#chav rob

[itsevanffs]

You’ve got to tell me about 17 and 23 <3

haha, i love that you chose two very unhinged toms <33

17: junkie tom au

this one is really fun but i'm gonna put a tw right here for excessive drug use, violence and dubious consent in the way of (unwitting) prostitution. these boys are not good for each other and they fuck each other up hard, but hey, they're having fun i guess.

premise: harry's a bit of a night animal and likes going to parties in the evening when he's not studying. he's not easy, not really, but he likes a good fuck so he dresses appropriately. tom sees him, and, high off his ass, instantly decides he wants to smash. harry's not all that keen on fucking a guy who's visibly higher than the moon in the fucking sky, but when tom offers several thousand in cash for a fuck, he agrees. they have sex, harry gets his money and leaves before tom wakes up, then goes on with his life and doesn't think about it anymore.

that is until a few days later, when a copy of tom riddle but several decades older contacts him and offers him the very well-paid job of being his son's exclusive escort.

okay so. harry's a bit of an asshole in this one, and tom's definitely a fucking asshole, which means they're great for each other, clearly (not). tom sr is Not A Good Dad, and tom gets worse before he improves (but he does it for absolutely the wrong reasons) and then becomes unthinkably dreadful. all in all this is not a happy fic in the slightest. it's a pornfic with a fucked up plot. (i love them.)

---

23: chav tom au

this is a GREAT au and tom is basically equally as unhinged but in a far more wholesome way.

premise: twenty-five years after the war, harry has settled into a house in a fairly quiet neighbourhood in manchester under the fidelius to take a break from the constant attention being a national hero brings. he's entirely alone - but he's fine that way. he's on a 3am insomnia-induced grocery run for chocolate and flavoured water when he gets cornered by a group of roadmen who want to rob him of his wallet. resigned to his fate, harry prepares to lose his beloved sainsbury's nectar card - when an unlikely hero saves the day with an even more unlikely weapon.

this one's great because it's drawing on personal experiences of mine (not being robbed. nor being saved. the manchester stuff. very boring, i know) and it's inspired by one of my favourite fics in another fandom! :D it's in my bookmarks, you'll find it if you're looking for it. and it features bottom tom, which automatically makes it my favourite /hj

ask me about my wips because i'd love to tell

(snippets under the cut.)

17:

"Tom," Harry sighs, shoving the suspicious looking bag of powder away from the man's reach. "You can't mix that." "It won't kill me," Tom slurs, grinning as he shoves his face against Harry's neck. Harry lets him - he knows by now that if Tom gets touchy, it's best to let him do his thing - but rolls his eyes to the ceiling all the same. "It'll leave you in the hospital for at least two weeks. And that's if they don't do a forced detox and get a court order against your father to send you to rehab." Harry snatches up the baggie before Tom can try to reach for it again. "Tom, no." "Why not?" Tom asks, pressing a sloppy, wet kiss to Harry's collarbone and peering up at him. "I can take more." "Because I said no. Do you want to fuck or not?" Tom pouts. "That's unfair." Harry sighs, pushing his fringe back from his forehead. He thinks about the two-thousand pounds waiting for him at the penthouse, as they do every time he accompanies Tom to a party. He musters patience. "Hey, pretty thing," an unfamiliar voice says over the music. Tom stiffens against him, pulling back slowly, and for a split second Harry worries he's having an episode. He turns to look, relaxing only slightly when he sees Tom glaring at someone instead, the arm around his shoulders tightening. "Back off, fuckface," Tom growls, and Harry looks to see who he's talking to. It's a guy with a glass of beer in his hand, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Sorry, sorry," the guys says instantly, backing away slightly. "I didn't want to try anything, I swear." "I saw how you were ogling him, you piece of cock." Tom rises from the couch, steady even to Harry's eye despite the hefty amount of narcotics in his bloodstream. The arm around his shoulder pulls away as he does, and Harry sits forward, grabbing his drink and taking a sip. He's kept a close eye on it - it shouldn't be tampered with. Still he lets it sit on his tongue for a moment, tries to gauge if it tastes any different. It's fine. Tom cuts off the guy's protests with a sudden punch to the nose. "Jesus fuck," the guy cries out, scrambling backward, dropping his glass to cradle his nose. "You're fucking insane! I'll call the fucking police, man!" Glass shatters and beer splashes over the feet of anyone near. Harry's just out of the splash zone, so he doesn't move - though he eyes the spreading puddle warily. These are his good shoes. "Fucking try it," Tom says, pushing forward and shoving the guy back roughly. "They'd tell you to keep your filthy pig eyes off my fucking property." That's too far. "Hey!" Harry calls, standing up and shoving his drink down on a nearby table before marching forward to grab Tom's arm. "I'm not your property, you sick fuck-" he hisses, yanking him around. Tom turns, eyes wild, hand raised above him to strike and Harry flinches away on instinct. Nothing happens, though, and Harry eyes Tom warily before Tom's smashing their mouths together and wrapping his arms around Harry, making them both stumble a little under the force of the movement. Tom's clumsy in his high, sucking Harry's lips into a bruise, and he pulls away before long, casting one hateful look back at the stranger who's still clutching his nose, supported by someone from first aid, before he's got Harry's arm in a death grip and is tugging him to the exit. Harry lets him. He thinks of the money.

23:

"If I give you my wallet, will you leave my chocolate?" Harry said. He'd paid for it fair and square and his craving was only getting worse as time passed. The leader looked at his lackeys again, rolled his eyes, and they all approached at once. The lackeys grabbed Harry’s arms, and Harry started pondering on the chances of his using magic to get himself out of this situation going unpunished. After three seconds, he decided his chances were decidedly low, and was about to just give up and try not to get shanked, when out of nowhere, a… a milk bottle. It flew against the leader’s head. Someone had smacked the roadman leader guy in the head with a litre of Sainsbury’s home brand - from the looks of it - milk. Before Harry could really process the entire ordeal - he’d fallen on his arse in the scuffle - the men were scampering off, yelling unintelligibly, and Harry still had his bottle, chocolate and his wallet. A miracle, truly. There, standing in front of the glare of the streetlight so that it haloed his head, was the chav from before, milk bottle slung over his shoulder, head thrown back in a mildly appraising look. “Uh,” said Harry, “Hi.” The chav’s lips parted in a handsome grin, baring pearly, definitely whitened teeth before he crouched down a little, sticking out an inviting hand. Harry took it and let himself be tugged up with embarrassing ease. “Hello,” said the chav, and Harry was a little surprised he could understand him at all. “What’re you doing out on the streets at three in the morning?” “Buying chocolate,” Harry said without a pause before thinking about it for a moment. “And getting mugged.” “I could see that.” The chav turned, his side profile - also handsome - put in stark contrast against the streetlight as he looked this way and that. “The way you were acting it almost looked consensual. Are you into that sort of stuff?” Harry tried not to show how much that affected him, and not even in any fun way. “How old are you?” “Forward, are we?” the chav said, winking at him. Harry couldn’t actually see him do it, but he could feel it in his bones. “Twelve,” Harry decided, turning to leave. “Thank you, but-” “Hey, hold on.” A strong hand grabbed hold of his wrist. “Wanna grab a drink? Your treat, since I so heroically saved you and your chocolate.” “And my volvic.” “And your volvic.” “Look,” Harry sighed, pulling his hand back futilely. The chav didn’t let go. “Have you seen my face? Everyone keeps thinking my ID is fake. Even if I did go drink with you, they’d throw me out of the bar.” “Not even a mocktail?” That whitened grin widened. Harry thought of his less than inviting couch and his melting arse pocket chocolate, and looked down a little sadly at his strawberry volvic. “I guess…” he began, unsure. “I’ll have to put this away first, though.” “I’ll come with,” the chav volunteered cheerily. “Can’t have you being mugged again without me to beat them off, can we now?” Harry raised his eyebrows and conceded a little painfully. “My knight in neon nikes,” he agreed absently.

ask me about my wips :relievedie:

#the summary of these two: tom trying to get laid #it's working #if you were wondering #tomarry #harry potter #fanfic #snippet #ask #ask game #drugs tw #violence #and a litre-bottle of milk #you might get some tonal whiplash from these two

[rosalielesbianhale]

#chav rob #pbm #twilight renaissance #twilight #robert pattinson #tgp

[crispopowers]

five nights at chav rob

#has this been done before? #probably #but it’s whatever #n e wayz #robert pattinson #chav rob #five nights at freddy's

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

Good Louis Posts 1

MUSIC and BUSINESS

• LOUIS LEAVES SYCO

• Louis’ working with women and POCs, his hilarious band, the livestream crew. Matt Dinnadge best band member.

• Louis and feminism

• Louis 2020 sightings and timeline, My 2020 Year in Review, Top Ten Moments

• A Louie rec Masterpost

• Tumblr Louies

• Twitter Louies and more Twitter Louies

• Tumblr Louis content creators.

• Twitter Louis UAs

• What’s a RAD? 

• Savan Kotecha was wrong. Louis was the Leader.  OT4 hangouts post-hiatus. Louis was everyone’s best friend

• The Trueclours Project: the Larrie witch hunt

• On Walls’ charting #1 in 24 countries 1 October 2020, and media not covering it AT ALL

• Maybe Louis doesn’t want to chart

• Louis voice, a masterpost, high notes, masterpost of vocals

• Louis’ musical influences, NF, first 28 songs, why is Louis talking so much about Oasis

• Louis and ethical merch, again, his style, fav hoodies, the chav image, lyric drop 2 merch. Earth Positive merch.

• Louis’ coded clothing, Guns ‘n Roses Get in the Ring, in streetwear, his chav sensibility, ethical merch, a selection of fashion, tribute to Davide Sorrenti

• A Louie’s fashion appreciation, avant-garde  streetwear, does he wear track suits to look macho?

