“Fancy meeting you here.” Harry watched amusedly as Malfoy whirled around in surprise and almost dropped his champagne flute.
“Potter.” He sounded breathless, caught off guard. “I thought you were in Egypt on some mission.”
Harry cocked his head to one side and gave Malfoy a quizzical glance.
“I see you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”
“That’s not-” Malfoy’s cheeks turned rosy as he quickly looked away. “Your name is always all over the paper.”
“This was a secret mission,” Harry replied, trying not to snicker.
“Yeah, well… It’s- it’s hard to escape you. People talk about you everywhere. Everywhere!”
“Sure,” Harry said, taking a sip of champagne.
“Auror Potter! Auror Potter!” A small, middle-aged man behind Malfoy began waving frantically at Harry, almost jumping up and down in his excitement.
“Oh no,” Harry muttered. Malfoy took a look over his shoulder and rolled his eyes.
“Auror Potter! We didn’t expect you to be back so soon,” the middle-aged man said, clasping one of Harry’s hands and shaking it vigorously.
“Mister Franklin,” Harry said, barely able to hide his annoyance.
“You were on a mission I presume? Was it undercover? Did it go well?”
Harry sighed and briefly closed his eyes.
“Mister Franklin, a gala is hardly the place for an interview, is it?”
Mister Franklin chuckled and clasped Harry’s hand even tighter.
“You know how it is with us reporters, we never rest.”
“Oh yes, I know,” Harry said. “However, I am currently unavailable for a statement.”
“But Auror Potter-”
“If you will excuse me, Mister Franklin,” Harry interrupted him, freeing his hand from the other man’s grip and placing it on Malfoy’s back. “I have important business to attend to.”
He ignored the incredulous looks Mister Franklin and Malfoy were giving him and pushed through the crowd. Harry noticed how Malfoy’s body twitched under his touch. It made Harry’s stomach flip. He hadn’t planned to be so bold but escaping a reporter from the Daily Prophet always took priority.
He hoped Mister Franklin wasn’t following them. But even if he left them alone, almost every other person in the room was sure to assault Harry sooner or later. But he couldn’t leave yet. He had promised Kingsley he’d stay at least two hours. And now, after bumping into Malfoy, he had another reason to stay.
When Harry spotted the double doors leading to one of the balconies, he let out a sigh of relief. That could work. He gently pushed Malfoy outside, who was completely flustered at this point.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he snapped, slapping Harry’s hand away and smoothing down his robes.
“What? I really didn’t want to talk to that reporter,” Harry said shrugging.
“But why did you drag me along with you?” Malfoy studied him suspiciously and Harry noticed how he was clutching his champagne flute.
“I wanted to keep talking to you,” Harry said, surprised Malfoy had to ask.
“And what gave you the impression I wanted to keep talking to you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Harry said, knitting his eyebrows together. “Feel free to go. It wasn’t my intention to bring you out here against your will.”
Malfoy narrowed his eyes. After a moment, he turned and walked to the edge of the balcony, resting his elbows against the railing.
It took Harry a moment to realise Malfoy wasn’t leaving after all. He was waiting for Harry to join him. Harry made sure the goofy smile had somewhat vanished before he stepped up beside Malfoy, mimicking his pose, and looked out to the garden below.
“It’s a little bit like Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it?” Harry said, relishing the sudden quietness around them.
Malfoy let out a snort and Harry was pretty sure he was rolling his eyes.
“For that you’d have to be standing down there, you knobhead.”
“I didn’t mean… I just meant the setting reminds me of-” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you’d want me to be standing down there, serenading you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Malfoy muttered. But Harry had the impression his cheeks were getting pinker by the second. “Besides, Romeo didn’t serenade Juliet.”
“He didn’t? Huh. I thought he did,” Harry said frowning. “Well that’s good I guess. I’m rubbish at singing.”
There was a long silence after that and Harry wondered what Malfoy was thinking about. He heard him take a deep breath before he finally spoke again.
“I guess we are a bit like Romeo and Juliet.”
Harry looked at him in astonishment.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, our families weren’t exactly enemies but I have often wondered what would have happened if my father hadn’t- if it weren’t for my father…maybe it wouldn’t have been impossible. Or forbidden.”
