Pairing: Jared x Reader, Tom, Shep Word count: 1,327 Warnings: Angry!Jared, rude people, a swear Request: Anonymous. Could you please write an imagine where Jared is dating a much younger woman (like 20-22) and they both get a ton of hate because of it. And then at a convention someone asks her a really rude question about their relationship during her panel and Tom and Shep hear or they see her getting hate online and they get super upset because they love her. And then Jared gets SUPER pissed off because someone made his kids and gf upset
It never bothered you that there was an age difference between you and Jared. You were almost 22, and he was 34. That was nothing in your mind. It wasn’t uncommon for you to hear of age differences in older couples, so why should yours be an issue?
Not everyone felt that way, however. You did your best to avoid reading comments and hate blogs. It didn’t always work, but you tried not to let it get to you. Some people were just hateful, or needed an outlet.
Jared and the boys loved you, and that’s all that mattered. Now and then, the three of you would join him at cons. It was fun getting to see him interact with fans, and it warmed your heart when you saw some of them truly touched by meeting him. He’d done a lot of good with his fame, something that made you love him more.
Currently, you were on your way down to watch one of the panels, loving how goofy they got. They were not afraid to have fun, that was for sure.
[i’m juggling about four different flashback-era fics right now and this snippet fits into none of them, but i’m fond of it and so i thought i’d post it here for the last day of james/miranda/thomas appreciation week. happens at some nebulous point between the 2.01 and 2.03 flashbacks.]
“Tell me about yourself, Lieutenant,” Miranda says, smiling at him over a spoonful of soup. “Thomas says your father was a carpenter. Are you from London?”
I'm glad the interviewer asked him that, as long as people are famous you're going to have to deal with it either way.
I see a lot of people dismissing certain behaviours as it just being “the way that things are”…and just because something is commonplace doesn’t meant that it’s right.
The absolute best response I’ve ever seen to an inappropriate line of questioning has got to be from Richard Ayoade here:
In which he makes it abundantly clear that he is there to promote his book, that his function in that interview is for publicity.
Being a celebrity shouldn’t automatically mean that you’ve foregone your rights to privacy or that strangers are suddenly able to pry into your personal life. I find the notion that someone should just “deal with it” as very problematic, especially having been on the receiving end of such questions in interviews.
I wouldn’t at all class myself as a celebrity, but throughout my writing career I suppose I could be categorised as a person of interest, especially when I began blogging. I did many, many interviews with just about every national publication in the UK and because I had no representation or any clue at all really how to deal with those kinds of questions, I basically just refused to answer any questions that I thought were inappropriate.
When I did and interview with Oxford’s student newspaper, The Cherwell, the reporter named Theo was asking me all kinds of things that I was in no way comfortable answering, such as how many people I’d slept with or how often I masturbate. Just really blunt things that were pretty out of line for someone I was chatting with over Skype messenger. As a result of refusing to answer most of them I got a distinctly average review from them (x), and they even went so far as to question whether I was actually a student at Oxford or Cambridge.
However, I would never take back the way I’ve handled myself in the media since I can still go and find that article some pimply faced boffin wrote about me back in 2010 and be like, “I said what I said motherfuckers.” I would be rather ashamed had I been pressured into talking about things I didn’t even blog about.
Being in the public eye means that people have a very false sense of familiarity with you. Who I am in person and who I want to be perceived as on my blog are not always the same things. Everything I write is true and it is certainly a very distinct aspect of my actual personality, but just because I write about sleeping with someone doesn’t mean that I want to talk to strangers about it. I don’t even want to talk to my friends who know about the blog about it.
Writing for me isn’t to be like, “Hey! Let’s all talk about this thing I did!” More often than not I write it and then want to move on. These are things that have happened and often are sometimes humorous, which is why I write about them, but it isn’t an open invitation to demand that I explain myself.
Similarly, attempting to get a closeted singer to out himself on your shitty radio show is so aggressively inappropriate that I don’t even know where to start. Harry did what I would consider his best to answer the question without actually answering it. The last time I heard him speak in such a clipped manner was was probably when that other DJ asked him whether or not he liked Eleanor and he said, “I don’t want to talk about it.” Unfortunately he isn’t exactly in a situation where he can say, “I don’t want to talk about it,” without raising a red flag, and yet his response was actually infinitely more telling than had he just simply said, “I don’t want to talk about it.” I have never heard Harry sound so flustered or make that sound where he blows air through his mouth two times in a row rapid fire. My entire core clenches with anxiety just thinking about the way he sounded and I would never wish that kind of personal invasion on anyone.
