#but all my tom friends are either into mash or aware of it because of us

[saltyfilmmajor]

Again I’m pointing out the venn diagram of Mash fans and tom Cruise fans is a circle

[muggycuphead]

weird flex but ok i guess pt.19

18

War… Hold up, do we really need a warning for this one? Dunno, but however, watch out for slightly disturbing and kinda…disgusting imagery, trypophobic patterns, as well as ‘necrotic’ designs I made while having funky fever bc o h m y g o d do I get a little crazier every new quarantine day (and at this point it’s coming to be an usual thing for me, big sad). However, most are made no other than for the sole sake of satire, so y’know, no need to get your underwear in a twist

Friday Night Funkin’ BoyFriend’s Hood – AU fanconcept sketches [XVIII]

EDIT 26/10/2023: Updated the drawing with a rescanned, more clean version

Hooray for plot rewriting

So, remember when I mentioned BF’sH came to be subdivided in 2 -then 3 arcs? Well, allow me to resume them like this:

I. Past present

-BF’s backstory in NG city + how he and GF knew each other, going from ‘neighbours’ to friend, and from friends to downstraight lovers (the Pico related events are also there, but I wrote them down a little differently than canonically stated by either Tom Fulp or Ninjamuffin)

II. Future present

-All the things that happened after FNF’s main events (mods). Some events remain the same; others are put in a different light, and so on. This was also meant to be BF’sH original story plot (y’know, when he comes back to the hood and shit) the one that’d take this arc, but after rewriting the stuff, I moved most of it to the third one instead

III. Hollow present

-Basically the same storyline of BF’sH, but now the Past Present and Future Present mash up protagonist-wise. Plus, BF’s family got kidnapped by the same people that fucked the hood up (Stephano and his gang), and some characters gather self-awareness and paradox deja vú (can’t describe exactly the feeling my brain hurts) referring to the events from OG BF’sH, which some of them were actually ‘corrupted’ or just not happening as they were thought in the start

And BF also finds out he’s not actually…well, the real BF, but an alternative instead (existencial crisis when)

…It’s a lot on this one, and I don’t know if I’ll make it as clear as possible through the sketchdump format, but yeah, shit’s flippin on this side of the fence

Let’s just get this one done with (for now)

1.-Distraught Miss G / Past!GF

The moment you realize the world is falling apart, your closest friend is basically dying and there isn’t much you can do about it

Honestly, I’d be just as upset if I was her in that situation

2.-||Sicken|| Lil B / Past!BF

Pulling some heartstrings right there

Jokes aside, his sickness is mostly a collateral damage done by not only the timelines’ mash, but also the alternative universe’s slow but perceptible inner collapsing

Still, someone call 911 on that child already he’s literally about to d I E -

3.-Destiny Bond BF

Going under the logic of past-self-future-self: Anything that happens to Lil B (later nicked Minor B) will reflect towards BF (later nicked Major B) and same with GF (later nicked High G) and Miss G (later nicked Low G)

So yeah, you can tell what’s up over here by the context situation

4.-WHAT THE FUCK-

Ew

Yeah, that’s…that was the stuff that got inside poor Minor B

…Oof

5.-GF and Lil B / Past!BF

Aa- they so cute

I stand for Motherly instinct GF y’all

6.-BF and Miss G / Past!GF

To resume what they’re talking about: She’s basically telling BF what I just mentioned here and –possibly- my first post about this AT/AU, and some cold buckets do get thrown during that convo, especially over BF

7.- Lil B’s / Past!BF’s drawings

Child drawings

okay

8.- Lil B / Past!BF icon revamped

Why?

Because why not

9.- Sleepy boi

Boy went Zzzzz but it’s the smol version instead

20

[ieryana]

Dinner with Christians

*** Disclaimer *** - this is tongue in cheek fun. If you take it seriously and get triggered because bew hew you know a Christians then tough shit frankly. Enjoy! ________________________________________________________________