“Forbidden,” Harry repeated dumbstruck. “You mean to say…”
“I’m not saying anything,” Malfoy said quickly, clamping his mouth shut.
“I think you just did,” Harry insisted, giving the other man a toothy grin. “I have to admit, when I saw you tonight I didn’t think it would lead up to this.”
Malfoy didn’t reply and just stared at the fountain in the middle of the garden below them.
“It’s not too late, you know,” Harry said quietly. “We could still… well, how about we start with dinner?”
“Dinner?” Malfoy sounded skeptical. When he gulped down the rest of his champagne, Harry couldn’t contain a snicker.
“Dinner.” He turned to Malfoy and bit his lip. “All you have to do is say yes.”
When Malfoy didn’t say anything, Harry tentatively moved his hand down the railing and placed it on the other man’s.
“Just say yes.”
Harry watched as the corner’s of Malfoy’s mouth twitched and his body gave a little shiver.
“It’s that easy?”
“Yes,” Harry said. Malfoy cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the garden while his lips stretched into a smile.
“Is that a yes?” Harry asked. Malfoy turned his head to look at him, his eyes shining brightly.
Where did all those feelings go? People spend their whole lives looking for love. Poems and songs and entire novels are written about it. But how can you trust something that can end as suddenly as it begins?
i drew Emperor Hux to go with my Senator Amidala. i know i said i wasn’t gonna draw him butttttttttttttttttttttt-how could i not? i have another without the laurel but i really wanted it to stay even though i drew it so horribly. LOL
It was a Hogwarts reunion, and Harry was standing on his own, away from the crowd with a butterbeer in hand. He hadn’t wanted to come, actually, because Ron and Hermione were still away on their honeymoon and Luna was on her Women’s Rights project tour thing that Harry kept forgetting the name of, and he had trouble recognizing anyone’s faces. (Or he didn’t want to.)
He almost contemplated leaving all-together when he suddenly spotted the last person he wanted to see - Draco Malfoy.
Something twisted in his gut.
He hadn’t seen Draco since their last… date? (Could it be called a date? When all they had done was make out and, well, had sloppy handjobs?) That had been almost two years ago.
Before Harry could drop his beer and run, Draco had turned around, his face turning to one of absolute glee - fuck. He’d been spotted.
“Potter!” Draco called, and he quickly made his way through the crowd. The closer he got the angrier Harry felt, because fuck, Draco hadn’t changed at all, just as tall and smug and frankly, the prettiest guy Harry’d had the misfortune to meet. “Fancy that.”
“Draco,” Harry mumbled, tipping his glass forward in a way of saying, cheers, “fancy that.”
Draco was wearing this tight excuse for a jeans, hugging him in all the right places - or the wrong ones, depending on who’d you ask - and his shirt was almost obscene, so small it made Harry want to rip it off. (With his teeth.) And, fuck, he was still so tall, almost four inches taller than he was, and it wasn’t fair, it was as if Draco wanted to rub it in his face that he was better, smarter, sexier than Harry could ever dream to be.
“So,” Draco said after a while of uncomfortable silence, “why did you never floo me?”
Harry whipped his head up to look at him. If he didn’t know any better, it seemed as if Draco was nervous. “What?”
“You never floo’d me.” He grinned, his eyes not cooperating. “We had that date, which had gone pretty well, and you said you’d get in contact, but…”
“Oh.” Harry quickly averted his gaze, his heart in his throat. How to explain to Draco, without sounding like a complete embarrassing idiot, why he’d never had the guts to contact him again?
Draco sighed deeply, leaning against the wall behind them, and Harry wanted to drool at the sight of him but dammit Harry now is not the time - “No need to spare my feelings, Potter, it’s fine -”
“No, no!” Harry took a deep breath, averting his gaze again. It was an embarrassing reason, but Draco deserved to know. Right? “I… look, you were a sex god, alright?”
Draco choked on his laughter, “what?”
“I’m serious.” Harry looked back at him, unable to hide a smile. “You were all legs and smirks and confidence, and - god, it felt thrilling, alright? The date… fuck, Draco,” he shook his head, knowing he was rambling now but he couldn’t help it, not with Draco looking at him like that, “your kiss, it felt like a wet dream come true.”
Draco pushed himself off the wall, his expression unreadable. “Then why didn’t you floo me?”