• On Louis’ communicating through clothing which have nothing to do with Larry

• Louis and 🏳️‍🌈, the ankle tattoo, Pride, 🏳️‍🌈, 🏳️‍🌈, 🏳️‍🌈, 🏳️‍🌈, 🏳️‍🌈, 🏳️‍🌈, 🏳️‍🌈,🏳️‍🌈, 🏳️‍🌈, masterpost by Kat! (Thank you!), Scala, Premios Telehit, lgbt fans

• Louis Tomlinson was the One Direction fan favorite

• Jojo the pap and the triangle 🔼 ankle tat, on writing songs meaningful to LGBT community, and being meaningful to closeted fans

• Four Five Seconds at the Live Lounge

• Bella Penfold at TXF, DLIBYH at TXF

• Louis and the pride flag on tour

• Report from Club G A Y, the pride flag at CCME, testimony from a fan

• Louis’ LGBT support throughout the years. There are no gendered pronouns in Walls, and on writing gender-neutral songs

• Louis at the pride tent at Glastonbury, 2019

• Only the Brave being celebrated at Pride 2021 worldwide

• 2022: Louis recognizing a transgender fan and using the correct pronouns

• The set-up to a “homophobic” image

• Louis defying toxic masculinity, on the X Factor 2018, a young fan, on the difference between gender performance and true defiance of gender norms, and a young autistic fan

• Another young fan

• An Only the Brave fan

• The Larry breakup, Rob Sheffield’s take

• What about RBB/SBB? And here.  

• Mike Navarra,

• Post Malone as a Louie. The Red Hot Chili Peppers / Post connection

• Mr. Sam Claflin: a Louie

• Winning 2020 96.5 TDY Artist of the Summer

• Why does Sony promote Harry and not Louis?

• A Harrie takedown (tw: Emmie)

• Of all the boys, Louis alone does not have positive media around him. Louis’ first team and the many conflicts of interest. Another excellent post by @dearly

• 2015 Billboard article describing the One Direction contract

• Singer-songwriter Nilüfer Yanya was recruited to join a girl band by Louis Tomlinson in 2015

• Why did Arista see Louis as a small artist?

• Why was Louis’ Spotify This Is Louis Tomlinson gone?

• AllAccess: Why isn’t Louis’ music on the radio? About branding

• Mark Grondin on the BB Hot 100

• How performance and songwriting royalties are split

• Just Like You masterpost

• Just Like You timeline, and what Lilo’s tweets tell us

• An LT1 timeline, X Factor timeline, a fan’s report of LT1 being “ready to go” at the time of XFUK 2018

• Steve Aoki had heard the first album LT1

• Sexy lyrics king

• Help timeline

• The drop in numbers between Back to You and Miss You.

• On Larries leaving Louis in 2017

• Hits Daily Double didn’t know a Louis Tomlinson in 2017

• Miss You spectrum

• Drag Me Down: now and then

• My thoughts on LT1 and LT2, Pop punk Louis, Going forward

• Interview 2016-2018, being papped every three days in 2016

• Unseen One Direction videos from 2012: x    x 

Part 2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7

#good louis posts #louis masterpost #louis tomlinson

[tothedarkdarkseas]

Hey! I've seen cul(t)chie be used to tease. I doubt non-Irish folk know it, so I wouldn't call it pejorative. Or maybe it was and I'm too young to know. I selectively forget and disown my ethnicity if I want to and have a habit of stealing accents or slang, especially when I sing, so I'm not nationalist enough to say. My accent is also very light (Think Rob Sheehan). If I find out my favourite celebrity is half-Irish or I'm reading a Wilde book, I'm very Irish. And if I'm talking to a nationalist or a cute English boy, I'm suddenly global and assimilated. Haha.

You don't really have to worry about looking ignorant. I think most people won't notice and find it endearing that you're interested, not to mention the UK is so full of cultures that almost everyone is clueless about half of it and pretending not to be. Most people I meet use Americanisms because they grew up on American telly. It's just a part of life. I've always enjoyed your writing because you take such joy in concepts that most British people are derisive and bored with. Makes being British seem enjoyable and nostalgic almost. Lmao.

I'm still struggling to untangle my feelings about ethnicity and all of that rubbish (who belongs here and who speaks like this and who grew up in my primary school and whose parents have this skin colour and whose great-great-grandma worked in the mills and who assimilated and whatever), so I'm not an expert on anything. Whole thing gives me a right headache and I strongly consider walking around with a full face mask because I don't want to be arsed identifying with anything or anyone some days.

I can never find believable slang when I'm writing either, so I know how you feel about that. If you're interested in checking out more British things, there was this comedy in the 90s (around the time Gorillaz was set) called Stella Street, which ripped the piss out of British celebrities and actually starred Phil Cornwell, voice of Murdoc. I remember watching it when I was younger. Not sure if this ask sent, so if I'm sending it twice and look like a tit, that's super. Best wishes!

First, I am so sorry it has taken me well over a week to answer you-- I don't like to let things sit for so long, and especially not something so friendly and personal. I didn't want to rush out a response between work tasks, and blah blah blah, all of that's just yammering, but I am sorry for the delay!

Thank you for your personal experience with the word cul(t)chie, that really helps to classify how a word is used. It must sound bizarre but it really can be quite difficult to get a realistic image of how often/when a slang term is used, and in a lot of cases, how offensive a word may be; in any culture there's going to be a massive sliding scale on which the language & dialect sits, and as native speakers we sort of take for granted that innate knowledge of when a word sounds cool or funny, or when it sounds horribly inappropriate but you're taken pity on as an ignorant outsider. For instance, 5 years ago, I don't think any Americans knew the word "chav"; 2 years ago, a percentage of small-time comedians online picked it up; now, we are still in the, uh, developing stages of an even smaller percentage learning there's context to words and it's not necessarily an okay thing to say all the time. Yet even as I say that, if my friends ask me to explain "rude British words" to them, I very much still don't have an innate understanding of how each and every one ranks and who is more likely to say what, if anyone genuinely says it at all. It doesn't help that the slang dictionaries which take on a fairly literal dictionary style will sometimes forgo words like "insult" and "slur" (which you'd assume may indicate some level of severity) and instead categorize everything from berk to nonce as "pejoratives." You well know that there's a big gap between calling someone those things, haha. And on top of that, more than once I've run something by Danni ElapsedSpiral or done some research on dead Livejournal "Britpick" communities and found a word to be much milder than it seemed, or much more offensive than I originally thought. I know I'm rambling on now but I've genuinely become really really engrossed in this subject-- if I were some kinda smart guy getting a degree (author's note: I am not that, I am in fact a dummy) I'd want to do a paper on the subject or something, haha.

Anyway! I understand that split feeling (inasmuch as one can understand though a different lens of experience.) At least for myself, I really root it in my own contrarian tendencies, haha. I have a compulsion to not agree with whoever's talking loudest. Like any younger liberal person, I spend most of my time criticizing America, associating patriotism with nationalism, dreaming of what life would've been like living in some "idyllic British countryside" town, feeling such a sense of shame for how the country's insulation has impacted my growth as a person... with those qualifiers, it's bizarre how one insufferable comment on a Reddit thread makes me start mentally compiling points for my terrible thesis, haha. Listen, it was a mistake having countries. It ruined a pretty cool planet. I wish I could be perceived alongside people I agree with socially and politically rather than people I'm actively voting against and actively vote against me just because we're on the same massive hunk of dirt.

For what it's worth, Robert Sheehan's accent is incredibly charming. I'm sure you were not asking for my input on that at all, but on the chance you were saying that your accent is light or that you borrow accents with any apology, I certainly don't think you should feel like your accent needs to be made lighter or heavier or more or less regional, or that you should or shouldn't sing any particular way. I think it's quite cool to pick up accents and phrases while still bringing your own unique voice to the mix for others to admire and pick up on themselves! Kumbaya and all that, but it's nice to think in the modern internet age we could sort of have this evolving, mishmash global culture without stepping on and disrespecting individually important heritage. I have a complicated relationship with my own accent; I hated it when I was young and really trained myself to speak without it. It comes out when I'm just with my family or partner, but I'd never let myself be recorded speaking with that accent-- I really have to be so distracted that I'm not thinking about my voice at all to have an accent, and I am much too high-strung of a person for that to easily happen, haha. So the one or two recordings that exist of me on here are me doing my "public" voice.

I know it's all rather heavy subject matter and I don't want to give the impression I'm being flippant about something that weighs heavy in your mind-- it's just quite different, "interesting" in a decidedly uncheerful way, to observe the unique struggles regarding assimilation and identity in the UK, coming from my admittedly uninformed perspective. It isn't something we're very privy to. There is a huge problem in the American perception of the UK and Europe as a whole (sometimes including the UK under that umbrella, sometimes distinguishing it) as a quirky fantastical mono-culture. Even among the anti-nationalist, progressive kids online, they grow up resenting the cult of patriotism and bigotry in their backyard, and they idolize what seems more romantic without understanding all of the distinct cultures or the familiar xenophobic depth of division between them. I try to talk about these things and hear about lived perspectives so that I can have both a healthier appreciation and a broader unglamorous knowledge. Just as I appreciate a warts-and-all character study, I don't find it personally difficult for opinions, fondness, failures and truth to co-exist in a bigger, more precise, more realistic picture. My only aim is knowing. I don't like looking at the picture less when I can see more of it.

Thank you for the recommendation! I'd like to say I've watched it all since you've sent this but I haven't actually found it anywhere yet. (When I first looked it up, Google's top result was... Stella, from A Streetcar Named Desire.) I'll keep an eye out though! I'd love to hear Phil acting in something pop culture-y with a similar Gorillaz tone, as the only other work I've heard from him has been the polar opposite of Murdoc, haha. That's fun in its own way, but I'd like to hear him doing what I could maybe imagine as a less absurd Murdoc. (Though by your description, it sounds like the show may not actually be less absurd, haha.) As an aside, I've got a few British pop culture books on my holiday list so I'm looking forward to reading and reporting back anything of special Stu-y/Murdoc-y interest, which I gladly invite you to chime in on!

