Tom Hiddleston Fan Fiction by Nova
If you don’t know, some fans are completely insane when it comes to meeting celebrities. Oh don’t get me wrong. There are some real sweethearts out there. I’ve gotten all manner of gifts. From Macaroni art to hand painted portraits of me, I have to say I’ve gotten a number of gifts, and all of them were just filled with love. But others… well, let’s just say wedding dresses in photo ops are a bit bizarre, especially when it’s not a costume.
So, towards the end of a recent convention, I was given a gift by a fan. In an odd twist my lines had been emptied from fans, giving me a rare breather. She wheeled it over to my table on a dolly, and was followed by event security. They gave me a nod as she lowered the over 5 foot tall box next to my table. I gave her an a perplexed look. She just smiled a sweet smile at me. She was about the size of the box, wearing a black laced dress that seemed gothic in design, which happened to show off her cleavage.
She told me some long winded story about being in a dark place, and how until she ran across one of my movies that she was ready to kill herself. As she teared up, I came around my table and gave her a hug. After the hug she told me that it was the reason she wanted to get me something. Something that was a thank you and that might do for her what she did for me. I asked her what it was, and she just shook her head. She said she wouldn’t tell me, but asked me not to open it until I got home.
The trip back to London was a long one, and I had almost forgotten about the gift when I got into my house. My agent had gotten it back home for me along with the other gifts, but this one, he left standing in my Livingroom. There was a note attached stating it had been X-Rayed before bringing it here, and checked for anything that might be harmful to me and had passed every check.
Finally, I opened it. Inside I found a… well I guess they’re called ‘Real Dolls’… so this doll looked to be modeled after the fan that had given it to me. Even down to the gothic look she wore. There was a letter in the doll’s hand. I took it and opened it.
Dear Tom,
Your movie helped me to find the strength to talk to someone about my issues. Maybe this doll is someone you can talk too.
Love,
Melody
I looked at the doll again. I noticed it had haunting green eyes for the first time. It was quite the contrast to the black hair the doll had. I sighed to myself, but then got an idea. I pulled the doll, which seemed to have some weight to it out of the box, only to find out that I could pose it. I carried it to my couch and posed it into a very demure sitting position, then crashed on the couch next to it.
“Well, there you are. Hope you’re comfortable… not sure what to call you…” I started. “Wait, why am I talking to a doll?” I asked no one in particular.
That’s why she bought me for you.
My eyes opened wide. Had I just heard that? Did the doll talk? No, it must be my imagination… right?