“Because I..” Harry cleared his throat, averting his eyes again. He wanted to look at Draco, but god, did it hurt. “You looked like that while I’m. Well.” He laughed bitterly, gesturing to himself. “While I look like this. I didn’t understand how you could’ve enjoyed this, other than just to, I don’t know, be able to say that you ‘did it’ with the savior. So I saved myself the trouble of getting my heart broken and -”
Then, suddenly, faster than Harry could call out, Draco had him pinned against the wall - his hands beside Harry’s head, his knee pressed between Harry’s legs and his face so close it was all Harry could see.
“What,” Draco said, no - growled, his eyes almost glowing with anger. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about you, you don’t get to walk away without -”
“Draco,” Harry interrupted, wanting to sound as angry but unable to find the strength because Draco was all around him, and no matter what happened, that still took his breath away. “Don’t -”
“Don’t what, Potter?” Draco’s eyes glinted. “You say you’re not good enough for me?”
“I -” well, yes.
“That you’re not sexy enough for me? That I’ll drop you as soon as I realize that you’re not beautiful enough?”
Harry opened his mouth, only to close it again. Well, yes.
Draco growled again, a sound so deep in his chest that Harry could feel it in his bones. “How dare you,” he threatened, leaning in closer and closer, “you idiot. You are the most infuriatingly dense git I have ever met.” Draco’s eyes were shining, almost mad, and Harry should just walk away but he couldn’t, he was trapped but he wanted to be, because fuck, it was Draco. “You, Potter,” he seethed, “are the most beautiful git I have ever seen.”
Harry shivered. “Draco, don’t -”
“Shut up.” Draco’s face was now so close Harry could feel his breath, could hear his heartbeat. “You don’t get to say how I feel about you, you idiot, not when you are so incredibly wrong. You call me a sex god,” he snorted, “while you look like the bloody sexiest guy I’ve -”
“Draco, please.” Harry felt like he had never been this red in his life. “Stop, I -”
“Stop?” He laughed, almost giddy with anger. “I’m afraid I can’t, sweetheart,” his hands turned to grip Harry’s hair in a tight grip, his hips snapping forward to grind with Harry’s, “not as if my life depended on it.”
Then Draco’s lips were on his, hot and needy and harsh, almost desperate, and Harry’s knees sagged.
Warnings: Like lots of fluff. Jensen and the reader acting like children.
Summary: Reader is an actress on the show Supernatural, and is attending a convention in Houston, when she misses her flight back home, and ends up stranded in Texas. Her Co-Star, Jensen Ackles, being the gentleman he is, offers to let her stay with him and his family in Dallas. Y/N and Jensen are barely work friends, let alone close enough spend a week together at Jensen’s childhood home. Seeing Jensen with his family might just change how the reader feels about her “just on screen” love interest.
A/N: Eeeep! I don’t know if you know, but I’m so damn excited as to where this story is headed! Thank you to my other half @highonpastries for being my wonderful beta <3 Don’t know what I’d do without her.
Disclaimer: (I can’t believe I have to include this), LIKE ALL FICTION, this is fake. I have no idea what Jensen or his family is like. I try to keep people and places as close to real life as possible, but like I said this is fiction, and is losely based off of my ex-boyfriend and I’s relationship.
I hate birds. You internally groaned. It’s too early to be this goddamn loud. You squeezed your eyes tighter, trying your best to ignore their heinous chirping with little success. You scowled, eyes still shut cursing the God that decided birds are morning people. You went to roll to your other side when you realized your movement had been restricted by a pair of strong warm arms wrapped around your torso, that only squeezed you tighter as you moved.
Your eyes shot straight open, as you laid as still as possible. You shifted feeling Jensen pressed up against your entire backside, his face snuggled into the back of your neck, your legs intertwined, his firm chest covering your back, arms wrapped around you, your ass pressed against his…
You panicked, not wanting Jensen to wake up forcing you both into an awkward apology session, and slowly began to fight the bear hug you were wrapped in. You pulled against Jensen, rolling towards the end of the bed, untangling your legs from his, trying to hook them at the edge of the bed to use for leverage.
You tugged harder.
Jensen hugged you tighter.
You tugged, putting all your strength into it.
Jensen let go.