The idea that, “Well Harry chose this, he can come out if he wants” might be true, but I’d venture to guess that it definitely is not. There is clearly something keeping him from being able to come out, and if it is the pressure of the industry, I think it’s entirely unfair to say, “Well that’s how it is. He should just learn to deal with it.”
Why should someone have to choose their career over being able to be queer? The inherent homophobia in a capitalist society is entirely to blame, not Harry Styles. And as for women who choose to try and further their pathetic singing, modelling, acting and cooking careers by exploiting this kind of situation, I think that’s worse than the invasive journalists. Living in LA I’ve heard the mantra of, “That’s just how it is” relentlessly. However, I will never agree that it’s how it should be.
I am in LOVE with the night club au. I would love to see more of it if you ever felt like it. I know you mentioned them sitting through a police raid... Also I love when you do fahc from an outsider's perspective, it's so good and so enjoyable. Keep up the good work :)
Thanks so much! I really didn’t stick to
the perspective as well as i meant to but i just wanted to knock something out
without going back to fix it so it is what it is.
As for the raid, well. Normally Geoff’s contacts are enough to keep that sort
of thing from happening no matter what kind of business he’s meddling in, but
every now and then someone fresh and optimistic comes along trying to change
the world, or one of Geoff’s crooked pals forgets what they owe him, and
the club is subjected to a night of privacy infringement and poorly veiled
insults courtesy of Los Santos’ finest. The notoriety of a raid never hurts FAKE’Sbusiness but any night spent entertaining the boys in blue is a
night not spent raking in the cash from the public, and that just does not make
Geoff a happy man.
Still, when the police descend and pull him
from his office Geoff stays cool and calm and infuriatingly smug, Jack
professional and blasé at his side, and the pair conduct every interview with the
perfect polish of upstanding citizens despite everyone in the room knowing they
are as guilty as sin. They’ll smile, will answer questions as their property is
invaded and their people are harassed, they’ll pointedly refrain from
mentioning that the police chief is a close friend of the business, and no
matter how thorough the search is they’ll never be caught with a scarp of
None of the casual workers have anything to
say, not privy to any of the background business, but even if they were they’re
all smart enough to keep their mouths shut, and all too soon they’re deemed
useless and sent on their way. Steffie and Matt tend to play themselves out with
the crowd and laugh at the others come morning, saved yet again by their
ability to refrain from stirring up a hornet’s nest, avoiding aggravating the
cops in a way the rest of the FAKE’S crew
is oddly incapable of.
The main team are not so lucky, though for
the most part they bring it on themselves; intentionally infuriating and
insufferably cocky they all toy with any member of law enforcement they’re
faced with no matter the rank, daring them to bite back, safe in the confidence
that there’s no trouble Geoff and Jack can’t get them out of. Corralled to the
side of the bar to await their questioning and watch the raid unfold not one of
FAKE’S diehard employees can refrain from
commentating, calling out particular officers who look like they’re slacking or
making suggestions of places to look, slouched together in their insolence, collectively
laughing off every attempt to bring them into order.
Ryan, Jeremy and Michael always play their
interviews the exact same way; stoic and unimpressed with crossed arms, incredulous
looks and just enough menace to keep things interesting without tipping all the
way into threat. Lindsay and Mica swing
from overtly airheaded to ruthlessly clever brutally enough to keep any member
of law enforcement too busy trying to dig themselves out of the pit of offensively
sexist stereotyping to bother collecting any viable information. Trevor pleasantly
answers every question without ever actually answering a single question, and Gavin
is, as always, a menace. All big guileless eyes and affinity for starting
trouble he pokes and prods, taunts and teases, chewing up and spitting out
officers like they’re regular patrons of the club, but the detectives are
another matter altogether. They always circle back to Gavin, closeness to Geoff
making him a prime candidate for interrogation, and for all Gavin hates them
they tend to hate him right back, or pity him, or on one notable occasion that instantly
turned the tone of the room from amused to quietly furious, call him all kinds
of unpleasant names casting aspersions on his character and role at the club.
That particular detective didn’t last long;
for all he mocked Michael’s sudden snarling appearance and Gavin’s scathing
response, sneer only wobbling in the face of the cold, silent judgement of the FAKE’S around him, he wasn’t laughing
when Geoff caught up to him later. Wasn’t laughing when he slunk back into the
club the next night, face burning with humiliation as he issued a full blown
apology in front of everyone, suffering through Gavin’s haughty dismissal and turning
on his heel to leave. He certainly wasn’t laughing when Ryan, Michael and
Jeremy sprung into motion at a nod from Geoff, effortlessly cutting through the
rolling crowd like wolves as they silently followed the detective out into the night.
