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Hell's old crap
random whatnots, including old rp character profiles and art
Possible fanfic???
She was bored. The television droned on about some distant star system in the background. She had been watching the science channel, but the chime of her phone interrupted her and left her distracted. By the time the conversation was over, she had missed all of the important information that built up to the current thesis and was completely lost. So instead of attempting to put together the pieces of the information, Brittany pulled her laptop into her lap.
"Tumblr, Tumblr.....I wonder what everyone has to say about this week's episode of Game of Thrones..."
The familiar blue of her dash showed on the screen, and suddenly she was staring into the eyes of Tom Hiddleston. She caught herself pulling in a sharp breath. Whoever had taken that picture deserved an award.
His thin lips were pulled wide in a smile that made his bright eyes crinkle playfully, his long black hair indicating that this picture had been taken during one of the times he had been playing Loki. His casual shirt was low collared, showing off his collarbone.
She pushed the computer from her lap, laying back on her bed and closing her eyes. When she opened them, black and white zebra print sheets greeted her. The wind howled outside and she thought she heard a familiar "ehehehe" laugh on the wind.
She frowned. 'Alright, Tom, this isn't funny. You're making my ovaries implode on purpose. Stop it....wait. Nevermind. Don't stop, but give me a warning first, jeez.'
What was happening to her? She knew damn well what was happening. Ever since she had seen The Avengers movie she had been obsessed. At first it was just with the character Loki, but soon, as she did her research, she stumbled head first into the magnificent wonder that was Tom Hiddleston. She had even pursued an acting career, something she had always wanted to do, after being inspired by his talent and passion.
Tugging the computer towards her, she quickly scrolled away from the picture. Words typed on a screen blurred her vision as she read various posts, occasionally cracking a grin. She found a post that mentioned Alabama, her home state, and felt a familiar burning sensation in her nose. She wouldn't cry. Not tonight. She glimpsed the time on the screen. 4:30pm.
With a huff, she sat up and reached over to her bedside table, one of the few things the theatre company she was interning with had furnished in their living quarters. She grabbed her wallet and favorite necklace. She had 30 minutes to finish getting ready.
She, miraculously, had a date. It had made her mother jump for joy that she was finally settling into her new surroundings after a week or so. It was the first actual date she had ever been on, and it was with one of the guys on the props crew. He was cute, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. He had asked her to some little café around the corner to, as he put it, try some traditional British cuisine. London was a strange place, and he had volunteered to show her around. She prayed he didn't have ulterior motives....he seemed sweet enough.
A few moments later a knock sounded on her door and she opened it to see that her date, Dane, was soaked to the bone and had a disappointed look. He gazed at her sheepishly, taking in that she was obviously ready to go out, and was starting to look a bit downtrodden.
She was. She knew by how he looked that the date was off. It honestly didn't surprise her. It wasn't the first time she had been let down. He opened his mouth to explain, and she held up a hand to stop him. "It's ok, Dane. I understand."
He relaxed a bit and smiled. "Oh good, I'm sorry this didn't work out....Maybe if it wasn't raining we could've still -"
"It's not raining," she cut him off, "I have a window, right behind me. It's not raining! You're lying to me, Dane. Why?"
He looked like a deer caught in headlights, and stammered out a response about how he had had an important engagement that he had forgotten about. She didn't want to hear it, because anyone stupid enough to lie about something so simple wasn't worth her time, and who knew if those simple things weren't lies, too?
Instead of standing there arguing, she reached over, grabbed her things and walked past him, closing her door behind her. She ignored his indignant voice buzzing behind her and sauntered down the hall to the stairs, deciding that she wasn't going to let some silly prop-boy spoil her afternoon. She would go out and sight see on her own.
Arriving on the street, she started walking towards the little café Dane had talked about, only to discover that it was a French café. 'Oh yeah, Dane, This is totally British cuisine.'
She walked in and took a seat, and a waiter brought over a menu. She looked it over and immediately knew what she wanted. Within a matter of minutes she was happily sipping a vanilla coffee with French vanilla creamer and nibbling on a fresh beignet. A book lay open in her hand. It was a transcript of Much Ado About Nothing, and it sent waves of nostalgia about her high school days shooting through her mind. She was in the middle of cracking a third- or was it a fourth?- grin while reading the antics of Beatrice, her favorite character, when she felt a sensation she was all too familiar with.
Someone, probably to her right, was staring at her. She glanced up, seeing a curly blond head duck beneath a book. Her brows knit together and she smirked, realizing that not only was it a man, but he was ironically reading Much Ado About Nothing, too. A smile graced her lips when he went to peek back up at her only to find she was still looking his way, and he hurriedly ducked back down. From the bit of his forehead she could see, he was turning red.
'Oh, he's blushing....that's so cute!' She decided that this was a golden opportunity and closed her book, gathered her things and moved to sit at his table across from him, her grin widening as she saw him turn even redder. She picked her book back up and continued where she left off, taking a bite of her beignet and another sip of her coffee. They stayed that way, her eventually making out that he was smiling, too, in a companionable silence.
All too soon, she finished consuming her wares and sighed. If she wanted to go and see Big Ben before it closed from tours she would have to depart and end this adorable situation she found herself in. Regretfully she stood, gathering her bag and arranging her used dishes into a neat pile for the waiter to collect, leaving a tip. She had paid beforehand. Sliding her chair in, she smiled at the man, still hidden behind his book, and noticed his shoulders were a little more slumped then they had been.
In her best British accent, she said "Thank you for the companionship. I really needed that after the week I've had. I hope you enjoyed it. Goodbye, sir."
She turned on her heel and sauntered out of the café gate and hailed a taxi, aware of a gaze glued to her back the whole time.
She sat inside the taxi, face lit up with a grin and told the driver the street she wanted in her best British. 'I'll have to go back there again soon, I guess.'
As an afterthought, to dissuade herself from the fact that she wanted to try and see this stranger again, she added: 'They have beignets.'

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