Thanks for your message and I'm sorry again for the delay! And thank you for your opinions, kind words, and listening ear! I hope this was sensible enough to you and doesn't make me look like a raving lunatic. Best wishes to you!

#anonymous

[joshslater]

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“Yo, anyone here?”

Brock closed the door to South London Styling behind him and surveyed the room. He had no idea what to expect, but was pleasantly surprised by the interior. It looked like a good barber, perhaps even towards the higher end. A man in his thirties, dressed in black polo shirt and pants emerged from a back room, and greeted him. “Good Morning. How can I help?” he said in a British accent, which Brock had always thought sounded smart.

Brock pulled out a card from his khakis and handed over. “Well, that’s the thing. I don’t know what you do. It was just my birthday and the frat house gave me this card. Wrapped in like 30 envelopes.” He was reassured by the surroundings. Jake got a gift card for a lap dance from a male escort service. Luke the second got a blow-up sex doll. Luke the first had gotten a hot air balloon ride, but he was afraid of heights. So far this looked like the pretty normal gift, but he was sure there was some twist somewhere. With frat birthdays you should always watch a gift horse in the mouth.

The man looked carefully at the card in his hands. “Ah, the all-inclusive personal styling and outfitting. You really should have called ahead of time to schedule a session.” Brock was intrigued by the contradictions of this barber’s, or whatever he was, hands, holding his gift card. Both arms were heavily tattooed, but on the left wrist was a fancy designer timepiece. “I’m normally over at the campus but had another thing downtown. How long does it take? Do I need to come back?”

The man looked up from the card. “It sort of depends on the wishes of the client, but we usually set aside two hours. I do have an opening right now, with the caveat that the next appointment might arrive at the end of the session, cutting it slightly short.” “Sure, I have time. What is it you do, though? Haircuts?” “We do that too, but we try to be your one-stop for all styling and grooming. As the name suggests we have a more European focus on the style. In particular a look known as Chav.” “Never heard of. Sounds French.” “It is British. Perhaps you have heard the related term Scally?” “Sounds Italian. Nope there too. I love European fashion though. In theory at least. I have a student budget.” “Well, perhaps we can get started and you’ll get a feel for what direction to go. In the all-inclusive package, besides all the grooming, one full outfit is included for you to take home. I’m Alexander by the way.” “Brock”

Brock had no idea what to expect. He didn’t know anything about British fashion trends. Kilts and tweeds would obviously be off the table. Otherwise his only reference was Rob, the exchange student from UK, who always wore too tight pants, sorry trousers. Was that British fashion? He followed the man into the back room.

The room was a surprise. Large and bright, with neutral furniture and muted, light colors. Lots of wardrobe doors along the walls, some furniture to sit on, and a room divider in one corner, presumably acting as a fitting room. “If you like European fashion, let’s start with the European brands”, said Alexander as he went to a wardrobe and pulled out one adidas top after the other, placing them on a rack.

There was a second of confusion for Brock when the contrast between his expectations and the class of the room clashed with the almost jarring display of streetwear. Of course his frat house hadn’t bought him a bespoke suit and tie. He’d expected a twist, then just when he thought this was a real birthday present: twist. But a new set of athletic clothes isn’t cheap, so he decided to engage fully. Let’s go all in with this style and let the house get the laughter they’ve paid for. Perhaps it would even look good on him.

Once past the disappointment, Brock found the whole experience interesting. He hadn’t really thought about the difference in relaxed clothes between different areas. Instead of his normal outfit of jerseys, baller shorts or cargo pants Alexander showed him a range of track tops and “joggers”. Together they placed a black T-shirt, adidas track top, unbranded grey sweats, and a pair of Nike shoes on a couch. As Brock grabbed it all to try it on, Alexander placed two plastic-wrapped bundles on top of the pile. One was a two-pack McKenzie briefs and the other was a 3-pack unbranded white socks.

“You want me to strip naked?” “It’s up to you, but we do offer a complete style.”

It wasn’t until behind the divider, with his khakis and shirt folded into a pile, that he made the decision. It felt weird stripping naked in the same room as another dude, although on the other side of the screen, but he reminded himself that he would use the gift card to the max. Off went his underwear, and he started putting all the new clothes on.

Looking at himself in the mirror it kind of felt different. Sure, it was just clothes, but how often do you replace everything. How often is everything you wear chosen by someone else? He had input on what items to take, but from a selection already decided for him.

“Well mint.” “Mint?” “It looks good on you. Let’s style the rest of you to match.”

They walked back out into the barber part and Brock sat down in one of the chairs. Alexander put a barber’s gown over Brock and started to prepare him for a haircut with a sanex strip around his neck. Brock had a quick thought about his clothes in the other room when Brock spoke again.

“There are a few different styles I would recommend for your look and face shape.” “Just pick whatever you think is best.” “Oh, OK. In that case we have an additional service we can provide while you relax, if you wish. It’s a kind of motivational attitude tape you can listen to. Completely complimentary, and optional, of course.” “Yeah, sure. I’m all in.” “Do you smoke?” “What?” “We have different tapes depending on your preference.” “Yeah, now that it’s legal I light up occasionally.” “Very well. Put these in.”

Alexander opened a small box with some wireless in-ear headphones, put on some disposable rubber covers and handed them to Brock. While Brock fiddled with getting them into place, Alexander brought a cup of tea and a small plate with what looked like a piece of single chewing gum.

“Just drink the tea and then start chewing on the chewing gum, and I’ll get started.” Alexander said, and started tapping on a cellphone. The earpieces started to stream a constant, but not very loud hiss. Brock wasn’t used to tea, but this one was alright. Bitter, sweet, and a hint of lemon. Alexander started to draw a line around his skull with a clipper machine. Was he getting a bowl cut? If that is the price for a new set of clothes, so be it. He was getting really relaxed.

Brock jerked violently as he woke up, looking around confused to establish where he was. His eyes landed on an unfamiliar guy. “Good Morning again. Did you have a nice nap?” said someone standing next to him, and slowly he got his brain in gear. “Oi Alex!”.  Brock looked back at the unfamiliar guy in the mirror. If it wasn’t for the face, he saw nothing that would clue him in that it was him in the mirror. A fresh set of clothes and a fresh new haircut that somehow managed to look clean, athletic, trashy and aggressive, all at the same time. He was loving it. “Looking mint, mate!” he said, causing Alex to smile.

“I didn’t want to make any decisions for you while you were relaxing. Would you care for a nick or two in the brow?” “Hot looking, innit. Go for it, mate.” Alex took a small clipper and quickly made two slits in Brock’s left eyebrow with his steady hand. There was a piece of stale chewing gum in Brock’s mouth that bothered him. He felt he needed something, but this gum had given all it could. Discretely he took it out when Alex looked away, and stuck it under one of the chair’s armrests.

“Finally, we do have some time for ear piercings if you want.” “Sounds epic, mate.” While Alex went to pick up the piercing gun, Brock grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the desk in front of him, pulled out a fag, and put it in his mouth. Even though it wasn’t lit, it felt so much better to have something in the mouth. “I have these healing studs that look pretty good.” Alex held out a pair of cut glass studs. “You can switch them out for something fancier once healed in 6 weeks, if you want.” “Those are well nice. Fucking mint, innit.”

As Alex cleaned, pierced and finished with his ears, Brock considered what he saw in the mirror. If any of the wankers at the frat gave attitude he would kick them in the teeth. This was mint as fuck. If only he was allowed to light his fucking fag.

[immortalled]

Some highlights and trivia from the Misfits series 1 scripts that no one asked for (extremely long post ahead):

Episode 1

- Jeremy feels somewhat more manipulative and selfish. It’s nothing new that he’s the reason Louise kicked Nathan out, but there’s a deleted scene where he comes in immediately after Louise has booted Nathan, Louise is crying, and he just tells her “You’re doing the right thing. We need this.” And I dunno. I get it, but somehow seeing it just makes the whole situation feel scummier. I could be biased.

- After getting her powers and losing her fiancé, Kelly cries all night. Again, no surprise, but it hurts getting confirmation. :(

Episode 2

- The old woman Nathan pushes in a wheelchair does in fact roll out the door when he lets go. RIP Joan. Some say that if you listen carefully, you can hear her still rollin’ to this day.

- The old “SHE’S STEALING YOUR PENSION” war vet is named Stan. Stan has some serious PTSD. Please protect Stan.

- Alisha thinks Sally is lesbian. 

- Simon’s wardrobe is inspired by Joy Division’s Ian Curtis. I’ve never seen Curtis dance, but apparently Rheon incorporated some of Curtis’ dance moves into Simon’s character.

- There’s a deleted scene where the gang finds Nathan in the community centre, staring sadly at a photo of Ruth which has been put up in her memory. Robert really keeps playing the same characters, doesn’t he?

Episode 3

- When Kelly and Jodi are fighting, Socha accidentally headbutts Mojekwu for real. Whoops.

Episode 4

- The athletic segments are filmed at the Crystal Palace Athletics Stadium. 

- In a deleted scene, Kelly calls Simon a “good-looking bloke” and tells him he should get a girlfriend. She also says that “loads of girls like sweet, quiet guys”. Simon is touched by this and immediately asks if she’s single.

- Nathan was only supposed to kiss the bowling ball. Of course Sheehan had to be weird and lick it instead. Disgusting.

- Simon’s jerk friend, Matt, sounds a little less like a jerk in the script. He’s actually guilty and feels more sympathetic. Doesn’t make him embarrassing Simon in front of everyone any better, though. 