Safe inside the dancers keep dancing,
keep drinking and flirting with the staff, keep gossiping about FAKE’S latest brush with the law as they
pour their hard earned cash into the club, utterly oblivious to the free
lesson in minding one’s manners that is transpiring in the unlit alley out back.
I'll respect either decision, but I have to know: Chikariko plus jealous You or lowkey OT3? To me, You and Chika feel like a long lasting platonic relationship, while Chika and Riko have something romantic going. I could even imagine Riko sometimes letting You "borrow" Chika, respecting her feelings and all. Still I'm not convinced of the poly triangle, although I do love reading stuff about it! What about you?
I’m afraid I might be answering your question without really answering your question but here goes ^^;
I ship chikarikoyou as an OT3 in a friend way definitely, but I don’t know about as an romantic OT3. I guess I’m more of a ‘just ChikaRiko’ shipper, but that doesn’t meant there has to be “jealous You” added to that! I hope You will eventually be able to come to terms with Chika and Riko’s relationship. (Of course, it’s not easy and it’ll be painful for a while) But I sincerely wish for her to be able to move on, with her heart clear and no bitter feelings, and maybe even find a love of her own
"Are you lost too?" Eden felt like they'd taken an amnesia pill on an XL floor. They knew nothing of their location except that it was full of shrubs and apparently contained this cat as well.
“Are you ?”
Answering a question by another question without answering damn it Jaz, whelp, there you have it, a bitch Hellcat lost in a place she doesn’t know and…. well she’ll never admit it so, we can say a dumb bitch, at the same time…What’s that naked kid doing here?
So, somebody has to ask... in the end, why was the sugar bowl so important and who's got it now? Maybe it's "the wrong question"!! :-)
You’re kicking over the anthill, mysterious volunteer! As you can probably guess, the topic of the sugar bowl is a can of worms that will be explored and analyzed in due time in its own theoretical article. I’ll try to be short and sweet, however:
The sugar bowl is a macguffin (this trope is literally mentioned in The End) that’s meant to drive the plot ahead without being explored. Think of it as the suitcase from “Pulp Fiction” (about whose content Quentin Tarentino has repeatedly said he neither knows nor cares). Daniel Handler himself has probably hazarded a guess as to what the sugar bowl contains, but I doubt he ever plans to reveal it in the canonical texts.
Nevertheless, I’ll try to satisfy your curiosity under the cut.
Close your eyes. What do you see? Close them hard and don’t open them for anything (or anyone). Where are you? Is it blue thunder skies and ice tea bombing inside the gut? Is it dipped inside a pitcher of stars? Is it atop a ghost ship, sailing seas that don’t exist?
What do you see? And don’t tell me fires. Don’t tell me a pyre of bones that do not fit right anymore. Don’t speak of wolves that do not even scratch at your door. Speak of truths. Of realities like dust mites piling up underneath the cupboard. Of a moon with its misty head hung low and its quicksilver hands joined in prayer for you.
What do you fear, you inexplicable thing? What are you mourning, asides from your own savage heart? Or ghosts that have yet to become ghosts? Or toils that are imagined? Where does this symphony of weeping blooms begin? Where does it end? (hint: the twist of your nicotine lips controls the mayhem of the tides).
You’re afraid. Just admit you’re afraid. Admit you aren’t psychic, that you don’t know what this fish-tailed future holds in store. Admit that if you choose to linger, that its 25% of your life sucked up like hard candy and spat out into pools of reminiscence.
The trap door of longing awaits like a portrait with no face or a landscape to which there is no map. You burn a little longer, a little lighter at the threshold as if you might take a too-large gulp of the sun and unintentionally make a bonfire of your ribcage, as if you might trip on telephone wires and lose your reflection to city windows.
Are you a girl or a gameshow? Every right answer leading you a little closer to a glittering one million dollars?
If it’s so hard to pick, maybe you should go back to the snowglobe where you came from. Build yourself a castle on a cloud and fall asleep to percussions of day dreams that will never come to be. Chase specters of old fairytales and hungers that’ll never be curbed. Build a bridge of bloody regrets.
Look, what I’m trying to say is. Maybe you hold the whole world in your upheld palm. Maybe there are bells ringing in your soul (warning church & warning war, each merciless in their own way, each lifeless without the other).
