First of all, I just wanted to thank y'all for all the love on the last tutorial I posted -I’m glad people found it worthy of sharing and reading. I wanted to make this one more in-depth. I don’t think I would call this a “tutorial” to achieve something specific, but a look into the thought process that goes on regarding environments, storytelling and execution. Hopefully you can relate it to your own thought processes you currently have.
Have a good one, guys! If you got questions, do ask ‘em. :)
(Also. I know I’ve been quiet in posting new art lately. A lot of the art I can’t show yet but there is cool stuff on the way.)
Title: Run to You Author: Iwalkalone258 Character(s): Barry Allen, Iris West Category: Romance Rating: M Word Count: 1120 Chapter(s): 3 of 7 Previous Chapters:1 , 2 Summary: Intimate moments between Barry and Iris leading up to May 23rd. [Drabbles]
A/N:This chapter was inspired by @wanderer765. I told @iwasalwaysaromantic I was gonna write this. I hope you all enjoy. This is how I feel Iris would react to finding out Savitar wears Barry’s face.
“W-what do you mean you’re Savitar?” Her voice trembles
while she watches him with huge eyes, eyes Barry can’t seem to look away from.
He takes a step closer to where she stands but she takes a step back, one of
her hands reaching out as a warning to stop him. She doesn’t want him touching
her and that burns a life size crater into his heart. He sucks in a pained
breath and decides to give her space momentarily.
“I-I…” he stutters, not knowing how to answer her question
coherently. How do you tell the love of your life that the monster who wants to
murder her is some form of you? He scratches behind his ear, consternation
crippling his chest.
“I-I’m not,” Barry’s nostrils flare as he inhales. His
palms itch to touch her, his body already in need of her warmth, and her strength.
She’s always been the stronger of the two until now. Water springs to his eyes
once he notices how small she looks, how terrified. He’s never noticed that
“But he has your face so it’s some form of you, right?”
“Yes.” His feet step forward on their own accord, his heart
beating erratically in his throat. Iris doesn’t move this time; she only wraps
her arms around herself and he takes this as encouragement to take a half step
closer. He wants to make all of this disappear. He wants to soak her pain up
and make her feel better, make her feel alive. “Yes he has my face but he’s not
Iris glances away but it’s too late because he sees her
tears. He sees this wounded, hurtful look cross her features and he can’t imagine
what she must be feeling.
He’s the love of her life, the man she sees a future with, the
man of her dreams, her lover, her best friend, and it dawns on her that her best friend’s doppelgänger wants to
murder her and in all honesty, she doesn’t know how to react. How is she
supposed to react?
“Iris,” She hears him plead, and the way he speaks her name
is bleeding with the pain imploding inside of her chest. Her bottom lip quivers
out of rhythm with her heaving. She wants to cry, no that’s not right, she
wants to sob. She can already feel the tremor roll through her like thunder on
a stormy night and this time she doesn’t try to stop it.
He’s catching her before she realizes she’s falling. They’re
in a heap on the floor in the middle of Star Labs and she can’t recall her legs
giving out or when she first tastes the salt from her tears.
she supposed to react?
Iris’s shaking hands finds Barry’s and her grasps are laden
like steel but she holds no intentions of hurting him. She’s holding on for
dear life. She’s exhausted from keeping up this persona, from pretending none
of this is affecting her. It is because she’s afraid. She’s afraid of dying, of
not being on earth long enough to accomplish her dreams, to be the woman she’s
meant to be in this life.
Barry’s arms tighten around her, and he holds her to his
chest while her sobs rock both of their tensed frames. His cheeks are wet when
he buries his lips on top of her head.
“You have to believe me when I say I would never hurt you,”
His words string together, rawness dripping from every syllable. “I’m the same
person you’ve known since we were ten, the same person you welcomed into your
home, the same person you believed when no one else did. I’m that same person
Iris. I’ve never changed from that person and I would never do anything to hurt
you,” He draws away from her enough to cup her cheeks, his palms engulfing her
face. At first she doesn’t look at him but when she raises her gaze to his, he
can’t help but brush gentle kisses over each of her eyes in turn.
