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snapbookreviews · 4 months

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Fall 2023 Behind-the-Scenes Reading

Do YOU want to see what I spent my first semester in grad school reading? Of course you do. (There's a lot of Indigenous and queer scholarship.)

Usually, when I finish a reading that I know will be on the quarterly post, I write the small blurb as soon as I’m done, and I did start this semester doing that… but then came the annotated bibliography assignment. I had to stop doing blog write ups of my reading, because I had a big academic write up of my reading to do. But I’m back now! (It’s winter break and I only have teaching prep to…

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#aaron h. devor #adam stranz #autobiographical text archive and activism #bagele chilisa #bodies in flux #brian jackson #cana uluak itchuaqiyaq #christa teston #emily legg #equipping technical communicators for social justice work #girls in flight #i&039;m surprised this hasn&039;t happened before: an indigenous examination of uxd failure during the hawaii missle false alarm #in ceremony with grandmother water spider #indigenous research methodologies #inupiat ilitqusiat: an indigenous ethics approach for working with marginalized knowledges in technical communication #jamie noguchi #jeremy whitley #lara wilson #linda m. morra #out of the closet into the archive #putting trans history on the shelves #queer phenomenology #sarah beth hopton #school for extraterrestrial girls #teaching mindful writers #the tarot of tech: foretelling the social justice impacts of our designs

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nwarrior777 · 10 months

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i was a bad person and here is my big message about it

even tumblr couldn't hold this much of a post so i made it under the cut. well. i was trying to write it for YEARS sooo i guess it's a little hard to squish in something small

i am frightened of seeing your reaction on this post but. it needs to be made. i wanted to make it for years. if not now then when?

long story about one fundamental thing i deeply regret and want to leave in the past and move on, and today is the perfect time to talk about it.

so. as i told, yesterday was my 26 birthday. and it was a special one. cause i gave it concept

26 years. 25+1. for me it means that half of my life is behind me. (maybe 1/3 if i will be lucky). i decided my 26 birthday will be beginning of my new era. i will leave my past behind and will go into my. present.

the problem is that my past is soooo fucked up

i did a lot of cringe bad things, WHICH I DEEPLY REGRET ABOUT but i want to tell you about one, which is haunting me the most. i thought about writing post about it sooo much times, i tried, but i couldn't do it everytime because then i thought about it i felt soooo ashamed and just burning in selfhate so what's the thing and why exactly this thing I want to tell you about above all of the things which i regret? well because now i am totally opposite person to that mindset which i am ashamed of so! pls keep in mind that i REGRET having that mindset. i think i realized that it's something not good in my 19 years old (my 19 years old is my turning point in life in general), now i am one day 26, but it's still was hunting me!!! 6 fucking years of constant shame and hating myself!!! at this moment i got rid of this thing in my mind and actions completely, and i want to put the final nail in the coffin by this post. so!!! i.. H A D (NOW I DON’T!!!)... fat fetish :c ( * internal screaming full of fear, selfhate and realising that i can hurt someone's feeling by that * ) i almost always had complicated relationships with fatness. first anorexia, but, at the same time then i hated my body i realized that i find fat people beautiful, hot even? (mostly masculine dudes? i don't remember that i thought about others?). and then i got into my horny ~18 yeaaars and ehhhh i was exploring my horny feelings and preferences. i was deep diving in that fat fetish content, i even made sooome drawings (I think I posted, ~2 on internet AND I HATE THE FACT THAT THEY EXIST SO MUCH). and. next thing will sound naive. but. people who do bad things are always dumb and don't realize basic shit. so. i haven't seen anything bad in fat fetish. and at this time i already had my own moral compass, which i still have AND it helped me get out of this my moral compass: if it hurts someone - it's bad. if not – then it’s fine. and my depiction of fat fetish was reversed in my head. i thought that people participating in it.. feeling sexy and validated? that it's something powerful (I DON'T THINK THIS WAY NOW!) but then i saw one post

it was a person, saying, that they saw a content with fetishization of their appearance and they felt uncomfortable and humiliated by it

and i was like "wait what??? fetishes make people sad??? IT SOMETHING WHAT HURTS SOMEONE??? It's!!! It's... a bad thing!!!"

and i think since then i started to go away from it?

and it's not a second, day or month. you know that getting rid of cigarettes is hard and takes time, right? imagine how hard and how much time will take getting away from moral mindset mistake

if you do something bad it usually means that it is deep in your life

it's hard to go away from people with same mindset, your actions in the past which you thought was fine are now your shame etc etc

but!!! i've been working on myself. i don't want to hurt people, and yeah, hurting someone's feelings counts too.

sooo time was going by and it was less and less fetish content in my corner of internet. i realized that fetish is NOT something powerful and cool or sexy. representation is!!! you can draw gorgeous powerful sexy person without fetishization. actually people on fetish art... well, sometimes they don't even look like people. more like fucked up sex toys. it's so wrong, so bad and i am so ashamed that at some point of my life i thought it's something not awful

then i got into art community, more queer and bodypositive, i learned how to love my body, accepted it at 100% beat the fuck up anorexia. my feed in all the social media are now queer/bodypositive/artists usually all at once. if i see fetish blog reblogging me (i can't check every one but sometimes it happens) i ban it and

and now i don't watch any fetish content, don't have fantasies or dreams about that. now even if i see some content by accident (then you are in internet, you sometimes see shit which you don't want to see, like idk, some fetish blog relogging my art) it makes me feel uncomfortable and i don't turn on at all.

it was the last thing of this to defeat - physical desire. It’s like addiction, sometimes i wanted to watch Fetish Horny Content sooooo bad that it literally was on physicall level, and i just, well, watched and blamed myself for that after

and here is a little strange part, because one day it just... disappeared? with all my libido. aand honestly, it's fine, maybe i can't get turn on at all, but better not feeling libido at all then having it and having this shit in the head. aaaand also i have kiinda same emotions from... art. like cool art. in general. like, show me a good dramatical movie, some cool music, some touching piece of art, cool fucking made edit - i am shivering and crying tears of joy. i have this sooo, yep, it's enough for me, and i can survive loosing libido, if it's price for taking fetish from my head - shut up and take my... libido (okay that part turn out kinda goofy but like, let’s take it as lightning the mood because all the post is some fucked up dark shit)

so yeah. long story short, i was a cringe bad person and i regret that. i've done many cringe things but i decided to tell you exactly about this one because it is fundamental thing in my life and, as you can see, my art

as you could notice, all my characters are fat. and i am trying my best to draw them respectfully. goal of my life is trying to be good person (trying because you can never be sure that you are 100% right. you need to listen people and be ready to change. it's never ending road. what's why i use word "trying". you can't "be" good. only try) goal of my art is to bring people happiness by art, and representation is my method.