  "Fun as in 'naked twister' fun?" he quipped, slightly too hopefully. Felicity shot him one of her narrow-eyed, ‘you better behave’ sort of looks and squeezed his arm. "It's just that I went to a party once and it was full of forty-something swingers and-" "Oh you did not," She admonished with a flap of her hand that signalled that she didn't believe him and that the subject was dead. "Besides," she added, almost as an afterthought, "they're good Christian people, they wouldn't be into anything like that." "They're what?" A look of horror flew across Max’s face. Last time he’d encountered Christians en masse was his Christening, and he’d slept through that. "Flick!  Daaahling! Happy New Year!" A horribly ‘faux posh’ voice echoed from the porch. "Tom, Helen, how are you both, awww!"  Felicity gushed, hugging her hosts and flashing air kisses that missed by miles.  It was at that moment that the girl that was once Felicity Harbour changed….in a way Max hoped he would never see again. The transformation was devastating, dramatic and swift.  In that moment, she had become the entity known as Flick. Max stood in the doorway and juggled the beer, a resigned but somehow desperate expression on his face.  What had just happened?  It was only seven pm and he already wished the night was over. As he walked into the predictably magnolia and laminate hallway he spared a thought for the lads in the King's Arms, drinking, celebrating, happy, and single.  Happy New Year indeed. From inside, the stomach-churning soprano 'Walking in the Air' began to filter through into the hallway and he knew that with certainty it wouldn't be long before Cliff made an appearance too. Tom and Helen were pretty as boring as the house.  Helen was slightly overweight and dowdy. Straight mousy hair framed a chubby face and she was dressed in a shapeless floral dress.  Tom was the sort of guy you would want to beat savagely and, were it not for the fact that it would be something like kicking a puppy, you feared that you would.  Sporting a pair of tortoise shell rimmed glasses and a drab loose knit sweater; he’d also adopted a magnificent eye twitch that Max found compelling.  Tom would use words like 'cathartic' and 'holistic' a lot and pronounced the word beautiful as 'buuudafull’. Max ground his teeth together and tried to smile.            "So Maximillian nice to finally meet you, how aaaare you?  We heard you've been mentally ill is that right?"  Tom said all in one breathe.            Maximillian? Against his better judgement, he shifted the bitter into the crook of his arm and grasped Tom's limp, slightly damp hand, pumping it in greeting whilst brandishing a vaguely threatening fake grin.  "No, no it was a week off work for compassionate reasons, some work rela-"            "Super!  Well, this is my wife Helen…"  Tom cut in with a disarming smile and a sweep of his hand.             Feeling more than very put out, Max braced himself as Helen approached him for a double air kiss and he was horrified to note a wispy, grey moustache lying in wait across her top lip.  She smelled faintly of Yardley’s English Lavender, and that was no great surprise either.  Helen also had this irritating habit of talking to you through either closed or wildly fluttering eyelids, it made him wonder whether half way through a conversation he could nip away and come back without being noticed.  "Soooo gooooood to seeee yooooou," she whined.            Tom and Helen invited them into an untidy living room and introduced them to the others: Jed and Hannah, Campbell and his friend Philip, and Camilla. "Guys, this is Maximillian, Flick's beau – he's recently been mentally ill," Tom was saying, nodding sagely, "So let’s hope he finds tonight's diverse social integration… cathartic." Max raised a hand in salute. "Well, I wasn't strictly ill, but hello."  Something told him that the five pints of John Smith's he'd downed before meeting Flick and friends wouldn't be enough.  He then noticed Jed was wearing sandals with Argyll socks and briefly flirted with the idea of running away – quickly.            Dinner was a bland vegetarian affair that Helen had managed to become tearful over when she discovered that she had burned the crust of the leak and leak pie.  The potatoes were more than slightly underdone and the onion gravy watery beyond compare, although the Swede and carrot mash was passable.  She seemed heartened by the fact that her eye-watering, sugar-free rhubarb and gooseberry compote was edible, or at least that was the suggestion that everyone had given her by doggedly finishing their bowls.   "I think I've just developed a stomach ulcer," Max whispered to Flick, who shushed him tetchily.            "Matchmakers and coffee?" offered Tom, as if it was the height of sophistication.            "I'll stick with the beer, thanks."  Max pointed to his fast depleting stock.  The group had barely managed to empty three bottles of predictably cheap wine over dinner. He cracked open another can and tried to get comfortable on the lumpy sofa. "So," Jed was saying, his legs crossed and his hands constructing a pyramid at his chest, "Hannah and I met Campbell whilst on sabbatical in Bratislava in 1999…"            "Yea yea, Bratislava’s an awesome country”; Campbell interjected as if anyone was interested in his point.           Max rolled his eyes, but thought again about speaking out, leaving the group to embarrass themselves.            "Well, it's funny," Campbell continued in his soft, whiney Scottish accent and patted his 'friends' arm, "because Philip and I met during his gap year in Burundi." "Yes I was working with Médecins Sans Frontières as a volunteer nurse."  Philip added with a self-satisfied smile.            "Oh that's riiiight," gushed Helen.  "I heard that you had done a lot of good work in the Third World."            "I now do some volunteer work with special needs, but not as much as I'd like to" Philip continued, "in fact I'm a dedicated helper in the community for a great person called Ben Calloe."            “Wonky Ben?"  Max said.            The front room fell silent.  To look at their faces so aghast, one would have thought that he had just dropped his pants.  "What?  Wonky Ben, gammy leg, he comes in the pub."            "He's got cerebral palsy, Max," Philip said with the measured patience of somebody trying to break some really bad news.            "Yeah but you want to try and race lad, he's pretty quick after a few rum and cokes I can tell you."            "You feed him alcohol?"  Campbell seemed genuinely horrified.            Max shrugged.  "He's a bloke not a gerbil. Why shouldn’t he enjoy a drink or two, he’s still a person".  He was vaguely aware of Flick tugging urgently at his sleeve.  "What, you've never raced a drunken spazz?"            "We don't refer to them as 'spastic' anymore."  Hannah said gently.            "Anyway…" Tom intervened.  "Campbell, you were saying about Burundi…"            Max's eyes darted incredulously from speaker to speaker, what irritated him more than the inane anecdotes of who met whom and during what Hutu uprising, was the fact that Camilla simply nodded in agreement to every statement and mmm-mmm'd her approval.  This further cemented Max's theory that she had nothing to add to any conversation.  Anywhere.  Ever.            Max sighed and cracked open another can. "So Maxi, did your faith helped you through your period of mental illness?" Tom said, some time later, turning his attention across the table.            "Sorry, what?" Max jumped awake from the semi-doze he’d fallen into            "Your faith, was it a crutch?"  Helen asked.  "I found that my faith brought me through my darker moments when I was diagnosed with uterine polyps."            "Mmm, yah, polyps."  Camilla nodded seriously, shooting Helen a tight lipped look of unswerving support and female camaraderie.            "Er, no, I'm not a big church goer to be honest."  Or at all, but he wasn’t going to admit that.            "Awww."  The group crooned in an 'oh you poor, silly, ignorant little man' fashion.            He noted that Flick looked suitably embarrassed and could not help but feel a little crow of jubilation inside him.            "You really should consider taking Christ into your life."  Hannah said.            "Mmm-mmm, yah.  Christ our Lord."  Camilla spouted and actually held up a hand in some sort of 'hey Jesus, here I am,' wave.            Max drew a patient breath and forced a smile. "No, thanks all the same.  I'm happy with my lot and it's not really for me, but cheers."            "Don't worry; I'm sure you will regain your faith with Flick's help, she is such a strong woman."  Helen sympathised.  "You will find that it was the glory of the Lord that drew you out of your mental illness."            "Oh, I'm not so sure!"  Max replied smoothly.            They all looked at him in earnest.  "Yes Max… it was. They nodded as one. "Oh yes, Jesus loves you.  He loves us all."  Hannah intoned. This was getting a little creepy, and Max edged his way along the sofa.            "Doesn't seem to love wonky Ben that much does he now," Max replied sourly.            "Ah, don't worry, the Lord has His own plan for Ben. His physical illness is part of god’s plan, as was your mental illness."         Max slammed his hand down on the nearby table causing everyone to jump and sending John Smiths tins scattering.  Camilla stopped mmm-mmming all of a sudden and looked petrified. He stood up and stared at them all. "Look, I'm not mentally ill.  I never have been; I had a week's leave of absence after some work related stresses and my mum dying.  And before you say it, no, she's hasn't 'crossed over' or 'become spirit' or whatever it is you nut-jobs think and she's not 'in a better place'. She's in a box, in the ground, in Highgate cemetery.  Oh and in case you were wondering, I don't want to join your blasted Christian polyp support group or whatever it is.  I have been listening to you lot for the past four hours and you have yet to say anything remotely constructive or interesting!" "Maxi, I really don't think this is-" Campbell began to speak, looking pale. "It's Max you irritating Scottish poof!" "Wha-what?"  Campbell and Philip both looked stunned, as if some great and unspoken secret had been splashed across the national news. "Oh come off it, people!  If these two were any more mince they'd be a Chilli Con Carne." An awkward silence fell across the group, broken only by Philip, who began to weep quietly into his napkin. He glared at them for a few seconds longer before about turning and striding into the hallway.  "Jesus Christ!  No wonder they threw you lot to the lions!” The door slammed shut in his wake. "Peace be with you…"  Tom murmured cheerlessly, smoothing his pullover.