And you fell to the floor with a hard thud, the cold morning air hitting you instantly. Jensen moaned at the commotion, rolling over to his other side, still blissfully asleep. You got up off the ground, glaring at the sleeping man that was the cause of your pain, and checking your phone to see what time it was.
Six thirty-two? What the hell, Birds?!?
You reached into your bag, mentally kicking yourself for deciding to travel light to HoustonCon. You looked around the room and noticed a wooden dresser in the corner, under a signed 1996 Dallas Cowboys Super Bowl poster.
The drawer creaks open loudly, and you check to see if it woke up Jensen. It didn’t. He was still passed out. You riffled through the old clothes, finally settling when you found a gray sweatshirt with ‘Berkner Bell Guard’ printed on the front in bold green font, and ‘Ackles’ scribbled in a fancy white print.
You slipped the sweatshirt over your head, it stopping just above the end of your shorts. You examined the items on top of the dresser, finding, a few blue ribbons, hanging on acting trophies, a couple old pictures of Jensen at homecoming or prom, your eyes finally landing on a BHS ‘95-’96 year book.
Bingo. Let’s figure out what the hell a Bell Guard is. You thought to yourself, pulling the dusty book into your arms.
You quietly made your way downstairs and outside into the chilly Dallas air. You sat down gently onto the wooden swing you saw under the big oak tree the day before. You wrapped your arms around the two ropes holding the swing up for balance, placing the yearbook in your lap, and began flipping through the pages.
You flipped through the black and white pages, pictures of people smiling back at you covering them. You finally found a picture of Jensen in an intense stance, wearing a baseball helmet and holding a up a bat behind his head. Senior, Jensen Ackles, warms up to hit one out of the park!
Lame caption. You thought flipping to the next page. Senior representative, Jensen Ackles, advocates for student rights! Jensen was sitting at the head of a table, arms out like he was trying to explain something, under the big block letters that read ‘Student Council’.
The next page Jensen was on was the theatre club page. He was dressed in Elizabethan Era clothing, calling up to a girl in a tower. Senior, Jensen Ackles is our real life Romeo!
You continued to flip through the pages researching your costar’s high schools career, finally landing on the page that had peeked your interest. Bell Guard.
The pages had pictures of Jensen and a couple guys in some sort of pants and shirt uniform, with double stripes going down the sides, lining the clothes. There were three times as many girls in the photos in tight tops and skirts. In the first photo at the top of the page, the guys were lined up in a single row, standing in the back, with girls squatting, sitting, and laying down in the rows in front of them.
Below that picture was a photo of some sort of human pyramid, with Jensen and a few of the other guys at the base, lifting the other girls into the air. On the next page was a close up of Jensen and another girl on the team in the same position: Hands in fists, one resting on the hip, the other straight in the air. Seniors, Jensen Ackles and Kaylee Williams, cheer on our boys at the big game!
“Jensen was a cheerleader?” You laughed, unable to stop the wide smile on your face. In the bottom corner were two separate portraits of a petite blonde girl and Jensen, side by side, the label ‘Captains’ above them.
I love Bell Guard! My favorite part is learning new tricks and routines, and finding new ways to work as a team! - Co-Captain, Jensen Ackles
“Whatcha readin’?” Jensen asked, causing you to jump. You hadn’t anticipated he be up this early, you would’ve anticipated he died sooner than getting up at seven in the morning with a hangover you were sure he had.
“Dammit, Jensen! You scared the shit out of me!” You said turning to look at him.
He still had bed head, his hair standing straight on its end. At least he had put on a pair of gray sweatpants, a white t-shirt, and a sweater.
“Coffee?” He offered holding out a mug to you.
“Depends,” You squinted at him. “Is it black?”
“Nope,” He smiled. “I put my mom’s fancy raspberry creamer in it for you.”
“Thank you.” You smiled back at him, gladly accepting the warm mug, and taking a sip. “Mmm.” You moaned.
“See you found my old sweatshirt.”
“It was cold.”
“Ahh.” He nodded. “So, what did you find?”
“Uh,” You said looking down in your lap. “Your high school yearbook.”
“What year?” He asked, sitting down in the dewy grass.
“Senior year.” He nodded. “Found anything good?”
“Besides the fact that you were a cheerleader,” You sighed. “It would seem the yearbook editor had a hard on for you.”
“Okay, one, I wasn’t in there that much.” He rolled his eyes, “And two, I was not a cheerleader.”
