#gag mag

[gag-magazine]

Protecting Your Peace, or Being a Pussy?

By Yellen Art by Raneem Iftekhar

Putting male comedians on a pedestal for so many years of my life was horrid for my mental health. I love their Jester’s privilege. Their pursuit of truth. Their ability to point out the negative realities people don't wish to acknowledge. True catalysts for justice. 

Comedy insidiously slips in revolutionary critique in an extremely palatable manner, due to the very nature of its entertainment. The jokes, these necessary reality checks, hold immense power in reframing thought, twisting taboo into norm. If it’s funny, it’s funny. Audience laughter is visceral. uncontrollable. reflects an acceptance of the underlying principle of the bit. The beginning of a somewhat unconscious questioning—a shift in ingrained ideology, although potentially initially uncomfortable.

I wanted to be like them, but I just grew into a menace, playing my favorite sadistic game whenever possible. This favorite pastime involved going out of my way to make my moral adversaries as uncomfortable as possible, verbalizing the unappetizing elephant in the room. I know what you did last summer. No care for pleasantries: let’s let the dirt rise to the surface. I won’t let this blow over. Cunt. You aren’t hidden. As long as I’m here. I will corner you. Trap you into confession. 

I was always searching for something or someone to trigger me so I can simulate judge and jury, desperately grasping to feel any sort of power or agency in guaranteeing justice. To instigate some revelation about their lacking morality. To catalyze their own self-reflection and potentially inspire real change. You don’t want to let them off hook, allow them to enjoy the party, same as you, living peacefully with what they’ve done. It feels so deeply wrong to settle with your own discomfort as perpetrators go free. Would you let Harvey Weinstein enjoy his meal at the table next to yours? 

But it’s a flawed strategy. On par with cancel culture’s delusion that it actually serves justice. The only one being punished is yourself as you deep dive into a black tar pit. Stuck. bogged down by their darkness. All you are doing is fucking up your nervous system, extending the timeline of your own anger, letting it cramp in your gut. P.S. Comedians are infamously known to be such happy people! Maybe comedy has always been a medium to complain about the things outside our control…to poke fun at our powerlessness. Maybe it’s not this revolutionary instrument of social change you think it is, but merely reaffirms people’s values. You just romanticize being a dick because that’s all you know. 

Protecting your peace isn’t overrated.  Karma will get them. Remind yourself that real change comes from a place of love. You didn’t even make it funny. You just put them in defense mode, clutching their comfort zone and validating their own worth as their humanity is attacked. The opposite of your “intentions.” Self-disillusionment, the process of confronting the violence of your own automatic assumptions and reframing them comes from within…But your anger is righteous and what’s the alternative? Ambivalence? Complacency? It’s a difficult balance.

I’m on a painstaking journey to deconstruct my perfectionism and shift my judgmental lens in the name of self love. I’m typically the biggest victim and the most common target of my seething hatred. In attempting to free my soul from this negativity, I try to remind myself that firstly, it’s ok to fuck up. And secondly, not every moment is a defining moment…But is it, though? Life has this magic essence to it, this circular mirroring of sorts, in which specific microcosms reflect greater patterns. Life is full of fractal reflections between small and large instances: no matter how deep you dig, you arrive on a fraction of the same thing. I usually collect people’s words like trinkets to add to a comprehensive psychological file I reserve in my brain. I’m addicted to retrieving more data to fill in my mental picture. Yes, that data says something. But not everything is a part of a greater pattern. Remember that they are so much more than what you see or hear. You aren’t engaging in critical thought, you are just critical. Keep telling yourself it was always about them and not some grand overcompensation for your own self-hatred. Everything is a mirror, after all. Stop projecting. 

Today it dawned on me how much I’ve really changed. I’ve been making an excruciating effort to be kinder to myself. But in turn, I’ve become a straight up pussy. Now we have arrived at the extremely stupid reason I wrote this piece: because of two petty instances of girls disrespecting me last week. One of them involved some frigid bitch rolling her eyes at me and then ignoring me when I introduced myself. I humbly asked for her name and ignored her cuntiness. The other involved some alt chick cutting me in line. I said under my breath with my head down, “Don’t you hate when people cut?” and the bitch really hit me back with a loud “Ya I fucking hate when people cut” as she cuts. Now, I just said nothing. I’ve never felt like such a narc loser in my entire adult life, even though the concept of a fucking line has to be one of the most basic forms of common curtosy to ever exist. But She won. Hands down. Honestly I can’t even blame her. I have to respect her and I kind of want an enemies to lovers arch for us. 