[seenashwrite]

Conversations With The Commissioner: Crappy Monsters In Barber Shops, a.k.a. Nash's First Headcanon + Wine = The Image I’ll Never Be Able To Top

@lipstickandwhiskey kindly thought to tag me when she saw a jovial post that reminded her of my disappointment in the lack of dinosaurs in the *alternate world and hoped to cheer me, but little did she know [mainly because I completely brain farted on posting this way-back-when] this had been addressed. In an objectively bizarre way. Admittedly.

FYI: Spit-take warning in effect, also cursing, should you choose to carry on

Preamble

* Dear SPN Writers' Room*: I'm not calling it The Bad Place, because I'm done with y'all ripping from other stuff, in this case, a beyond phenomenal show - hey! you do recognize carefully crafted season arcs when you see it! - even if y'all thought it was a homage, it's not since viewers of the show "The Good Place" already know about The Bad Place and it's not a physical nightmare, it's a psychological nightmare.

Pay. Attention. Stop ripping from well-known pop culture shit without (1) making sure the “homage” is used correctly, (2) double-checking that something similar hasn't been done before and, if so, (3) adding your own cheeky-sneaky spin. Not doing so makes you look, at best, like hacks, at worst, like doofy dipshits, particularly when it is from shows in your same genre - like a renowned show from the same fucking network that hadn't even ended their run but a year and a half prior to when yours started - and wrapping up *your* season with a title that was an iconic element from an iconic show [it was iconic, for several reasons, that's an essay for another time] which was the basis for everything from a/possibly *the* pivotal moment in the series and which was tied to many of the composer's pieces for the soundtrack, as it was a central thread. TV Tropes is your friend.

Tangentially related, while we're here:

[Shep as Romo Lampkin]

I digress.  

The Background

The Commissioner and I pop a cork, start talking about the Wayward pilot. We don't say a word about the scripting or the acting [because if we do, I go down a Dolly Deadeyes road, and nobody wants that]. Rather, we do a deep dive on the things that resemble other things and postulate how this came to be. Not in the minds of the peeps behind it, no, the dive comes via what the youths call a "headcanon". I've never had one before, I don't think, and I'm proud this is the first.

Oh, and a housekeeping side note: While my observations/the conversing began that night, the main convo/legit start on the image at the bottom happened later on. This has been run through the Nash snark filter for funsies, which is why the tone is the same for the whole conversation as, in truth, I have little clear memory of a lot of this, and the time taken for the assemblage of the image took longer than a conversation's worth, since the beginnings were sponsored by wine but it had to be done, it's how I combat insomnia and after seeing the monsters, I needed to purge my feelings of.... well....

The Beginning

After a verbal review (an accosting-of, really) of both Well-Coiffed Predator in a Bane Mask and Dollar Store Doomsday from the Wayward pilot, we begin discussing theories on how exactly this came to be in the alt world. Everything below is based on (a) the fact that New!Kaia's outfit denotes the presence of some sort of killa shopping and/or a hella talented Matrix-obsessed seamstress in the alt-world, therefore why not additional styling like a salon, and (b) the fact that we were lit on wine.

And the Predator rip - who, in the concept art, does not appear rippy-offy, it should be noted - got that mask somehow. He's either homaging Bane all over his face [his own face, not the other-way-'round] or he's gotten hold of one of the real things, modded it a touch to account for the spread of his general mouth region. Seems their temp name is the generic supernatural/folklore catch-all that I was vaguely aware of - "Canid" - and that some dude who's apparently of import on the show hates it, and I concur because all I can think of when I see the name is Candida. The Commissioner asked for a reminder, and I explained what that infection was and that now upon learning the creature’s name, I looked upon it as a yeast infection made sentient. The copious amounts of viscous discharge helps that along.

This then got a general science light bulb to pop, and we again consulted the googles, and boo-yah:

It's a dog. That. That up there, that I linked to. A daaaawwwwg.

