#I think that's a high enough authority

[bethagain]

Thinky-thoughts incoming! Today’s topic: Musings on relationships and The Mandalorian, from someone who doesn't get it. AKA, What’s the deal with shipping Din and Bo-Katan?

Friendly chats about the following are welcome! But, please ignore if my ramblings are going to upset you.

I didn’t get the Din/Luke thing at first, but I have to admit there’s some potential there. And I can see why the Bo-Katan/Armorer thing has its fans. But I do not get the Din/Bo-Katan thing. At all. And because I feel like writing and my fic ideas are absolutely refusing to happen, I’m gonna pontificate about it.

Ok, so: Din and Luke, they’ve got stuff in common.

They both love a hotrod. Luke’s gonna swoon over the N-1 starfighter. Din’s gonna ask if he can try out the X-wing. They’re gonna bore the crap out of everyone but Peli, talking specs over the beer that Luke’s drinking and Din’s got untouched in front of him (because, helmet).

Yeah, Din’s a reluctant hero while Luke’s been a willing one—but by now, Luke’s seen a few things and I bet he’s starting to feel the weight. Bet you they have their moments of commiseration: Oh come on, not me, not again.

Once they’ve committed, though, they’re both reckless as hell. Luke might jump in faster while Din takes a minute, but once they get going neither one of them has much of a sense of self-preservation.

We’ve seen Din be a stone-cold killer, and people like to think of Luke as the gentle one. But Luke didn’t get his Tumblr reputation of “sunshine and tempered death” for nothing. Do not threaten something he cares about, or someone he loves.

Din’s more deadpan and Luke’s more likely to burst out laughing, but I think we’ve seen they each can appreciate the absurd. They’re going to get each other’s jokes.

Bo-Katan and the Armorer? We know less about each of them, I think, but still:

They’ve taken different paths, but their end goals are the same. The Armorer chose stealth and secrecy, keeping the people away from the world that would hurt them, while Bo-Katan chose guerrilla warfare. But they both gave over their lives to preserving what was left of Mandalore.

They’re both extremely skilled fighters, and they both fight with economy and grace. They’re well matched to train together, even if their skills are different.

They’re both intentional leaders. They’ll be able to share notes on the challenges of authority and how to overcome them.

But Din and Bo-Katan? What are people seeing, that makes them think these two should be together?

Bo-Katan obviously cares a lot about her people, but she’s irreverent and sarcastic about Mandalorian culture, too. Din takes it all extremely seriously, to the point of risking his life (more than once) for a point of protocol. They try to get together, they’re gonna drive each other nuts. Especially if they’re trying to raise a kid together.

Bo-Katan plans and strategizes, as she did with building the fleet. Impulse is not really her thing. When have we ever seen Din have a plan that he didn’t make up on the spur of the moment? Imagine them trying to organize a vacation together. Or dinner, even.

The getting-each-other’s-jokes thing. Do they have the same sense of humor? No idea. Does Bo-Katan even have one?

And then there’s the fact that Din promised to serve her. I know a lot of folks thought that was romantic, but I don’t see it. That was a pledge of deference and duty to a military and cultural leader. When Din speaks, he's generally got one of two settings: He's either utterly serious or offering up dry humor. Sure, he's capable of double meanings, but we've only seen him use that against people. It's not a trick for someone he respects. Plus, we never see Bo-Katan offer anything like a pledge to him in return.

Of course, there’s also the fact that my non-shippy heart wants to see more of Din and Grogu’s adventures together, and Din’s development as a parent and as a Mandalorian—and I don’t see any real need to hand him a canon romance. I mean, sure, he’s a bit of a blorbo for me and I want him to be happy. But from a storytelling perspective I just don’t think it’s missing.

[uncanny-tranny]

You lose the plot when discussing and fighting for minorities when you buy into the specific brand of (specifically christianity) "suffering is Divine, and the more you Suffer, the More Divine you are."

Suffering is suffering is suffering - when you choose to ignore a marginalized group's suffering because they are not suffering enough or are not "good victims," you have lost the plot.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

As a subway boss, his charisma stats are stacked. His posture is stooped but he acts with such an air of easy, subconscious confidence that ppl are like 'oh well I guess he's supposed to be here after all'. Plus he's very polite. He is that one meme of "no pets! Well okay, I will allow him because he looks very polite."