Maybe you are the winter’s inkling, feather-hearted and waiting. Wings poised for flight, bird-beak sharpened and a gaze that cuts through time and space.
Sometimes, the leap is a monster, other times it’s a miracle, and maybe sometimes it’s worth crossing the monster just to taste the miracle like rosewater crush on your parched tongue.
Sometimes, you just have to close your eyes and not think.
Brainless Girl Attempts To Answer Questions Without Answers || j.r
I just recently got a prescription for an emotional support dog, but I’m also moving to Georgia in July. Does anyone know the rules about them in apartments? I’m moving to a pet friendly apartment but there’s a fifty pound weight limit on the dogs. I haven’t adopted the dog yet, but all of the potential candidates are well over the weight limit seeing as they are mostly mastiff breeds and mixes. Do they have to be within the weight limit or does that not matter because they are support animals? I’ve tried to ask the landlord but he seems hesitant to answer my questions. His only condition without answering the weight question is that it must wear a vest to signify it’s job when walking it around the grounds. Also do I have to pay a pet deposit/rent if it is a support animal? Everything I’ve read online contradicts itself so I’m lost.
That’s Enough Extra Credit (Peter Parker x Reader) Oneshot Request
*I deleted the original ask, sorry :c but the idea is that they were studying and stressed out and they get distracted, some fluff ensues.
A/N: Heeeyyy :D So here’s this request. I’ve never done anything Peter Parker so i hope i did it well and that you guys like it. Thanks again for 200 followers, its awesome seeing people enjoy the stuff i write, i still can’t believe you guys like my weird sense of humor lol. Anyways you may proceed to the fic now. ~Until the next one ^*^
‘I’m on my way to the library for a study date with my crush and it’ll be fine and i won’t embarrass myself and I’ll ace tomorrows test and I’ll graduate high school and I’ll get in to College and I’ll be fine.’
You told yourself in an attempt to calm down. The stress and pressure of school easily got into you so you didn’t want it to ruin the little time you got to spend with Peter.
You only had one class with him so when he offered to be “study buddies” as Mrs. Benson your history teacher puts it you practically screamed yes, but you had to keep your cool obviously so you settled for an indifferent ‘yeah sure’ then turning around and tripping over your own backpack, at which point he laughed.
As you got closer to the library you spotted Peter sitting at the fountain outside of the building. He was on his phone so you started walking towards him but he looked up and saw you and smiled then he started gathering his things to head inside.
Why didn’t you wait for me inside?“ You said as you both started walking towards the glass library doors.
“I…they wouldn’t let me stay without a library card.” admitted Peter
“Hmm,that’s funny because yesterday at school when i couldn’t find you during lunch you said you had been at the library.” you pretended to think while tapping your chin with your finger
“I did? I said that, hah yeah well i meant i was in front of the library in that same fountain over there…uh…doing homework! Yeah using the library’s free wifi.” Peter held the door open for you with a huge grin hoping you’d buy his story and not ask about it any farther.
“Suure you were Parker.“ You rolled your eyes smiling and walked in, he was always up to something you just never knew what.
“We’ll luckily i am a regular and always have my card.” You said pulling out your card from your pocket and holding it up triumphantly before checking in at front desk.
“(Y/N) saves the day.” Peter joked nudging you with his arm
“Alright Parker, down to business, we already have all the material we need to review for tomorrows test. I’ll get some books from the French History section for extra research and you could get started on writing last weeks lesson on flash cards which i never got around to doing.” You were in ‘the zone’ as you call it. You were going to study, you were going to learn and you weren’t planning on stopping until your eyes stung from reading.
“Woah there, slow down (Y/N).” Peter put an arm on your shoulder and walked with you to one of the tables. “You are going too fast and we literally have all day, so calm down.” Peter said as you sat across from each other on the table
“What do you suggest we do then?” You said crossing your arms and leaning back on your chair
“Talk.” Peter said grinning
“Talk. Parker the test is tomorrow morning.” You told him getting out your test review
“Did i mention i like it when you call me Parker?” Peter leaned in towards the table with a smirk that was making you blush nervously. You couldn’t handle his little smirk, it was too much.
“Yeah ok nope! Im-im gonna do this you should read along if you want to pass. I really need to do this Par…P-Peter!” You stuck your nose in your papers to hide your furious blush and began to read all about tomorrows test. Stopping at certain parts to try and answer the questions without reading the answers.
At one point you looked up from your papers to check if Peter was following along only to find that he had abandoned the review completely and was resting his head in his hand while staring at you with a lazy smile.