No, not a if-this-is-a-dog-then-what-does-the-owner-look-like, maybe-they're-just-disgruntled-puppy-mill-alums type of WTF. The WTF is because I, once again, am wondering if at any point people over yonder are bothering to check shit out with this cool new thing called google. I know. It's a novel suggestion.

Somebody sure as shit used said googlins for squid beak - it's a touch birdy beak, but nah, slimy squid goes better with the aesthetic - and I guess they had to, as they already gave the far superior on the creepy scale pacu teeth to the Dollar Store Doomsday.

Because we were sneery and feeling gross at this point, we needed something fun, so we refilled on wine, and decided to make a mash-up image of the “inspirations” [to be clear: The Commissioner decided I should make a mash-up]. We were also feeling gross after looking at all that above, so for an eye sorbet, we needed some pretty, and STAT. We both instantly knew what would do the trick.

We start the conversation with Bane.

The Conversation

[looking at still from that Batman movie Bane was in; neither of us have cared to clarify which of the Nolan B-mans it was, because we don't care]

The Commissioner: He is so smooth, like, everything, even the fit of the clothes.

Nash: I'll never forget his turn as young Picard in that shit 'Trek movie, what was it called?

[we do not look it up; digression discussion of the awesomeness that is Sir Patrick Stewart]

TC: What's in his hand? Is that a riding crop? Or a shuffleboard thing?

N: Yes, exactly, Bane took a break from beating up Batman to shuffle. Nooooo. He got drug away from riding his horsey----

TC: YOU MUST MEAN HIS STALLION - if he rides horses, they are buff

N: ---to bring the mask, and is he pissed about it?

TC: No. No, because he is a dollbaby - he loves dogs.

N: You're mixing Tom Hardy with Bane.

TC: NO.

N: [realizing] BECAUSE THAT IS A DOG THING, THAT CREATURE IS DOG

[digression googles to look at pics/vids of Tom Hardy with pups]

N: Oh, no, wait - can we make it a putter? Like he was on his way to golf?

TC: But he still doesn't mind, because he's good guy Bane? And golf sucks? Oh hell yes.

[putter image sought; we go back to staring at Hardy, sip wine for untold moments]

N: And Preddie's all - Oh Bane, no! I couldn't possibly! Aren't these custom made? But he's gripping the shit out of it, like, pry it from my hands, bitches.

TC: And he takes a sniff when nobody's looking and swoons. *SWOONS*

N: Freaked-out stylist saw, though, and a touch of pee slips out, because it was weird before, but now shit's kicked off.

TC: Oh, she's already wet her pants at least once, absolutely. Do we need to add her?

N: No, she's in the bathroom.

TC: But you know who we should add.

[Image of 1990s Leonardo Di Caprio is immediately sought; we love the R+J still too much for words and select it with zero pause]

N: But why?

TC: You know he's gonna end up bopping  around to other worlds anyhow, and for Bane to be here, there must be other rifts----

N: Low-Sugar Low-Fat Low-Calorie Eye of Saurons?

TC: ----so they're babysitting.

N: THIS MAKES SO MUCH SENSE [gulp of wine]  Hey, you know who should be his foster parents if he’s bopping around to all points?

TC: Is it some side-character who's off-show at the moment? So we can get the show back to, um, Sam and Dean?

N: Chuck and Amara.

TC: You remember they're brother and sister, right?

N: [side-eye] Okay.

TC: They are. It's canon.

N: OKAAAY.  [stares at Leo] Alright, what are we having him do? Satan's crotch goblin?

TC: [possibly disgusted with me] Pencils.

N: YES I KNOW WHAT TO DO they need to keep him busy so they just keep giving him piles of pencils to sharpen, and he's distressed because there's no more and the sharpener’s motor burnt out.

TC: [touch of a spit take]

[we stare at the collection of images; it is a bitch to find a clear shot of a Pred sitting, but we need him in a barber chair; I will ultimately cobble it from three separate images; it was worth every goddamn minute]

TC: Okay, now what about that thing? The thing? Deadpool?

N: No he was something else, that's Reynolds. Deadshot? Wait, hang on.

[we watch the Bob Ross Deadpool thing, maybe twice, I have no idea]

TC: What'd you say?

N: I dunno.

TC: Me neither I just remember thinking you were wrong.

N: [looks it up, or we'll be here all week] DOOMSDAY

TC: Stop, stop, stop - didn't we also say Lord of the Rings cave troll?

N: I can't remember if it was me or somebody else.

TC: Do cave troll.

[we search]

N: Holy shit. He's in the club.

[image chosen; best one is of him pointing; I later add the touch of a framed photo of King Kong that's inexplicably hanging in the barber shop, also next to it a photo of Captain Shitty Render]

N: But Doomsday.

TC: Do it.

[image chosen; this was also a bitch, I had to blur and cobble and blend and hide part of his bottom half because ZACK SNYDER LOVES SHOOTING EVERYTHING LIKE WE'RE IN A DANK CAVE]

N: They're so glad Bane pulls through, because Preddy won't shut the fuck up about him.

TC: It's because his last boyfriend was garbage, keeps hanging out with humans, and Bane's loyal, like he was to that chick from Inception, like----

N: LIKE DOG

[the bottle is empty; we are sleepy]

The Results

I regret not adding an aquarium with a squid.

The Aftermath

Both TC and my Tumblr wife @butiaintgonnaloveem had reactions that can nicely tuck under the umbrella of [in concerned tone] Nash are you okay, like, is life beating you down somehow, this is crazypants which I appreciate from the latter, but as for the former I pointed out that they are my enabler/dealer/peer-pressurer in every bit of this.

There is no end to this post. 

[nerdhorde]

🌻 questions tag 🌻

I was tagged by the lovely @fsstudies to answer all of these questions. Thank you very much! I shall attempt to make myself look interesting, haha. 

