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microwaving-tesilid-argente · 1 month

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creating a spreadsheet of the trio's lines in the webnovel vs webcomic (as one does), and. i am on the FLOOR their characterisation differs so much from the webnovel and webcomic?!?!??? 😭😭 they took away all of hestio's flavour!!! and Ephael is a lot more stereotypical sunshine too i am losing my mind

Gone:

In the toy mansion, Ephael said that Tesilid was not just his friend, but his "best friend", so Ailette gave him more food. Hestio got very visibly sad and angry.

Whenever they're in battle, Hestio kind of talks to Ephael like he's a P*kemon ("Ephael, go and bite them!" / "Uh... okay.")

Ephael is pretty quiet and subdued throughout the toy mansion, while in the comic he's very artificially cheery.

ALMOST THE ENTIRETY OF HESTIO'S LINES WHEN THEY SNUCK TESILID FOOD IN PRISON IS GONE?!?!?!?? 😭😭😭😭😭😭 THE VIBES ARE SO DIFFERENT

Webnovel has BOTH Hestio and Ephael handing over food (in the webcomic only Ephael brought food. I dunno what Hestio was doing there.)

ONLY the webnovel has Hestio's extremely cute "What? Are you going to refuse the food because the rules are important? (annoyed but also genuinely scared)" / ".....I thought I'd have to shove the food down your mouth if you refused. Well, eat up."

The webcomic has Hestio suddenly ruin the entire mood by saying "🙄😒 did you know 🤓 the vatican is taking things out on you bc you refuse to kill heretics. also idc if the heretics are actually evil or not, what matters is that the vatican wants to know if youre on their side." like stfu please 😭 In the webnovel Hestio only brings this up because Ephael went "cheer up! if it werent for the city making a fuss, the vatican wouldn't have done this" and Hestio corrected him bc he wanted Tesilid not to misunderstand his situation with the Vatican.

What did they make comic!Hestio so callous for !!!!! 😭😭😭 Hestio is a SOFTIE with a mean streak and sharp tongue!!!

#a transmigrator's privilege #the perks of being an s class heroine #vatican trio #hestio ligenel #ephael chaletino #CRYING MY EYES OUT #THEIR NOVEL CHARACTERISATION IS SO CUTE THO?!?!??????#spoilers in next tags #on god if they take away hestio shutting up and ephael taking over the convo in the reunion scene i am going to CRY #that scene is so precious to me?!??#novel dynamic of hestio being the one taking the lead and ephael backing him up is so precious to me #anyway if anyone wants access to the spreadsheet lmk.... sobbing #anw i started this mini project bc ora you said that you couldnt tell who was talking in mirror dungeon (so valid)#and i was like oh the more casual one is eph-- ....is it actually? where did i get this impression #im done w the tutorial arc but its alr making me MISERABLE wym their characterisation changes so much 😭😭😭😭#anw in their childhood they both talk in v similar ways #as adults one of them is casual and the other uses more formal speech patterns #also if any one is cussing either ephael or tesilid out its almost definitely hestio. lol.#by the process of elimination (no one else in the party would be so rude to ephael)#and ephael is generally more chill about tesilid #u cant really tell while reading but ephael very rarely says bad things about tesilid #its usually hestio that's mean about it and hes so loud + ephael doesnt disagree with him so its v easy to attribute it to him too #i mean ephael prob also shares the same thoughts. but its usually hestio voicing it and w that much negativity #ephaels just like lol our boy tesilid is up to his usual hijinks again. haha #while hestio is like UGH this ASSHOLE can you fucking BELIEVE HIM. just LOOK at him what does he think he's doing #ephael (neutral): oh tesilid not again #hestio (screaming and full of hate): tesilid not again!!

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deadsetobsessions · 5 months

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He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.

“Uh.”

“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”

Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.

Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”

Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.

“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”

“Nope!”

“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”

Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.

“Deal.”

“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.

“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.

“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”

“What, you don’t have to do that.”

“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”

“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.

“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”

“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.

When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.

——

“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.

“Cass! What’s up?”

“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.

What…?

Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.

“Huh.”

“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”

“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.

“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.

“Woah!”

Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.

“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.

“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.

She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”

“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”

“Master Danny!”

Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”

Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.

But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?

Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.

Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.

——

“Cass? Why’d you call us?”

“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”

Cass paces.

“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.

“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”

“What.”

“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.

“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”

Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”

“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.

In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.

——

“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”

“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.

“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”

“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.

Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.

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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months

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Do you have any advice and how to write a long fic?

I'll encourage long fic writers to add on in the notes, but as someone who tends to prefer short and medium-length fic, I'll tell you how I go about it.

Get a premise that you just absolutely love. You're going to be writing this thing for months, if not longer, so you want it to be something you're willing to spend a lot of time thinking about.

Embrace subplots. You'll have your main plotline that you want to see through from beginning to end, but you can also weave in some subplots here or there. The way I do this so that I don't get lost down a rabbit hole is that I always make sure that every chapter has at least 1 thing that moves the main plot forward and then if I want to spend 1-2K with some side characters doing something fun I can do that as well. Subplots can extend for the length of the full narrative, but they can also just last a chapter or three. If you're used to writing short fic, these might give you that familiar feeling of "completion"

A chapter is only as long as it needs to be. Don't get hung up on having a consistent chapter length. Don't get hung up on hitting some arbitrary number every time. Instead, figure out what the next part of your story needs to include and write however many words it takes to get that chunk across. Varying your chapter lengths is a normal thing to do and not something to stress about.