i feel very ashamed of that fact that i was participated in phenomen like fat fetish and now i make opposite thing - draw art, based on representation of fat people (and also queer and having other features but this post is not about that)

aaand yeah, sounds not very nice

but... i just hope that you can see that i am drawing fat people with respect. yes, a lot of time my characters presented as sexy. but i am trying to draw fat characters sexiness in respectful way. i've seen fetish art - and i am trying to draw NOT like that.

i learned my lesson. i don't want EVER draw fetish art again. i want!!! draw good things which brings people joy. i deeply sorry for that fetish thing was in my mind. but it's gone. I fought it in me for years, i won, fuck this thing. i want this thing stay in the past!!!!!

and brain, stop fucking hunting me with "whEn thEy wIll KnoW thEy Will Be All DissApoinTed in YoU!! ALL YOUR ART INFLUENCE WILL ZERO OUT THEN PEOPLE WILL FIND OUT!!!" these thoughts were been killing me for YEARS

i am deeply ashamed of having fat fetish phaze. but it's over. i learned that it's bad, i don't want to have it in my life ever again. and i don't want my drawings of fat people be part of it. i do it for different reason - to make representative art, which bring people joy, not hurting them.

i was carry this self-fight for years. and this day, my 26 birthday, seems like perfect day to finally leave this shit in the past and move on. i mean, i realised that it's a bad thing ~5-6 years ago. but my brain didn't let go thoughts about that. i am done with this. i want to break free from this shame. i hope i can have a second chance on that...

i really hope that you guys will be able to get joy from my art after that. i got rid of this shit in my mind, i promise. just. please don't turn back from me because because of this mistake. if you can.

(pls, if you have words of support, leave a comment. idea of this post was hunting me for years, and now it finally written. it's finally out of my chest. i want to get free from this. thank you)

#sorry if the thing turned out messy #last parts are the most messy i guess #but i hope #it have. like. meaning #i want to get this skeleton out my closet #i was writing this all day #there was a moment then i thought i delited the note on the phone with this by accident in the evening #then i was almost done #and i was so furious #but no i just get it in archive or smth #anyway #i am just dumping the info now #i need to sleep #pressing “post” button and going to bed #eh #i feel so shitty #ehhhhh #but. some day i had to make this post

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adaine-party-wizard · 2 months

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yall. for my one class we had to pitch an exhibition, and of all the groups two would be chosen- one for a virtual and one for an in person exhibition. after watching all the pitches i didn’t think we’d get it, like some of the other groups had layouts ready and logos mocked up and it felt like we hadn’t done enough BUT!!! we got the virtual exhibition AND!!! they’re gonna bring ours in person for pride month!!! gay bitches STAY WINNING!!

#the devil lillith on my shoulder #our pitch was called out of the closet and into the street (name from a queer pin in a local archive)#and we were looking at using garments in the collection to refer to gay history and queer them with historical and modern queer signifiers #or reinterpreting these historical pieces through a modern queer lens #and they liked it so much they said PRIDE MONTH IS FOR YOU BABY

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short666bread · 2 years

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I have seen Doesn’t Know How Normal Clothes Work Draco and I have seen Well Dressed In An Italian Leather Shoes Way Draco but where is the Unhinged Fashion Draco representation in the media?

#dracos not mad just vehement #this was rly just me trying to figure out another new brush #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry #subversive basics #dracos got a second archive fashion closet #doodle

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tryst-art-archive · 1 year

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November 2010: Self Portrait Project

(The text on the mirror is "Walk softly and carry a big DICK")

These are shots I was considering printing but never did:

Contact sheets and the printed shots without adjustments during printing are below the cut.

#old art #art archive #photography #bw photography #analog photography #self portrait #me #10s #2010 #Age 19 #photographed myself literally in/coming out of a closet like my dude #how did you not know you were queer

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kamalghazi · 2 years

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SPACES, ANNEXED – Should not have been – by Kamal Ghazi

“Nothing here should have ever been.”

MY NAME IS KAMAL.

I, PERFECTION

Memoir 1.1

My life has been a collective problem. Since the day of my birth, my name has been the first of problems yet to come, and, possibly, the first major one of them until today. My mother, the strong-willed civil engineer, who had love and cherished her father so deeply that she wanted her first born child, who is also a masculine child—which represents good and a blessing in a culture that dominantly favors the masculine over the feminine—to be named after her father; whose name meant: PERFECTION. And so had he always been in her eyes, ever since she had the efficient consciousness to comprehend the world around her and to understand the importance of work for the individual and for the group altogether. Henceforth, she tried as much as she had been capable of to follow in his footsteps. Her father—who is my grandfather—for some reason I have never known of, had found himself in the unfortunate circumstances of having to work, since the age of ten years old, and to provide for his numerous family members, which consisted solely of females, who had not been able to work due to the social barriers of the era, 1939. Although my grandfather had had a younger brother, who had been born in 1948, nearly ten years younger than my grandfather used to be, however, his brother had been always treated like a son of his, and to my mother (whom had been the elder child) and her siblings, although they called him “father”, he had always remained a big brother in practice, not an uncle at all. For many years, a tiny two-bedroom flat held the happy family of thirteen members; eight siblings, uncle, aunts, grandmother—whom my mother had been named after, which, by the way, the literal interpretation of her name means: THE GREAT–in addition to individuals all of my grandfather’s side (since my grandmother had been forbidden from having tight nor strong contact with her family members under any circumstances). However, in such tiny space the way her father kept order inside such incomprehensive crowdedness, and provided for them all equally, made her realize that this man had been extraordinary; not only had he been in her eyes, but in every other person who had had a direct connection with him, as he was both feared and respected, and, in the same time, he was loved; an extremely a combination she was able to attain along her life—which in itself is an undeniable achievement, which had never been forgotten by my mother. In a heavily male dominated culture like this, when the first newborn masculine is named after his grandfather to his mother, this is taken as a feature of shame to the father as well as a sign of weakness against his wife. Therefore, my father named me legally, Kamal al-Din, which means Perfection of Religion, after the Sheikh he used to follow back then. But never I have felt that my name ever had been with al-Din attached to it. Everybody knows me as Kamal. Nothing Else. This represents the war between my father and my mother, that went on and on, while I paid a heavy price for.

Between two pinks—I AM

I, PERFECTION

Memoir 1.2

Bi. Queer. Drug-addict. Seductive. Self-centered. Disturbed. Gifted. Disordered. Exhibitionist. Calm. Talkative. Quiet. Kinky. Fetish. Lover. Lusty. Desirer. Hunter/hunted. Dancer. Stylish. Cool. Handsome. Reckless. Taker. Lazy. Risky. Idle. Giver. Kind. Cunning. Curious. Playful. Lustful. Wondrous. Wonderer. Wanderer. Loner. Desperate. Dependent. Pleasant. Charming. Thoughtful. Unique. Egotistical. Psycho. Skeptical. Ungrateful. Forgetful. Broke. Workless. Horny. Intelligent. Stupid. Dangerous. Thinker. Intellectual. Sick. Creative. Artist. Womanizer. Quitter. Careless. Violent. Sex. Drugs. Creation.