I tag @affinityscience @hayley-studies @my-little-studyblr @georgestudies @raven-studies. I don’t talk to very many people on here so you have been chosen at random (mostly). If you don’t wanna do it, then ofc that’s chill. I also tag anyone who sees this n kind of fancies doing it. Go wild, kiddo. 

LAST:

1. Drink: water, and before that, tea. 

2. Phone call: probably my best friend

3. Text message: well, the last time I messaged someone was on facebook (my friend from uni), but the last time I properly texted someone it was probably my best friend, again.

4. Song you listened to: la devotee - p!atd

5. Time you cried: watching a film. I can’t for the life of me remember what it was. I cry a lot, tbf. 

HAVE YOU:

6. Dated someone twice: no 

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: I don’t think I regret any of them, no. Well, I’ve kissed someone and regretted it months later if that counts. 

8. Been cheated on: nope

9. Lost someone special: yes

10. Been depressed: yes, I suppose so. 

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: yes. All of the time. My stomach is very bad at handling alcohol, so tactical chunders are usually the way to go. I’ve never been absolutely plastered though, and vomiting not by choice; I’ve usually always chosen when I’m going to throw up (usually to make myself feel better/avoid a hangover). 

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:

12. Black

13. Blue

14. Grey

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: yes, I started university last September so I made a fair few. 

16. Fallen out of love: not in the romantic sense, no. 

17. Laughed until you cried: yes, a week ago, actually. 

18. Found out someone was talking about you: oh lord, yes, haha. It’s been the cause of all my problems, this past month or so. 

19. Met someone who changed you: no.

20. Found out who your friends are: most bloody definitely!

21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: yes, I think I did. I regret it now, haha. 

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: The vast majority of them I’d say. Most of them are people I went to school with, and if I didn’t go to school with them, they’re people I’ve met drunk on a night out. There’s only a handful on there who I’ve not met. 

23. Do you have any pets: yes, we have a black labrador, called Breeze. 

24. Do you want to change your name: I’ve never really been fond of my name, it was very popular the year I was born so I always find a lot of people my age called Sophie. If I were to change my name I’d change my last name. I’d make up something completely new so I wasn’t associated with either side of my family. 

25. What did you do for your last birthday: I went to see Morrissey live in Manchester with my best friend, that was a brilliant weekend, one of the best experiences of my life. And with my family I think we went out for a meal? It was so long ago now I can’t even remember properly, haha. 

26. What time did you wake up: today it was 6am, because I’ve got to travel 180 miles North to move some of my stuff in to my new uni house. Usually I’m very bad at getting out of bed before midday, but if I’ve got stuff to do I can wake up any time.

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Probably watching old Whose Line Is It Anyway  episodes. The UK ones, of course. 

28. Name something you can’t wait for: going back to university in September, though I’m going to miss my best friend desperately. 

29. When was the last time you saw your mom: I saw her 8 hours ago, I think? Just before she went to bed. 

30. What is the one thing you wish you could change in your life: my anxiety (lol, #deep). Deep down I know I’m supposed to be a very extroverted person, but it prevents me from being that. 

31. What are you listening to right now: other than the noisy sodding birds outside my window? Nothing, lmao. 

32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: yes? I knew two guys called Tom in middle school. 

33. Something that is getting on your nerves: probably one of my ex-friends (that sounds dramatic af). She’s been very irritating recently and I wish she’d just stop being such a child and leave me the hell alone. 

34. Most visited websites: twitter, facebook, tumblr, youtube. The usual suspects, haha. 

35. Mole/s: yes. Lots. According to my mum they’re a sign of strength. That might well be bollocks, but who knows. 

36. Mark/s: I’ve got a scar on my right eyebrow from when I ran into the corner of a wooden table as a child. I used to get called “Sophie Potter”, Lords knows why cos it ain’t bloody lightning shaped. 

37. Childhood dream: when I was 5, probably just owning a tractor would be enough for me (a Ford one, because they’re blue); when I got a bit older I wanted to be an author, or an illustrator, or an author who illustrated her own books. 

38. Hair color: brown

39. Long or short hair: long. I only had it cut for the first time in 2 years a few months ago. It was ridiculously long then. 

40. Do you have a crush on someone: no, not a crush. That’s the wrong word.

41. What do you like about yourself: I actually quite like my appearance nowadays. I’m very proud of my intelligence, my knowledge of useless facts, my sarcasm, how funny I can be, and my art.

42. Piercings: ear lobes and my nose. I’d love to get more done. 

43. Blood type: I have absolutely no idea, not even my own mother knows. 

44. Nickname: I don’t have one. Some people have attempted to call me “Soph” in the past and I’ve quickly shot them down, only my dad gets to call me that and even then I don’t like it, haha. Occasionally I’ve been called by my last name, and some jokes have been made out of my last name but nothing’s ever really stuck. 

45. Relationship status: single… as a pringle..?

46. Zodiac: I don’t know much about this. I know I’m a Leo… 

47. Pronouns: she/her

48. Favorite TV show: Doctor Who, TLOG, anything Reece Shearsmith & Steve Pemberton write, Green Wing (recently), House, Lie To Me… There’s loads more but I can’t list them all, I’d be here all day. 

49. Tattoos: I have a tattoo of some planets and stars over a mountain on my inside left wrist. I got it about a year ago. I want lots more!

50. Right or left hand: Right. Though weirdly I started out life left-handed and then switched of my own accord when I was about 5. Unfortunately that doesn’t make me ambidextrous though, dammit. 

51. Surgery: twice. Had my tonsils removed as a kid, and then I used to be tongue-tied so I had to have that sorted a few years after. 

52. Hair dyed in different colour: not yet. I’m planning on it soon though, my hair’s a little drab at the moment. 

53. Sport: I used to love football (soccer) as a kid and I was fairly good at it, mostly because I was vicious, and at school I was on various sports teams but nowadays I rarely do any. 