The next thing that I find important personally may or may not be relevant to you, but I find that I can't plot anything in much detail. If I get too into the nitty gritty with my plotting, it just feels like I've already written it. I need to keep it at the level of "And then A and B meet C and hijinks ensue." I can figure out the particular hijinks later. It's the characters meeting up that's the next important thing for me to figure out. Getting too far ahead of myself is a death knell for me in writing long fics, but there are other writers who swear by it. Test out different ways of approaching it and see what works for you.

As someone who tends to write more briefly, another feature that's common to longer fics is more extensive descriptions. People spend time painting visual pictures of the setting or the characters or the actions that are happening. Write the more bare-bones style that focuses more on dialogue (if you're like me) and then go back and read through what you've just written and see if there are opportunities to add in more detail. This can lead to some really interesting characterization choices and also help you out with worldbuilding.

When it comes to worldbuilding, you don't have to get it all on the page. You just need to share what's relevant for the reader in that moment and what is useful to lay out now so that it's already there in a future chapter. You can have an encyclopedic knowledge of how your world works in your head, but it's not actually necessary. No one is going to be quizzing you later - and if they do, you can always figure it out at that point.

Most important for me when I'm trying to get myself to the end of a longer fic, have a friend or a group of friends who are also into what you're writing - or at least willing to hear you get excited about it. Being able to get excited about your work is so important. It's like a bottle of water being handed to you on mile 10 of a marathon.

#asks and answers #long fic writers go!#and short fic writers who have successfully written long #how did you go about it?#long post

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karolinanovotneys · 1 year

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it’s our staff party tonight and it will either be the best night of my life or the absolute worst

#molls.txt #most of the work nights out i’ve been on have just happened by accident so i’m terrified to find out what happens when these people #TRY to get fucked up #also i have a genuine fear that jonny is going to spike me for Hijinks #he’s really latched on to the idea of me getting Really Drunk #like taken on responsibility for getting me drunk #i just feel like he is not going to respect me deciding i’m drunk enough #fortunately my colleagues are animals so i will just be able to pass any drinks i dont want to the person next to me

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lovebugism · 4 months

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shy! reader request: eddie & reader having their first sleepover? reader bein all cautious about her actions and if it’s ok and eddie seeing this just lifts up the blankets to the bed to welcome her in to snuggle :)

love love love this request! hope you enjoy :D — eddie tries to make his shy!gf feel at home in his trailer (fluff, new relationship hijinks, 2k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Despite what people say, Eddie Munson does not drive like a maniac.

Correction— Eddie Munson doesn’t drive like a maniac when there’s a pretty girl in his van.

Even though you’re pretty much the first girl to be in his van period (and even though you wouldn’t consider yourself all that pretty), you’re glad to be an exception to the rule. Your panoply of anxieties couldn’t have handled anything more than the passably steady car ride from Benny’s Burgers to Forest Hills.

You don’t mean to let out a sigh of relief when he parks in his driveway.

Eddie grins and unlatches his seatbelt with a soft click at the same time you do. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks with eyes just as wild as his hair.

You shake your head with your lips pursed to the side, then peer at him from beneath your lashes. “After everything Steve said, I was expecting a lot worse,” you confess. And even though you duck away from him, Eddie can still see the small smile on your petaled mouth. Just as quiet as you are.

“Well, one, don’t listen to anything Steve says, okay? Like, ever,” Eddie cajoles lightheartedly. “And two, I don’t drive crazy when I have precious cargo sitting next to me, alright? Stevie’s just jealous ‘cause I think you’re prettier than he is.”

Your nose scrunches as you try to worm your way out of his compliment. “So you think Steve’s pretty?” you tease, already knowing the answer.

He scoffs. “Totally! Just not pretty like you. And don’t tell him I said that either— It’ll just go to his hair.”

The incorrect turn of phrase makes you giggle.

He turns his knees towards the door and curls his fingers around the latch. “Wait for me a second, will ya?” you hear him mumble before he hops to the ground. He slams the door shut behind him and rounds the hood on his way to you — sneakers crunching against the gravel, momentarily aglow with yellow headlights.

He’d done this before at the diner. You wait patiently for his arrival like you did then, even though you feel a bit silly doing so. You’re more than capable of getting out yourself, but Eddie always insists.

He opens the passenger side door for you with a tightlipped, lopsided grin and holds his free hand out towards you. His fingers are larger and much warmer than yours as they wrap around your palm to guide you out.

The van isn’t that high up off the ground, really. He just likes to hold your hand.

You don’t mind it, though. You’ll take any opportunity to hold him back.

He leads you up the driveway and inside the trailer with his hand entwined with yours. “Wayne’s not here?” you murmur when you’re finally inside, noticing how quiet and empty the place is.

Though maybe empty’s not the right word. The place is filled with stuff — old furniture, a collection of mugs, and various other necessities. Not a mess, just an organized chaos of miscellaneous clutter. It feels like a home. Like a place that’s been lived in.

“No. He’s at work. Graveyard shift,” Eddie answers, tossing his keys onto the coffee table with a high-pitched clack.

He starts to shrug off his leather jacket and notices how squirrelly you seem, all skittish with your face twisted with a distant worry. Your neck twitches softly, head tilting once to the side and back up again. Your quiet concern becomes his own.

His brows raise, hidden beneath his curly bangs, as he slides the fabric down his tattooed arms. “Is that okay?” he wonders, eyes wide and twinkling with apprehension.