It’s been seventeen years and he’s never seen her this
fragile; this broken. She’s so strong, so independent that seeing her like this
triggers a reaction deep in his gut. He can’t help but feel trepidation for the
No, Savitar won’t lay a finger on her. He’ll die before
that happens. Her hands filter up to grip his wrists and all Barry can do is
stare into the depths of her eyes. He remembers the day Joe brings him home
from the police station, he remembers those same sweet eyes watching him with
such kindness, such warmth. He remembers taking her offered hand and knowing no
matter where life takes them that she’ll forever be his home.
“He’s not me Iris and I’m not him,” No parts of me are, he adds silently. “I love you, you’re my life,
my dream and I would never hurt you, okay?”
She exhales, her eyes no longer filled with tears. His
thumb rubs over the vagarious thump of the beat in her wrist, hoping to reassure
her. Barry can’t explain any of this, all he discerns is the need to protect
her. She licks her lips and slowly nods willing herself to calm down, her
sniffles the only response.
“He’s not me Iris,” Barry repeats again, nailing that fact
in with his eyes. “Nor will I ever be him,” She visibly swallows and nods again,
showing her decision to accept this. That’s all she can do because she doesn’t
trust her voice not to waiver or her chest not to cave in. He leans in and
kisses her lips so tenderly that Iris thinks she imagines the whole thing.
“Now let’s go figure out a way to stop him.” He’s wiping
her tears away and helping her up within seconds. She doesn’t need to speak, or
say a single word because he understands, he has always understood and the
monster who pins for her death isn’t her Barry
Allen. He’s not worthy of sharing the same face either. Barry uses his knuckles
to wipe the remainder of the salty wetness from her eyelashes.
“I love you,” she whispers, stopping him with a hand
splayed over his racing heart.
“I love you too.” He responds without fault or kilter. He
spreads his hand over the one on his chest and they stand for a pregnant moment
gazing at each other, basking in a type of understanding. Iris is the first to
break the moment. She turns her palm to his and intertwines their fingers
together. She doesn’t smile, doesn’t do anything else but squeezes his hand as
they both walk back into the cortex together.
I glance up at her, scribbling in
her notebook, and her tongue is peeking out of the corner of her mouth slightly.
Isaac comes up behind her,
whispering something in her ear and she looks startled. She jumps in her chair,
slamming her notebook closed before shoving it away from her slightly.
“So what have you found so far?” He
asks me and I look up quickly.
“Nothing. I’ve found nothing,
absolutely nothing.” I grumble in irritation while tugging at my hair in
frustration. “What about you, Y/N? Did you find anything useful? You’ve been
writing in your notebook non-stop for like an hour.”
“Oh, just a few things, possible
ideas. Nothing too useful yet, definitely nothing share worthy.” She say
quickly, inching her fingers towards her notebook that’s made its way closer to
my side of the table. “Anyways, I just remembered that my mom needed me to go
run some errands while she’s at work so I’m just going to go.”
She grabs the notebook quickly and
stuff it into her backpack before swinging the bag over her shoulder and leave
the library before I even have time to say goodbye.
“Well, someone seems a little
jumpy.” Isaac remarks, raising an eyebrow at her empty seat and I shrug,
pulling my notebook towards me. “Alright well Scott and I are going to go and
see if we can catch the Alpha pack’s scent so I’ll catch you later.” He adds,
getting up from his seat, and I nod at him in farewell.
I flip the notebook open and am
greeted with Y/N’s neat handwriting. My eyebrows furrow in confusion, wondering
if maybe she added some things into my notebook to combine out notes together.
slides a finger into her, his thumb rubbing against her clit and she throws her
head back. “Fuck, right there Stiles,” She says, moaning in satisfaction.
I scan along the page, reading a few
sentences here and there and my face flushes immediately when I see my name,
and my dick tightens in response.
shit. I think to myself when I realize what I was holding in my hand. Y/N
hadn’t been doing research for the past hour, she’d been writing smut. My eyes
scan down along the page again, reading a bit more and I shift in my seat;
very, very detailed smut. I take a
shaky breath before shoving everything into my backpack and rushing out of the
library to my car, anxious to head home and read the rest of the holy grail
that I’ve stumbled on.
I search through my backpack
frantically, dumping everything out on to the floor desperately looking for my
notebook. Finally I find it, flipping it open and all I see if a messy scrawl
scribbled all over the pages. A sense of panic surges through me as I stare at
the endless notes on possible leads and various supernatural creatures that
could be in Beacon Hills. I bite my lip, trying to breathe in slowly,
desperately trying to contain my freak out. This is Stiles’ notebook, and if I
have his notebook then that means that he more than likely has mine and I hope
to God he hasn’t opened it yet.