54. blackpink in your area???? I’ve no idea what this means, so I’m gonna skim past it. 

55. Vacation: as a family we’ve been to Greece together (Kos, specifically) and it was wonderful, and we’ve been caravanning on the coast a few times. We haven’t been on holiday in years, but we’re all going to Jersey next month, unfortunately for some not good reasons. 

56. Pair of trainers: two pairs of grey converse, one very new, one very tatty. And a pair of grey generic trainers for the gym (I like grey, apparently)

MORE GENERAL

57. Eating: mashed potato, gravy, pie, cheesy chips, my mum’s roast dinners, my grandma’s baking. 

58. Drinking: tea, always. I bloody love tea, not that I’m upholding a national stereotype there, but oh well. Wine is lovely, but vodka is my absolute favourite when it comes to alcohol. Or gin, though I can’t handle it very well. Tequila shots, yes, jaeger bombs, always. 

59. I’m about to: get dressed and go to my grandma’s for an hour before we drive up North to my new house

60. (there is no 60, this is odd)

61. Waiting for: my exam to be over (it’s on Tuesday, send help). 

62. Want: to be at the pub with my friends, and a night out at Welly (the best club ever, pop punk and indie trash on a loop).

63. Get married: I doubt it. I’m not interested in marriage really. 

64. Career: my dream career would be artist. Quite possibly a portrait artist. But I know that’s not exactly a safe bet, so I’ll save that until I’m financially stable. I’m doing a chemistry degree at the moment, so I suppose I’ll get a job using that. In research, maybe. 

65. Hugs or kisses: depends on the person. Hugs from everyone. Kisses are also wonderful too, though. 

66. Lips or eyes: eyes. 

67. Shorter or taller: neither. I’m tall compared to most of my friends, but not too tall that I can’t get away with wearing heels, so I’ll stick to where I’m at, cheers. 

68. Older or younger: younger I think. I miss being so carefree. 

(dammit why is there no 69 ffs)

70. Nice arms or nice stomach: on me? Stomach probably. But both I think. My arms are odd, I’d like to edit them a little. 

71. Sensitive or loud: both. Loud, naturally, I think. Sensitive not entirely out of choice. 

72. Hook up or relationship: hook up. I think I have commitment issues, I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone. 

73. Troublemaker or hesitant: depends. Mostly troublemaker. If I’m hesitant it’s only usually for a few seconds before I go “fuck it” and do it anyway. 

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a stranger: yes. Many a time. 

75. Drank hard liquor: yes. It’s lovely. 

76. Lost glasses/contact lenses:  nope, never, thank god. Let’s hope this continues. 

77. Turned someone down: yes, very gently. 

78. Sex on the first date:  I don’t think you could call it a date, but I’ve had sex with someone the first night I’ve met them? If that counts?

79. Broken someone’s heart: I don’t think so, no. Not that I’m aware of anyway.

80. Had your heart broken: no.

81. Been arrested: never. 

82. Cried when someone died: yes, of course. 

83. Fallen for a friend: no. Not really. I had a brief crush on a friend, but it didn’t last. 

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: sometimes yes, sometimes no. I can be very arrogant depending on my mood, so in those moments I do, yes. In the more anxious ones, definitely not. 

85. Miracles: no way

86. Love at first sight: no, I think it’s unrealistic. Lust at first sight, certainly, but not love. 

87. Santa Claus: hahah wait why is this even up for debate?? Duh. 

88. Kiss on the first date:  yeah, sure, why not, if I liked the person enough I certainly wouldn’t be averse to it. 

OTHER:

90. Current best friend name: Amy

91. Eye color: brown

91. Favorite movie: reservoir dogs, pulp fiction, anything tarantino, leon: the professional, so many of them

[titriwrites]

Scoop! - Chapter 4

A/N: A little earlier than expected, but I’m in the right mood to update. And mayyyyyybe, chapters 5 and 6 are around the corner as well. Have fun!

Not A Date Night

It’s been two days since they’d spoken about dinner which meant that now, on Friday evening at 6 p.m., Jo had to hurry to make it back home from work in time. She needed about half an hour from the Daily News building to her flat. Then she was about to meet Tom at 7:15. They decided on The Porchester, an English Pub which served Burgers as well as fish, and Bangers and Mash, since Tom had been away from England for so long that he missed the typical English food and Jo thought the pub had the least obvious date vibe.

So, when she hastily grabbed her things, and saw William shooting her a knowing wink and smile, Jo just rolled her eyes instead of getting into a discussion about personal space and her boss trying to get on her nerves. He had almost cornered her that morning, asking for updates after their editorial meeting. Luckily, Jo had another article to write, and three in line for additional editing. A normal day at work and not an exciting task at all, but that morning she could not have been happier. The young woman didn’t know how often she would have to tell William that he would get the news as soon as she got them. Without yelling or cursing at him, if possible.

“You’re in a hurry today, aren’t you, darling?” Jo’s co-worker, Mary, spoke from her side, just as Jo was about to get to the elevator.

“Yes, I have to go, I’m meeting –“

“Tom?” Mary finished for her.

That made Jo stop and look at the blonde 42-year-old with slightly wide eyes. “How do you know about Tom?” she asked, forgetting the elevator and her ride back to her flat for a moment. Did William say anything to her? Jo thought she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, that was exactly the reason she didn’t tell Sam and Nick – and Mary, whom she considered her friend as well.

The slightly older woman chuckled at that. “Sam couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Said he wanted to go out himself and that you wouldn’t be home, either. When I asked where you’d be, he told me you’ve met someone and that you’d have a date tonight,” she then smirked.