“Yeah!” you answer, louder and quicker than you mean to. You’re obviously overcompensating, but you shrug it off anyway. You smile sweetly at him, even though it wavers at the edges, and tilt your cheek to your shoulder. “I was just— It was just a question.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“‘Cause it’s okay if you don’t wanna stay the night,” Eddie assures you, giving you an out so you don’t have to make one yourself. “It’s whatever, you know? Give me the word, and I’ll take you back home. I’ll just spend the night all alone… In an empty trailer… In bed all by myself…”

His quiet smirk widens to a broader beam when he nears you. His pale hands curl around your arms, the faded bats below his thumb sitting neatly outside your elbow.

He’s joking, of course. Well, not about the taking you home part, but about all the rest of it.

He thinks he’d die if he ever made you feel anything less than totally safe. Dying would feel easier, at least. He’d never make you feel bad about being anxious, or coerce you into hiding your feelings for his sake. He cares about you far too much for any of that.

So his tense heart rests a bit when you smile.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, quiet but still sincere.

The boy brightens all at once. Excited in such an innocent, boyish way. “So I get to kiss you all night long?” he wonders in a disbelieving murmur.

“Only if you want,” you answer with burning cheeks and clammy hands.

“Well, I do want… I want very much…”

He kisses you then, until your lungs run out of air. Standing together in the middle of his living room, lit by so many yellow lamps, with the croaking of frogs and the chittering of crickets sounding in the navy blue night.

He pulls away sometime after. Maybe a second. Maybe an eon or more. He recovers from being so ardently kissed much quicker than you do and guides you down the short hallway to the single bedroom. You still feel the imprint of his mouth against yours, like he’s still there.

Your lips tingle with longing, grieving the lack of him.

You still make him turn around before you change, though.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he teases from the very center of his mattress, right before turning onto his stomach and shoving his face into the pillow.

“It’s different,” you murmur, mostly to yourself, as you slide the sleeves of your dress down your shoulders. The fabric falls to the carpeted floor in a puddle at your feet. You make quick work of redressing, as though there were some kinda time limit to what you had asked of him.

“I know,” he replies, muffled into the cushion his cheek is smushed against. “You’re still pretty, though.”

“You can’t even see me,” you argue and slide a pair of frilly sleep shorts over your thighs.

“I’d still think you were pretty even if I never saw you again.”

“Jeez,” you laugh, shoving your head through the neckline of a band-tee older than you are.

“…That sounded kinda morbid, huh?”

You giggle again. This time because his voice is still smothered into the pillow, stifled and utterly faint. “Just a little,” you answer.

“Well, it was supposed to be a compliment.”

“I know. You can turn around now.”

Eddie lifts his wild head and peeks at you over his shoulder, one eye squinted shut just in case he heard you wrong.

You’re less dressed up than before, but still as pretty as you were ten minutes ago.

The subtle domesticity of seeing you in pajamas makes his chest ache. It’s like doing laundry or making a shopping list — something so utterly mundane that’s so strikingly tender.

“Pretty,” Eddie mumbles some moments later, when his brain forgets every word but that one.

“Shut up.”

Your hands wring together as you idle at his bedside, like you need some kinda invitation to come closer. Your head tilts again, a gentle swaying of your head that seems almost involuntary.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Eddie wonders with a soft pink, inquisitive grin.

‘Cause this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. You did it earlier, when you first walked in, and a couple times at the dinner. Like when you catch him staring or after he’s complimented you. It’s almost like you have some genuine aversion to his affection.

“Doing what?” you murmur, all innocent.

Eddie swings his legs off the side of the mattress, socked feet melting into the carpet. His parted thighs are enough of an invitation as you settle intently between them.

“That thing with your neck,” he answers when he’s fully upright. “The uh…” He replicates it for you, drops his cheek to his shoulder and brings it back up again. He doubts he looks nearly as cute as you do doing it.

You get so self-aware that your stomach starts to ache. “I don’t know,” you answer through the frog in your throat. “I do that sometimes, I guess— When I get nervous. I can’t really help it.”

“Nervous?” Eddie echoes, face twisted with sudden anguish. His hands reach for your wringing ones. He musters a shaking smile up at you. “Babe— Why are you nervous?”

You dig your bare feet into the carpet, shifting your weight and ducking your gaze like a nervous child. “‘Cause I haven’t slept over before. And I don’t really know what to… do. Like, what if I snore really loud? Or drool a lot? What if I accidentally punch you in my sleep or something?”

Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh in the face of your genuine worries, but it spills out before he can stop it. It’s so like you to stress yourself sick over something that’s about as likely to happen as getting struck by lightning.

“I’d probably like you more, honestly,” he answers, giving your clammy hands a gentle squeeze. His nose scrunches until the edges of his eyes crinkle. “You’re too perfect. You need something to humble you.”

“Don’t be nice to me, I’m being serious.”

“If it’ll make you feel better, I can sleep on the couch. Or on the floor or something—”

“It’s your house, Eds.”

“Well, I’m not making you sleep on the couch, and especially not on the floor. Even if I was that big of an asshole, I think Uncle Wayne would kill me.” He grows suddenly serious a second later. Still smiling, but with something more earnest in his eyes. “But… I do think we’d be more comfortable, you know, in a bed. Together.”

He’s right, but it doesn’t mean you’re happy about it. Not because you don’t want to sleep in the same bed as him, but because you’re too anxious to let yourself enjoy a good thing.