“What are you doing?!” You shrieked “You are so going to fail.” You said pushing some flash cards towards Peter
All he did was chuckle in response. “(Y/N) relax, i already studied for the test this weekend, i even did the extra credit work and you know this whole test by heart, I’ve heard you say all the right answers for an hour now.” He took the review away from you.
“You studied?? AND did the extra credit work?? Prove it.” You squinted your eyes at him in disbelief
Peter rolled his eyes and sighed then he stood up and slung his backpack on the table and proceeded to open it letting dozens note cards highlighted in bright colors to fall out onto the table with a satisfied grin.
“Oh…” you said bearly audible
“Then why did you ask to be my study buddy??” You looked up at him confused
beginning to swing your converse clad feet back an forth, a nervous habit.
Peter shrugged and avoided eye contact with you, now he was the one that looked nervous.
“Parker.” You furrowed your brows and scrunched up your nose in the process, a trait you got from your mom.
Peter sucked in a breath. “Because i couldn’t think of another way to get you to spend time with me.”
Your face fell into one of surprise. Your eyes were wide and your mouth just hung open looking for something to say back buy you couldn’t muster anything out of shock.
“I thought maybe we could hang out this way. Because i sorta, maybe, kinda like you.” Peter shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at you then looked away playfully
“I-I don’t…why didn’t you just say so from the start?” You couldn’t believe you where one of the lucky ten people who’s crushes liked them back.
Peter placed both his hands on the table at either side of you so he was at eye level with you. Having him so close was making your heart race. “Because you are very cute when you are concentrating.” Peter smiled and planted a kiss on the tip of your nose.
Which made your heart skip a beat and get all red, so you hid your face in your hands.
Peter laughed.He couldn’t help but think you were adorable. “How’s that for extra credit?”
“I think that’s enough extra credit. You win Peter.” You giggled and started putting away your things.
“Nonsense, you can never have too much extra credit. How about we head to the fro-yo place across the street?” Peter said putting away his mess of note cards
HARRY: You couldn’t stop replaying the video clip. Over and over, almost on loop, and each time you would look over your shoulder to where Harry was lying against the headboard, eating an apple.
“It was just a flub!” Harry cried out, having already said it before. He had tried to explain himself, but all he could do was apologize and chalk it up to a mistake.
Rolling your eyes, you played the video clip again. It was bad enough, the interview, but the worst part was that it had been your grandmother who emailed it to you. Usually, you didn’t pay attention to Harry’s interviews.
“It’s safe to assume the song is about one of your ladies then…?” The ‘journalist’ asked the group of boys as they sat, side by side, almost squished on the red couch. Awkward chuckles erupted from all the boys as they tried to steal a moment and each figure out how best to answer the question without really giving an answer at all. “Is it about you [Y/N], Harry?” They pressed on.
Your boyfriend flushed for a moment, shrugging his shoulders and clearing his throat before giving his hair a quick shake.
“You know what, I like that, yeah, it could be, because she is a sexy little animal after all.” Once more he shrugged, looking happy with his answer before catching shifty eyes from Louis and a chuckle from Zayn that suggested he was a total idiot.
“It’s not that bad. It’s a compliment, really.” With his mouth full of apple, Harry said from behind you. He reached around to turn your YouTube off as if that would stop you from seeing the clip.
“Harry! My grandma sent this to me! My family has seen this!”
ZAYN: “Ah, I knew this would happen!” You darted around the small dorm you called home as if you had just swallowed an entire bottle of caffeine pills. “Why did I let you stay over again?” Grumbling, you asked your boyfriend rhetorically while throwing your messy bed head into a ponytail with one hand while shuffling through your laundry basket with the other.
“Because you can’t get enough of me.” Sleepily, Zayn smirked with his eyes closed. He didn’t have a meeting with the head of the faculty he was trying to get into. He could sleep in for as long as he wanted. He was on break from tour after all.
“Yeah, that must have been it.” Rolling your eyes, you mumbled and began to swish a little mouthwash into your mouth before spitting it into an empty mug on a wall shelf. There was no time to jet to the end of the hall where the communal washroom was. You put on deodorant and squinted into the mirror, without any lights on, and tried to cover up the bags under your eyes and color your lips in with a quick gloss job. “Can you pass me that? The dress?” You nodded at Zayn and then pointed at the cotton blue dress that had gone over well in your last job interview and when meeting Zayn’s parents. It was hanging up on a plastic hanger on the curtain rod. Sitting up reluctantly, Zayn reached up and handed it to you, watching with sleep in his eyes as you danced your body into it with a few quick movements. “I love you.” You knelt onto the bed’s edge and reached over to kiss him, ignoring the morning breath alive in his mouth and then picked up your black heels and flew out the door. It was a busy morning in the hallway, as it always was on Mondays since most people had early morning lectures or just wanted to get to the cafeteria before all the bacon was gone.