Jo huffed. “It’s hardly a date. We’ve met once and go to The Porchester. Just two maybe-friends going for a burger,” she explained, rather conveniently in her opinion. “By the way, do you always talk about me when I’m not around?”

“Most of the time, yes,” Mary winked. “But I leave you to it now,” she said as she almost pushed Jo into the elevator. As if she wasn’t the one that made her late in the first place. “And tell me everything about your date on Monday. Or better yet, text me.”

“It isn’t a –“, but Jo didn’t have time to respond as the elevator doors closed on her. She sighed. This wasn’t a date at all. It absolutely wasn’t supposed to be a date and it wasn’t one.

***

She looked beautiful. She really did look beautiful and cute and lovely. So much that Tom had to pinch himself to not get caught up in her, and actually focus.

They’ve met at 7:15, though, Jo was a little out of breath when she arrived, but she was on time nevertheless. They’ve made the reservation in her name – Kramer was her last name, he learned – mostly to stay relatively anonymous. Hiddleston did have quite the ring to it. Now they were sitting at a table in the back of the restaurant, something Jo must have requested when making the reservation, and something he was glad for. Except the one odd look from the waitress, who recovered pretty quickly, they didn’t seem to be bothered by anyone. At least, Tom didn’t see any smartphone flashes so far.

He couldn’t take the eyes off the brown-haired woman in front of him, with her light make-up and sparkling green eyes. She had taken off her dark-grey coat with white highlights, and sat in front of him with a simple black dress and black tights, which she donned with a pair of grey-white-black striped shoes. She looked adorable, yet feminine and simple like – her.

At the moment they talked about their week, respectively. They had ordered their meals and drinks – a grilled plaice fillet with roasted vegetables paired with a Chardonnay for Jo, and Bangers and Mash with a beer for himself – and were now chatting along. Jo had a lot of editing to do during the week, as well as some articles to write, and was at the office from half past seven in the morning up to at least half past six, he learned. Tom had a lot of meetings, mostly about his upcoming visit to South Sudan and his appearances at the Evening Standards Theatre Awards as well as the preparation for the documentary he was working on at the moment. It was luck they were both free this Friday evening, it seemed.

They talked lightly, though there was one question Tom had, ever since Jo had sent him the address of the pub.

“Jo, you said you live close, right?” Tom asked, just as their food arrived and they were ready to dig in.

She raised an eyebrow as she chewed slowly and then swallowed. “Yes, I do. I’ve walked for maybe three minutes.”

“So, how come I had to ride almost 40 minutes on the Tube, then?” That wasn’t the question he really meant to ask, though. “Or better, yet: what the hell were you doing in a café, at not yet 9 o’clock on a work day and 40 minutes away from your home?” That was pretty unusual, was it not?

Jo swallowed again, despite not taking another bite while he was asking his question. “Well, you see, my co-worker and friend, Mary, she lives in Belsize Park. She got into a row with her husband and he said he was going to stay at a friend’s for the night. So, the very good friend I am, I went over there the night before and comforted her and stayed the night. The next morning, he came home, and I didn’t feel like intruding, and left. So, I ended up at the café. Thank god, I didn’t have to be at work until lunch. The only day of my week, that wasn’t coated in stress, really,” she explained. Well, that sounded better than Tom’s idea of her stalking him.

“That actually explains a lot. I hope they’re fine now?”

“Oh, don’t worry. They’ve known each other for twenty years. A little dispute over something minor won’t end their marriage.”

“My parents didn’t even make it to the twenty year mark.” Tom had no idea, why he shared this with Jo. Maybe, because he already learned that her parents were divorced as well, and he didn’t have to play the ‘I had the perfect childhood’-game with her.

She let out a short snort before she said, “Well, my parents made it past the thirty year mark, and still got a divorce. Time isn’t really a factor here. If you’ve known someone for forty years or one month, it really is the feeling that counts. It can be as real after a few weeks as it is after a few years.”

“Yeah, my last relationship –,” he stopped himself there. That really wasn’t something to talk about on the first date. Even, if it wasn’t a date at all.

But that topic seemed to arouse Jo’s curiosity. “What about your last relationship? Well, to be fair, it’s not like I haven’t read about it, but as someone who’s a journalist, I can admit, that you don’t always get the whole truth unless it fits the picture.”

“Wow, do I sense some self-criticism there?” It was meant to be a joke, but Jo’s serious expression told him that it was indeed that.

“Well, you know the saying that you shouldn’t believe in statistics that you didn’t doctor yourself? In some ways, that counts for journalists, too. They’re pretty aware of what they leave out of a story and what they put in there. You already learn that in your studies. Good journalists just tend to try and gather all the information, and actually use it, too.”

“That sounds like a pretty reasonable approach to me.”

“It really is,” Jo answered with a smile, and Tom almost dropped his fork, so beautiful she looked in that moment. Her green eyes sparkled, her lips parted a little and he could have counted her freckles right then and there.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “Yes, well. There still isn’t really much to tell. It was real, it was fast, and it ended quickly.” That really was all there was.

“Okay, so let me tell you about my last relationship, and maybe it makes you open up,” she winked then. “I was with Markus for almost a year, and we didn’t meet each other’s parents really, basically because we met in Hamburg and that was not where our families lived. It still didn’t last. So, I really don’t think, that anyone should compare their relationship to anyone else’s.”

“Why didn’t it last, then?”

“Hm. That’s a pretty good question.” Jo looked around the room as if she was searching for an answer there, before looking back into Tom’s eyes. “The lack of romance, maybe? I know, you’ve got some criticism, because the last relationship went pretty fast, but when you take too much time, and you’re too careful – well, that wasn’t right for me. I guess, it just wasn’t that exciting. Not that we could have jetted off to Italy and Australia in the first month,” she then winked and grinned at Tom.