“I’m just bad at sleepovers, I think,” you confess in a tiny voice, like that fact isn’t utterly obvious now. “Like, one time, I was at a friend’s house in middle school, and I used a poster as a blanket ‘cause I was too scared to ask for a real one.”

Eddie’s smile widens. The rose petal expression blooms so large it makes his cheeks hurt.

“Of course, you did,” the boy says with a shake of his head, frizzy curls swaying around the outsides of his jaw. “You’re so damn cute, you know that?”

You make a vague, grumbly noise of disdain right before Eddie wraps you in his arms. He pulls you softly down until you’re sitting on his jean-clad thighs, then buries his face into your shoulder. You smell like the soap you showered with and the burgers you ate and the perfume you put on just for him.

Eddie presses his lips there, to your collarbone, where the neckline of your shirt has dipped slightly down. He lingers there for a moment, then pulls away with a soft smack.

“I promise to make this the best damn sleepover you’ve ever had in your life,” he promises, muffled from where his nose is smushed into your neck.

“Yeah?” you mumble into the curls tickling your chin.

He nods, still pressed against you. “And I promise to tuck you in before bed so you don’t have to go using my posters as blankets, either.”

You push him away with a half-hearted hand. His boyish laughter paints the tiny bedroom golden. He pulls you back a second later, and you melt into him without thinking twice.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: bug turns one

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kordeliiius · 1 year

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losing track of the days bc not enough ppl samurai sliced that like button

#I cant get anything done until I find out what hijinks kratos and the boys get into next #boys (gender-neutral)#kramblings

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gemini-sensei · 8 months

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hello! your writing is really amazing!! can i please request robby keene with a sweet hyperfem gf that’s a cheerleader or a ballet dancer? maybe how his friends + dad would react to him being with someone pretty opposite him that doesn’t even do karate. thank you sm and once again your writing is awesome 💕

I love this, it's so cute! Thank you so much 🥰

Robby Keene x Cheerleader!Reader

This is a little hijinks and silly fun, so I hope that's okay.

"What do you mean you can't come to training on Saturday? It's mandatory."

Robby stares at his father incredulously. Not for the fact that he's already told him this fact a handful of times, but for the reason that he's pulling shit out of his ass. He's ultimately unimpressed.

"It wasn't mandatory until you just said that," Robby tells him, rolling his eyes. He takes his drink from the fridge, where he'd been stopped, and walks by his oblivious father. "And I've told you this a hundred times now. This isn't new."

"Where do you have to be on Saturday that you can't come to training, huh?" Johnny asks, following after him.

They walk the short distance to the table, where Robby is trying to study for his GED. His father makes that infuriating difficult, however, he'd rather be struggling through that than answer his question. Though it's been long enough that he's been hiding this secret from his father and friends. It's bound to come out eventually, so why not now?

"My girlfriend has a thing," he tells him, intentionally leaving out what the 'thing' is. "I told her I'd go."

"Wait. Since when do you have a girlfriend?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because my son has a girlfriend." Johnny smiles proudly as if this is some big accomplishment. "Is she hot?"

"I'm not feeding into this," Robby tells him, finding that question weird coming from his dad. He's not surprised by it, but that doesn't make it any less weird. "And that's not the point."

"Right, right," Johnny says, sitting back. He pops open a beer despite it only being four o'clock. "Well, just tell her you can't go. If you tell her something else came up, you won't have to go and she won't get upset at you."

"No," Robby sighs, shaking his head. "I told her I'd go and I want to go."

"Well, what is it?"

"Competition."

"What, like a pagent or something?"

"What? No. Just leave it alone."

Robby gathers up his things and takes them to his room, deciding it'd be best to leave the conversation there. Besides, he'd like to study in peace.

○○○

"Where's Robby?"

Johnny gives Daniel a look, his lips pressed thin. "He's not coming. He's going to something his girlfriend is competing in."

"Whoa, wait a minute," Hawk says, inserting himself into the conversation shamelessly. His voice as well as his next question draws in everyone else's attention. "Since when does Robby have a girlfriend?"

"Wait, you guys didn't know about this?" Johnny asks, eyeing Hawk and Miguel as they look back at him curiously. They shake their heads and his frown deepens. "Well, shit."

"So Robby is missing training for his girlfriend?" Demetri asks for clarification, though no one there doubts that he'd do the same if asked.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"And it's because of some sort of competition?" Miguel further inquires.

"That's what he said."

"Aw!" Sam let out with a smile. "That's so romantic. He wants to support her."

"Well, now I'm curious about this mystery girlfriend," Hawk grunts, smirking as he looks at his friends. "I wonder what kind of competition she's in and how much fun he's having there."

"Hold on a second," Daniel says, stopping the teens before they can get too ahead of themselves. "Hawk, whatever you're thinking, it's a no. Whatever reason Robby has for not telling anyone about this girl must be a good one. There's no need to overstep boundaries."

"Fuck boundaries, man. I wanna know who this girl is if she's so special to hide from everyone," Johnny huffs. Daniel glares at him and he glares back, then turns to Hawk and Demetri, the resident cool nerd and huge nerd. "Is there a way for you guys to find out where he's at right now without him knowing?"

"Well, we could check his snapmap and see his location," Demetri says, pulling out his phone.

Hawk watches Johnny's face turn confused and he can't hide his smirk.

"What the hell is a snapmap? Is that some sort of soundboard app or something?"