- The original plan was for Simon to turn against the main cast and evolve into a supervillain by the end of season 1, which is one reason why Simon is so horribly creepy in S1 (namely perving on the girls). 

- Confirmation that Simon is excited by vulnerable / unconscious girls. #yikes

- Nathan’s dad, Mike, is named “Gareth” in the script. “Gareth” canonically thinks Nathan is an “inconvenience”. 

- Tony’s surname was originally “Warren” instead of “Morecombe”.

Episode 5

- There’s a note in the script that says “Curtis’ rap during his self-assessment therapy with Sally is the only improvised dialogue in the whole of Series 1“ and I’m not entirely sure, but I think that’s probably a typo. Either we missed out on Curtis’ special hidden talent for rapping, or that should say “Nathan” and Sheehan adlibbed the Ruff In The Jungle Business. I think the latter is more likely. 

- Sally tells Simon in a deleted scene that she was teased as a child for being fat. 

- Simon, while talking to Sally at the pub about trying to burn Matt’s house down, has a wave of guilt about peeking up Kelly’s skirt outside the club in the last episode. 

- Confirmation that Sally begins to have genuine feelings of attraction toward Simon. #yikes yikes

- The scene with Nathan picking up the baby took over half a day to shoot because the babies kept crying.

- Kelly originally snaps Nathan out of Finn’s hypnotism by pushing herself into his thoughts. Which I think is fascinating because I don’t remember her telepathically communicating with characters before.

- The BMX footage that Simon shows Sally is supposed to be Superhoodie. Hello, plot-holes and paradoxes.

- In a deleted scene, Nathan says he’s jealous that Kelly has “two powers”; being able to hear other people’s thoughts and talk to people telepathically. Seriously sad that this ability was removed in the final cut.

- In another deleted scene, Simon suggests that maybe their powers are changing. Kelly seems to agree. Rachel and a lot of Virtue symbolism also appear early; the gang unknowingly disrespect Rachel by sloshing water on one of her Virtue banners and walking over/on it as they pass.

- Yikes. Deleted scene that alludes to Nathan’s possible alcohol problem with a shot of the community centre’s kitchen and all the empty bottles. 

- In another deleted scene, after Kelly questions Nathan about his dad, Nathan complains (revealingly) about Kelly getting in his head. Things get a little flirty, Kelly teases him and serves potato letters with the chicken nuggets. She spells “PRICK” out on Nathan’s plate. It’s really cute.

- Not only was Simon supposed to be the supervillain, but he was supposed to die at the end of season 1.

Episode 6

- “Virtue” was originally called “Respect”, but had to be changed because a political party used the same name. 

- The girl in the opening scene, the one Alisha knew from school, is Ellie. Presumably the same Ellie Alisha mentions in episode 1. 

- The two other Virtue members that pass the gang are named Danny and Lucy.

- This deleted scene was too good not to write out. Simon, Kelly, and Nathan are discussing how to solve their Virtue problem and save Curtis and Alisha:

NATHAN relents, thinks a moment, has an idea...

NATHAN: Okay. How about we spike them?

KELLY’s exasperated.

NATHAN: We get them off their tits on acid. They’re hallucinating so bad they puke. When they come down, maybe they’re back to normal.

SIMON: D’you think that’ll work...?

NATHAN: Hands up who has a better idea.

Neither SIMON nor KELLY put their hand up. 

NATHAN: Then I’ll call my dealer...

NATHAN whips out his phone.

Cutting to a character that was revealed in another deleted scene that I didn’t list, Chewy. Massive stoner, surrounded by a variety of pills, yada yada. Chewy’s phone rings, he answers.

NATHAN: Chewy? It’s Nathan. Can you sort us out with some trips?

CHEWY: I don’t deal drugs any more.

We now see that CHEWY is using his other hand to comb his previously unruly hair into a neat side parting, which looks utterly ridiculous...

CHEWY: Nathan, mate. I’m telling you, drugs are bad news.They lead to a life of crime, mental illness and prostitution. 

NATHAN’s horrified by the response. He quickly ends the call, looks at KELLY, who can see there’s something badly wrong...

NATHAN: (appalled) They’ve got to him... Chewy... That boy’s been stoned every day since he was twelve. (angry, jabbing a finger) She’s gone too far this time. She has crossed the line.

- When Simon and Nathan are being surrounded by Virtue, Simon was supposed to punch Nathan instead of push him away.

- In the original script, when Simon was supposed to be evil, he kicked Nathan to the ground then battered him bloody with a baseball bat. In the storyboards, it looks like Simon intends to kill him. Nathan barely manages to escape thanks to Simon being interrupted by Virtue. 

- Superhoodie was originally introduced in a series of short online films recorded by Simon.

- In a deleted scene, Nathan takes refuge from Virtue in a place called Bar X. The scene was meant to be set up as a reference to The Shining. It’s empty. Nathan gets drunk and starts to reminisce with the bartender, James, about underage drinking, pulling girls, and how many times he’s gotten sick in the toilets there. There’s some odd tension in this scene between Nathan and James and I’m not sure what it is, but it’s amusing. 

- Nathan’s scene with Kelly in her flat is longer. There were some funny lines about her track suit and a lot more awkward fumbling as he tries to compliment the chav look. 

- There was supposed to be a Vegas Baby-esque montage of Nathan “arming” himself and getting dressed to infiltrate Virtue. We were ROBBED. 

- Kelly was supposed to stroke Nathan’s hand affectionately after putting his iPod in the coffin with him. R O B B E D .

- The graveyard scenes were filmed at Kensal Green Cemertary.

- Many of the people in the club after the funeral are Virtue members. 

#misfits #misfits tv #nathan young #kelly bailey #simon bellamy #alisha daniels #curtis donovan #scripts #out of immortality [ooc]; #[reference placeholder];

[luststricken]

robert and aaron go on a date and when robert sees what aarons wearing he calls him a peng ting

i’m actually crying! “wagwan piffting bae”

#i need to stop #my southern is showing #more like my chav is showing #anonymous #rob n grime

[itsevanffs]

WIP Game

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!

Tagged by: @goldenzingy46 @duplicitywrites and @ellionne at the time of posting this

Amanda, darling, you thought you had many? oh, my dear, you have seen nothing. But alas, I’ll limit myself to the ones I’ve been working on that still interest me so I won’t have to cut it off so I don’t clutter your page, dearests. Or will I? We’ll see.

In The Dark (hamlet fic)

The Mark Upon My Heart

Cam and Get Me, Won’t You Honey

Rage, Rage

abo incest luv (temp)

Dark Livestream fic-of-fic

Grave robbing lads

Oedipus Complex fic (temp)

Storm&Silence Tomarry crossover

Doll fic (temp)

Romeo and Juliet fic (temp)

The Darker The Weather (The Better The Man)

Vespertine 6-10

Tom is a chav (temp)

incest fic 20 (temp)

untitled document

untitled document

monastery fic 1 (temp)

monastery fic 2 (temp)

You Cried Below My Windowpane

I think I’ll leave it off here. The (temp) behind some titles means that the title is temporary and will be replaced with something coherent once I find something I like that suits the story. Feel free to inquire after literally anything, I’m open-minded as you can maybe tell.

Tagging: @alfiisha @wulcanbiology @neurowriter14 @thong-tom @moonlight-modoki @tomarryherewewhoaagain @skitter-kitteruwu @upside-down-circles

(trying to tag you who have not tagged me and who i am sort of confident have yet to be tagged)

#wip game #asks #send me asks #i'm lonely #bls engage #<3 #i've been meaning to ramble about wips but now i have a valid excuse >:D

[misskittysmagicportal]

Do you see Rob's accent as hard to understand? I read so many YT comments saying that, but I think his Irish accent is so easy to understand? I have so much trouble to understand Nidge for example. Or most of the British heavy accents like Kelly had. But Rob is so easy to understand.

The only time I kind of thought he was hard to understand WAS on Love/Hate! He's so mostly soft-spoken. Languid really.. like slow and relaxed. I don't know how people can not get it!

And yes! Derby accents like Lauren Socha and Jack o' Connell have can be rough. Quite literally. Billie Piper can be hard to understand too when she's really excited. Chav accents or Cockney.

[quickteleport]

light yagami needs to be beaten and robbed by a group of chavs

#phoenix speaks

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

1) sony monitoring the fandom: I believe that they've got interns reading the Larry fics before constructing Holo imagine. Immediately after the hiatus larries were the biggest fandom. Zayn took a chunk of em. Niall & Liam were considered one d. Larry was at the prime because mitam promo looked like seeding for a Larry coming out. Harry was seen with jeff since 2014 and if z left after having a fallout with H when he knew about holo then every management and PR was already aware of larries.

[[MORE]]

2) so they had to police the fandom which is not that uncommon from a business pov. I recently had to spend 2 months at home doing nothing so I did some research. here's what I came up with. young& beautiful fic - describes h's clothes/accessories/interests in a exclusive vintage way. Look at all the suits during holo start - red checked, black designer suit with res lace tops, yellow suits - they dangerously match the y&b description. We loved it eventually gucci campaign vintage Harry happened

3) Louis' character: fics with most hits 100k+ mostly had a Louis of this kind - rough, cheating, used to be a bully. OR if Harry does this Louis is so forgiving & supportive, sacrificing, being dangerously selfless. H is selfish mind you but it's just a fic & we loved happy endings. Look at the irl events - L accepted fake baby to protect H. L beards didn't benefit him then & now while h benefits from all of his beards even now. Airport incident - H smiling at another one & rob stringer lunch-

4) -he's distracting us from the bad. L in Jamaica, tours - supportive. all the Larry receipts - doesn't know Louis because they're in LA, h has loads of business friends & L doesn't like all that cuz L is a lad, chav, donny obviously he has 0 industry friends. We accepted it all. HS2 had extra severe policing with the help of fake accounts & AI. It's so easy to create a digital footprint - eroda.

