angels and comets

…she loves Andrey with all her heart….

A wee spot of Natasha, Pierre, And the Great Comet of 1812 fanart for my secret santa @elisabethhamilton! (P.S., I also have a little package of goodies to send to you soon–sorry for the delay!) <3 <3

@ thedrawingduke on twitter + instagram + facebook

            ❛   MMM ,   no ,   it’s okay   ❜    &   why wouldn’t it be ?   when ,   ignoring the significant increase of comfort gained from the simple gesture due to her profuse hypersensitivity ,   the warmth bestowed is more than welcome in the midst of this torrid chill    ❛   you’re warm   ❜    //   @ceasepain ,   continued from here

My Jensen auto story at A14

god this photo is so big and this story is so long I’M SO SORRY

I’ve been meaning to do this for the past week and it’s only now (conveniently when I have the first of my final year exams on Monday) that I’ve finally gotten around to doing it.

I think it’s better if I start with some background about me. If you know me or have read my #AlwaysKeepFighting story then you will know that when I was young I was a victim of sexual abuse. A couple of years ago I was struggling to cope with it as well as a number of other things. My mental health was at an all-time low and I was all over the place. At the same time a friend of mine lent me season one of Supernatural to ‘take my mind off things’ - and it worked. To see its characters go through hell (literally at times, heh) and keep going - it helped me a lot. I marathoned the then eight seasons in a single week. I learnt about the actors, their personal fights, stories and charity work. Supernatural and its actors, I can honestly say, is one of the main reasons I’m still here today.

Flash forward one year. Asylum 12. I was shitting myself. First con and I was completely alone. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was too scared to talk to the cast or to other attendees other than a little ‘hi’ when it was necessary. I was still healing.

Flash forward another year. I was in university now. On a course I never thought I’d be accepted on. I’d been to Africa alone volunteering with elephants. I’d immersed myself in charity work and making people happy in my job. My confidence and self esteem had sky rocketed and I’d managed to save enough money to attend Asylum 14 in May 2015.

I’d sat in front of my computer for hours waiting for the small chance that I’d managed to preorder a Jensen autograph successfully due to limited numbers. When I got the confirmation email that I was successful I danced around my flat for an hour. I was going to meet Jensen Ackles. I could thank him in person. I could thank Misha and Jared too and tell them what they’d done for me. I decided to write a letter telling them my story. The problem was I didn’t know how to write it. I didn’t know how to put it into words and I thought I never would be able to.

Then it came to when I had to travel to Birmingham for Asylum 14. I was sat on the platform waiting for the first of my trains. The sun was shining and it was stupid o’clock in the morning but it was at that moment I realised how truly happy I was. I was so lucky to have what I do now and now I’m at a place where I can find myself able to help other people who need it. I grabbed my notebook from my rucksack and wrote the letter while sharing my breakfast with the pidgeons.

The next day, after already having the time of my life at the convention, it was time for my long-waited autograph with Jensen. There was about three hundred people in the queue and I amused myself by chatting with fellow con-goers and trying to plan out what I wanted to say to Jensen.

I was fine all the way done the queue and when I was just a few people away from the autograph table. I’d heard that any letters/gifts were meant to be given to their handler so when Jensen was talking to the person in front of me I handed my letter over as the person in front left the table. “I’m supposed to give this to you, right?” I asked. “Hell no!  If it’s for him, you give it to him!” She said, elbowing Jensen. “Jensen, you’ve got a letter here.”

At that moment Jensen saw me and smiled. “Hi!” He said.

I smiled back. “Jensen–” I said quietly. Then, I burst into tears. Well, shit.

“I just want to say that thanks to you and Jared and the show I wouldn’t be here so thank you.” I babbled, struggling to fight the urge to just turn and run. 

Jensen smiled at me then, big and bright. “Well,” He said. “I’m glad you’re here.” He signed my photo and then picked up the letter that the handler had slid across the table to him. “I will read this.”

I thanked him, picked up my signed photo and then basically ran out the room.

All down the hallway I was crying but I managed to keep some composure. I heard whispers all around me in the queue. “Why is she crying?” “What’s wrong with her?” “Is she hurt?”

I all but ran to the hall where I knew some friends of mine were stewarding and practically threw myself into a friend’s arms. I then started to hypoventilate and go into one of my panic attacks. I couldn’t get a good breath and around sobbing I began to shake violently. They sat me down and while I told them what happened someone ran to get me some water from the bar.

After a few minutes I managed to get some control of my breathing and I calmed down. 

“He said he was glad I’m here.” I whispered. “Jensen is glad I’m here and he’s going to read my letter.”

And here we are, a week later. This autograph and experience was amazing. Jensen and the other cast know my story. They know how they have helped me and others in their work.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Jensen said to me.

And you know what? So am I.

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