Everyone looks at him, then each other before Daniel lets out an exasperated sigh. This was not how any of them planned their day, but he seemed to be the only one complaining.

○○○

When they arrive at Robby's location, according to Snapchat of all things, they find themselves at some kind of arena. Johnny leads the pack of nosy teenagers inside but quickly finds himself lost as her tries to navigate the event signs that are posted around the place. Hawk takes the lead, deciding the best course of action is to follow the noise.

Daniel follows begrudging behind his nosy daughter, promising himself to keep them all out of trouble. He sounds like a parrot, repeating himself about how this is a bad idea and how Robby will never trust any of them again if they continue on. "Curiosity killed the cat, ya know."

It isn't long before a woman stops them. She wears a sticker on her shirt that says "Volunteer," but the stern look about her screams wannabe event planner or security, or some horrid mashup of both. "Excuse me, only family and school associates are allowed here."

Ever fast on his feet, Hawk said, "No worries. We're with one of the schools."

"And what school is that?"

Sam spies a board with a list of schools on it, happy to see a convenient option on the list. "West Valley."

The woman's attitude quickly changes. "Oh, are you with the yearbook? Your teacher said you'd be coming, but we never heard anything back from him."

"Yep, that's us," Hawk says, pulling on a photo-ready smile.

"Well, let me get you checked in," the woman says, walking them over to a table.

To keep up their little act, Hawk and Sam babble on about having "finally found the right place" and "getting their stuff out of the car soon." Everyone else stays quiet for the most.

The woman grabs a sheet of stickers and writes on them with a black marker, then passes them out to everyone. When she gets to Johnny and Daniel, she says, "You must be chaperones."

Daniel opens his mouth to say something, but Johnny cuts him off with a quick, "Sure we are." It gets them each a "parent" sticker slapped onto their shirts and they're permitted to keep going.

As they walk, Demetri scoffs. "I can't believe that worked."

They find the entrance to the arena and walk inside, hearing some sort of chant echoing off the walls. As they come out from between the seats, they finally see exactly what kind of competition Robby promised to attend.

A group of cheerleaders took center stage as they went through a routine on the mats. They wear bright smiles as they lift their pompoms into the airs and their pleated skirts swished around their legs. Off to the side, other teams sit as they watch with smiles of their own or talk among themselves, waiting for their turn to go up and show the crowd their moves. Upbeat music plays as the performing group does their thing, keeping the crowd in good spirits.

"Oh my god," Tory laughs. She grins wide, never imagining in her wildest of dreams that Robby Keene would ever date a cheerleader.

Miguel nods along slowly, still a little taken aback by the scene. "This wasn't what I was expecting."

Johnny smiles proudly. "Hell yeah. My son's dating a cheerleader."

"Your son's pissed off," a voice says from behind the group.

They all turn to find Robby standing with a small bucket of popcorn in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. True to his words, he wears a less-than-impressed look on his face. If looks could kill, they'd all be dead where they stand.

Johnny steps forward. "Look, Robby, you can't really be mad at us-"

"The hell I can," Robby cuts him on.

"I told you so," Daniel chimes in.

Sam slaps his arm. "Don't even go there. You came here with us."

"Enough," Robby cut in, gritting his teeth. "I can't believe you guys crashed my girlfriend's competition all because I didn't want to tell you-" he points at Johnny, "about her yet. And shit like this is the reason why, on top of the fact that you make everything that is in the slightest bit feminine into some kind of win to men."

"I don't do that," Johnny says nonchalantly.

"Yes, you do," Robby, and everyone else, responds.

He gives them all a look, but then turns back to Robby. He opens his mouth to speak, but Demetri cuts him off.

"The second you found out it's a cheerleading competition, you counted it as a personal win," he says.

"Shut up," Johnny huffs.

Suddenly, the music stops and the announcer comes on over the loudspeaker. "What a great performance! Give them a round of applause. We'll take a ten-minute break, so refresh your drinks and get ready for the great team from North Hills!"

People start to get up and move around, causing things to get a little chaotic and crowded. Robby takes the opportunity, with a major eye roll, to slip away. He walks back to his seat or rather stomps back once he steps onto the bleachers.

His eyes scan the arena but it doesn't take long for him to find the group of cheerleaders he's looking for. Not too far away, North Hills stands, going through some last-minute stretches before their performance. Among them, his girlfriend is drinking from her water bottle. Her hair is done perfectly, there isn't a single crease in her uniform, and she looks absolutely beautiful. Her uniform shows off all of her curves whilst keeping things modest, giving Robby an eyeful of her shapely legs.

As she caps her water off, their eyes meet and she smiles really big. She throws up her hand in a cute wave and he smiles back, momentarily forgetting his anger. He waves back and she blows him a kiss. Only for her, he pretends to catch it and press it to his lips, which makes her giggle.

On the lower levels of the bleachers, farther away from Robby but not too far that they can't see him, his father, friends, and Sensei watch. They're still equal parts curious as much as they are feeling guilty - at least most. Unapologetically, Hawk smirks as he watches the little interaction between the no-longer-secret-lovers.

"That's Robby's girlfriend?" Demetri asks, pointing out Reader among the group of North Hills cheerleaders.

Tory smirks. "She's cute."

Hawk chides, "More than cute."

"I just can't believe Robby would hide the fact that he has a girlfriend," Johnny huffs. He shakes his head, still in a state of semi-disbelief as he watches the group, studying the girl who looks to be his son's complete opposite. "A cheerleader at that."