“Hey babe!” You could hear Zayn on the other side of your dorm door. It swung open and before you could turn around to see his arm sticking out, you and the rest of the hall heard him. “Don’t forget your lucky thong. It’s always worked for you.” He chuckled, shaking the little black piece of fabric around. Zayn had never been to University, he didn’t know how population dorms were. You spun around your heels, a dead stare in your eyes while your face turned thirteen different shades of red.
LOUIS: It had been a while since you felt completely zen. In fact, you weren’t sure if you had ever been zen before, but right now, after a day of being pampered at the spa with two of your best friends - you felt zen. It had been your boyfriend who encouraged you to go. You two had just moved in together and you were constantly running errands to get the place together when you weren’t in class or studying. He thought a little time focusing on yourself, getting your toes done and a nice facial would be a nice treat for you.
“Louis?” After kicking your flats off at the door and locking it behind you, you called out. While you two lived alone, your place was rarely silent. A television was always on playing sports recaps too loudly to be considered background noise or music would be playing out of one of the rooms and pouring into the other. It wasn’t uncommon for one of yours or Louis’s friends to just stop by either and take up refuge in your kitchen, blabbing away and helping themselves to a drink. “I guess he is not home.” You said, only to yourself while walking into the kitchen and putting your purse down on the counter. Without a second thought, you took your cellphone out of the flap to text your boyfriend. With your fingers and eyes focused on the screen in your hands, you walked absentmindedly towards your bedroom. As you stood in the middle of the room lit only by the sunlight through the window, a sudden force grabbed you by the shoulders while a loud roar surrounded you. All you could do was scream and scream you did, dropping your phone and turning around to face Louis and his version of a frightening face. Not even a beat later, he was laughing so hard that he had to hold both his sides. You started to catch your breath, zen feeling gone, and you shoved your palm into his heaving chest.
“You jerk! I peed myself a little bit!” You laughed slightly, though still looking cross and terrified.
“It was priceless. You are too easy!” Forever a prankster, Louis chuckled and reached around to embrace you in a playful hug. To make matters worse, Niall wandered out from the master bedroom, his cell phone recording the whole thing.
“Damn, you were right, Lou.” He chuckled, typing away on his phone. “This is going on vine. I’m going to call it ‘[Y/N] wees herself’.” He said, looking and sounding so proud of himself.
NIALL: Niall and you had a lot of things in common. You both liked music and bonded over going to live shows together. You both loved food and spent nights together devouring take out meals in bed. You both liked sports and took walks to the park together to kick around the ball or toss a Frisbee back and forth. However, what you two shared the most was a wild sense of humor. You weren’t afraid of doing anything or saying anything around him. He saw a side of you not everybody did. You would do bad impressions together, tell obnoxious stories, and even just make weird noises that only you two understood. It was a special little thing that you got to do with Niall and only Niall. You could go to a concert with any of your friends, eat like a farm animal with any of them, and play ball, but you couldn’t be as crazy as you were with Niall with anybody else. He let you be yourself and you loved that most about your relationship.
Surprising him while he was away had been something you wanted to do since he first mentioned he was going to be heading out on the US leg of his tour. Perrie had helped you plan how to get there and find him, so you felt confident once you arrived at the venue in Seattle. A security guard led you through the winding hallways of the backstage area and you even gave yourself a quick once over in a mirror before walking into the group room that the boys chilled out in before a show.
“Babe!” Niall shouted, putting down his water bottle and nearly jumping over Lux to wrap you up in his arms, kissing you on every inch of your face. “I thought I wasn’t going to get to see you til I came home.” He looked completely astonished that you were there. Niall couldn’t have wiped the smile off of his face if he tried.
“You’re here.” Louis emerged from the washroom, tilting his head from the side and then waving. “Please, do the Truffle Shuffle for us.” Like a little boy, he sounded like he was begging. You gave him a look of confusion for a moment before spotting Niall’s expression of guilt.
“You told them!” You gasped, nudging him in the side with your elbow.
“Truffle shuffle! Truffle shuffle!” The boys, all but Harry, chanted in unison with childish grins on their faces.