5) hs2 song names- adore you, canyon moon - there are fics with the exact names and phrases/ lyrics written in 2017 (not popular though). Sunflower is literally what we call L. All the fics describe Louis' skin as golden. The present narrative twisting louis' words downplaying his desire for success - started in the larry blogs. At this point I won't even be surprised if some blogs were paid/bought out with NDAs - to create narratives.

6) to conclude- this entire idea is not crazy at all business wise in today's market. fandom policing is done especially by artists like Taylor who admitted to stalking the fanaccounts before choosing them for secret sessions. every Taylor fa believes they've got a chance to attend a secret session so they are constantly developing. every artist with a young fan base does what's appealing to their fans. I would applaud h's marketing &pr if Louis weren't the bait. (Yes I had a lot of time 😛)

—

Interesting thoughts.

What I said before about people’s desire to believe in Larry is linked to the fandom’s intense need to avoid bad endings, a need rooted in Larry fanfiction. Fanfiction might offer a collective, corrective desire to “right” the “wrongs” of the world by way of fantasy, but fandom’s demand for writers to tag “happy ending,” and the unpopularity of fics with unhappy endings, means that an unhappy ending is immediately associated with trauma. Fans begin to confuse fiction with reality. People avoid thinking about an unhappy ending in real life because everyone has been trained to feel triggered by it.

People begin to interpret “hate” toward the boys as any observation that could jeopardize a happy ending.

Then we end up doing the most amazing mental gymnastics so we can fit a “happy” narrative to very unhappy, unequal, unfair facts.

No doubt costume, words, mannerism all fit into a fandom narrative. The weirdest thing you mentioned is that HS2 lyrics may have been lifted from 2017 Larry fanfiction — is this real? If so, this is a degree of fandom monitoring and marketing optimization by Sony that borders on the... uh... fucking creepy (like the fake Euphoria blog interacting with real Larry blogs, many of whom were minors). Someday a psychologist will do a marketing analysis on Larry, and it’s gonna be fascinating.

#26 january 2020 #hl #larry #astroturfing #gaslighting #fandom monitoring #fake accounts #larry fics

[lopithecusfanfiction]

Take it All Away: Chapter One

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden Rating: Mature Word Count: 4548 Alternate: AO3 Summary: When Robert goes out to a club, he doesn’t expect what happens. He should have been more careful, should have paid more attention. Now his life is flipped upside down all because of one stupid mistake. Warnings:

Rape/Non-Con

Non-Consensual Drug Use

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD

Blackouts

Memory Loss

Implied/Referenced Self-Harm

Self-Harm

Panic Attacks

Other Additional Tags to Be Added (I will update this post when more are added)

Author’s Note: This is a “what happens if Robert is the one to get assaulted instead of Victoria” fic. I wrote this mainly because I wanted more hurt Robert (because I’m cruel and I like to see characters I love suffer.) I wasn’t planning on posting this until I was done with it but I wanted to post it before Ryan leaves the show and that is, unfortunately, coming up fast. I do have Chapter 2 and 3 done but that’s it. Updates will most likely be slow but I never abandon a story, so I’ve got that going for you. Also, my brother’s name is Aron so I’m not used to writing the name with two A’s (I actually often times forget that most people do spell it with two) so if you see at any time during the story I’ve spelt the name with one A, just let me know so I can fix it. This is my first fic in the Emmerdale fandom. I also live in America so I might get the slang they use on the show/things that are called differently here than in the UK, wrong. Hopefully I’ve obsessively watched the storyline enough times to pick up a few things, lol! I’m also not going to be able to remember to change the spelling of words that are spelt differently here than in the UK nor would I know all the words that are spelt differently (i.e. z vs s) so I’m probably going to just use the American spelling. I’m sorry if this bothers you. This is set around the time Robert, Aaron, Ellis, and Victoria go to that club except it doesn’t play out in this like it did on the show. Please enjoy!

Robert saunters down the stairs, fixing his tie around his neck. He can smell the toast Aaron has made and it makes his mouth water, stomach growling with hunger. Once at the bottom, he approaches Aaron and Liv, where they are sat at the kitchen table, eating cereal for breakfast.

“Good morning,” he says, leaning down to kiss the top of Aaron’s head. He sits down and takes a piece of toast, taking a big bite out of it.

“Mornin’,” Aaron replies, mouth full of food. Liv gives him a smile but says nothing.

“I have a bunch of meetings today and then I have that late dinner celebration I told you about with a few of the new investors,” Robert comments.

Aaron nods. “Yeah, I remember.”

“So you’ll be home extra late then?” Liv asks, getting up from the table and grabbing her school bag.

“Probably,” Robert answers.

“Well maybe, Aaron, you could have tea with Chas then.” Liv shrugs on her bag. “Then I can have Gabby over without my annoying older brother hovering over us the whole time.”

“Aren’t you going to be late for college?” Aaron quips, giving Liv a playful look.

Liv laughs. “I’m just saying.”

Robert watches the scene play out in front of him, his own smile of amusement on his face. He’s always loved seeing the playful banter between Aaron and his sister. It often reminds him of how he and Victoria are sometimes. There’s just something gratifying about picking on your younger sibling.

Liv says her goodbyes and leaves The Mill. Aaron watches after her, a wistful smile playing at his lips. “What?” Robert asks him.

Aaron takes a deep breath and finally goes back to eating his cereal. “I’m just glad to see she seems to be moving on from that whole Jacob stuff.” He slurps his cereal as he drinks the milk from the bowl.

Robert makes a face at the sound. “She’s a strong kid. She can get through almost anything.”

“Well, she does have the perfect role models when it comes to getting through tough times,” Aaron says with a small, playful smile.

Robert chuckles. “If you say so.” He stands then, leaning over to give Aaron another kiss on the top of his head, grabbing a couple pieces of toast on his way. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

*~~~*

Robert sits in a booth in the back of the Woolpack. He isn’t really looking forward to this dinner. He would rather be at home, curled up on the sofa with Aaron while they watch some corny film Liv picked out. He really hopes this doesn’t take long and comes up with a plan on how to make this whole thing go by as fast as possible while he waits. All he really has to do is eat a small meal while he schmoozes the guests of honor and buy them a few drinks. It should be easy.

That’s why Robert isn’t sure what to think when the children of the investors arrive instead of the men themselves. Two men and a woman who are probably about nine years younger than he is, approach him with wide smiles. He looks back at them in confusion, eyebrows knitting together. One of the men holds out his hand for a shake and Robert takes it. “Nice to meet you Mister Sugden-Dingle. I’m Lucas.”

The other man shakes Robert’s hand next. “Name’s Trevor.”

“And I’m Meghan,” the woman says, not offering her hand.

“Please, call me Robert.” Robert looks from one to the other. “Sorry, but I thought I was meeting-”

Lucas cuts him off. “Our fathers?” He chuckles. “Yeah, they thought we would have more fun instead.”

“But they’re the ones who made the deal,” Robert comments, incredulous. He’s starting to feel a little frustrated now. He didn’t come out tonight to entertain a bunch of young adults and if he’s being quite honest, it’s really unprofessional of the investors to send these three in place of them. “Sorry but,” Robert stands, “they really should have come out themselves.” He scoots out of the booth, grabbing his jacket. “It was nice meeting you but I think I’ll be off.”

“Woah, hold it.” Lucas steps in front of him. “We were promised a good time tonight; food, drink, the lot.” He smirks. “You wouldn’t want us to tell our dads that you skimped out on us, would ya?”

Robert isn’t sure what to say. He can’t lose these business deals, not if he wants the money from them. He and Aaron are trying to have a baby and they can’t do that if the new haulage company doesn’t work out. They’re desperate to make money, even if it means Robert has to entertain a bunch of children.

He sighs. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Lucas’ smile grows bigger. “Good! C’mon, let’s go.”

Robert stops them. “I thought we were only going to have a few drinks and some food?”

Trevor scoffs and looks around the Woolpack. “Not here.”

At that, the three of them turn and begin leaving the pub. Robert sighs again, heavier this time, and shakes his head, following behind.

*~~~*

Robert gets even more confused when the taxi pulls up next to a club. He gets out and turns to the group, asking, “Weren’t we just going to another pub or a bar?”

Meghan walks up to him and runs her hand over his shoulder. “And where’s the fun in that?”

Trevor smirks at him, wrapping an arm around Meghan’s middle. “Come on, Rob, lighten up a little. It’ll be fun.”

Robert bites his tongue, deciding that snapping at the little git wouldn’t do him any favors. Instead he says, “It’s Robert and this isn’t what I had in mind when I agreed to this.”

Trevor and Meghan laugh at him and start walking away to the queue while Lucas pats him on the back, leaving his hand at the nape of his neck. “It’s what our fathers want, Rob; for you to show us a good time and this is how it’s going to happen.”

He shrugs the man’s hand off. “I don’t really care what your fathers want. This is unprofessional to send you instead of coming themselves.” He looks the kid up and down in bewilderment. “I don’t really understand why they thought this would be okay.”

Lucas laughs, loud and obnoxious. “Because they’re too good for you, Rob. You’re some poor little pillock while our fathers are rich and powerful. Don’t you see, mate, they’re having fun at your expense.”

“They’re winding me up then?”

Lucas shrugs, walking away. “And the best part is, is you’re going to deal with it because you can’t lose this deal from what I’ve heard.”

Robert takes a deep breath in, trying to calm himself. This whole thing is ridiculous but he knows Lucas is right. He is going to deal with it. He has to. His and Aaron’s future depends on it. So with another quick, calming breath, he follows along and joins the queue at the entrance to the club. It’s quick moving, so it doesn’t take them long to get in, the three of his companions being ID’d. Robert heads straight for the bar and groans when he feels Trevor’s hand on his shoulder.