"Gee, Johnny, I wonder why he'd do such a thing," Daniel deadpans.

Johnny goes to respond hotly, but the announcer comes on to bring everyone's attention back onto the competition. Soon, the North Hills team is coming onto the mats and getting into formation. They take their deep breaths, smiling big and pretty for everyone. Then the music started and they began their routine.

○○○

After all of the teams performed and the winner was announced, the room became chaos, but Robby could care less about the people around him. He makes his way down the bleachers to reach Reader, who is celebrating with her team by jumping with joy and talking over each other. They hold a big, shiny trophy as they squeal and congratulate themselves for working so hard to win.

She sees him as he's walking over and she lets out a giddy squeal of his name. She rushes to him and he catches her in a hug, holding her tight as she squeezes him.

"We won! We won!" she cheers happily.

He smiles and kisses her cheek. "I knew you would."

She pulls back, smiling at him. Her eyes shine as she looks at him. "Really?"

"Of course," he tells her. He has always believed in her. This is what she's passionate about, so how could she not win? "I got these for you."

He holds out the flowers for her and she takes them with so much care and admiration. "Aww, thank you! I love them!"

She throws her arms around him again, this time around his neck, and kisses him. He happily kisses back, holding her waist. He pulls her close, against him so that they can deepen the kiss and really share the moment. It's her day and nothing beats a hot kiss from your boyfriend after all the hard work paying off.

However, a whistle interrupts them followed by loud clapping. "Hell yeah!" someone yells and Robby pulls away annoyed.

He looks over to find his father and the others watching him. He glares at his dad, letting him know that he is not at all amused or happy with his presence there. In fact, the anger bubbles back up and his jaw clenches as he stares down his friends.

"I still can't believe you're here," he grumbles, cutting each of them a look.

Demetri and Miguel at least look a little guilty and remorseful, whilst Daniel practically chastises Johnny for encouraging all of this behavior and invasion of privacy. Tory looks amused as all Hell while Hawk takes the moment to shamelessly check out some of Reader's friends.

Sam smiles kindly. "Well, all of our meddling aside, I think it's sweet you skipped practice to be here."

Robby wants to roll his eyes, but Reader grabs onto his jacket and catches his attention. He looks at her and almost melts.

"You missed your practice for me?" she asked cutely.

He hums and gives a little shrug like it isn't a big deal. "I told you I'd be here."

"Aww," she lets out, smiling wide. She plants a big kiss on his cheek, leaving a little lipstick mark there.

He blushes as his friends watch, but he can't bring himself to care too much with her in his arms. She makes it impossible to be a grump when she's around, easily the best part of his days.

#cheerleader!reader #robby keene x chubby reader #robby keene x reader #robby keene #cobra kai imagine #cute and funny #cobra kai #cobra kai headcanons #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai x chubby reader #cobra kai x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #gemini sensei

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cevansbrat0007 · 1 month

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There is a trend on some social media where the wife/Gf gives her man a full plate and only her self a little saying that is all that was left. How would Andy and Ari act in that situation?

What's Eating You, Mr. Levinson?

Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to read Andrew Barber's reaction to the same prompt.

Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Brief Mention of Calorie Counting, Bickering, Manhandling, Threats of Spanking/Punishment, Discussion of a Sex Tape, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Ari Levinson from my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You weren’t quite sure what possessed you to do this. If anybody asked, you would claim temporary insanity. But right now you were about to get up to some mischief.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” You mutter under your breath as you adjust the position of the camera you hid tucked away behind a plant. Pleased with the angle, you make a mental note to revisit the world of Harry Potter sooner rather than later.

It was officially time for a reread.

Tonight you were gonna play a little joke on your bounty hunter boyfriend. One that you’d come across the other day after accidentally straying from the wonderful world of BookTok. You just hoped he would find it as amusing as you did. In fact, you were certain that he would.

Eventually.

Hands on your hips, you do an about-face and traipse back into the kitchen to get started on dinner. On tonight’s menu was a Tuscan pork roast, complete with red wine mushrooms and Haricots Verts – also known as French Green Beans. And for dessert, you’d decided to whip up your man’s favorite: key lime pie

So, even if he got pissed at you later, you were confident you had something that would soothe his ruffled feathers.

Fingers crossed.

Later that Evening…

The heady thrum of excitement hits you the moment you hear the open and shut of your front door. Having anticipated his arrival, you’d even thrown on a new dress and cued up a little music. While it wasn’t your usual style, you knew without a doubt that Ari would appreciate your efforts.

“Bird?”

The sound of your nickname has a smile forming on your lips before you even realize it. Smoothing your hands over your skirt, you make your way towards your mudroom, eager to greet your handsome bounty hunter.

His eyes light up the moment he sees you. He stands there for a moment, drinking in the sight you clad in your new black dress and wedge heels.

“Well, get a look at you.” He breathes, allowing his bag to drop at his feet next to his forgotten boots.

“You like?” Biting your lip, you give into temptation and do a little spin.

Confidence blooms when you hear his appreciative whistle. But that’s nowhere near enough for your man. Because now that you’d gone and given him a show, he wanted more.

“Oh baby, I love.”

Pulling you into his arms, his mouth quickly descends upon your own. His tongue wastes no time finding yours, exploring every inch, every corner of your mouth. He lets you know without words that he’s so unbelievably happy to be home holding you like this.