I grab my keys off of my desk and
run down the stairs of my house. I’m out the front door and in the driver’s seat
of my car within a minute. I pull out of the driveway and make my way to
Stiles’ as quickly as possible. I pull up in front of his house, jumping out of
the car and slamming the door behind me.
I’m panting slightly when I get to
the front door, banging against the wood loudly. I tap my foot anxiously,
waiting for Stiles to open the door. Finally, the door budges and I see Stiles
staring back at me in surprise.
“I have your notebook, figured you
might need it.” I say quickly, holding it up to show him and he quirks an
eyebrow at me.
“Come on in.” He turns away from the
door and I hurry in behind him, turning to close the door.
“Right so you probably didn’t even
notice you had the wrong notebook,” I start to say as the door clicks shut and
he presses up against me, pushing my chest tightly against the door. His hands
smoothing over my hips as he moves my hair away from my neck and presses a few
soft kisses to the skin there and I feel like I’m going to melt. “Stiles, what
are you doing?” I ask breathlessly and it comes out in a soft moan and my head
falls back against his shoulder.
“Nothing,” He whispers against me,
his tongue tracing patterns against my skin before tugging my earlobe in
between his teeth. “Just let it happen.”
I try to convince myself to pull
away from him, to stop this and find out why he’s doing this, but all I can
think about is how good his hands feel against my body. He slides his hands up,
cupping my breasts in his hands, squeezing them gently and I let out a mewl of
pleasure. I can feel him harden as he presses roughly against me, his erection
digging into my hip before he turns me around to face him.
I look at his face, searching for
answers but all I can see are his eyes dark with lust; staring back at me as if
he had been wandering the desert and I was the only thing that could quench his
His hips press against mine as he
leans towards me, pausing for a moment just millimeters from my lips, flicking
his gaze up to meet mine as if to see if I’m going to stop his and I bite my
lip unintentionally. A look of pure lust washes over his face and a low growl
escapes from this back of his throat before he slams his lips against mine. I
wrap my arms around his neck, and he grabs the back of my thighs, lifting me up
as if I weight nothing. I lock my legs around his waist and he keeps me pressed
tightly against the wall, pinning me there.
He tugs on my bottom lip with his
teeth, sucking on it and I moan against his lips. He uses the opportunity to
slip his tongue into my mouth, battling against mine before exploring the
inside of my mouth as if he wants to taste every inch of me. My hands make
there way from the nape of his neck into his hair and I fist my hands into his
messy brown hair, causing him to groan in appreciation.
He holds onto me tightly, walking us
up the stairs, his lips never disconnecting from mine. When we get up to the
second floor he makes his way across the hall, kicking the door to him room
open. He drops me onto his bed and I lie there panting slightly.
“Stiles,” I whisper, still trying to
catch my breath and his lips are on mine again, silencing me. His begins
kissing along my jaw and down my neck and I tilt my head to allow him better
access. “We need to talk about this.” I say, barely able to get the words out
before I moan again.
“No we don’t,” He mumbles against
me, “Think about it later.”
He continues kissing down my neck,
pulling down the collar of my t-shirt before planting a few soft kisses along
my clavicles, and tracing his tongue along where the bone is visible. His hands
slip under my t-shirt, his warm hands caressing up my stomach before he tugs it
over my head.
Once my shirt is off he looks at me
in awe, my bra pushing up my breasts making them swell, and he begins tracing
his thumbs over the simple black lace. He nips gently at the newly exposed
skin, sliding his tongue down along the valley of my breasts and I whimper. I
arch my back and his hands reach around me to unclasp my bra and pull it off of
“Holy shit, you’re fucking
gorgeous.” He groans and I can feel a blush coloring my face. He presses his
hands against my chest, kneeding my breasts and I can feel my nipples harden
under his hands. He takes a hardened peak into his mouth, sucking on it and I
moan, dragging my hand through his hair before pressing his face tightly
against me. “You’re tits are fucking perfect.” He rasps, his voice thick with
lust as he takes my other nipple in his mouth and all I can do is moan in
“I’ve wanted to do this for so
long.” He moans, trailing open mouth kisses down my stomach and I whimper. In
one smooth motion he’s pulled my skirt and panties down, leaving me bare to
him. I shiver as the cold air hits my core where wetness is quickly pooling.