THIS IS WHAT I'M SAYIIIIIING!! you get iiiiit!! actually ive been rotating this a bunch in the background lol. bc it Really Is that like. it's not just that he's nice, though that helps a lot—he's a subway boss!! he is very well accustomed to like, handling people, in a variety of situations. from guiding/ordering people who are under his command, to calmly and professionally talking down/reasoning with/reassuring/etc people who he has very little to do with outside of the fact that they're a passenger on the train and are being loud and disruptive/having a really bad day/poorly controlling their pokemon/etc. it's His Job.

and while it might be slightly undercut in hisui by sort of (waves hand generally) all of the rift bullshit fucking with his head and making him generally less sure of himself, it IS a thing that i think still comes through without him even really realizing it's happening.

[novelconcepts]

i don't make resolutions, but if i did

it would be to finish this fic

(and to be kind to myself for however long it takes to actually do so)

[antisocialxconstruct]

.

[pearlcaddy]

My kingdom for people to stop trash talking/generally being rude about fics in public fandom spaces. If you're analyzing a general trend, fine. But if you don't like a specific fic, find a friend's DMs to vent in. Stop putting this stuff on tumblr, Twitter, Discord servers, etc. where 1) many people in the fandom, and 2) the GODDAMN AUTHOR can see it.

[liu-anhuaming]

I had my final review for my probationary period at work today, and it went really well. Feels good to finally have a boss who appreciates the fact that I'm a perfectionist/neurotically detail-oriented weirdo

[spearxwind]

Why does talas spend all his time eating hunters when he could just move somewhere with none and eat stuff there? Or does he also need to feed his leviathan form

I answered this a little more in depth previously, its that he doesnt want to lose the life he'd already built, and just giving up and escaping would be the easier thing to do

Also I want to add, he can't do that. He has a bounty on his head. He has had one from the start, so even if he fled he would be hunted down anyways. Only thing left to do is hold his ground and keep the facade up for as long as he can.

He doesnt spend all his time doing that though, he has like, a job and a life. Hunter killing only happens when hes out in the ocean on his own for whatever reason

(And he does need to feed his leviathan form but the hunters do not serve that purpose, that is just for the sake of revenge.)

(edit for some reason i forgot an entire phrase)

[aurorawest]

So here’s a marketing trend I’ve noticed lately in publishing - “Reads like the best of fanfiction!”

And like, I see what they’re doing here. We know people read—they read fanfiction! A lot of authors currently publishing probably got their start writing fanfiction! Yay fanfiction!

Except trying to market to this group of people who read primarily fanfiction? Yeah, pretty sure that isn’t going to work. People who only read fanfiction aren’t interested in reading published fiction, and if you spend an hour on tumblr you can find the posts proving it. “Published fiction doesn’t explore characters the way fanfiction does!” “Published fiction doesn’t have queer characters!” “Published fiction is all written by cishet white men!”

Yeah, tell me you haven’t read a book since your English teacher assigned Tom Sawyer without telling me you haven’t read a book since your English teacher assigned Tom Sawyer.

Also it’s weirdly backwards. Like. Don’t you guys mean, the best fanfiction reads like published fiction? Clearly they can influence each other—many of the best books I’ve read lately contain tropes that are very very common in fanfiction, and they’re being utilized in a way that I can just tell is coming from an author who wrote fic and is possibly still writing it.

Anyway, you’re not going to to get the AO3 only crowd to buy books, so maybe stop marketing books this way.

[hua-fei-hua]

last night i had a dream that had something to do with reading a fic abt . well i wanna say "a haunted forest diner" but i've already written a haunted forest diner fic and it was not at all like that. anyway, it was this haunted forest diner fic in the sense that all its patrons were old forest gods of like decay and shit and in order to sneak in, you had to transform into like a deer, and apparently i was a supremely graceful jumper for a stag

but anyway i dreamt that that was a fic that i had apparently read and commented on months ago, but for w/e reason i had never read the replies to, and the author had replied that i seemed like a cool person n that they would have loved to have read some stuff i had written "but it seems you do not have any genshin works up..."

and honest to god all i could think upon reading that was literally "lol skill issue"