You cling to him, your hands roving beneath the soft fabric of his t-shirt to run along the sculpted plane of his back. When he finally lets you up for air it’s so he can nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, unique scent.

“You’re beautiful.” He rasps, pecking your lips once more, his large hands come up to frame your face. “So beautiful. Can’t wait to take this dress off you later, see what you might be hiding underneath.”

“All in good time, Beast.” Your lashes flutter closed as you lean into his touch. “All in good time.”

“What if I don’t wanna wait?” His husky growl rumbles from somewhere deep in his chest as he fiddles the material of your skirt.

“Well, you’re gonna.” Comes your cheeky response. “So go on and wash up for supper. We’re having something yummy.” You bat as his hands, intending to shoo him up the stairs.

The look that flashes across your man’s face makes it clear that he’d much rather have you for dinner instead. He boxes you in, slowly crowding you with his much larger frame as he backs you against a nearby wall.

However, you refuse to let yourself be swayed.

“I mean it, mister.” You repeat, poking him in the chest. “Now, be a good boy and go wash up.” Ari’s eyes darken at your words. His head dips without warning as he bites your finger, sucking the digit into his mouth, making you gasp.

“Alright, Duchess. Have it your way.” He growls once he finally deigns to release you. “You’d best be ready for me when I get back.” With that, he gives you his back as he strides off in the direction of the stairs.

“I ain’t scared of you.” You tell his retreating form, waiting until you hear his heavy footfalls sounding on the floor above you. Only then do you move, intending to finish setting up for dinner.

‘Alright, sugar.’ You think, taking a second to fluff your curls. ‘Time to earn yourself an Oscar.’

Fifteen Minutes Later…

You’ve just finished hiding away what’s left of your meal when you hear Ari make his way into your tiny dining room.

“Have a seat, Beast!” You call out, hoping that the act you were about to put on was at least mildly convincing. “I–I’ll be right in.”

Blowing out a breath you snag your bounty hunter’s plate, along with a glass of wine, and head into the next room. Although he admittedly wasn’t much of a wine drinker before he met you, he tended to enjoy whatever selection you paired with your meal.

Tonight you’d picked a lovely pinot noir.

This time when you see him, you’re treated to the sight of a freshly showered Ari lazily sprawled in one of your slightly too small chairs. His still damp hair is pushed back off his face as he waits for you, patiently biding his time while he plans his next move.

Or so you assumed, anyway.

“Here you are.” You sing as you approach. “Tonight I bring you an expertly roasted Tuscan pork loin, complete with a garlic and mushroom risotto and french-style green beans.”

“Smells good, baby.” He absentmindedly scratches at his jaw while he surveys the mountain of food on his plate.

“Hopefully it tastes good too.” You lean down to press a quick kiss against his temple. “I’ll, uh, be right back with mine.” The handsome brute smacks your ass when you turn to depart, making you yip.

“Hurry back.” He grunts, letting out a chuckle when he sees you trying to rub the sting out of your butt.

Seconds later you return with your food before quietly taking a seat at the table, all the while refusing to make eye contact. Picking up your napkin, you make a show of draping it across your knee, and then…

You wait.

It doesn’t take long for Ari to notice the differences between your respective plates, and it takes even less time for him to speak on it – much to your internal satisfaction.

“What the–?” Ari pushes his plate aside so that he can get a better look at your virtually empty one. “Where the hell’s the rest of your food, baby?” His deep voice comes out deceptively soft.

“Huh?” You cast him a sheepish glance, feigning embarrassment. “Oh this? It’s fine.”

“That’s not what I asked, Bird.” The quiet steel in his voice is impossible to miss.

“I know it wasn’t. But this was all that was left, so…” You trail off, averting your gaze in favor of using your fork to push food around your plate. “It’s fine.”

“There’s that damn word again.” You hear him grumble under his breath, his nostrils flaring in frustration. “I got news for you, Bird. It ain’t fine.” He grouses, reaching for you even as you shift away.

“But it is.” You sing, daintily fanning yourself with a napkin.

“No it isn’t.” He sings right back, clearly not understanding your game. Which was a good thing. It meant that you two could play a little longer.

“Look, if this is about you feeling like you need to start counting calories again…” Ari goes to rest his elbows on the table, his own meal all but forgotten. “Then please believe me when I tell you that you look phenomenal. And not just tonight, baby. I mean every night.”

You feel your cheeks heat as your body responds to his praise. That familiar warmth soon spreads, pooling in your belly while you mentally preen at his words.

“Thank you, Ari.”

“Oh don’t thank me, sweet girl.” His already husky voice dips another octave. “I just want you to eat.” You stifle a small shiver when the roughened pads of his fingertips lightly graze over your hand. “Now, do me a kindness and take your pretty little self back into that kitchen and fix yourself a proper plate.”

And there it was. He thought you were lying about there not being any leftovers. He was right, of course. Just not the way he thought he was.

“I would if I could, sugar.” You stretch out your legs beneath the table as you prepare to really sell the narrative. “Honest. But there really isn’t anything left. I…accidentally only bought one pork loin instead of two. And then I misjudged the recipe for the risotto, but that was most likely on account of the fact that I was in my feelings about the state of Herb & Twine’s green beans selection. It wasn’t very good.”

Ari doesn’t tell you this, but he’s actually impressed by your ability to speak that fast without so much as taking a breath. Instead all you receive is a gruff “uh huh” for your trouble.

“So,” You forge on, now fully committed to the bit. “I salvaged what I could out of the meal I planned and then gave most of it to you.”