He sucks roughly against my hip,
leaving a dark purple mark before repeating the same action on the other side.
His lips work over the inside of my thighs and I squirm in anticipation of him
getting to where I need him most. Slowly, his mouth moves nearer and nearer to
“Stiles, please,” I plead, my need
for him mixing with desperation.
“What’s wrong baby girl?” He
breathes against me and I shudder at the feeling of his hot breath against my
center. “Tell me what you need.”
“Anything,” I whimper, begging him,
“Please just do anything.”
He sticks his tongue out, licking
slowly along my slit from my core to my clit and I shudder against him. He
continues sliding his tongue along me languidly, as if he has all the time in
the world and it feels like complete torture. I buck my hips against him,
desperate for more, and he uses his hands to hold my thighs down as he
continues his sweet torture.
He swirls his tongue around my
bundle of nerves and I let out a loud gasp, my head lurching forward as my back
arches off of the bed. “You taste so fucking sweet,” He mumbles against my
core, sending vibrations shooting through me and I writhe against him. He
slides a finger into me, keeping rhythm with his tongue and my eyes roll back
into my head at the sensation.
“Won’t you make some more of those
pretty noises I love so much, baby girl?” He asks, curling his fingers inside
of me to hit that perfect spot and I let out a loud moan. He pulls his fingers
out of me, reaching them out to my lips, offering to me and I open my mouth
slightly. He slips his fingers into my mouth and I slide my tongue around them,
sucking against his fingers and he looks at me, his mouth slightly wide.
“Holy fuck that was the hottest
thing I’ve ever seen.” He says, returning his mouth to my core and I wrap my
legs around his head. He continues licking, sucking, and flicking his tongue
over me, making it impossible for me to contain my moans when he pulls away
from me suddenly and I whimper at the loss of contact.
He pulls me towards him, pressing
his lips to mine, slipping his tongue inside of my mouth and I can taste myself
on him. I capture his tongue with my lips and suck on it, making him moan
against my mouth. His moan triggers something in me and I tear his clothes off
of him. His shirt goes flying across the room as I tug at his pants and boxers,
throwing them to the floor once they’re off of him.
His erection springs up proudly and
my eyes widen slightly. I grasp his length in my hands and lets out a sharp
intake of breath. I lick a stripe up along the underside of his cock before
swirling my tongue around his tip and he moans, his eyes fluttering closed. I take
him into my mouth, sliding him all the way to the back of my throat and he
thrusts hard against my mouth. I bob my head against him, hollowing out my
cheeks and I slide him in and out of my throat, pressing my tongue along a
prominent veins and he shudders.
“Your mouth feels so good, baby
girl,” He groans and I moan at the nickname. The sound sends vibrations
shuddering through him and he bucks his hips against me. I pull him out of my
mouth slowly, sliding my hand up and down his length, pumping his firmly before
taking his length back fully into my mouth. “I’m going to come,” He pants and I
can feel him twitching in my mouth before a warm liquid trickles into the back
of my throat and he throws his head back as his orgasm crashes over him. I
slide my tongue along him, licking ever drop of his release before pulling him
out of my mouth with a pop.
“Fuck, I knew you had a wicked mouth
but I didn’t realize you could do that,” He pants and I smirk at him. He pulls
me towards him, flipping us so that I’m underneath him. “Don’t worry baby girl,
I’m going to take good care of you.” He whispers against the shell of my ear,
pumping his cock a few times before lining himself up with my entrance.
He slides into me, slowly, and I moan
loudly. “You’re so fucking tight.” He breathes out in a pant as he slides out
of me and back in and I whimper.
“Fuck, Stiles, I need you.” I say,
wrapping my legs around his hips and he begins pounding into me. I lift my hips
up in rhythm to his thrusts, making it to where he hits that perfect spot deep
within me every time and I drag my nails roughly down his back. He holds onto
the headboard tightly with one hand, the leverage allowing him to thrust even
more deeply into me.
I can feel the pressure building
inside of me, a fine sheen of sweat lining his forehead as he continue to slam
into me. I look up at him through half lidded eyes, and he flips us again so
that I’m straddling him. I roll my hips against him, riding him quickly and he
one hand against my breast while the other hand is quickly rubbing against my
clit, quickly bringing me closer and closer to my release.