‘‘C’est la vie.“

#about #about the author #archives #bio #secret #first post #in the closet #coming out #filmmaker #writer #intro post #test post #testtag

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thetreetopinn · 5 months

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Sources for Somerton's Plagiarism from Hbomberguy's Video (as much as I could get)

I went back through Harry's video, focused entirely on the sources James Somerton pulled from in the hopes of creating as much of a comprehensive list as I could--though my Google-Fu is not very strong. I did however find something I thought was forever lost and that made me very happy--specifically the magazine Midlands Zone containing the column by Steven Spinks that Harry poignantly used as an illustration of gay erasure... while Somerton uses it to sound like HE is waxing remorseful about the very subject.

This is not a complete list, I'm sure. For one thing, I was only able to attempt to pull sources that Harry himself mentioned in the video. Surely there's so very much more out there. I expect there to be a great deal more internet archeology to unearth just how much writing and culture Somerton has stolen like he's the British Museum of Natural History but for gay people.

- - - - -

Harry's list of mentioned youtubers:

Alexander Avila - https://www.youtube.com/@alexander_avila Matt Baume - https://www.youtube.com/@MattBaume Khadija Mbowe - https://www.youtube.com/@KhadijaMbowe Lady Emily - https://www.youtube.com/@LadyEmilyPresents Shanspeare - https://www.youtube.com/@Shanspeare RickiHirsch - https://www.youtube.com/@RickiHirsch VerilyBitchie - https://www.youtube.com/@verilybitchie

Harry created a convenient playlist of videos by these and other people he wants to bring to everyone's attention.

Please give them your support.

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Midlands Zone Magazine - Column by Steven Spinks

After a great deal of searching, I found an archive of the "Midlands Zone" magazine, where you can read through past issues dating all the way back to February 2014. I have also found the issue from which Somerton took Spinks' poignant discussion of gay erasure: Overall archive Specific Issue - Pages 16-17

It will not allow you to download it, but you can read it exactly as it appeared in print form.

- - - - -

My best effort to find the exact book or article Somerton lifted from to be able to get attention to the original writers

Tinker Bells and Evil Queens By Sean Griffin

The Celluloid Closet By Vito Russo Wikipedia article about the book Wikipedia article about the documentary My weak google-fu could not find where you can access the book or documentary. Check your local municipal or university library for book or documentary, or if you know a good source for one or both, please reblog with it added

Camp and the Gay Sensibility By Jack Babuscio

The Groundbreaking Queerness of Disney's Mulan By Jes Tom Personal site with links to social media accounts

Why Rebel Without a Cause was a milestone for gay rights By Peter Howell

Why "The Craft" is still the best Halloween coming out movie By Andrew Park

Opinion: From facehuggers to phallic tails, is 'Alien' one of the queerest films ever? By Dani Leever

Women and Queerness in Horror: Jennifer's Body By Zoe Fortier

[Pride 2019] We Have Such Sights to Show You: Hellraiser and the Spectrum of Queerness By Alejandra Gonzalez

Revealing the Hellbound Heart of Clive Barker's 'Hellraiser' By Colin Arason

Queering James Cameron's Aliens (1986) By Bart Bishop

Demeter and Persephone in space: transformation, femininity, and myth in the 'Alien' films By David Greven

Fears of a millennial masculinity: Scream's queer killers By David Greven (Scholarly site, unable to access original work, offers a way to request a full copy of the text in PDF)

Queer Subtext in Stephen King's It - Part 1: 'Reddie' Character Analysis By Rachel Brands Rachel is the very unfortunate lady who found out she was being stolen from because she supported Somerton through Patreon and saw one of his videos early with her writing--lacking any form of citation or credit

How 'It: Chapter Two' Leaves Richie Tozier Behind By Joelle Monique

When Horror Becomes Strength: Queer Armor in Stephen King's 'IT' By Alex London

Why Queer People Love Witchcraft By Amanda Kohr

'The Favourite' Queers The Past And The Present By Giorgi Plys-Garzotto

(Wuko) Crush (Mako x Wu) By MoonFlower on YouTube

5 Terrible Movies With Awesome Hidden Meanings By J.F. Sargent

The Radicalization of Sexuality: The Queer Casae of Jeffrey Dahmer By Ian Barnard

Netflix's 'Dahmer' backlash highlights ethical issues in the platform's obsession with true crime By Shivani Dubey

The Possible Disturbing Dissonance Between Hajime Isayama's Beliefs and Attack on Titan's Themes Original Article by "Seldom Musings" (Author has made all posts not related to Attack On Titan private and has retired from the blog)

Everyone Loves Attack on Titan. So Why Does Everyone Hate Attack on Titan? By Gita Jackson

- - - - -

The following people are otherwise named in the video. There are no direct citations of articles or books by them in said video. I am unable to guarantee that I have identified the correct individual.

Darren Elliott-Smith Michaela Barton David Church Claire Sisco King Amanda Howell Jessica Roy

- - - - -

Telos announced and cancelled a film likely based on this book: The Final Girl Support Group - By Grady Hendrix

- - - - -

I refrained from including certain sources.

First off only focusing on Somerton's work.

Secondly not including anything that might be visible enough to not require amplifying their voice (I cannot speak for all of those I have found links to, but journalism is frequently a thankless job).

Thirdly any source that is of a nature that is antithetical to the very existence of the queer community, such as the right-leaning source that didn't make it into Somerton's video, but Harry was able to identify as a source he had considered using.

If you feel I have missed a mentioned source--or you know of a source from material that was not covered in Harry's video--please do not hesitate to reblog with added details.

- - - - -

Please share this information far and wide, and please add to it if you find more material that can be positively identified and linked to the creator/writer.

#hbomberguy #james somerton #Plagiarism #Queer #LGBT #LGBTQIA #youtube #Solidarity #gay erasure #Make them un-erased

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quiet-out-there · 5 months

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Please

summary: When Finnick notices how the reader's drink has been spiked with sex pollen at one of President Snows Balls, he and Peeta make a plan to save her from the special services the victors sometimes provide for the capitol. Finnick causes a distraction, while Peeta makes sure to take the reader away to safety, only the plan doesn’t go accordingly, and ends up with a sex crazed reader stuck on a closet.

