just for yixing, they were my favourite. i can't quite formulate what it is about the way you write jongin but you do him so much justice and the way you worked around the arrogance issue that people always bring up about him and explained it as his anxiousness, the way jongin wants to protect the people he cares for, the careful way he indulges yixing and his friends and just everything, you, yes. idk, i can't quite put what i want to say across;;;

all i know is, i love this. love the little details, the way everything falls together, the fact that chanyeol was jongin's manager, the little jokes everywhere, the lovely conversations (heartbreaking and heartwarming and thought provoking), the scene where yixing is behind jongin guiding him through what he has to do to take a picture, the sheer tension of that scene alone, the way i felt like i was going to suffocate trying to read through it because fuck, they needed to bang already.

this: “Photos might take a piece of your soul in some old superstitions, but to me, they rebirth a moment.” was also perfect because of course you would flip something like that upside down, and make it brighter, something more lovely and positive and not as terrifying because yixing knows love is selfish but i like that he can see it as more than that, see it as something to live over and over and idk, maia, you're fucking amazing.

idk how you do it tbh. but i could pretty much roll around in anything you've written for the rest of my life because it is that amazing and wonderfully written and thought provoking. i feel so much for photography right now and i mean, it's always been a talent in others that i thought was awe inspiring, something i could appreciate deeply because a photograph can make you feel so much, take you back to something, remind you of something and that is just exhilarating.

i mean this when i say it, this is definitely my favourite work by you so far. thankyou so much for sharing this. i'm going to go cry now.

p.s. i probably didn't catch everything i wanted to say but just know that i don't think i have ever read something so perfect
Edited Date: 2012-09-17 08:34 pm (UTC)

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Date: 2012-09-17 08:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] one-if-by-land.livejournal.com
MAIA WHAT DO I EVEN SAY. TT___TT Your stories are always so complete, so thorough; I don't know what I could possibly add to them in a comment. :(

First, your Yixing. The way you developed him throughout the story, like developing an old roll of film filled with favorite moments that we get to rediscover all over again when we see the finished product. Yixing forgetting to zip his backpack, his clumsiness when it comes to the parts of his life that isn't his art. Wondering if it's selfish to be a photographer, to steal memories from other people. Yixing, so focused on his craft (wandering off to look at photographs instead of mingling, constantly framing pictures in his mind, thinking about textures and shadows and hues), his compulsive need to take photographs, so accurately mirrored with his irl love of performance. He's so wonderful here.

I love that moment when Yixing's perspective shifts from Kai to Jongin - hard edges disappearing into softness and warmth, that split-second click when Yixing realizes that he's interested, that he wants him. Kai, trying to hide and make himself smaller in posture when we first meet him, and Yixing drawing out his colors. A boy who is sometimes a man, sometimes shy and sometimes cocky and always moving. AHHH LET ME DROWN IN ALL MY JONGIN FEELINGS. I don't know why I'm so drawn to this pairing, except that I want to believe that they pull the best out of each other, that each of them challenges the other's weaknesses, and you wrote their dynamic in a way where I wanted so desperately for them to both find happiness, to know that if they only let themselves, the missing answers to all their questions are right in front of them.

The idea that they're each the exception in the other's life, yes - Jongin breaking all of Yixing's imposed rules, even the ones in his dreams, the solitary hello in a sea of goodbyes. And Yixing discovering Jongin in a way that Jongin doesn't even know himself; Yixing showing him that he's more than gloss and images, that he's real and layered and so, so priceless, worth so much more than just a pretty smile and a sculpted face. I love that entire section about how Jongin usually feels trapped in pictures, suffocated by tireless recognition, the fame and expectations, the stalking - except when it's Yixing behind the camera, those pictures are what help set him free from the idol constraints.

You are so impossibly good at depicting friendships. ♥ All those amazing nuances like Yixing knowing which side of the desk Kris keeps the important papers, Jongdae's terrible cooking that Yixing eats anyway, Lu Han knowing when to press and when to pull back, Yixing joking about Kyungsoo rumors with Jongin. And your tiny details that stay with me long after I finish reading, like Kris missing his pockets and sliding his hands down his pants instead (is this a "History" dig, keke), Sehun crossing his ankles delicately (maknae pls u___u), and Zitao's false modesty.

And the humor is so subtle and delightful!! Minseok salting Lu Han's rice, the bowl sneakily getting passed around until it reaches Yixing. /:) I think that scene is my favorite, especially the ending line to that passage - Now Yixing can taste the salt. It stings on the edges of his tongue. - because that's what I love most about your Yixing, how you're so good at zeroing in on all those moments where we can tangibly see him learning more about himself, growing, recovering. Discovering old pieces of himself that he thought he'd closed off that Jongin slowly teases to the surface, and that crowning breakthrough when Yixing finally sees the larger picture.