“So, when I said ‘don’t tell anyone I can do this…’, what did you hear, Niall James?” You asked, holding your pelvis while jetting it out to the side with enough sass to be considered a cartoon character.
LIAM: You were finally starting to feel at ease with the rest of the boys in the band. Even though you and Liam had been together for a while, it was a process to work your way into the close knit web that the One Direction family had created. However, they all seemed to be warming up to you especially now that you and Liam had gone on a vacation together. They looked at that as a big step. If Liam was serious enough to be taking you away to a resort in the Bahamas for two weeks, they could consider this relationship the real thing. While Liam was sensible, he could be naive when it came to the girls he chose to be with and they just wanted to make sure you checked out first.
You were sitting quietly, legs folded at the ankles, on the tour bus while Liam was emerged in showing off pictures of your trip on his Iphone. He had Zayn on one side of him and Louis on the other, peering over and adding in commentary almost every time your boyfriend slid his finger across the touch screen.
“The beach was gorgeous. It was private and white sand, just fucking beautiful.” He licked his lips and went on, wishing that you two were back there already. He flicked his finger again, but he was looking up at you and smiling, giving you a wink as he remembered how much fun you had both had on the beach.
“Uh, it’s beautiful, Liam, but I don’t….I don’t think….” Zayn flattened out his lips with an uneasy expression, looking away after holding the photo in his gaze for a few beats.
“This might be my favorite shot.” Louis laughed, looking at you with a nod and cheeky grin before looking back at the photo.
“Oh Jesus!” Liam cursed, finally looking down to see where he was in his camera roll. He moved his finger quickly a few times, going past the four pictures of you he had taken on the beach, topless in the water with your arms over your head. He was looking at you now with apologetic eyes and with the way the other two boys were laughing it didn’t take you long to recognize what happened.
“Liam!” Shrieking at him, your eyes dilated to the size of dinner plates as you felt your whole body shudder from the horror of the situation.
“And here Harry said you were a prude.” Louis winked at you, just teasing you the way he would any one he considered a friend.
Something short and sweet before I go to sleep. I’m not thrilled with Niall’s, but c’est la vie. Do you guys prefer short preferences or the long ones I usually write? Let me know.
I think what infuriates me about people blaming Killian or viewing his actions in 5.03 in a negative light is that they are ignoring every single thing we’ve seen regarding HIS relationship with the Dark One in order to hang on to these conclusions that he: doesn’t love her enough, that he should love her as The Dark One, that he should be able to see past the darkness.
They are ignoring the fact that Killian doesn’t see this as Emma, he sees this as something that has consumed her, something that has taken her over, something that is systematically destroying her.
Killian had a front row seat to several of the Dark One’s most despicable actions, not only in their shared past but just mere months ago in Storybrooke.
Killian has seen first hand how drastically the Dark One changes not only the person burdened with it, but the people around them who also suffer the consequences of their actions.
His beautiful speech in the cabin should make it clear that Killian recognized that the man Rumple was, is completely separate from the man he became.
He witnessed a complete transformation of an individual from someone meek and cowardly into someone ruthless and savage and he saw that drastic change happen in real time.
In his discussions with Bae he obtained further proof that the change is gradual, that the individual tries but they are taken over and possessed eventually. He knows there is a point where the person they were either does not remain or is so deeply buried not even True Love can bring them back.
As far as Killian knows, in his experience, by embracing the darkness you literally become a different version of yourself.
Remember that Killian is the ONLY ONE that has this unique perspective. Anyone else who is willing to accept Emma, darkness and all, doesn’t grasp how far she’s going to fall, how completely different she will be, and not for the good. Only Killian has seen this and only he knows the implications of it. He lost a person he loved because of it, a person Rumple once loved as well. He knows Spinner!Rumple wouldn’t have hurt Milah, but the demon wearing his face did.
That scene in the cabin also showed us that he feels partly responsible for that transformation, and he is unwilling to be part of that once more. He won’t contribute to that again, even if this time it would be through love and not bullying.
Killian spent most of 4A trying to directly appeal to Rumple’s humanity, to appeal to his love for Belle. He gave him another shot to be the person he was, to bring the person underneath the darkness to the surface. He was testing he depth of the darkness once more.
He explicitly encouraged him to chose love over power several times and he failed every time, he watched as Rumple
made the wrong choice again and again and he felt the consequences of that choice, not only with his own heart but watching Belle suffer for it afterwards, and helping her heal over the course of those 6 weeks.