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Warnings: sexual content, slight dubious consent, fingering, lots of praise, dom!Peeta??, reader under sex pollen

Notes: This is my first attempt at a shortfic about Peeta Mellark, as I have been quite obsessed with him lately This story is a short fic with little to no plot, so, enjoy the smut ;) For any weird grammar mistake, feel free to correct me for as inglish isn't my first lenguage!

Word count: 6.6k

Giff: @xiaolanhua

Finnick cursed out loud, grabbing the attention of some of the most important and exclusive people in Panem who were nearby. They began to chuckle and whisper among themselves in return, clearly enjoying the sudden outburst of District’s four beloved victor. Peeta, on the other hand, quickly realized something was wrong, politely ending the conversation with an all too eager sponsor who was in the midst of trying to convince him to go back to her room together. She was old, caked with so much makeup her features were almost unrecognizable. Staring at her for too long made Peeta feel uneasy, as if he were in a fever dream, where everything was washed in an eerie distortion, almost normal but not quite.

“Are you okay?” was the first thing he said once he got to Finnick’s side, standing beside one of the absurdly food collapsed tables at one of the ballrooms corners. He was holding a glass filled with sweet smelling liquor, his hand so tightly wrapped around it his knuckles were turning white. Peeta was sure it was going to burst into pieces in just a matter of seconds, so he quickly reached for Finnick’s hand, surprised to find little to no resistance as he took the glass away and set it on the table. The motion seemed to snap Finnick out of whatever trance he had been in, blinking at Peeta as if he were just now assessing his presence there.

“What?” was all he could manage to say, his eyes returning their focus to something far away, the feather of a muscle twitching as he grounded his jaw.

“What's wrong?” Peeta pushed, following the man's gaze in an attempt to understand what he was seeing that was making him so mad. Finnick had a temper, Peeta knew that, but it was always tightly concealed in that calm and easy-going facade he portrayed, his armor against everything. It took quite an effort to make him lose his composure.

“(y/n)” He answered, voice made of steel. Peeta frowned, eyes desperately trying to find what was going on, his chest tightening at the mention of your name, “They dosed her drink with an aphrodisiac powder.”

Peeta’s whole body froze, his eyes snapping back to the man beside him.

“What do you mean aphrodisiac powder, what the hell even is that?”

But Peeta could already imagine what it meant, what they were doing it for. Anger rose in his blood like fire, pumping into his heart, beating so fast it was starting to make it hard for him to breathe -

“Finnick” He managed to get out, hand coming up to grab the man’s arm, turning him to face him.

“I recognized this man talking to Snow earlier” Finnick began, his eyes closing as one of his hands came to massage his temple, as if a piercing headache was making it hard for him to think “He is the one who arranges the customers for-,” he took a deep breath before opening his eyes to meet Peeta's wide ones “ the special services from the victors the capitol sometimes provides”

His stomach churned in a way that threatened to make Peeta vomit every expensive item of food he had ingested tonight, right on the pristine marble floor. He knew exactly what Finnick was talking about. Haymitch had told him about this business Snow ran, a way for him to further control the victors, make them pay for whatever rule breaking he deemed was done on their game, threatening their family’s life as a cost of it. But (y/n) had won fair, she had outsmarted the players, not the capitol, she didn't deserve this, she-

“I have been watching this man all evening, analyzing his moves, trying to figure out who Snow had sold to him,” Finnick continued, interrupting Peeta’s running thoughts. “It was easy enough to discover, with the way he has been practically stalking (y/n) all night.” An exasperated sigh escaped his lips “But something is different this time. He hasn't come up to talk to her and she is completely oblivious to him, as if she doesn't know what Snow has done, as if she hasn't been warned what would happen if she denies”

Her family, massacred. Peeta swallowed, his throat painfully dry all of a sudden.

“That’s when I noticed what he was doing” Finnick’s hands bawled into fists by his sides, his eyes returning to scan the room before returning to Peeta’s, “They are drugging her, filling her with aphrodisiac poison that will make her unable to think of anything more than sex. They are making her into a puppet so they can take advantage of her, avoiding the resistance, the threats, the compromise on her part.”

“That is sick” Peeta breathed out, feeling lightheaded and utterly disgusted.

“People here in the capitol are absolutely rotten” Finnick spat, “I have been a victim of that drug before. It is so potent, it makes it physically painful to deny sex, it forces the body to need it on a primal level, triggering an almost survival instinct.”

Peeta cringed at the thought of Finnick, barely a teen, being a subject to all this.

“We have to do something, we have to save her” Peeta rushed through whispered words, his eyes looking around them in search of anyone who could be eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Yes” Finnick agreed, “But we must do it inconspicuously, or they could end up hurting her even more.”

“What is your plan?” Peeta’s breathing eased a little, his chest loosening at the reminder of Finnick’s clever mind.

“Once the effects of the drugs kick in, she will quickly excuse herself to the bathroom. There, I will intercept the man, distract him. Make a big scene if I must.” The ghost of a smirk pulled at Finnick’s lips at the thought, before it was quickly wiped away as he continued “You will find (y/n) and get her the hell out of here, but not to her room. They will be probably expecting her there” Peeta shuddered at the thought, nodding at Finnick.

“Where is she now?” Peeta inquired, his eyes returning to the crowd, unable to find the girl in question.

“Near Snow’s fountain, to the left side of the room. She is talking to a man with a neon green top hat.”

Peeta found you instantly then, the loud pounding of his heart in his ears drowning any other sound. You looked so beautiful, he couldn't help to notice, with your hair pulled away from your face in an elegant updo, filled with colored jewels that caught and reflected every light on the ball room, like a beacon. Your dress was made of black jewels as well, hugging every hill and dip of your body in an exquisite way, a slit on the side of your hip revealing the tan skin of your right leg. And your smile, so bright as you laughed at some joke the man before you had uttered, it took his breath away- until he realized how your chest was moving rapidly, as if the air entering your lungs wasn't enough, at how your skin was covered in a sheen of sweet, some stray away hairs curling around the nape of your neck and around your face, and at the way your hands had begun to tremble, hiding the away by clasping them tightly behind your back.

“It is starting,” Finnick commented, straightening his shoulders as if preparing himself to move. Peeta did the same, struggling to calm his fast beating heart.

You offered the man another smile, this one polite, apologetic. The man dipped his head and moved out of your way, allowing you to begin moving into the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, towards the other side of the room, where the bathrooms were located. Finnick nodded at Peeta, signaling to start moving the same way as you. They got to there first, and Finnick leaned forward to whisper right on Peeta’s ear, in a gesture that seemed like a warm goodbye from a friend to the ignorant eye.

“I will go for the man, you grab (y/n) and leave right away, don't waste time on explanations until you are both alone and safe.”

Peeta nodded, clasping his back as reassurance. He could do this, he told himself, willing his body to calm down, to gather his anxious thoughts.