“You’re buying us all drinks, mate, and trust me, Meghan can put them back like you wouldn’t believe.” Trevor laughs and orders the three of them drinks. Robert pays reluctantly, glaring at them the whole time, and sighs in relief when they decide to leave him alone for a while to head out onto the dance floor, drinks in hand.

Robert turns back to the bartender and orders himself a beer, pulling out his mobile. He quickly navigates to Aaron’s name and starts typing out a text, wishing he could call him just to hear his voice which he knows will instantly calm him down, but the music is too loud to do such a thing.

To Aaron: sent 19:24

Save me

From Aaron: received 19:25

Sorry, can’t. Got Liv and Gabby drama to deal with. I’ll tell you later. What happened?

Robert sighs to himself again and begins explaining to Aaron what is going on. He finishes his beer by the time he’s done typing it all out and sending it, finding himself ordering another one. He tacks on one last message, wanting to get across just how irritated he is.

To Aaron: sent 19:36

It’s frustrating and unprofessional. They’re treating me as if I’m some chav who doesn’t know what he’s doing

From Aaron: received 19:37

I don’t get it, if it’s that bad then why don’t you just drop ‘em

To Aaron: sent 19:37

Because we need this money, Aaron. It’s for our baby

From Aaron: received 19:39

But is it really worth it?

To Aaron: sent 19:40

Yes it is. Anything is for our baby

From Aaron: received 19:41

Anything? Because we’ve been there before, Rob, and look where it’s gotten you

Robert rolls his eyes at that, annoyance building up in him for Aaron’s use of his past to have a go at him again.

To Aaron: sent 19:42

This isn’t like last time. This is legit

Robert can practically hear Aaron’s scoff as he waits for a reply.

From Aaron: received 19:42

Yeah okay. All I’m saying is don’t do too many things you’re uncomfortable with just for this

To Aaron: sent 19:43

I won’t. Promise

From Aaron: received 19:43

I’ve got to go. Try to have at least a little fun, yeah?

To Aaron: sent 19:43

Impossible without you

Robert smirks as he puts his phone back in his pocket, knowing Aaron scoffs again as he shakes his head, chuckling slightly at Robert’s comment. He turns around and leans against the bar, watching the crowd as they dance wildly to the music that is playing. He shakes his head in amusement. There are so many people that are willing to make fools of themselves once a little bit of drink is in them.

Within fifteen minutes, Robert is well and truly bored. He hasn’t left the bar and he finished his second beer ages ago. He debates getting another but he’s not really fancying the idea of getting plastered tonight so decides to forgo it. The problem is, now, he’s stood by the bar with nothing to do but people watching and he doesn’t even have anything to occupy his hands with. Robert scans the crowd for Trevor, Lucas, and Meghan and spots them in a frenzied dance, looking as if they are having a brilliant time.

Rubbing at his eyes, Robert turns back around to face the bar and orders another drink, relenting to the fact that he needs to do something to get through this night. He wonders how long he has to stay for it to be appropriate to leave, and figures he’ll probably have to buy his “mates” for the night a couple more rounds. As if in answer, Meghan comes up to him and leans in close to his ear, speaking loudly to be heard over the music, and hand snaking its way around his waist. “‘Nother round on you, aye?”

Robert nods with an eye roll and waits for the bartender to come his way before getting his attention. He orders them a couple more drinks, handing over a few more quid than necessary to pay for any future drinks they might get. She walks away with a flirtatious smirk and wink and Robert feels his face turn into a grimace before he can stop himself. Megan throws her head back and laughs, the sound lost in the noise of the music.

He’s stood there for another thirty minutes before he decides enough is enough. This whole night was a waste of time and he’s tired, agitated, and just wants to go home to Aaron where he can snuggle up next to him in bed. Robert sets his beer bottle down on the bar and pushes off it, ready to go tell Lucas that he’s leaving when someone bumps into him, spilling half their drink on his shirt. Robert has to bite his tongue to stop the retort that wants to come out, his mood becoming even more sour. He likes this shirt.

“So sorry, mate!” Robert looks up from his soaked shirt to a bloke who is about his age. The man reaches out to wipe at the liquid staining Robert’s shirt before realizing that he doesn’t actually have anything to wipe it up with. He pulls his hand back, frowning. “Shit, I didn’t see you there.”

Robert has to take a deep breath before speaking. “It’s alright.” He turns in the direction of the toilets.

“Oi, let me help you,” the man says, walking beside Robert.

Robert holds his hands out, dismissing him. “I’ve got it, thanks.”

“Look, it’s my fault. Just,” the man puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping Robert from walking away, “I want to help.”

Robert resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Fine.”

They both head into the toilets where the music quiets to a low thump, Robert’s ears ringing slightly. He grabs a handful of paper towels and starts to dab at his shirt. “You’ve got to get the towel wet first.” Robert’s eyes snap up to the mysterious bloke who spilled his drink on him.

“Look, I’m just trying to dry it. I was on my way home.”

“But you don’t want it to stain,” the man says as he grabs more paper towels and wets them under the tap. “Here.” He reaches over and starts to wipe at Robert’s shirt.

Robert stands there, not really knowing what to do. He can feel the heat beginning to crawl up his neck at the other man invading his space, getting uncomfortable at the proximity. The only person who isn’t blood related to him (besides Diane, of course, but she’s like blood) who has been this close to him recently is Aaron. He grabs a hold of the man’s hand. “I can do it.”

The man shrugs, taking a step back and handing over the paper towel. “Suit yourself.”

Robert eyes him before looking back down at his shirt. It couldn’t have just been a beer that was spilt on him. No, it had to be some fancy, colorful drink that is surely going to leave a blotch of red on his shirt. He sighs in defeat, throwing the paper towel in the bin. “It’s no use.” When Robert looks back up, the man is biting his bottom lip and Robert has to roll his eyes at the sight. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Well, at least let me buy you a drink to make up for it.”

Robert’s shaking his head before the bloke even finishes his sentence. “No need. I was going home.”

“Just one drink.” The man is smiling at him.

“I’m married,” Robert says, pointedly.

The man chuckles. “I noticed, I saw the ring.” His smile grows, playful like. “Come on, it’s a harmless drink. Just to say sorry.”

Robert stares at him, debating. One drink won’t hurt, will it? It’ll please this man and it’ll give his shirt a little time to dry before going home. Sure he’ll still smell like a boozer but at least he won’t have to ride home in a taxi with a sopping wet shirt. “Alright, go on then.”

The man’s smile grows impossibly wide and he leads the way back out into the club. They push their way over to the bar where Robert leans down on it, arms crossed, and waiting for the bartender to make his way to them. “Name’s Theo.” The man, Theo , says, leaning a little closer to be heard.

Robert gives him a nod in acknowledgement. “Robert.”

Theo purses his lips, nods in approval, and turns back to the bar, the bartender asking for their order. Theo orders for the both of them and Robert quirks one of his eyebrows in question. “What?”

Robert shakes his head. “Nothin’. Just don’t want one of those fancy drinks.”

“You mean the ones with lots of colors and weird names?” Theo teases, laughing at him. “Don’t worry, it’s not.”

They don’t have to wait long before Robert spots the bartender coming over with their drinks. He’s about to reach out for his when he hears his name being called. He’s never rolled his eyes so many times in one night. Turning around, he faces Lucas who is perfectly bladdered. “Mate!” He wraps an arm around Robert’s shoulders, leaning into him. Robert suspects if he moved, Lucas would collapse to the floor by how much he was holding himself up on him. “We thought you had left.”

“Yeah, mate , I was just having one more drink then leaving.” Robert tries to push him off but he holds on firmly.

“You haven’t danced with us yet,” Lucas slurs, resting his head on Robert’s shoulder.

Robert groans in annoyance, pushing harder. Lucas stumbles back off him. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

Lucas waves him off, sticking his tongue out at Robert, and Robert stares after him in uncontained disbelief. “Friends of yours?”

Robert turns back to Theo who is holding out his drink. It’s some blue liquid with one of those mini umbrellas in it and an olive, all contained in a cocktail glass. Robert hesitantly grabs for it, frowning. “No, thank God. I was just someone who could pay out on their drinks.”

Theo chuckles. “Then it’s a good thing I bought you yours.”

Robert’s eyes travel back down to his drink. “What in hell is it?”

“Just try it,” Theo says, smile playing at his mouth in amusement. “If you don’t like it then I’ll buy you a beer instead.”

“Didn’t I tell you I was going home?” Robert brings the glass to his lips.

He doesn’t miss the way Theo’s eyes travel the length of his body. “You did and that you’re also married.”

Robert licks his lips. “I don’t cheat.”

“I never asked you too.” Theo gives him a quick nod, directed at the glass still by Robert’s mouth. “Drink.”

Robert shakes his head and sips at the liquid, swallowing thoughtfully. He gives it a second, dragging it out just to annoy Theo who looks at him expectantly. Finally, he shrugs. “It’s not bad.”

Theo nudges him. “See, I told you you’d like it.” The man takes a sip from his own drink, another one of those colorful ones.

“This,” Robert gestures between the two of them, “me drinking this thing, stays between us, yeah?”

“Mate, I’m probably never going to see you again after tonight. Your secret is safe.”

Robert huffs, shaking his head, and drinking more of the blue liquid. Theo watches him from the corners of his eyes, smiling flirtatiously at Robert every once in a while. By the time Robert is done with the whole thing, he’s a little more than just tipsy. He carefully sets the glass down with shaking hands. “How… how much alcohol was in that thing?” Theo shrugs and Robert frowns at him.

“You alright, mate?” Theo asks him, hand landing on Robert’s shoulder.