[llycaons]

may have to come out as a hua cheng disliker after this reread I'm following, and it may be because I'm biased towards mq but like. okay I have a lot to say actually

it's nice that hc is always on xl's side and defends xl when he's not as powerful as the people around him but like...mq and fx really love xl. they really want to look out for him and protect him. they WERE loyal in the past and it was only under extraordinarily desperate and miserable circumstances that mq left - mq who has his own mother to take care of, and who freely admitted to making mistakes, and still tried to come back and give xl and fx food!

and fx who literally NEVER LEFT and was in fact TOLD to leave by xl. mqfx were more loyal than most people would be expected to be under the circumstances, and still for mistakes and things they did literally 800 years ago hc treats them with such contempt and cruelty. like there were many many reasons that the events of book 2/4 happened, mqfx aren't the people to blame. not everyone can be expected to be as single-mindedly devoted as hc, something the narrative actually points out. and it kind of necessitates hc having literally no other responsibilities, relationships, or even interests besides xl. like, mqfx's lives didn't revolve around xl, they still had their own things going on and that's normal. And it's kind of depressing that this is the only avenue for a romantic relationship bc its so unfeasible and cuts out so many people

I would get it if hc was angry on his own behalf since mq was very cruel to him as a child but he only seems to hate him bc of him leaving xl…and seeing hc now in this powerful position sneering at people and wishing death on them honestly kind of makes him look like a bully. but then again a lot of these people looked down on him as a kid so it's KIND of justified?? idk it just all seems so immature for him to constantly be so unkind esp when mq is practically being imprisoned or at risk of being forced to descend.

and yeah I get that I'm reading a fantastical romance and it's not supposed to be "realistic" but goddammit those are xl's friends and it feels weird to see xl laugh at hc openly mocking them. I feel like I'm too old to enjoy that kind of dynamic. I laugh once but when I actually start to think about it, it's quite unpleasant

[celesterayel]

something out of my dreams | luke castellan

pairing : luke castellan x dionysus!reader

request: could you possibly write a luke x daughter of dionysus please? maybe she’s like super nice and when percy gets to camp she becomes like an older sister and luke is super whipped for her? @elz-zalarrr

IN WHICH — all he knows is that you were something out of his dreams.

"trust him like a brother, yeah, you know i did one thing right. starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night" - t.s.

w.c. 1.8k

warning(s) : cheesiness ゜✭・.

✩ ‧₊˚ author's note okay i've begun to realize that low-key i feel like i write in cursive if that makes sense? if a feeling could describe it i'd say its like using poetry to write? that's likely not any better lol :)

there was but one person that everyone could agree they adored at camp half blood.

it didn't matter what grudge who had with whom or what ancient rivalries transcended the ideals of reality, everyone loved you. not the typical type of brittle love that crumbled at the slightest of touches, but pure adoration that endured the sands of time.

you with the gentle soul, who healed others with each laugh and smile. when new half-godlings were brought to camp, you made sure to comfort them and make them understand that they belonged here and would find a home whether they wanted to or not. you made sure that no birthday was forgotten, no deed undone.

children of minor gods or elders, of Ares or Aphrodite, you became an older sister to all who needed you. you, the daughter of fertility and chaos, the god dionysius.

there was no debate that at camp half blood there was only a before you and an after you. you were like that high right before the free fall–invincibility and smoke and curiosity wrapped into the form of a demi-god. you were the gentle breeze during summer nights when the heat became too much. and none ached more to feel it than luke castellan, who had been burning for as long as he knew.

your relationship in itself was tentative, you danced around your feelings–scared one wrong touch or word would break the shaky, fine line that lay between you two. but you could not hide the way you loved the other to yourselves nor the children of the beings of divine blood. 

luke castellan loved you like the stars would fall out of the sky with one harsh touch, free and incandescently self-destructive. like you were a wild, wonderful thing out of a fantasy.

you loved him like there was no hell or heaven but the cosmos that lay in his eyes and the worlds that lay in his soul. something so sacred and rare. a love so true and mortal it put all the greek tragedies to shame. 

you knew that whatever you and him were made of, in every lifetime or the next you two were made for each other. 

loving luke castellan would be both your redemption and destruction in the making, your elysium for whatever good thing you had done in your previous life. 

✩ ‧₊˚

you first met percy jackson when he came to camp, he was a scared little thing who had just lost his mother when the veil between reality and deception flickered. everything he’d known came crumbling as quickly as the truth was uncovered: gods and monsters were real and played games of hell and heaven on earth. some thing about him called out to the vulnerability you once knew when you first came to camp so you made it your mission to be the sister he never had. 

you met him at the front of the steps of the main office, “my name is y/n, percy jackson. welcome to camp halfblood.”