Before Finnick finally pulled away, he added in a tense, almost somber tone, so lowly his words almost got forgotten among the chattering crowd.

“Do what you must to help her, she’ll be glad it was you and not someone else.”

Peeta’s brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask what Finnick meant by that, he was already being swallowed by the crowd, disappearing among the vibrant colors, the moving bodies, the discordant music that made Peeta’s teeth greet in discomfort.

Peeta moved onto the side of the bathroom door, acting as if his shoelace had been untied and crouching down to fix it, avoiding anyone starting a conversation with him that could complicate his inconspicuous escape.

It only took a couple of minutes before he heard your voice,

“S-Sorry, excuse me please” You sounded breathless, words tight in your throat, as if the mere effort to get them out was painful.

Peeta got up then, instantly identifying you making your way out of the crowd in a desperate attempt to get to the bathroom. He walked up to you just as you took the door handle in your shaky hand, grabbing your wrist in a secure grip before pulling you along with him, without stopping to say anything. You gasped in shock, stumbling slightly over your feet before you could manage to keep up with his fast pace. You pulled at his hand in an attempt to be let go, but he ignored you, mind only focused on one thing-

The exit door, only a couple of steps away

“Peeta!” you exclaimed as you finally recognized him, struggling to maintain a composure, smile wavering between a frown and a grimace of pain “What the fuck are you doing?” you whispered, feeling as though your vision was shaking, not being able to see people anymore, just shapes and colors merging together in a sickening spin-

You were going to throw up.

“I’m going to be sick” you pleaded, arm now falling limp on his firm grip, deciding to leave fate in his hands- unable to do anything to resist, and knowing deep down Peeta would never hurt you.

Peeta’s heart squeezed on his chest as he heard you, and he opened his mouth to explain -what? he did not know- anything to make you feel better, to help you understand what was going on,

But then a crushing sound vibrated across the room, making people gasp and scream in shock, their attention now focused on the other side of the room.

Finnick

Peeta let out a sigh of relief as he got to the entrance door, which was luckily open, not a peacekeeper in sight. He didn't waste a second to pull you out towards the main hall, where the elevator to the victor's rooms was.

“It will be alright (y/n), I promise” Peeta finally spoke, his voice just above a whisper, as he continued his way with unbreakable determination, both of your steps resonating against the glass floor the only sound in the spacious room “just trust me, okay?”

You felt as if Peeta’s voice was coming from underwater, muffled and far away- But still managed to understand.

“Okay” You replied, unable to voice any other word running through your dizzy brain - Your heart, you realized, it was beating so fast you couldn't catch a breath, and your skin, it felt so uncomfortable, so tight against your body- you wanted to rip it out. And the heat, the fucking heat

Peeta’s hand freed your wrist as he pressed the elevator’s button in a frantic pace, his other coming up to grip your hip, pushing so you stood in front of him, blocking the view of your body with his.

You were so close now, bodies almost pressed together. His smell invaded you like the most intoxicating, addictive perfume you had ever sensed, tightening your chest in a silent hitch of breath - And his touch- so firm and strong, fingers pressing down on the overly sensitive flesh on your hip witch was barely covered in the thin material of your jeweled gown- it set flames through your veins

Peeta heard the rush of voices coming down the hall, right from where you had come, before he felt their quick heels clad steps coming closer. Whatever Finnick had done, it had set a commotion enough to make people begin to retreat to their chambers in a hurry.

His eyes snapped to the elevator, the bright gold number still stuck on the 7th floor, and he realized it wasn't going to come by quick enough - They were already nearing the corner, they were going to catch the both of you, they were going to take you away and hurt you-

He secured your hand in his before he began to pull you further down the hall, your feet struggling to find their footing but managing not to stumble over them as you followed him. There was only one door in the hall, right on the end of it, a black metal block painted in bright gold. Peeta didn't bother to knock on it as he grabbed the handle, twisting it at the same time he pushed the side of his body on it to open it- and to his surprise and utter relief- it did. He didn't waste a second to push you inside, head twisting back one last time to see down the hall, where he noticed a couple of people beginning to appear, their vibrant colors striking against the pristine white walls and gold floor details.

He closed the door behind him, leaving out the light from the hall, engulfing you both in complete darkness. He let out a long breath, his head dropping back against the door frame, a chuckle leaving his chest before he could stop it.

You tried to blink back the darkness, but your eyes were still struggling to adjust. Something was very wrong, you realized, as you couldn't seem to make the air from the space enter your lungs. You stepped back from the man in front of you in an attempt to gain some distance and ground yourself, but you felt the cool jab of metal meet your back- you twisted on the spot, freeing your hand from Peeta’s as you extended your arms in front of you. And you felt, to your utter horror, how on every side you were met with metal railings or the cool feeling of painted concrete walls.

The space was tiny. A closet, of some sorts, you figured with a leap of your heart.

“I can't” you gasped aloud, one hand coming up to clutch your chest, pulling at the absurd number of necklaces that had been wrapped around your neck- it felt as if you were choking “I can't breathe.”

Peeta’s hands were instantly extended in search of you, his eyes wide in an attempt to see something, but only being met with darkness.

“It is okay, hey, I’m here” He whispered, one of his hands brushing your shoulder. The contact made electricity run down your body, and you twisted in an attempt to get away from his touch, managing only to bump into the railing so hard, their contents began to fall onto the floor-

Peta cursed under his breath at the loud sound of stuff crashing against the glass floor, his heart drumming onto his chest as he felt the footsteps from outside alarmingly close.

“Hey, hey calm down” He tried again, his hand grabbing your shoulder this time. And you tried to twist away again, desperate to get away from the warmth, the heat of his body, his burning touch-

it was too much, too much

You pushed into the railing again making it crash against the wall in a loud bang.

“(y/n)” Peeta rushed, his voice tight on his chest in anxiousness. But you didn't hear him, wouldn't hear him, needing to get away, desperately trying to do so-

Peeta felt the voices outside begin to wonder what those noises down the hall were, their loud cackling dimming down as if to hear better. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before somebody came up to investigate,

“Calm down” He ordered, voice low, almost a murmur. You could feel it vibrating on your chest, “We have to stay quiet, or they will find us.”

You tried to reason with his words, to obey, to understand what the fuck was going on - but then a pang of pain shot down your belly, taking the air from your lungs in a rush of a breath, before settling in a tight coil of aching between your legs. It made a whine fall from your lips before you could stop it, eyes closing as you hugged your body tightly.

Peeta’s heart stopped when he felt nearing footsteps, arms shooting forward when he heard your loud whine of pain at the same time, determined now to make you quiet. One hand found your hip as the other your arm, and he didn't waste a second to twist your bodies, so you stood with your back pressed to his chest. One of his strong arms circled your waist, locking you into him in a grip so tight you couldn't move an inch, as his other hand came to your face, palm pressing onto your mouth to silence any noise.