Robert almost falls to the ground, losing his balance as the room starts to spin. “I…”

He hears Theo laugh beside him, the sound almost distant. “You’re completely pissed.” He puts one of Robert’s arms over his own shoulder, helping Robert keep balance. “Let me help you to a taxi.”

Robert stumbles along as the room continues to spin out of control, leaning onto Theo. His stomach is doing flips and he seriously starts to think he’s going to be sick all over himself when the next thing he knows, he’s in a taxi sat next to Theo. His eyebrows furrow in confusion as his body starts to relax into the seat. “Did I tell you where I live?”

Theo watches him but Robert can’t focus. “Of course, you did. That’s where we’re headed.”

Robert shakes his head, his movement feeling sluggish. “I don’t… I don’t remember telling you.”

When he blinks next, he’s in some kind of lobby, sitting in a chair. He looks around, confused, sweat covering his entire body as he shakes uncontrollably. He’s having a hard time focusing on things, his vision blurry and unfocused. Every once in a while the room will sway and it’ll make his stomach feel like it’s doing somersaults. Robert looks around the room for a bin he can be sick into just in case, but can’t find one.

Theo strides up next to him, lifts his arm, slinging it over his shoulder once more, and helping Robert out of the chair. “Come on.”

He’s cold, that’s why he’s shivering. He’s naked and he’s cold and where is he? Robert looks around again, limbs feeling heavy, and he’s in a room, a hotel room by the looks of it - he doesn’t remember how he got there - with Theo sitting on the edge of the bed, back towards him and fumbling with his… his trainers?

“Wasn’t I going home?” He’s confused. Robert meant to go home. Why is he here? Did Robert tell the taxi driver to bring them here? No, no Robert wouldn’t cheat on Aaron. Not again. Not ever again.

Right?

“Theo…”

Theo turns to him, pulling his shirt over his head. He leans over, kissing Robert softly. “Shh, it’s fine.”

Robert blinks and groans as his heart pounds in his ears. His head feels like there is a hammer inside of it and his body is sticky with sweat. He’s lying on his stomach and Robert groans, the light overhead making his eyes hurt. He tries to bury his face into the pillow but grimaces when his face is met with wetness and the stench of vomit. Turning his head back to the side, his eyes roam over the room. He was expecting to see his bedroom, Aaron next to him, but is confused when he sees unfamiliar wallpaper. Where the hell is he?

Swallowing, he makes to get up, arms feeling weak as he tries to push up. When he bends his right leg to get leverage, fiery hot pain shoots up from his back. He hisses and immediately lies back down, breathing hard. That’s when he realizes it doesn’t just feel like sweat that has made his body sticky. There’s another semi-dry substance on his back and between his cheeks. His stomach churns and Robert has to swallow multiple times to try and keep from being sick, something he has obviously already done but can’t remember doing so.

Did he really get drunk and bring a stranger to a hotel room? No… no, he only had a few drinks. Definitely not enough to get shit faced. No, something else… Theo, Theo had gotten him a drink. Did he get drunk from that one? He couldn’t have. It didn’t taste very strong and besides, he wouldn’t have slept with some random bloke. He doesn’t do that anymore. He knows he doesn’t. Then… then the only explanation is…

Robert groans again, feels the bile rise up his throat, and jumps out of bed to try and make it to the toilet in time. He doesn’t and he ends up vomiting on the floor, pain shooting throughout his entire body. His legs shake with the effort of keeping himself up, one hand supporting his weight on the nightstand. He can feel something dripping down the inside of his thighs and Robert really needs to get out of there.

Frantically, he searches the room for his clothes and when he finds them, he pulls them back on with great effort, trying to ignore the pain his body is in. When fully clothed, he stumbles out of the room and makes his way slowly to the front desk where he tries not to show his discomfort. “Hi, checking out.”

“Name?” the receptionist asks him.

Robert hesitates, not knowing what name Theo put the room under. “Uh, I don’t know what it’s under.”

The receptionist frowns at him and Robert feels his face grow hot in embarrassment. “What room number was it?”

Robert shakes his head. “I-I don’t know.”

Her frown grows more prominent. “Do you have the card key? I can’t check you out if-”

Robert’s stomach flips again. “Just never mind.” He pushes off the counter and heads to the front doors, ignoring the woman’s calls. They’ll just have to figure it out themselves.

When he exits the building, he isn’t expecting it to be pitch black out. Screwing up his eyebrows, he looks at the time on his watch and groans in dismay. It’s half past one in the morning. Aaron is going to be freaking out. Robert quickly gets a taxi and tells the driver where to go, wishing he would drive faster as Robert pulls out his mobile. He has a few texts from Aaron.

From Aaron: received 23:02

Where are you?

From Aaron: received 00:24

When I said to have fun, I didn’t mean stay out this late, Robert

From Aaron: received 01:13

If you think I’m waiting up for you any longer, then you’re wrong

Shit. How is he going to explain this to Aaron? When he said he was going to be home late earlier, he had meant ten maybe eleven at the latest. Not almost two in the morning. Aaron is going to kill him and then when he finds out why Robert was so late, he’s going to resurrect him just to kill him again . Robert has to come up with an excuse and it has to be one that Aaron will believe. Aaron can never know he cheated again.

No, wait, he didn’t cheat. He… he can’t remember but he knows he didn’t cheat. That’s right, he already came to that conclusion earlier in the hotel room. Robert lays his aching head on the window, getting confused again. No, Theo… Theo gave him a drink. That’s when he started to feel weird, after he had drank it. So something… the drink. The drink had something to do with what happened. He can’t remember.

With a pain filled moan, he rubs at his face tiredly. The taxi driver is saying something to him, something about getting out and paying him. Robert lifts his head and looks out the window, eyebrows furrowing. He can’t be home yet. He doesn’t even remember half the drive there.

The drink must not be entirely out of his system yet.

Whatever was in the drink must not be out of his system yet.

Robert struggles out of the taxi and pulls out his wallet and pays the taxi driver. He stumbles up the drive, to The Mill, and fumbles with the keys for almost two minutes before he finally gets his coordination correct to unlock the door. When he enters, everything is quiet and Aaron is nowhere in sight. Glancing at the stairs, he contemplates attempting to climb them but his legs are shaky again and the room is spinning once more.

He barely makes it to the sofa before he collapses on top of it and passes back out.

———————————————————————————————————–

A/N: I haven’t written in months and I feel like the beginning of this chapter shows it, but hopefully it got better as it went.

I have so many British Slang/words links saved that it’s ridiculous.

Also, yes, I know how unrealistic it is for investors to send their kids to the dinner celebration. That’s the wonderful thing about writing. I can have anything happen even though in reality it would probably never happen, lol!

Thank you for reading! I hope you stick around even though I know nothing about the UK and how you all talk. If you want to give me any pointers, please feel free. Am I using too much slang? Should I use arse instead of ass? Let me know! I’m always willing to learn. ^_^

#Emmerdale #Aaron Dingle #Robert Sugden #Robron #My Fanifction #Take it All Away

[anhed-nia]

SMILE PRETTY

This is not a good movie, and I can't stop thinking about it. It is barely competent, technically, and I'm not sufficiently confident that it sets the right tone in its discussion of its excruciatingly difficult subject. However, I can't seem to stop thinking about it, so I guess I have to record my feelings here, even though I am hesitant to force anyone else to think about this. Reader be warned.

[N.B. I literally gave myself a panic attack writing this. What started out as an intellectualizing assessment of a troubling film turned into a long, grueling, extremely detailed account of my full personal understanding of sexual abuse. If that sounds like it is going to cost you sleep, please do not proceed.

On a further note, in this piece, I often use the terms "victim" and "survivor" interchangeably. I understand the importance of being able to identify as a survivor, rather than wear the inappropriately subjugating and finalizing mantle of victim. In this case, it is necessary for me to use the term "victim" to differentiate between the ongoing "survivor" experience, and the immediate, contemporaneous experience of abuse.]

I blithely selected SMILE PRETTY, in total ignorance, on a streaming site, strictly because Scout Taylor-Compton is in it. She is so effective in Rob Zombie's fraught HALLOWEEN remakes that I felt compelled to watch this tacky-looking movie, even though I was turned off by the premise, about a child pornography survivor. ALSO, I just now looked up some information about SMILE PRETTY to prep for this review--I hadn't done so before, because the movie seemed too crude to have been made by anyone I would have heard of--and I was very alarmed to discovered that it was directed by Harry Bromley Davenport, who made all three XTRO movies. Now I'm even more bothered than before...

In SMILE PRETTY, Scout Taylor-Compton plays teenage Nastalia, better known as Nasty, the ongoing victim of a child porn operation run by her uncle, who has been perpetrating and recording her rape for most of her life. A glimmer of hope emerges when she has a chance encounter with Matt, a 20-something white knight who makes a big show of encouraging Nasty to escape her uncle, and rebuffing her ingrained seductive behavior. (played by Peter Chekvala, who looks just like a chav Paul Rudd to me, which should be funny, but it is impossible to experience anything like joy during this movie) Of course, it turns out that Matt actually knows Nasty well from her uncle's widely circulated output, and their meeting was no coincidence. A brief conflict resolves itself in a consummated sexual relationship, after Matt lays out his own sob story: He, too, was molested as a child, so therefore he can't help being a pedophile, and deserves Nasty's sympathy and support. Nasty thinks she has found love with someone who truly understands her, but soon enough, Matt starts using her to bring in younger sexual partners for the two of them--or just for him. Nasty finally becomes disillusioned with Matt when their latest third, 14 year old Samantha (the excellent Shannon Collis), becomes Matt's new primary partner. Realizing that Matt has lost interest because Nasty is approaching adulthood, she finally alerts the authorities and escapes this lifelong cycle of abuse.