“Why?”

Boy, he did not look happy. Which was great news for you

“Because…” You draw out the word, wincing when you belatedly notice the sudden tick in his jaw. “I just…felt like you shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes.”

“Oh.” He hums, pursing his lips as he mulls over your story. “Well, I reckon we’ll just have to fix that.”

Unsure of what he means, you open your mouth to keep talking, only to let out a shriek when Ari suddenly reaches over to grip the back of your chair to drag you, and it, over closer to him.

“Christ, Beast!” Your hand flies to your still-heaving chest as you will your heartbeat to calm down.

But your man’s not done yet.

You scarcely have time to catch your breath before you’re hauled into his lap. Immediately your arms go to weave themselves around his neck to keep you from falling. Not that Ari would’ve ever allowed that to happen.

Seemingly unbothered by your rather dramatic response, Ari seeks to balance you on top of his muscled thighs as he leans over again to retrieve your plate. You watch in confusion as he unceremoniously dumps the contents onto his own dish before setting yours aside once more.

“Hate to break it to you, Duchess.” He seamlessly adjusts your positions so that he can grasp his knife and fork. “But I don’t need all this food. So it looks like we’ll just have to share.”

Momentarily stunned by this turn of events you can only nod as he feeds you a tender bite of pork. It takes a moment for you to find your voice, but when you finally do, it’s to utter two simple words.

“Ari, wait.”

“‘Fraid I’m not really in the mood to wait.” Your impatient bounty hunter warns. But he does pause his efforts, his fork hovering mere centimeters from your mouth. “You’re nuts if you think I’m the kinda man who would even consider stuffing himself while his lady sits by and starves.”

“I know.” You assure him before rearranging your body so that you’re facing him, your thighs now straddling his hips. “And I think that’s awfully sweet.”

“Great. So how about you –”

“But since this is a prank…” The grin you’re sporting threatens to split your face in two. “It looks like you get to keep your food.”

Ari blinks back at you, his mouth briefly opening and closing in a way that very much reminds you of a fish. You feel positively giddy as you press your hands on either side of his bearded face so you can plant a kiss on his full lips while he tries, and fails, to make sense of what you just said.

“Run that by me one more time.” His quiet snarl is enough to have you soaking your panties.

“I saw this thing on TikTok, where these women all decided to prank their boyfriends by serving them this big ol’ plate of food, while pretending to give themselves only a little bit and claiming that was all that was leftover. They filmed their reactions and posted ‘em for everyone else to see.”

“What the hell is a fuckin’ TikTok?”

“It’s this app where you…” You pause as you try to find the right words. “Where people can, um–”

“Post dumb shit?” He quirks a tawny brow as he tries to remain serious, even though you’re also pretty sure that you just saw his lips twitch. “Come up with new and inventive ways to torture the men that love them?”

“I mean, that’s not all it is.” You take a moment to whisper kisses along his chiseled jaw. “But I guess that’s a pretty accurate description.”

“Hmph.” Your grumpy bounty hunter continues to glower at you, even as his large, warm hands move to settle on your hips. “And am I right to assume you’re recording this?”

“Maybe…” You giggle, not bothering to hide just how funny you found this all to be. “Oh – but I was never gonna post it. Promise.”

You hold up your pinky, trying your hardest to look solemn. But the look Ari gives you lets you know that he’s done falling for your act.

“I’m warning you, Duchess.” He grunts, lightly bouncing you on his lap. “I swear to God, if I catch myself on that fuckin’ tock clock…thing…you have my word that I’m gonna redden that ass.”

“I already told you I wasn’t gonna.” You reassure him once more, resting your forehead against his. “By the way, thanks for bein’ such a good sport about the whole thing.”

“No problem.” He flashes you a feral grin, revealing his pearly white teeth. It shoots straight to your core. “But the way I see it, you kinda owe me one. Don’t you?” He leans in close as his hands begin gently kneading your curves.

“Um…I don’t think–” You let out a soft whimper when he drags his nose along the delicate column of your throat.

“Oh, but I do.” He nips at your jaw.

“I suppose that’s fair.”

“Trust me, it is.” His sensual growl has you practically shivering with need. “Which is why you’re gonna show me where you hid that camera.” His lust-filled gaze drops to your cleavage as he openly begins undressing you with his eyes.

“Now hold on a minute, Beast –” You stammer once realization dawns.

“Aw, don’t fret.” Ari’s rueful chuckle lets you know that you will never win this battle. “You’ll have your turn to direct our little movie.” Ari suddenly stands without warning so that he can gently deposit you back in your own chair. “Especially now that I know how much you love performing for the camera.

Oh, the man had you there. Sometimes your Beast was a bit too cunning for your liking.

“I don’t think–” You try again, now feeling shy. “What we do in the dark has no business being on film!”

“Hm, guess we’ll just have to keep the lights on. But for now, let’s get you fed.” He drops a kiss on your head before picking up your empty dish and sauntering off towards the kitchen. “We’ll talk lighting and camera angles once you’re finished.”

Good Lord on high. What had you just gotten yourself into?

“Here we are.” Ari continues upon his return a few minutes later. He sets your down in front of you before taking your napkin and redraping it across your lap. “But I’d eat fast if I were you.”

“Um…why?” You ask, eyeing him warily.

“Because.” He winks at you before taking a seat and enthusiastically spearing a piece of meat onto his fork. “Tonight’s dress rehearsal starts in thirty minutes.”

END

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