“One,” You mocked, “Yes you were, and every caption romanticized the shit out of you, and two, yes you were! You cheered on the team! You were a cheerleader! The only thing missing were pom poms!”
“We only used pom poms at pep assemblies.” You raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of coffee, as a look of horror spread across his face. “Oh my God, I was a friggin’ cheerleader!”
“Yup!” You nodded. “And you were co-captain.”
“Jesus Christ,” he swore. “I was also on the baseball team, does it mention that?”
“It does, but I didn’t find a baseball sweatshirt, I found a cheerleading sweatshirt.” You smirked.
“Yeah ya did.” He smiled to himself. He took a sip of his coffee before rubbing his forehead and looking back up at you. “How, uh, how drunk did I get last night? Did Nesnej come out?”
“Nes-what?” You raised an eyebrow at him.
“That’s what I call my alter, drunk, ego. Nesnej. It’s Jensen spelt backwards.”
“Gotcha.” You nodded. “And, uh, kinda. How much do you remember?”
“I think I remember everything, but I think I had a dream that we sang together last night.”
“That was real.”
“Did we meet Billy Joel?”
“That was a dream.” You laughed.
“Ahh, okay.” He licked his lips. “Sorry if I was too clingy last night. Jared tells me I’m an affectionate drunk.”
“It’s fine.” You shrugged. “I don’t think the fan we met minded.”
“We met a fan last night?” His eyes widened.
“Yeah, lemme check and see if she posted the photo anywhere.” You took your phone out of the sweatshirt pocket, unlocking it and tapping on instagram, and heading to your tagged photos. You were use to being tagged in reposts by fans, so you had to search a little to finally find the photo the girl took of you and Jensen.
Met 2 members the cast of Supernatural last night! #daitlynisreal #thirdwheeling #ishipit @jensenackles @Y/IG/H was I crashing your date??
Your heart lept out of your chest as you read the tags. You guys weren’t a real couple, and you couldn’t have people thinking that. You didn’t realize when you accepted Jensen’s invitation that it would look a lot like you guys were dating. You weren’t. Jensen was just being nice and giving you a place to stay for a week.
“Found it?” Jensen asked pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Uh, yeah.” You smiled handing him the phone. “Surprisingly you don’t look as smashed as you were.”
“Daitlyn is real?” He scrunched his forehead, handing the phone back to you. “Who’s Daitlyn?”
“It’s us,” you rolled your eyes at him. “It’s the ship name for our characters, Dean and Kaitlyn.”
“Ah.” He raised his eyebrows. “And I’m assuming this is a popular ‘ship’?”
“Yep.” You nodded. “Though not nearly as popular as Destiel.”
“Oh, yeah, I know that one.” He nodded. “I know that one a little too well.”
“It’s Misha’s OTP.” You teased.
“I don’t know what that means, but if I know Misha, I want nothing to do with it.” He shook his head. You giggled, tugging on the sleeves of Jensen’s sweatshirt and looking down at the photo of you, Jensen, and the fan in your lap, causing you to smile.
“Well, I don’t know about you,” Jensen said breaking the comfortable silence. “But I’m starving.”
You nodded slipping your phone into your pocket and pulling the year book up against your chest. “Me too.”
“Great.” He smiled, standing up off the ground. “Let’s go make some breakfast. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”
“Yep!” He grinned holding out a hand to help you stand from the swing, which you gladly accepted. He took the yearbook from you, still open to the page displaying his glory days, shaking his head. “I swear if you tell anyone about this-”
“Oh don’t worry, I already tweeted about it.” You smiled.
“You are so dead.” You took a that as your queue to run full speed towards the front door, Jensen dropping the yearbook and coffee cups in the grass to chase after you.
“Gimme your phone!” He called after you.
“Never!” You yelled back. You ran as fast as your legs would carry you, knowing good and well you couldn’t out run Jensen. You just had to beat him to the front door and lock him out. You were almost there when you felt Jensen grab your waist, lifting you into the air for a moment while you tried to squirm away from him, before he brought you down onto the grass, straddling your body, and pinning both your hands above your head using only one of his large hands.
“Stop!” You giggled, as he reached into your pocket in search for your phone. He managed to dig it out, despite your squirming.
“Password!” He demanded.