As I mentioned, this is what I would ordinarily call "barely a movie". The video quality is crap, so is the sound, and I often found the general manner of filmmaking overly indulgent, as if the director might be telling this cautionary tale as a flimsy excuse for his own interest in young girls. It just seemed to have that grimy, tonally dissonant vibe. However, the performances by both women are roundly superb, and the screenplay by Rachel Calendar has a feeling of authenticity that I found impossible to ignore. The construction of Nasty's character is just too psychiatrically accurate--her sexual forwardness, which she literally cannot control due to her abusive upbringing, her relentless desire to impress and please older men (her partner's arousal is her only source of personal arousal, at whatever cost to herself), her valuation of herself only in terms of her sexual viability--all of these things are vividly articulated, and textbook perfect. The character of Matt is also unnervingly familiar from real life: A narcissistic and manipulative Abuser who wields his own Abused status as a shield, or even a weapon against anyone who rightly accuses him of malice, or tries to stand between him and the greedy indulgence of his slightest whim.

(Artist and survivor Florence Burnier-Bauer in MY TALK WITH FLORENCE)

More disturbing than all of this, is Calendar's unbearably frank discussion of an aspect of child abuse that is seldom addressed: That when an innocent person is induced into a victimizing sexual encounter, they still experience the pleasure that comes from the physical stimulus. Last year, I watched a documentary called MY TALK WITH FLORENCE, in which a victim of lifelong sexual abuse (beginning with her family, and ending with a powerful cult) speaks ferociously about the fallacy of rape as a purely painful experience. Her point is that if we believe that physical evidence of pleasure on the part of the victim means that their assault cannot be defined as rape, then we deprive huge numbers of survivors of their claims. She uses the example of male victims having involuntary, unwanted erections, a biological fact which is used to support the absurd notion that men and boys cannot be raped. Even more to the point, the word I used to describe the confusion of childhood abuse, "innocent", isn't a mandatory ingredient in this noxious emotional brew--even a violent attack will produce a physical reaction. The body can play cruel tricks like this to protect itself from being torn apart from force and friction. I have heard many times the phrase used by Alison Botha in the documentary ALISON, about her brutal rape, disembowelment, and near-decapitation by a pair of strangers: "My body betrayed me." In the case of SMILE PRETTY, there is an unfortunately unforgettable sequence in which Nasty, Samantha and Matt all reminisce about their experiences. They describe their own rapes with an almost gleeful defiance, proclaiming defensively that they each actually enjoyed their dehumanizing sexual initiation at the hands of predatory relatives and babysitters. It is painfully clear that they are trying to justify the shame of their involuntary physical pleasure, by pretending to own it. In the following scene, Samantha listens intently through the wall as Matt and Nasty have sex with more vigor than he has recently managed to summon; all of this detailed reminiscence has thrust the three survivors into a state of hypnotic arousal. Watching this, I was rudely reminded of a conversation I once had with a friend, who suddenly and matter-of-factly recounted an occasion on which an especially shitty college boyfriend raped her, just to conclude an argument. My friend stonily declared, "I didn't give a shit. I was fine." This may not be the same as trying to own the "pleasure" of being assaulted, but it had a similar aspect of trying to own the rape, of trying to reject victimhood by claiming to accept the traumatic event. Though I never forgot it, I try not to think about it. SMILE PRETTY made this impossible.

(Alison Botha in the strange and shattering documentary ALISON)

And here I am, days later, still thinking about this movie I may wish I had never seen. I'm not sure what I got out of it. I'm not sure what anyone would get out of it, who does not know intuitively or factually about these intimate realities of sexual abuse. I rarely feel that I would rather not have seen a movie--my usual philosophy is that as long as an experience moved you in some way, even a displeasurable way, then it was somehow worth the undertaking. In the case of SMILE PRETTY, my resolve may have been tested, and failed. The jury is still out.

#tw: abuse #tw: rape #tw: csa #tw: child abuse #tw: everything #smile pretty #harry bromley davenport #blogtober #Scout Taylor-Compton #shannon collis #my talk with florence #Florence Burnier-Bauer #alison botha #survivor #documentary #drama #rachel calendar

[joshslater]

James and Kieran

A story inspired by and with input from @wannabechav. Thanks to @scallylad89 for playing along.

James sat on bus 33, going in a loop, and stared at the envelope in his hand. He needed time to think what he really wanted to do. Up until now there had only been small changes, each easy to undo. But thinking about them, he had probably passed the point of no return months back, without even noticing. He guessed @scallylad89 had planned it like that from the start.

He first got in contact with @scallylad89 on tumblr, not long after his post about getting serious about becoming a chav. It did excite him, still does to a degree, but perhaps he hadn't given it proper thought. @scallylad89 had sent him a message, offering to become his personal chav coach. He would send small tasks and challenges, and James in turn would complete them best as he could and journal everything online. James had agreed enthusiastically.

The first step was obvious, to get chav clothes, but @scallylad89 had added some extra goals to it. James was instructed to purchase a complete new set of clothes, but for every piece of clothing he must find a photo of a chav wearing it. He could only buy at most two of all pieces, and only one pair of sneakers. Every purchase was reviewed by @scallylad89, though he agreed to everything. James published photos of the items after purchase, and some photos of him wearing them. He was instructed to always wear the outfit, outside of dress code events. Even though he spent most of his time at home, and in uniform for school, James was really enjoying his fantasy coming to life.

The second step @scallylad89 instructed was harder to conceal. James needed to get a haircut, and again could only select from what he could find in chav photos. In addition he was told to have two slits shaved in the eye brow from now on. Immediately he got a few comments and looks at school, but found the biggest change was outside of school. The demeanor of shop clerks and people he met somehow changed, and he would always feel observed, as if he was about to nick something. James found it exciting, and his fingers kept touching his eyebrow the entire week.

He was asked to come up with a chav name for himself, and right away James settled for Kieran. The instructions were to practice writing the name daily, and say "I am Kieran" out loud a few times before going to sleep. He should also update as many social network accounts as he dared with the new name and photo. He changed a few, but not all, conscious about what relatives would say.

Next he was told to spend as much time away from home as possible. When he and his mother moved out after the divorce she spent most of her time working, so him being out wasn't noticed and raised no questions. He even got a few specific assignments from @scallylad89. Sit outside a supermarket for 1 hour. Travel a bus line a full loop and step off where he stepped on. Walk past every building in his neighborhood. James became less and less self conscious, and diligently documented everything with selfies on his blog. To some degree he was playing a role. He had been instructed to present himself as Kieran, should anyone ask, and some chav did strike up a short conversation on a bus at one point. James probably would not have dared talk to him as "James", but as Kieran he was free.

He begun getting rid of the clothes he didn't use anymore. He kept the suit he had worn at his grandmothers funeral, but donated pretty much everything else to the Salvation Army. He had grown out of most of it anyway, but a few good jeans and shirts had to be sacrificed.

James was really hesitant with the next set of instructions though. He was required to purchase one pack of cigarettes and have a smoke once per day at the recess before lunch. Buying the pack was easy, but he bailed out on actually smoking. It wasn't until two days later he forced himself to join the other smokers outside the school building. A collection of cool kids and losers. Mostly losers. His mother started to worry and asked him if everything was alright. "Never been better", James answered, not lying for once.

When the pack was empty he was told to buy a new one and smoke before lunch and dinner. Once that pack was gone he was told to smoke one as soon after breakfast as possible as well, which meant on his way to school. He was surprised how quickly his social life had changed, now that he spoke to the smokers daily. He hadn't forged any deep friendships since moving here, so nothing really held him back. All of them knew him as Kieran.

James didn't hear anything from @scallylad89 for several weeks, and when he finally did get a message he was surprised by the assignment. He had apparently been enrolled in a football beginners group at a club at the other side of town. He didn't understand the point until he arrived two days later for first practice. All the other lads in the group looked like him. Hoodies, sweatshirts, trackies. Some where sharing a smoke. All of them, too, got to know him as Kieran. But more importantly James got to know himself as Kieran, as that's what they shouted at him when passing the ball.

Although practice was only once a week, he was spending more and more time in this part of town with his team mates. He was often invited to watch footie at Shanes or Conners flat. Conners place was more popular, as his big brother supplied them with beer.

He kept on journaling online, but got fewer and fewer assignments. After well over a month of silence @scallylad89 suddenly dumped a bunch of photos on his blog, with a made up story to string them together. A story where a school kid magically transforms into a chav in a few days, and end up giving blow jobs at a construction site. While Kieran didn't care for the story, he was amazed to see the images right next to each other. His diet of cigarettes and football practice had very visibly made him leaner and more muscular. But it was somehow deeper than that. It was like in the last photo he wasn't pretending to be a chav anymore. He was one.

Somehow the story had spread in school, and some of his class mates were giving him a hard time for it. Kieran could understand it from their point of view. They had all seen him transform into a chav, so of course they would think of all the details of the story as soon as they saw him, even if they didn't believe it. Rob, one of the other smokers, even offered up his dick for a blow job.

He thought that would be the last he heard from @scallylad89, but soon after he got an envelope in the mail. Inside it was an already filled out deed poll, ready to sign, and instructions on everything he needed to do to legally change his name to Kieran. As he sat on the bus, going back and forth between his home and his friends, he realized his life as James was over, no matter what he wanted.

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Part 1: Robert was baffled he couldn’t believe his mum had let in some strange chav on the run from god knows what stay with them all because she thought he’d changed. She’s said “people change Robert, you of all people know that. It wouldn’t be fair for me to judge this poor boy struggling against the world” His mum had always had such a big heart, Rob was just worried that she’d be heartbroken. Aaron seemed rough around the edges, snapped whenever Rob tried to talk to him.

You don’t need me to write this anon. You’re doing a brilliant job!

I love it so much!