And just like that, your senses cleared, they sharpened, they focused and circled on only one thing-

Him.

The way his warm body was pressed to yours, the feeling of his strong muscled arm wrapped around your waist, the way his chest pushed against you in every intake of breath, the feeling of his heart pounding so loud and fast against your back- and his god damn smell, so sweet and dark and intoxicating- it made the coil deep within your core tighten painfully, breath hitching on your throat.

Peeta strained his ear to hear whatever was going on outside, the footsteps stopping just inches away, its shadow casting beneath the door frame. But it was so hard to concentrate on anything else that the way for body felt pressed to his - so warm he thought you might be having a fever- and the way you were breathing so hard and fast, you were panting against his hand- but he could notice, he could see how much you were trying to do as he said, to stay still and be quiet, even if you were in so much discomfort

“That’s it, calm down” He whispered, lowering his head so his lips were pressed to your ear, making sure only you could hear him. “You are doing so good” he praised, the words warm against your skin.

The way he phrased those words was enough to make a shiver run through your spine and make your head spin with desire. You hadn't noticed the way you had begun to press further onto him, almost as if desperate to be closer, to feel him even further. And his hand, his fucking hand had begun to rub the side of your waist in a comforting way,

You were melting. But you wanted more, you needed more-

Peeta tried to ignore the way you had begun to move against him, how your breathing had changed to something deeper, how your mouth let slip little whines and moans against his hand. He knew it was the drug's effect, he knew you couldn't help it, he knew he had to maintain a clear head, to take care of you and make sure you stayed safe.

And then you felt it, as you ground your body against his, you felt something hard begin to press against your ass. It made something in you snap, a need so desperate and maddening, it made fire rush through your veins as if boiling from the inside out- it made your brain drunk and fuzzy with desire- and the pain, the excruciating coil tightening between your legs, it was too much, too much.

Peeta felt your hand suddenly grip his, moving his arm away from your hip. He felt almost in a daze, as if unable to stop you as you moved it down your body. His breath hitched in your ear as you pressed his hand right between your legs, where you needed him the most. The thin material of your jeweled gown was the only thing standing between his fingers and your pussy- he could feel how warm you were, and cursed aloud when he noticed also how wet.

“We can't” He whispered; voice slightly breaking as he felt you increase the pressure of his fingers “They have drugged you with an aphrodisiac. You are not thinking straight-”

A moan slipped through your lips, muffled by his hand still pressed against your mouth. Peeta's eyes strained on the doorframe, noticing the shadow gone. He almost sighed in relief, until he felt the loud chuckles coming from outside-

they were still there.

Your brain couldn't comprehend anything else but the need for him. A need that was becoming so strong, the pain was unbearable. You could feel tears swell in your eyes as you gasped, your other hand coming up to push away his own from your mouth.

“Please, Peeta, I can't take this anymore- I” you choked on a whine when you felt his other hand slip from away from your body “-I need you, please, just help me.”

You pleaded, head dropping back against his shoulder in utter defeat.

Peeta cursed again, eyes tightening shut as he searched for the will to contain himself, to find a way to reason with you, to make you understand how this was so wrong-

But then he remembered Finnick's words. ‘Do what you must to help her,’ what did he even mean? Was this the only way you could go through this? You would hate him for it, Peeta thought, taking advantage of you like this- but you were in pain, you were literally crying and shaking in his arms, he couldn't stand seeing you like this, it was breaking him-

“Please” you whined, your own hand coming between your legs to relieve some of the pressure there in a futile attempt- you felt absolutely nothing.

“Okay” he murmured against your ear, telling it more to himself than to you, making up his mind. “How can I help you, (y/n), just tell me how.”

You sigh in relief at his words, closing your eyes in anticipation.

“Touch me” you whispered, breathless “Please.”

Peeta felt lightheaded with the way you were so desperate, so needy for him. In any other circumstance, he would have given away with the first please ever uttered from your beautiful lips- because you were always so composed, so strong, so unwavering- hearing you like this was making him almost as desperate for you as you were for him.

“Please what?” Peeta couldn't help to reply, his voice just as breathless as yours, beginning to move his arms, tentatively resting his hands on your hips.

You groaned in frustration, beginning to push yourself away from him so you could turn around to face him when you felt one of his strong hands spread across your abdomen, pushing you right back against him. He was so strong, you couldn't help but think, imagining his hands pushing and pulling other parts, handling you as if it were nothing-

“Please, Peeta” you begged.

Peeta melted at the sound of those tight words in your throat.

“So polite” he praised, finally moving one hand to the side of your hip where the slit of your gown began. His callous warm fingers met your bare skin there and you sighed in content “Such a good girl” he whispered, mouth pressing down just below your right earlobe, in that sensitive spot that felt to good it sent tingles down your body and made you moan out loud before you could stop it-

Peeta’s other hand instantly moved to cover your mouth once again, roughly pushing your head back against his shoulder.

“What was that?” A woman’s voice exclaimed from the hall outside, filled with delight “Sounds like someone’s having a good time!”

Peeta cursed on your ear, the words sounding even more coarse coming out of his mouth.

You whimpered, unable to take the pain between your legs any longer- your heart was beating so fast, it seemed as if you couldn't catch your breath, your skin so taut you thought it might snap over your bones, and the heat- you thought you might pass out

“Shh it’s okay” Peeta tried to calm you, his eyes glued to the shadows now outside of your door. Had they figured someone was inside here? “Be quiet doll, you can do it.”

You nodded your head in a haze, desperate to show him you would do anything he said.

Peeta knew you couldn't take it any longer, practically limp in his arms, trembling in his grip. He took in a shaky deep breath before he began to move the hand on your hip underneath the surprisingly thin material of your gown. Your skin was so smooth and soft, and so, so warm- Peeta had to take a minute to just caress between your hip and upper thigh, savoring the feeling of your tender flesh beneath his rough fingers - before he heard your impatient cry from within his hand covering your mouth. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the shadows beneath the door begin to move away, using the courage to finally dip his fingers between your thighs. His breath hitched when he noticed you didn't have anything under your gown, being met with your bare pussy right beneath his finger, hand freezing in place as the realization of what he was doing, and to whom, dawned on him.

He was about to fuck (y/n), districts four beloved 73rd hunger games victor.

“You are killing me” you mumbled against his palm, desperately pushing your hips forward in an attempt to increase the pressure of his fingers where you needed him most. So, he dipped his hand further, his muscled arm tensing over your belly as he did, bringing you flushed against him. And his fingers, ever so slowly, began to part your folds, his eyes closing as his head dropped down to lean on your shoulders at the feeling of your slick coating his fingers, smoothing his entrance. You bit his hand in an attempt to quiet the moan bubbling on your chest, head pushing back against his shoulder in an attempt to get a grip on yourself.