“F-fuck, yes, just like that,
Stiles,” I moan, my voice coming out raspy and he leans up slightly to replace
the hand on my breast with his mouth. He sucks on my nipple roughly as he
applies more pressure to my bundle of nerves and all at once my orgasm slams
into me. I clench around him, throwing my head back and screaming his name
repeatedly, as he continues to thrust into me to prolong my orgasm. My orgasm
pushes him over the edge and I can feel him twitch inside me as he begins to
pulsate. His eyes close tightly as he comes undone underneath me, releasing with
a shudder. He slumps back against the bed and I roll off of the top of him
trying to capture my breath.
He wraps his arms around me, pulling
me towards him as my chest rises and falls rapidly.
“Holy shit that was amazing,” I say,
my voice barely louder than a breathless whisper, “It’s like you knew just how
I like it.”
“I read your notebook,” He admits
guiltily, pressing a kiss to my temple and I choke on a breath.
“Oh my god you read it?” I ask, embarrassment flooding my face and he lets out a
“What do you think gave me the
courage to make a move?” He asks and I shrug, “Besides, it was probably the
most useful research I’ve ever
stumbled across.” He adds, capturing my lips with him and I kiss him back
“So, can we talk about everything
now?” I ask hesitantly and he nuzzles his face into my neck.
“What’s there to talk about? You’re
mine now and forever. You’ve always been mine.” He mumbles against my skin and
my heart drops into the pit of my stomach at his words.
“Just how I like it.” I whisper,
cuddling in closer to him, and he presses soft kisses into my neck before
pulling a blanket over us.
🌚 why you should not be friends with any of the types 🌚
DISCLAIMER: i feed on stereotypes so pls do not be hurt of the feelings ALSO DISCLAIMER: salt
isfj: every cookie they bake is laced with unspeakable sorrow. you are obese. dudley dursley looks waifish next to you. you cannot move except to raise cookies to your mouth. they emerge from the kitchen with more. they smile.
esfj: they have too many other friends who adore them too much. you are reduced to fighting in the hunger games with all the esfj’s other friends.
istj: they are fluffy friends who care about you. you plan a dinner to thank them. you ask them, “saturday sound okay?” crossing a slot off their planner, they reply, “for 1 hour, 42 minutes, and 17 seconds, i will be at your leisure.”
estj: like an amoeba they absorb you. at first you protest, but soon you find yourself getting brainwashed and drawn, fibre by slow fibre, into their army of mindless minions.
infp: they are super nice lil worms, but have you ever thought to ask them why they always wear that one oversized extra-baggy jacket? the pockets are full of knives. and old grudges
enfp: they become like a sister to you then they leave you and move to singapore with two weeks’ notice. 0/10 would not recommend
infj: they wear so much black eyeliner that you’re never really sure what they’re thinking. which is probably good, because you probably don’t want to know what they’re thinking. (psst they’re reading your mind)
enfj: do you really want to be suffocated with hugs? cause that’s how you get suffocated with hugs
istp: you see them leaning on a graffiti-ridden wall. you say “hey howve you been–” silence. behind their sunglasses you detect a flicker as of some long-sleeping dragon awakening to spit a first tentative lick of flame. you back away.
estp: you are reduced to a sidekick and a wingman, watching with tears in your eyes as the estp takes everything you love. you can never be cooler than them. you will be a footnote in the annals of coolness.
isfp: they wish to understand the meaning of life, and that is a quest upon which they must embark alone.
esfp: you’re not good enough for them. you are not worthy to share the space on the yoga mat which is their sole possession in the whole wide world. that’s it. that’s the only reason
intp: at 2 AM your phone buzzes. you pick it up groggily. the notification from the intp reads: “Remember the Alamo!” you text back “what the fuck”. there is no reply. only silence. only the void.
entp: they trick you into telling them your deepest, darkest secret. then they make puns about it. layers upon layers of puns. onion puns. save me im drowning
intj: like diogenes, they prefer you to not approach them lest you stand in the way of their sunlight complete solitude. unlike diogenes, they live in a fortified stronghold with a crocodile-filled moat.
entj: their laugh is just really creepy. like, on a scale of one to megalomaniac, RUN WHILE YOU STILL CAN
My first entry in this new, possibly limited, possibly permanent series:
Both RK were no-shows @ The Met Gala.
Wonder if this is the new trend or was this year the anomaly? Kristen has only skipped one other year, 2015 due to a Chanel fashion show conflict.