“No!” You protested.
“Tell me your password!” He repeated.
“Or what?” You challenged.
He squinted his eyes down at you, his hands immediately moving to your sides and tickling you.
“Agh! Jensen! Stop it!” You screeched between fits of laughed.
“Just tell me your damn password!” He said tickling you even harder.
“Alright! Alright! I’ll tell you!” You laughed out of breath. “Just stop it!”
He lifted his hands up, still holding your phone into the air. “‘Kay, what is it, sweetheart?”
You let out a small sigh. “Fine. It’s zero, five, fourteen.”
He raised an eyebrow at you. “Isn’t that the day you joined the cast?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Because Jared and I watched your audition that day, and I told casting they’d be crazy not to cast you.”
“Really?” You had no idea he and Jared even watched your audition.
“Yeah, it was between you and some other girl and I knew you were perfect.” He smiled down.
Your heart swelled as you smiled back at him, staring into his gorgeous eyes. You both just looked at each other for a moment, before Jensen cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the task at hand.
You surpressed the laugh bubbling at the back of your throat as Jensen scrolled through your twitter feed, finding absolutely nothing about him.
“You didn’t post anything on here!” He scowled at you. You erupted with laughter, as Jensen continued to glare at you.
“Y-y-you’re just s-so gu-llible!” You managed to squeak out between fits of laughter.
“I am not!” He scowled at you.
“Are too!” You giggled.
“Take that back!”
“Take. It. Back.”
“You’re going to regret that.” He glared. He turned your phone to your Instagram and clicking on live stream, lifting it into the air, and pressing start. “Hey guys, Jensen Ackles here.”
“What are you going?” You said reaching for your phone. Jensen grabbed your hands holding them together, his attention still on the video.
“This is what happens when you’re a punk.” He turned the phone to the side, capturing himself and you in the camera, and pinning your hands back above your head.
“What are you-“
Jensen made the most disgusting sound, insinuating he was getting ready to spit.
“Jensen! Stop it!” You said as he smiled at you getting ready to dangle a glob of spit above your face.
“Jensen! No!” You screamed as his spit hung above your forehead. “Jensen, stop it! Stop! Okay, fine! I take it back! I take it back! You’re not gullible! You’re the least gullible person on the planet!”
He sucked the spit back up, ending the video, smiling victoriously, and let you go. “Good.”
“God, you’re such an ass!” You smacked him. “Now get off of me.”
“I dunno. I kinda like it.” He winked.
“Get off.” You shoved him with all your might, knocking him onto his back. You sat up, taking advantage of the situation, and quickly climbing on top of Jensen, pinning his shoulders to the ground. “Who’s the punk now?”
“Still you, princess.” He smiled. “And as much as I’d enjoy wrestling you, I’m starving.”
A/N: I had a shit night at work, so I’m writing this self-indulgent fic to cheer me up. So if you’re also having a bad night, hopefully this will cheer you up as well! Des: It’s a lazy night, and you enjoy being stuck between your two demonic entities in bed. (Anti x reader x Dark Poly relationship) —————————————————————————————————————-
You insisted on keeping the windows open at night, especially when it was as cool as it was. You could hear the cicadas chirping, and the traffic was slow tonight.
You nuzzled your head into your pillow, enjoying the cool breeze that flowed over the room. Anti wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close to him. Dark rested his mouth on your forehead, one hand on your shoulder to keep contact with you.
It was nice when they were calm. They put aside their differences to sleep with you at night, knowing you enjoyed the company and warmth. They never slept very long or often, but they would rest their eyes and take into account their time with you.
what she actually means:
the book of life is an extremely underrated movie and needs more love asap. It has everything a good story needs. It's about growing up, has action, adventure, MUSIC, humour, romance, strong female and male characters. Hey also it will probably make you cry. Damn like it probably has the best god damn ot3 you'll ever have the pleasure of spending one hour and thirty five minutes with too??? Also did I mention its animation is fucking beautiful?
There were two places in the world you felt oddly safe in;
hiding under the covers of your bed, looking up constellations of the night sky
and the gym your older brother Don Saladino worked at. You understood the
former, but the latter confused you.
You’d always been completely introverted, choosing to speak
with actions rather than words. Of course, manners weren’t particularly thrown
out the window. You always kept a steady conversation to whomever started it.