“do you just somehow know everyones name,” he raised his eyebrows at you. 

“yes.” no, but you supposed it’d be fun to let him think that. 

“of course you do.”

“come along, i’ll show the ins and outs here. if you're nice enough, i might let you in on the cook's secret stash of blue ice cream,” you laughed out.

he contemplated his choices before grabbing your outstretched hand and shaking it, “deal.”

you showed him who to avoid and the best people to befriend. the history between your kind and why the gods were as they were. the truth behind his bloodline and the legacy that he was now responsible for. the tribulations and the pain that was cursed to follow the children of the gods. 

“and this is chris. the best person to ask if you need to know what plants are poisonous,” you say, introducing him to a guy with black hair and soft eyes. 

percy looks at chris before looking around to see where the hermes boy is, “we’ve met. he was with luke when he was showing me around”

you’re cheeks heated at the mention of his name; looking around to see if you can spot the familiar tan skin and soft eyes that belong to your luke. 

“oh! luke! yeah, he’s around here somewhere. he’s sly like that, wandering and then popping up the next second.”

a voice pipes up behind you suddenly, “y/n, already telling percy everything about me?” 

you whirl around and there he stands in all his glory with the curls you love and the sun in his eyes. your golden boy.

“just telling him the truth, castellan. you’re hard to get a hold of sometimes.”

a hue of pink covers his cheeks, “i’m never far from you.”

both of you oblivious to percy and chris who seem to be conversing about you both and the tip-toe dance you play. 

percy just wonders what’s happening here: firstly, luke is looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars and that’s saying something because he has shit observation skills–his analysis essays can attest to that. secondly, he swears he can see hearts in his eyes from where he’s standing and is that…is that a blush?

he turns to chris, who is just staring at the two like it's not out of the normal for what’s happening, “what’s happening here? is he blushing?”

chris just nods, “yeah. luke’s kinda–very obviously to everyone–in love with y/n. if i didn’t know better i’d say she’s gotten him insane in love. very likely as her dad’s the god of insanity.”

he turns back to the two who are laughing and standing closer than before, “like super, super in love. if there was a word for love, luke’s found it”

“huh.” 

chris says it like it’s common knowledge like how the best food is blue jelly beans, “i mean i ship it, y/n’s the sweetest person around here–the type of person people write songs about. she’s like a sister to us older ones and a mother to the younger ones. the whole camp is waiting for him to just man up and ask y/n. they make each other happy, you know?”

“yeah, i think i do.” 

percy thinks it’s something the poets would write about.

✩ ‧₊˚

fridays are capture the flag days.

you’re not the type of person to engage in these types of games all that often but you suppose there’s a first time for everything. someone’s got to show the percy boy how it’s played. 

“okay, percy. remember, keep your senses open and make sure that no one gets close enough to engage. once they engage, it’s hard to fight them off.”

all around you two, people have begun to don their armor and raise arms. the sun has just reached its height and you’re huddled together discussing your gameplan. even though your cabin house is pretty small, you’ve joined athena and hermes for this game. 

percy’s voice rises a little high as he tries swinging his sword around only to drop it, “yeah, okay. i’ll just try not to die, i guess. that’s not like hard or anything.”

“just follow my lead and if i’m not here find luke.”

you're not exactly excited about percy’s odds. the kid is lanky as is and his sassiness doesn’t help him out much when others target him for it. 

that’s exactly why you’re gone to his rescue when he nearly gets hit in the face by a spear after he insulted one of the boys from house ares. 

your heel nearly buckles under a sharp hit after you block the attack that’s directed to percy. you manage to reset your heel and push the sword off before you drop down into a crouch and sweep the legs of the warrior in front of you.

unfortunately you're slightly too focused on what’s in front of you and protecting percy you don’t realize that someones charging toward you from the side. 

fortunately, a block from a familiar sword stops any attack that might meet you head on. no sooner do you hear the block that luke’s got the other guy on the floor and surrendering. 

you grin at him, “i had that handled.”

giving you that grin that makes you feel like your future's right in front of you, he replies: “i’m sure you did. but why let you deal with him when i can save you the trouble.” 