That was also the first year Rob actually attended the Gala other than being close by to spend after party time with Kristen.
We now know that Rob was unlikely to have an invite to the Gala prior to his working relationship with Dior and The Met Gala isn’t an event you get into without an invite either from Anna Wintour or a fashion house.
Kristen has had the magic key of entry into the exclusive event for years. She had a great excuse not to attend in 2015 and a decent one this year likely blamed on her filming schedule.
Rob,however, had no excuse this year that we know of. There is no work event/schedule that prevented him from attending. However, we also got info about how the RC photogs ignore Met attendees that they don’t recognize no matter how prettily or provocative they may be attired.
Perhaps Rob was not needed for RC duty this year? Just things to think about.
Around 4:30 pm EST & 1:30 LA Time a fanpic of Rob was posted to Facebook: placing Rob in LA
AND then around 12:30 am NOLA time CJ posted a pic of Kristen clearly wearing Rob’s green bomber jacket, placing Kristen in NOLA. CJ’s IG
Are both RK on separate sides of the country? Possibly…once again I’ll remind my followers that post dates don’t equate to actual real-time events.
I think it’s likely they are exactly where these pix place them to be. Kristen after all is filming and Rob does live in LA with his wife & kids even if said wife is away working at the moment.
So that’s the RK News I have for May 1st. We’ll see if there’s anything worthy to share for May 2nd…
Obviously the person on the right. Don’t freak out, I’m not actually Halsey (nor that cool and beautiful haha). Or am I? No, I’m not. I’m just a person who couldn’t find a decent picture of myself which was worthy to share and isn’t like 2 years old or something..
Anika - 22 - Germany.
I’m just your average college students who pretends she knows what she’s doing.
[Pentagon] Reaction to you opening up for the first time
Jinho: I think this little bean would be so touched on this inside that you feel comfortable enough to open up around him. He wouldn’t push you to open either. He would say something along the lines of “Y/N, thank you for trusting me.”
Hui: Hui would get literally touchy-feely. He would hug you so much and so tightly while giving you little kisses. He would be genuinely so happy you trusted him enough to open up your feelings. He would also listen intently if it was something serious.
Hongseok: Hongseok would kiss your forehead lightly and then say something like, “I’m really glad you opened up to me.” Since he is the mom of the group, maybe he would try to offer some advice too. Without trying to make it about him of course.
E’Dawn: E’Dawn wouldn’t say much, but he would listen intently at every word you were saying. He would offer his support in more physical ways, such as rubbing your back or giving you tight hugs. You would know you can trust him to open up again.
Shinwon: Shinwon may fumble with his words a bit. He comes off very cool and trendy, but sometimes he might not have all the right words to say. He would constantly nod as you spoke and show you he’s listening. If you ask for his honest opinion, he’ll give it to you.
Yeo One: Ah yes, the ultimate bf material. So, he would probably know exactly what to say and do. He would provide a sort of “welcoming” environment. He would know when to speak and when to listen. He would show lots of skinship and probably cuddle after, letting you know you can trust him.
Yanan: Yanan would be so shy but sweet about it. He would trip over his world a little bit, but would genuinely feel so so touched that you deemed him worthy of sharing your feelings. He will treasure that and verbally thank you for opening up. He would probably feel he should open up too in return.
Yuto: Yuto wouldn’t know what to say either. Another one who is slick on the outside but so cuddly on the inside. He would give you a tight hug and kiss your cheek once you were done expressing your thoughts. He would show you how much you mean to him and show you he values your feelings.
Kino: He would feel honored that the object of his affection is finally opening up to them. If he knew it was something hard for you to do, he would appreciate it even more. He would probably say something along the lines of, “Thank you so much for putting your trust in me. I won’t take it for granted.”
Wooseok: I think Wooseok would be kind of like E’Dawn. He wouldn’t say much but would remain silent and listen attentively. He would probably want to cuddle or hold you tightly while you opened up to him. This would be his way of letting you know he’s comfortable to be around, and it’s okay to open up.
Summer was coming up, and you couldn’t wait. You had this tradition where you went to Disneyland every July for a weekend, either with your family or friends. You and Grayson had been dating for over a year now, and had been friends before that, but he had yet to go to Disneyland with you. You decided one morning in June, that this year you didn’t want to go with a big group, and instead just go with him, and of course Ethan.