Last but not least! This fic is so.... instructional, almost. I'm so impressed with how you managed to weave all the technical aspects of photography into the actual fabric of the story itself, and it's clear a lot of research and planning went into the details and descriptions. I'm not a skilled photographer by any stretch of definition, but reading this has totally made me want to learn more and expand my own limits. Thank you always for the inspiration. ♥
Edited Date: 2012-09-17 08:47 pm (UTC)

Date: 2012-09-18 04:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com

i'm so glad you liked it ;_____________;

i feel like kaixing is a quieter pairing; it's not all fanservice and loud moments (which i love, too), but it's more... soft affection and late nights behind the scenes and a camaraderie like they're both soldiers in a very long war. they seem to have an unspoken understanding that is tangible even from through a screen, and i imagine it's even more striking in person. i really... like them too, hahaha.

kai is so delightfully complicated, and as always, i've projected a bit-- yixing likes the same things in jongin that i like in jongin-- the sheer contradiction of him! the way he's swiveling hips and obscene mouth gestures and then awkward giggles and embarrassed backward cringing.

i think i-- have some sort of attachment to the idea of self-denial. like; wanting something so much and constantly telling yourself you can't have it. i think it's something i see a lot in idols, especially-- the way they slowly become so resigned to things like airport mobs and hungry hands and eyes that they forget, a little, that letting your dreams come true doesn't mean sacrificing yourself completely. there's also the fact that in asia, the idols that do remember that are often... sort of villified, which is a whole 'nother can of worms... ANYHOW. jongin in this wants badly but he's been burned, and i wanted to give him a happy ending too.

friendship is my number one fav thing to write :D i think i've told you that before; that i love writing the ot6/ot12 stuff so very very much, and that one of the reasons i love exo is that i'm a sap for good bromances. ((and of COURSE it's a history dig-- how can i skip on a chance to tease my boys v.v)

and the scene with the rice is one of my favorites too! i really love exo-m so very much ;____;

Ah! And I'm glad the photography stuff wasn't too much! I always call my stories "zero percent plot, 50 percent imagery, 20 percent dubious meta, and 30 percent 'no one cares' details" and hey-- it's nice when the 'no one cares' details, that i probably spend so much time on, are something someone actually DOES care about-- my dad is a photographer, so for me this is all very much stuff i grew up knowing, but i tried to make it clear and easy to follow along with even if you know nothing about photography... with a few winks and nudges for people who do :D

And I love your photos v.v <3

thanks so much for reading and commenting (sobs a little)


Date: 2012-09-18 01:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hanniewon.livejournal.com
omg. omg. remember when i told you your next au might complete my life??? omg photography. omg déjà vu. i'll leave a proper comment when i've finished reading this. /still emotionally high on exo-m's first win and crying yixing and crying duizhang/.

Date: 2012-09-18 04:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com

Date: 2012-09-18 01:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] reebeegee.livejournal.com
I should have done my chemistry lab report before reading this.... now I can't focus

Ugh this was soooo gooooooodddddddd. Now I'm dying to go back to high school and take my photography class all over again because I don't have time to do that sort of stuff anymore :/

I adore the way you wrote Jongin in this and Yixing's tendency to space out when he gets sidetracked and starts thinking about things. Just love all 6 parts of this and then some. I almost wish there was more lol. But this must have been a beast to write. It's so long.......

Date: 2012-09-18 04:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com
isn't it amazing how we miss stuff we took for granted when we were younger /sob/

I'm so happy you liked it!!! <3 <3 yes, this was a bit of a monster-- but i survived it! and so did you! i appreciate that!

thank you so much for reading and commenting :D :D <3

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] reebeegee.livejournal.com - Date: 2012-09-19 05:44 pm (UTC) - Expand

Date: 2012-09-18 09:26 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] airplanewishes.livejournal.com
Spotting because.

Maia. I have so many feelings about this and I'm not sure if I can express them all, or if I can even express the ones I can properly. But even after a couple of hours of reading this, I still feel the story and feel like I'm still reading it. Honestly, it felt like a movie to me, like I was actually watching things unfold, watching Yixing hold himself back, watching Jongin burst into color and it's all so beautiful. I was a bit emotional at the end because there were a lot of things that spoke to me, like I always feel like things are moving too fast, days are going by, and I'm trying to hold on to things, to people, to moments and I feel like I can't, and with the way you portrayed that in how you described photography and with Yixing trying to capture Jongin, that just hit me.

I see photography how you kept on describing it here, capturing moments, reliving them, memorizing them. I've never really taken any classes or seriously dabbled in it, but that's what my purpose would be if I did. The way you incorporated it into the story was like in reverence to the art and the beauty in it. Especially now that everything's digital already. It was really, really beautiful how you tied everything together.

I enjoyed the stark contrast between Yixing and Jongin, black and white vs. color. It showed in their every interaction how they were so different and I really admired that. Their characters were so distinct and so defined every step of the way and you could just see how they grew beside each other, trying and eventually understanding how the other person was like. I like how your Jongin here is like how he really is in real life. He really is such a colorful person and the way he changes when he's on stage and how he is normally is shown perfectly here. And then there's Yixing and his history and how you interweave everything together.