“So good” he murmured, lips tightly pressed to your ear “So good, so quiet.”

You could feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he began to rub your wetness up and down, right over the bundle of nerves that send electric waves of pleasure down your body. One of your hands came down to grip his arm, pushing it down with further force- Peeta instantly knew what you wanted, what it meant- and he obliged, increasing the pressure and pace of his fingers.

The people outside began to cheer for something, the noise followed by clapping. Peeta didn't waste a second to remove his hand against your mouth, moving it down to your chin as he pushed your head further back, adjusting so his ear was right over your mouth-

“Let me hear you doll” He breathed, his fingers quickening their pace almost desperately so- feeling so good it made your toes curl and your thighs squeeze around his hand. And you moaned, so desperate and needy it would have embarrassed you if it weren't for the fact that that was exactly how you felt for him.

“Peeta” you choked out in a gasp right on his ear, and that was enough to make Peeta lose his mind, a low groan escaping from his own lips, the sound so deep and hoarse it vibrated on his chest.

You could feel his erection pressed on your backside, so hard you knew we wanted you just as much at the moment. And you wanted to feel him, God, it was all you could have ever wanted, so you started to move your hand to your back- until you felt his hand suddenly stop, making you freeze in place. You could hear his ragged breathing, feel his heart pounding against your back-

“Look at me,” He whispered, interrupting the sudden silence. You opened your eyes, surprised to notice how they had adjusted to the darkness, able to see the outlines of the door, the metal railing filled with cleaning supplies- you were in fact, in a closet. And then you looked up, finding his beautiful face before you.

He was so handsome; you had noticed that the first time you saw him. With his big, deep brown eyes and breathtaking smile. And now, with his messy blonde hair, his parted soft lips, his completely darkened eyes-

He looked delicious.

“You are absolutely beautiful” he murmured, the hand on your chin moving up to cup the side of your face. “(y/n)” he continued, a deep breath leaving his lips, fanning your own. You wanted to taste him so badly “You are not on your right mind, this is not what you want.”

You shook your head, exasperated.

“I want you so badly” you voiced in a shuddering breath “If you don't touch me right now, I think I might die.”

You used his stun position to free from his grasp, finally turning so you were face to face. He looked completely disheveled, his white tux discarded on the floor, and his matching shirt completely wrinkled, the first buttons torn and revealing a slit of tanned skin.

“I-” He began but you couldn't resist any longer, shutting him up with a kiss.

His hands were on you instantly, pulling at your hips to position you flush against him, to then wrap his arms around your waist to lock you in place. Your hand snaked to the back of his head, where you tangled them on his hair, slightly pulling it just to hear him groan again- it felt like fuel to the fire inside you. You used the moment to deepen the kiss, meeting his warm tongue inside his mouth. The kiss was desperate, hungry, lips moving feverishly against each other.

Peeta forgot about everything else, about the people on the other side of the door, about getting caught- he could only think about you, about feeling you against him, your lips on his, your tongue on his mouth- he wanted more. His hands began to roam your body, testing, feeling, kneading your soft flesh in a grip so strong you knew would certainly leave bruises. And then they were on your ass, squeezing so tight you moaned against his mouth- and he was lifting you up from the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist-

“I need you” You panted against his lips, finally breaking the kiss. The coil in your lower stomach feeling even more unbearable, the pain was making you see white dots in the corner of your vision “I need you inside me.”

Peeta leaned his forehead to yours, attempting to regain control of himself, to think straight. He sat your body against the railing, separating enough so he could see your face, meet your eyes.

And he stared at you, almost in awe before he spoke again, dropping his head back as if to force himself to stop doing it any longer.

“Your eyes” he breathed out, “they shine so black when you are hot for me.”

You cupped his face between your warm hands, forcing him to face you as you once again begged-

“please”

Peeta wanted nothing more than to oblige - he would have lifted your gown and fucked you right there against the railings- but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn't, not when you were under the effects of a drug that altered your senses, your reasoning.

So, he compromised. Not doing anything was torture to you, or so he told himself, moving so one of his arms could fit between both of your bodies while the other began to lift your gown and gather it just over your hips.

“Are you going to be a good girl and stay quiet?” He panted, his ears once again registering the commotion outside. Seemed like they moved the party to the hall, he realized, glad that the noise had gone louder, hiding what was going on in the little storage closet down the corridor.

“Yes” you whimpered, unable to contain the tears swelling in your eyes due to the pain, and the excitement-

Such a wreck for him, Peeta thought, brain drunk in desire.

“You are the one killing me, (y/n)” he murmured, holding your gaze with eyes so intense you thought he might be looking through you.

And then his hand was between your legs again, slowly rubbing your wet folds, surprised at how they were more so than before. He quicken up the pace faster this time, taking his time in enjoying every sinful sound falling from your lips, your head falling back to lean against the railing- you gasped when you felt his other hand grip your chin, thumb and index finger pressing against your cheeks and forcing you to open your eyes

“Look at me” he panted, and you thought you might cum just by the way he was looking at you with so much hunger-

And then you gasped in shock as without a warning two of his fingers slipped inside you, his thumb continuing to rub on your sensitive clit. Pleasure shocked through your body making you involuntary shake against the rails, the pressure on your lower abdomen coiling impossibly tighter-

“I'm gonna-” you whined, head leaning forward to try and find somewhere to lean on, but Peeta’s grip held you there on place, forcing you to face him.

“Say please” He breathed, lips hovering over yours, his fingers moving in and out of you with the perfect pressure, the perfect pace, and his thumb-

“Peeta” you whimpered.

He could feel how close you were, how your walls clenched around his fingers in the most delicious way- he thought he was close himself to climax, just by the way your face scrunched with pleasure, how your body became undone under his touch-

“Come on doll, ask nicely” He encouraged, needing to hear you beg, just one more time.

“Please” you managed moan.

And he was merciless about it, plunging his fingers into you harder, faster, his thumb rubbing against your clit feverishly, curling his fingers and hitting just the perfect spot-

You become undone with his name on your lips, waves of pleasure erupting from deep within your tummy as the tight coil finally released, toes curling and body jerking. He slowed the pace of his fingers as he continued to ride you out of your orgasm, your shaking body finally collapsing into his, blind with gratification and exhaustion.

Peeta panted against your ear as he finally removed his fingers from inside you, proceeding to hold you tight against him before he lowered you from the railing back onto your feet- until he quickly realized you couldn't stand on your own, arms wrapping securely around your waist and across your back to hold you in place, your own coming up to snake around his neck in a solid embrace.

“Are you alright?” He whispered, his breathing still ragged, heart pounding loudly against your chest pressed to his- you on the other hand, were completely crashing, blood pressure dropping, white stars dancing in the back of your close eyelids.