“Grayson. Grayson wake uppppp,” you whined as you hesitantly poked his cheek. “Omg, Gray, are you dead?” You poked him again. “Gray, no! You can’t die! Come ba- AAUgh,” you screamed when he suddenly moved. “It’s awake,” you practically crowed. “The sleeping beast lives! And speaking of sleeping and beasts, we’re going to disneyland!!”
He groaned, and rubbed his eyes as he slowly sat up. “Babe, what? You gotta slow down. It’s still, like, the morning. Why am I even awake?” He asked, and you just sighed, before crawling onto the bed with him and curling into his side as he lay back down. He smiled, satisfied, and tightened his arms around you.
“Wait, Gray, don’t fall asleep yet. Hear me out, and then I promise we can sleep for a couple more hours,” you pleaded. He sleepily opened one eye.
“Okay. What’s going on?”
“Well…” you responded. “So I have this tradition..”
The day had finally come. You Grays, and E were all in the car, heading towards Disneyland. You, however, were pouting in the backseat, despite your excitement about the trip. Grayson was driving, and Ethan had stolen shotgun from you, and so now you were sitting alone in the back and the boys were teasing. You childishly kicked E’s seat before turning away. “Babe, don’t be like that,” Grayson laughed. You said nothing. At the next gas station, Grayson bought you donuts, and the rest of the drive went smoothly.
“I wanna ride Splash Mountain!” You practically shrieked, as you ran into the park, Gray and E walking behind you. “And then space mountain and then the teacups and then the carousel and then the train and then the bobsleds and then-”
You were cut off by Grayson. “Woah, babe, slow down! We have 3 days! We can go to all those, and more! Okay, you’ll be fine. Calm down. But for now… Off to splash mountain!!”
You laughed as Grayson held his phone at an awkward angle to fit everybody into the selfie with Cinderella. “Wait! Cinderella! Where is your Prince Charming?” Ethan gasped dramatically. You rolled your eyes, before turning to Gray. “He’s desperate,” you laughed. Grayson laughed too, then picked you up princess style. “He’s jealous of us. We already have a fairytale” said Grayson. You smiled at him. “Yep. And you’re my Prince Charming.” You told him, at which point you shared a kiss worthy of a fairytale ending.
My Jared photo-op was the most amazing and emotional experience of my existence.
Some of you may know my story, some may not, but most of you can assume that it has to do with AKF and you’re absolutely right. To put it in the simplest way I can: Sam Winchester saved my life six years ago when he sacrificed himself for the world, but Jared Padalecki gave me my life back when he opened up about his depression last year.
I had been looking forward to this moment since the premiere of “Swan Song” and it was finally happening at NashCon. When they called for the Jared-ops, my legs were trembling as I walked up the stairs. I stood in the long line alternating between crying and shaking and when I finally saw him, just more than an arm’s length away from me, I didn’t know what to do.
When it was my turn for the photo I somehow managed to walk up to him. He smiled down at me (dimplesdimplesdimples) and leaned down to be eye-level. Green and browns swirl together in those eyes. He said, “Hi!” in the kindest voice and I immediately started crying. The next thing I knew he had cupped my head with his hand (and his hand takes up my entire head) and pulled me into the tightest hug of my life. I apologized four or five times into his chest and he said, “No, no, no, doll, it’s alright.” (!!!!!)
There was a fifteen second time span where it was just him looking down at me and I realized (after that fifteen seconds) that he wanted to know what I wanted to do for the picture. I apologized (again) and he laughed, so kindly, and told me it was okay. I asked him for a hug and he grinned real big (dimplesdimplesdimples) and answered, “Absolutely.”
He pulled me back into a hug, the one you see here, and Chris snapped the picture. I was crying again - being in Jared’s arms for just a moment was too much - and I thanked him quickly, knowing he had more pictures to take.
But as I was walking away he grabbed my hand in his and pulled me back into yet another hug. When he pulled back he looked down at me, still holding my hand (he has a callus on his right ring finger), he said, “You look beautiful. Do you have any other pictures or the autographs later?” I told him I had a picture with him and Jensen later and then autographs and he went, “Awesome. I’ll see you then, okay?” and then he blew me one of those two-handed kisses he does.
Jared is the most genuine and kind and comforting person in the entire world and my life has been changed for the better because of him and everything he does and not a day will ever go by that I won’t look at this picture and be eternally grateful for him and everything he’s done.