He let out a small laugh. She did have a point there. They did go all in pretty much overnight. “It was real, though,” he answered her unasked question. “Just because some pictures weren’t that sudden and unforeseen doesn’t mean everything was fake. We just thought that not hiding wouldn’t give them that many reasons to stalk.”

Jo actually snorted at that. It was a cute sound, Tom just didn’t know if he was supposed to be amused by it or offended by the meaning behind it. “That didn’t really work out, did it?” she then mumbled, more to herself than actually asking him.

Tom answered anyway. “It did in some aspects. We weren’t photographed all the time.”

“Oh, come on, Tom. It was like, they knew every single one of your locations. I’m pretty sure you and her respectively could go out before, without every step of you being recorded. But fame doesn’t work that way, huh?”

He knew, she didn’t want to sound mean, he really did. But somehow, Tom still had the strange urge to defend himself. “I never was one for hiding. I always went out and did my thing, and if there were fans or paps, I still had fun. And I just continued like that. It was just, that she –“.

“She had kind of an image to keep? Or lived her life differently?” Jo interrupted him.

“The second option.” It was the first time he talked this freely about his summer with someone apart from his younger sister, Emma, Chris, and Luke. He didn’t really care.

Jo nodded. “I understand that. It’s basically the same in every other relationship. You have to figure out how to compromise, if you’re not already frighteningly alike. You just seemed to be figuring each other out quite publicly and famously. But yes, that’s the same for every couple, I guess. So, how did it end? If you don’t mind me asking?”

Strangely, he didn’t. “Well, we figured each other out. And after the honeymoon phase, we realised that she wasn’t over her ex, and I wasn’t ready to either hide or act differently in public. And then it ended after the summer.”

“So, it was real?”

“Yes, it was. As real as a rebound can be.”

“And meeting the parents after a month of dating.”

Tom felt himself blush at the mention of his mother – his entire family, actually – being involved in his summer activities, without really getting the change to decline being out in the open. “Yeah, that went pretty fast as well. But, the visit was planned for me anyway. Maybe not with that much attention.”

Jo smiled a little, and gave him an encouraging look. “As long as anyone involved was okay with it, you’re on the safe side I guess.”

“I am. I really am,” he smiled back, eating the last of his meal and feeling a little lighter after talking about his summer so someone else.

***

“You really didn’t have to walk me to the door, Tom,” Jo said, as they stood in front of the building she lived in, after having spent the evening dining, laughing, and talking.

“It really is the right thing to do, Josefine. Couldn’t let you walk alone in the dark.” She resisted the urge to close her eyes and let his smooth voice invade her senses. Yes, he had a great voice, and god yes, he did look so good in his black trousers, white shirt, and grey coat. Fucking beautiful, but maybe that was the wine talking.

The fact was, she did have a lovely evening. If it was a date, she would certainly expect a kiss. But it wasn’t a date, and unfortunately all she gathered from the evening wasn’t really newsworthy as well. His relationship wasn’t fake, yay. Not really something, she could write in an article. ‘The scoop on Tom Hiddleston: He didn’t lie about his summer’ wasn’t really the headline she was going for. To make matters worse, he was even nicer than she expected, and more beautiful and charming as well, and she now had to tell Mary that she obviously had marital problems with her husband of twenty odd years.

“We’ve literally just walked for three minutes, and you have to go all the way back to get the Tube, Tom,” she tried to argue. But, she got to know him a lot better that evening, and knew that this really wasn’t a moot point to him.

“A lot can happen in three minutes,” Tom answered and then actually blushed. “Well, you know, you getting robbed for example. Wasn’t meant to be cheeky here.”

Jo chuckled and was just about to answer, when she saw a couple behind Tom’s back, approaching fast. “Oh, shit,” she mumbled and saw Tom’s confused look.

“What is it? Is it something I’ve –“.

But he didn’t get to finish. Instead, Jo could already feel herself blush and saw Nick’s attempts to hush his boyfriend, but behind Tom, Sam already exclaimed loudly, “Oh, what a surprise, darling Josefine. Had fun?” Tom turned; seemingly surprised at hearing Jo’s name, and Sam and Nick came to a halt in front of them. “Hi, I’m Sam, and this is my boyfriend Nick,” he started to introduce them, “You must be Tom -,” he stopped then, “- fucking Hiddleston?!”

Jo would have laughed, if she wasn’t so mortified. Tom on the other hand just chuckled. He clearly was used to the reaction. “Hi,” he said, offering his hand, “I’m Tom. And you’re the roommates, I assume?”

While Sam could only nod, Nick shook Tom’s hand, and at the same time gave Sam a little shove. “We are. And we must get upstairs now. It was nice to meet you. Come on, Sam. Jo, see you soon.” And off he went, a stunned Sam trailing behind him, holding onto his hand and giving Jo a look that promised a detailed discussion later on.

Jo blushed and hid her face as soon as the two of them were alone again. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, “That was beyond embarrassing.”

“It really wasn’t,” Tom laughed, “I’ve dealt with much worse encounters. But I guess, you really didn’t tell them, who you’ve met?” He actually seemed to be impressed.

She just shrugged in response. “It really didn’t matter to me. I’ve said I’d meet Tom and I did.”

“You really did,” he smiled. “So –“. Well, that was a little awkward now. “I’ll see you?”

“Yes,” Jo breathed, “you will.”

Tom opened his arms a little and Jo went for the hug. It wasn’t a kiss, but it was more than just friendly. It was nice. “Get home safe, please,” Jo mumbled into his coat and smelled his aftershave.

“I will,” Tom whispered back, and all too soon the hug was over. Instead he beamed at her. “I’ll text you? Or call you?”

“That’d be great.”

“Great.” With that, Tom slowly stepped backwards, not without waving one last time, before he turned and walked back the way they’ve come just five minutes ago.

He smelled so good, Jo thought, and she was so screwed.