“hmm” you hummed, struggling to remain conscious.

“I think they left” Peeta voiced his thoughts, frowning in concentration as he listened for any noise outside- but it was completely quiet, he soon realized.

You didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, brain completely fogged with satisfaction, body finally out of pain and completely relaxed on his arms, as if meant to be there all along.

“(y/n)” Peeta shook you, his tone finally above a whisper “Hey, I need you to stay here yeah? stay with me.”

You tried to nod but your head just fell limp against his shoulder-

He smelled so fucking good.

“Thank you?” He replied, amusement clear on his breathless words.

You hadn't realized you had voiced your thoughts out loud, a soft chuckle scaping your lips.

“You are completely out of it, aren't you” He sighed, leaning over you so he rested his chin on top of your head, attempting to calm himself down.

You frowned at the height difference, moving your feet, and realizing you were barefoot, heels completely lost somewhere in the tiny closet.

Once Peeta finally could catch his breath, heart in a slightly normal pace, he stepped closer to the door, your almost limp body secure in his strong arms. He pushed the side of his face flat against the cool metal, concentrating on identifying any sound that could indicate someone on the other side but-

Nothing. Silence.

“Okay” He murmured, nodding “Okay, we are going to come out, yes?”

You mumbled a reply, what? you didn't know, but it was enough to make Peeta nod again. You felt him loosen his grip on you making you react on clinging to him with all your strength, desperate to avoid the loss of contact.

“Hey, I’m here, I won't leave you” He assured you, hands pushing you by the hips to create some space between the two- and you were so completely weak, barely registering your body at all, that you couldn't avoid the separation.

You frowned, opening your mouth to try and object, when you were suddenly being lifted from the ground and up on his arms again, this time in bridal style, with one of his arms holding under your knees as the other secured around your back.

“Romantic” you gushed, chuckling again.

Peeta rolled his eyes, sheepish smile tugging at his lips, as he adjusted his body so his hand could twist the handle and open the door. He loosens a breath he didn't know had been holding as he registered the hall with quick assessing eyes, noticing it completely deserted.

You tried to blink at the sudden light, but it took just a couple of blinks before your eyes dropped closed again, as if the weight of them was impossible to overcome.

“Your room is not safe” He murmured, beginning to make his way to the elevator with you tightly held on to his arms “We will go to mine.”

You nodded, the pull of unconsciousness so strong you were sure it was only a matter of seconds before you were out- so you snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms across his neck and positioning your face right at the nape of his neck, where his smell washed over you and his warmth seeped to your skin.

And just like that, you were out with a content smile plastered on your face.

#peeta mellark #peeta mellark smut #peeta mellark/reader #the hunger games peeta #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta smut #peeta x reader #peeta my beloved #peeta mellark x you #thg #peeta x reader smut #the hunger games smut #peeta mellark/you #peeta mellark imagine #ao3

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thisisnotthenerd · 6 months

Text

something echoes of the solstice really pulled into sharp relief is just how good of a player sam riegel is.

like. the bait and switch of veth not going but luc jumping into the portal as a bratty teenager with stolen gear. level 5 arcane trickster and level 3 wizard (unsure of subclass, likely transmutation. edit: war magic). terrifying that a teenager is on a mission with god-level characters. horrifying to think about. i hope they have a fjorester wedding oneshot like dalen's closet that luc is still grounded at.

adding chaos to the party immediately. everyone put protections on him, as much as they could. he said i'm here to bring a reminder of what the mighty nein was and is. and buttering up the party was deeply funny. especially seeing the dichotomy between caleb and fjord's responses.

sidenote: shoutout to daniel sloss for being another spurt. fully a crash dummy drunken master monk in a kilt. it must have been so cool. triggering traps so the nein didn't take damage within the archive. put the fear of death in luc.

anyway, look at how effective luc was. the invisible mage hand. experimental potion from yeza, which i suspect gave him hp and asis temporarily, but not an expanded spell list. see invisibility in the house to catch trent, when none of the rest of the party could find him, which prompted the antimagic field, beau's hits, and the transition to the second battle map. enlarge on the t-rex for kaiju battle. and the first to damage the egg with a 28 on his attack roll with the security cannon. as a level 8 among level 20s. luc got so much experience out of that battle. no more dying in the fire plane for luc, no sirree.

only 1st and 2nd level spells at base. pretty much comparable to an 8th level spellcaster sidekick or 4th level spellcaster main. big moves from a small lad.

and he's still grounded at the end of the day.

anyway this is a sam riegel/luc "nott the reckless" brenatto appreciation post. he plays a rogue-wizard very well.

#critical role #cr spoilers #the mighty nein #echoes of the solstice #echoes of the solstice spoilers #luc brenatto #sam riegel

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hockeyshmockey · 6 months

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Charles Leclerc Instagram Edit

In which yn is a style icon and charles is..... not that

this has been in the drafts but I just saw a cota pic of Charles and HAD to post it ownxowmexn

twitter

User yn PLS SAVW US? What is he weARING?

User the hair is criminal

User yn needs to dress him all the time he can’t be trusted

Liked by carmenmundt, clfan, and 237,294 others

yourusername errands with my favorite photographer @ arthurleclerc

view 22,320 comments

charlesleclerc betrayal

user I love the relationship she has with his family

user yourusername please help charles with his style pls

liked by carlossainz, f1wags, and 998,230 others

tagged yourusername, joris_tourche

charlesleclerc always thankful for the reset summer break brings. not onto the second half of the season!

view 22,304 comments

user you know yn packed his suitcase

danielricciardo you're looking good! @ yourusername your influence is working

yourusername @ danielricciardo don't worry I had to repack his suitcase after he packed it

user yeah that tracks

liked by isahernandez, f1wags and 534,239 others

tagged charlesleclerc

yourusername relaxation looks good on us

view 18,239 comments

user they are so italian couple core

charlesleclerc thank you for spending this time with me amour, you make life better

user crying in the club

carla.brocker you packed a good wardrobe for him love!

liked by lorenzotl, pierregasly and 1,123,234 others

yourusername paris fashion week archives

view 31,230 comments

franciscagomez you're literally stunning

user charles better keep an eye out

user he's got to keep up his fashion to be with her

liked by ferrarif1, carlabrocker, and 1,324,239 others

tagged yourusername

charlesleclerc I have heard everyone's concerns and have dumped my old clothes and completley revamped my closet. please leave my style alone

view 25,310 comments

pierregasly finally

pleclerc I have been begging you for this, so thank you @ yourusername

user this is so funny

yourusername you are beautiful just the way you are love!

yourusername but this is a good look

#f1 #formula one imagine #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 driver #f1 driver imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 driver #imagine #instagram edit #reader insert #instagram #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader

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