I also really really loved the friendship between Yixing, Lu Han, Kris, Jongdae and Minseok. Friendship in fics are always something I look forward to because it makes things more real and more fun. I love how Lu Han is observant and how Jongdae is such a bad cook, and how Kris knows Yixing so well and just...all of them. This is one of the things, among all of them lol, that I enjoyed reading. The last part was classic. The picture-taking actually got me emotional for some reason. Hehe. :D

But my favorite part of the story was in part 5, where they're outside by Jongin's car and Jongin was telling Yixing that he shouldn't mess with him. I was literally holding my breath throughout that scene. I was waiting for what was going to happen. There was so much tension that I even had my fists clenched.

Your writing is so amazing, Maia. I'm not being biased or trying to be flowery with praises, but you really take my breath away with your writing. Especially with this one. Just when I think that you've written amazingly again, you suddenly go on and write this. This is now my favorite fic from you and probably in EXO fandom. I really feel like crying because this makes me so happy and feel so much. I'm going to be all cheesy now and say that I feel proud we're sort of friends. It's an honor to be at least friends with you on Twitter because you're brilliant and it amazes me that I kinda know you. Your writing inspires me in so many ways, not just in my own writing.

Thank you for sharing your talents and for writing this and for just being you. :)
Edited Date: 2012-09-18 11:11 am (UTC)

Date: 2012-09-25 06:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com
still in love with this comment. ;_____;

i'm such a huge fan of denial, because it's such a huge part of the dynamic that makes romance interesting to me-- i don't even know why, haha, but people telling themselves no makes it so much more meaningful, then, when there is finally no choice but to say yes.

did you think i would make them kiss, in part 5???? that was my cocktease moment of the day <3 <3 <3

and... thank you so much. i just really love to write, and i know that the way i write isn't to everyone's taste, but i'm glad that some people like it-- that it's the sort of fic that some people can connect with, because i really want to make people connect with me, and with the EXO boys as I write them. And I'm glad you loved this fic-- this one and UL are the most personal fics i've written for exo fandom and i... ;; <3 well, i'm just really glad. and i'm glad you want to be friends with me ^^ i love making friends so much <3 <3 <3

just, thank you, thank you ;________;


(no subject)

From: [identity profile] airplanewishes.livejournal.com - Date: 2012-09-26 04:13 am (UTC) - Expand

Date: 2012-09-18 09:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mihyung.livejournal.com
let me write a coherent comment when it's not almost 3am and when my brain isn't exploding (`・ω・´)”

Date: 2012-09-18 05:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com
thank you so much for reading ^____^ <3 <3


(no subject)

From: [identity profile] mihyung.livejournal.com - Date: 2012-09-19 05:21 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com - Date: 2012-09-25 06:40 pm (UTC) - Expand

Date: 2012-09-18 01:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] becquinho.livejournal.com
MAIA ♥♥♥


I fell in love so many times (and got really excited about words!!!!!!!! while reading it..just because your writing and characterization is so exquisitely tangible T___T gahjagsjhdgsdkhjgfh)

The structure of the piece was especially enchanting :( ♥

*bubblewraps you and all the words in ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥s*

Date: 2012-09-18 05:07 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com
*crawls into the bubblewrap and stays there forever*

dsfkgjhgl but your taste is too refined to be reading my fic, no go read goodfic somewhere omg ;_____; ((although your taste in exo members is as dubious as mine))

i'm glad you liked it though even if i can't believe it <3________<3


Date: 2012-09-18 03:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cut-thestring.livejournal.com
evidently i cannot find the right words to say how much i love this--because i do, really, and it's giving me so many feels i literally can't. your characterisation and imagery and just the way you write is so vivid and gorgeous, especially spacing it the way you did with the 'tips' and 'flashbacks' and dreams and everything.
again, this is so lovely~ ♥

Date: 2012-09-18 05:09 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com
;____; <3 <3 thank you so very much. i'm so happy you liked it, and the structure, too aslkfghfd <3 <3

thank you so much for reading, and for commenting <3 <3


Date: 2012-09-18 05:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lonerleo.livejournal.com
So good! Omg love your writing

Date: 2012-09-25 06:40 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com
<3 <3 thank you very much!!!

Date: 2012-09-18 07:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] parksoobyung.livejournal.com
Posted my sane comment in the 5th chapter. All that's left for me to say is


Date: 2012-09-25 06:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com

Date: 2012-09-19 02:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hipployta.livejournal.com
Oh my...how gorgeous was this story...it makes me want to stop being lazy, stop hunting for the perfect DSLR, and use film for photos


Date: 2012-09-25 06:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] maayacola.livejournal.com
digital cameras have their moments but film has some kind of MAGIC *___*
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