“why don’t you go and help annabeth win the games, romeo.”

he gives you a wink, throwing a quick ‘yes ma’am’ before he’s already running off again. 

no sooner than later, a quick gong resounds throughout the camp, concluding the games. you’re standing slightly battered while percy walks behind you pointing out all the flowers he’s found. you definitely need to teach him how to defend himself. 

the players are just trickling in for the woods they’ve been fighting in to reband together and in the distance you see a figure running toward you. 

holding onto the flag, he continues to look at you like you’re everything he’s ever needed to breathe. he’s taken his helmet off and you can finally see him fully: brown eyes and all dimples.

“see you’ve found the flag.”

he takes a couple of steps closer to you until only two steps separate him and you, “yeah, someone told me to go win the game so I did just that for her”.

“really now?”

he whispers, “yeah.” 

his eyes twinkle and you’ve never wanted anything more than to continue to stare at them. 

you hope he’ll make the next move but luke castellan, the boy you’ve fallen for in every lifetime, is always content to admire you.

so, you take those two next steps, grab him by his neck, and press your lips to his. 

he stands shocked for a minute, wondering if what’s happening is really happening. but no sooner, he’s dropped the flag on the grass and holds you like your the greatest treasure he’s ever had.

there’s a certain type of tragedy that your golden boy tastes like, fire and freedom all in this moment. it’s the price of redemption and damnation that you’re willing to pay. 

to him, it’s the stars aligning like you’d will them to–the power you held and every thing he’s ever needed. your his past, future, and present: the threads in his life giving him the one thing he’s ever wanted. something he’s only ever dreamed of. 

he pulls back slightly before murmuring, “in every lifetime or the next, i am yours. i don’t know what i did to deserve you. you’re something only out of my dreams, y/n.”

"you sap"

you just kiss him again, ignoring all the campers and those still trickling in. 

✩ ‧₊˚

“definitely a child of dionysius. she’s reduced him to insanity,” pipes up percy as he tears off the petals of the flower he holds in his hand. 

chris just grabs a flower and continues to rip the petals off like the boy beside him. 

“damn straight!” shouts luke toward the two.

[eliotquillon]

looking back i find it so funny how much i was dragging my feet and complaining about wayward being a cassia centric standalone because wayward is now 1000% my favourite of the two books and i care so much more about the side characters in it than the ones in witherward. i have read so much ya fantasy over the years that it’s very rare for my pre-read vibe checks to be wrong but hannah mathewson humbled me so bad with wayward lmaooo

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

ok i need. need. NEED. you all to understand what high support needs autism actually is. not just higher support, but highhhh (high) support.

& honestly me, am not even fit to talk about this!! but knowing popular (often low support) autism content creators & authors tokenize me & include me in justification “well i listen to high support needs people and they need—”

high support needs not just need remind take meds, not even need remind eat, need remind shower. if you think “high support needs” & those struggles come first in mind & see those as most represent of HSN, most classical way of be HSN, then you wrong. you wronggg.

many HSN autistic, not even “advanced” enough (for not have better word) to able use reminders. on average day often need physical help. for a lot, need complete physical help. need complete physical help hold spoon n fork, or not able be a part at all and need other people do it. need be told open mouth chew swallow sometimes. need other people clean up drool & spill from mouth & mess.

they have worth. deserve all the fucking help they need.

“difference between low & high support is not actual amount struggle because all struggle inside same but that high support show more external outside struggle & those struggle more annoying for people around them” hear this so often and make blood boil because cannot be farther from truth yet some you all so loudly proclaim.

then tell me why only hear LSN say this. why only hear LSN on internet. why all big content creator big authors big autistic speakers all LSN.

tell me how someone nonverbal and no robust communication no functional language struggle even nonverbally communicate not even AAC not yet or not ever ever, how that same inside as someone who able speak who speak fluent who able communicate want needs dreams have conversation with words

both struggle. but not fucking same struggle.

many people in between. but you not get use people like them like me to give self shiny credential of “i know high support needs because i listen”

don’t use me. you embarrass me.

[tielt]

This person is awesome.

[daycourtofficial]

Wingspan Matters

Summary: based on this request, you, Nesta, and Feyre catch your mates in a pissing contest over their wingspans

Author’s note: silly little crack hehe

Word count: ~1k

You poured yourself another cup of tea as Feyre and Nesta began squabbling over something you really couldn’t bring yourself to care about. You looked out the window, taking in the nice spring weather. A light breeze was flowing through the trees, causing the branches to move in a dance to the wind’s patterns.