The Dark One always choosing power over love is confirmed for him when Belle tells him that’s exactly why their attempt at a True Love’s Kiss didn’t work, that the man Rumple was tried to break free but he couldn’t because he wanted the power and the Darkness won.
He now has pretty compelling evidence that in Rumple’s case he’s done this historically and continues until the very end. He reached a point of no return and could not be called back.
Killian at first, firmly believes that Emma is not too far gone, that this time it will work despite all his evidence to the contrary, so he takes a leap of faith, he puts his hope in HIS Emma being stronger and he kisses her. He believes she isn’t too far down that rabbit hole yet that she can’t be recovered.
And it fails.
She too chose power over love just like the Dark One’s before her, and this is Killian’s first indication that this Emma is not his Emma, that like Spinner!Rumple she has been overtaken by the Darkness and is now a completely different version of herself.
His Emma wouldn’t fail, so what other
conclusion can he draw other than it’s not his Emma?
This is the evidence that Killian has to go on with in his interactions with the Dark One. This is what HE knows.
Everything that happens after the failed kiss tells us this is exactly his state of mind:
At the bar with Belle he talks of saving Emma, not reminding her of who she is, or compelling her to make a different choice, but saving her from a threat. Saving her from something that is overtaking her.
He seems reluctant to meet her for lunch in the diner. He senses it’s a manipulation before he ever sets foot on that boat.
He doesn’t just dive in and assume he’s right either, he’s gives her a few more chances to gauge how far into the darkness she is, seeing how much of his Emma remains.
He asks her point blank if she’s his Emma and she admits she’s different. She admits to him she’s changed.
When she avoids his question about the door and mentions she could easily hide things from him with her powers, this is more proof to Killian that this is not the woman he knows. She is further gone than he thought.
And he tells her that. He doesn’t sugar coat it. He is up front from the start: Emma didn’t play games. You aren’t Emma. Listen to my experience as to why Emma wouldn’t say or do these things.
If you are paying attention you can see him testing her and visibly getting increasingly upset and frustrated when she fails each test. When she does something or behaves in a way Emma wouldn’t.
Each time it’s another blow.
He didn’t immediately go into that conversation necessarily treating her like DarkOne!Emma, he went in suspicious based on his past history, but he still gives her several chances to tell him the truth and she doesn’t each time.
Just like with the TLK, she makes the choice a Dark One would make, not a choice EMMA would make.
Killian has always viewed the Dark One as a possession of an individual, as a demon, as an entity that consumes and takes over. An entity that inhabits the body along with the person they used to be.
He always refers to it as such and when he speaks to it, like when using the dagger, he addresses it directly as Dark One.
When he asks what she’s there for he doesn’t say Emma, he asks The Dark One.
When he talks to Robin later he says “She’s too far gone for that”.
This is Killian’s state of mind and whether he’s right or not remains to be seen. The point is you can’t judge his actions based on what couldhappen or what might eventually happen, you can only judge him based on what HAS happened.
To Killian, the woman he loves was overtaken by a force he has already watched take over and consume another. Last he saw her in Camelot she was newly fighting the Darkness and struggling. Then he sees her in Storybrooke apparently fully consumed, but he’s not sure, so he tests her, repeatedly, each time gauging her responses to see how far gone she is.
He establishes she’s pretty far gone.
When he says “I loved you” he is speaking to Emma not the darkness. He won’t tell the Dark One he loves it, and give in to it, instead he tells Emma he loved her and he will again when she is herself. As I pointed out before it’s a very clever way to handle that question, answering without answering, and very in character for him.
Whether he is right or not about how the mechanics of the Dark One work is irrelevant, this is what he knows, what he has witnessed and confirmed over hundreds of years, and very recent direct experience, so that is what he is basing his actions on.
It lines up nicely with the idea of Light Swan/Dark Swan and plays on that duality. Whether it actually manifests itself that way remains to be seen but I think we have sufficient evidence to assume that is what KILLIAN is basing his actions on.
If he’s wrong, and there is more going on behind the scenes of the Dark One, he can’t be blamed for using several hundreds years of personal experience.
He can’t be blamed for thinking of this as two separate entities based on what he knows, it certainly presents that way, and even Emma herself sees it that way both during their conversations right before her taking it on and in Camelot.
He hasn’t given up, he won’t give up, he’s still fighting and he’s convinced he will win, and to imply otherwise is to misunderstand both the situation and his character, but you can’t blame him for taking actions based on pretty compelling evidence he’s gathered over hundreds of years, and has tested again and again.
I just wish people would stop judging a character’s actions based on what THEY know and judge them based on what the character knows.