You watch as the birds flit by, their song a lament to the end of winter, as if they too were sending their thanks to the Mother for spring to return. It’s the first warm day in months, the first day that your forearms won’t get cold being exposed to the air.

The life around you seems to dance and sing at the joyous return of spring - insects buzz past the windows, their high pitched frequencies a delight to your ears. You don’t let yourself think for too long about how the resurrection of spring will cause Cassian to snore even louder than before.

Perhaps you and Azriel can plan an escape to the Summer Court for a few weeks. Hopefully the distance and the crashing of waves will be enough to block out Cassian’s loud snoring.

You get lost in a daydream of laying on the beach with Azriel, either in the sand or in hammocks, applying a protective balm to his wings. The sun is warm on your skin, the salty spray of the ocean in your hair.

Muffled shouting disturbs both your daydream and whatever quarrel Nesta and Feyre were in the middle of. The three of you open the doors to the balcony, leaning over the railing to find your mates in a circle in a clearing on the property, their tan skin and large, dark wings making them stand out amidst the greenery that surrounds them. 

Azriel was standing to the side, looking incredibly smug with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches his two brothers. Cassian has a piece of ribbon that he was holding up to Rhysand’s back. The two kept bickering, over what you couldn’t discern.

Before any of you could question what the two were discussing, Rhysand took the ribbon from Cassian and pushed him off. Cassian landed on the ground, but immediately sprung back up, his hands coming up and shoving Rhysand off the rock he was perched on.

“Looks like the bats are finally measuring themselves,” Nesta muses, bringing her cup to her lips.

You could hear Rhys’s laugh from the balcony as he sprung up, keeping low to the ground as he charged at Cassian, his shoulder hitting Cassian’s hips. He pushed Cassian into the ground, causing Cassian to push his weight upwards so the two of them begin rolling around on the ground, punches and curses being shared to and fro. 

Feyre chuckles, “it seems Azriel’s already won.”

Nesta peers back to you over her cup, “I don’t think it’s just Azriel that’s won.”

“Don’t draw yourself up too short, Nes. I think Cassian’s in second place.”

Nesta looks back at you, eyes roaming up and down your frame, “I’m more surprised he hasn’t broken you in half yet.”

Feyre laughs as you reply, “you’d be more surprised if you saw some of the things we do.”

You waggle your eyebrows at Nesta as Feyre continues laughing, but Nesta’s not quick enough to hide her smirk without your notice.

“How long do we wait until we have them measure Feyre’s wings?” you ask.

Feyre thinks for a moment, hand on her chin, “maybe when Azriel gets a little too cocky.”

“Or Rhysand gets too pouty,” Nesta adds.

From across the courtyard, you could see Azriel’s amused smirk as his eyes met yours, a light tug on the bond urging you to keep your gaze on him. You smile, pulling back softly. He raises his eyebrows up and down a few times, and you send some amusement down the bond as you roll your eyes at him.

He stretches his wings out at your attention, making them as large as he can. You’re pretty certain you’ve seen birds do similar things in mating rituals, but the unfortunate thing is seems to actually be working on you.

He looks over to his brothers, still rolling around in the dirt, and gently takes off for a short flight up to the balcony the three of you are on. He lands softly in front of you, his wings creating a small wind, his chest glowing in the sunlight as his hands reach for you, pulling you into him by your hips.

You melt into him, arms going around his waist, your head resting over his heart as he supports your weight with the railing behind him. The warmth from his skin is soothing without being overbearingly hot.

“They make me want to gag,” Nesta tells Feyre, and you move your head so you can see the two pairs of eyes looking back to the two of you. Azriel wraps his wings around you, making you nearly impossible to see if it weren’t for your feet. You can hear the smile on Nesta’s face at her words, though.

You weasel an opening between Azriel’s arms so you can make eye contact with Nesta as you tell her, “he makes me gag too,” as you make an obscene gesture with your hand.

Nesta’s face immediately goes into her hands while Feyre chuckles, but her laughs are drowned out by the male in front of you, his laugh rumbling in his chest beneath your ear.

He peers down at you, one eyebrow raised in question. You nod slightly, and the two of you vanish into his shadows, leaving Feyre and Nesta to watch their mates continue to fight in the dirt, forgetting who really won the competition.