But anywho, my past self would have paid big money to be awarded any opportunity to deliver some seething comeback her way. But I stood in silence and it’s been haunting me. I can’t believe I’m…chill..now. I stopped subtweeting for the most part on my instagram story because my compulsive desire to put people on blast has gotten me in trouble many a time. I’m growing up, choosing my battles, developing my prefrontal cortex. But I am still riddled with a deep sense of regret over my silence in both these dumb situations. Maybe I should have made a scene. Bowed down to her excellency and profusely apologized for entering her space in medieval english prose. 

God, no one tells you that protecting your peace feels absurdly fucking lame. [redacted]

_________

The original ending to this piece involved me personally naming the bitches that briefly hurt my ego and telling them to go fuck themselves, ironically undermining the healing narrative I championed in this entire article thus far over such petty, insignificant situations cuz its semi-funnyish (at best) commentary on my tendency to revert back to my nasty id instincts no matter how much I try to self-help out of being a chronic hater. But ultimately, the clickbait title of this piece presents a false binary: silence or explicit aggression. But I’ve come to learn that protecting your peace doesn’t make you a pussy; it’s just the opposite.

Let’s take a look at your doomed track record thus far. You allow disrespect to tally up until you reach a breaking point that has almost nothing to do with the straw that breaks the camel's back. Then you continue to publicly pop off on an anonymous adversary on social media, with a shield of comedy and just enough vagueness to avoid communicating directly, promptly and vulnerably. Fighting behind a black screen without even really admitting you’re fighting. Championing plausible deniability to slither out of actually confronting the problem with the person head-on. Calling someone out for some dumb bullshit they probably don’t even remember in a published article where they cannot defend themselves…That’s what being a pussy looks like. Yes, I know: there are people in this world that deserve to be bullied, and yes, it’s a real shame they don’t experience debilitating shame on a daily basis like you do. But ever heard of the saying, “Misery loves company?” You are ohhh, sooo predictable—following the classic “bullied becomes the bully” character arc. So quick to condemn but someone calls you weird once and you crumble. Do you feel less weak now or more than ever? No, no, I’ve got it all wrong? You’re powerful? Extremely secure? Such conviction. Praise be.

[x-mensirens]

Rogue's complicated history and attachment to Magneto

[orchidyoonkook]

Sickness of the mind

[jamessunderlandgf]

Summoning u for a boss fight. Mags and Krauser 🏃‍♀️

HAHSJSHDJSJDJS oh MAN brother

mags would be so enamored with krauser in theory cs in her mind, he is the exact kind of man that would throw her around and get so so rough with her and it makes her all. excited SJNFJSND she would make passes at him shamelessly whenever she got the opportunity cs she wants to know what those big strong arms do. she will literally say that to his face. wildly unbecoming, considering she is the DIRECTOR OF HR but who fucking cares they are building BIOWEAPONS. she is gonna do what she wants and she wants to fuck that man!

and it takes abt two well timed, sexually charged comments from mags before he grips her arm and drags her into her office, swipes everything off of her desk, and lifts her on top of it. and because he would be so pussy whipped after that this would be like. a weekly occurrence xoxo

[meownotgood]

How I tell Denji and Power that I'm dating Aki like

THE PICTURE IS MAKING ME GIGGLE SO MUCH 😭😭

[aster-oak]

had to draw it, will eventually draw martin in scenes wearing this, but for now i'm just taking a break from my essay train

so yeah, here's martin in a gag sailor costume because Peter said he had to

it keeps him lonely

TMA AU where everything is exactly the same, except Martin hast to wear this in season four because Peter said so

[blindedguilt]

Headcanon(? Observations?): About Leonard and Alcohol

tw for alcohol and brief suicide/paedophilia mentions, ofc

If you're going to ask anything personal about Leonard, it's best done over drinks. While typically his depression is nothing hidden if only by demeanour alone, he comparatively becomes near casual in mentioning his wishes for death and particularly the mention of his "secret." He's likely to slip up into revealing even more with proper inquiry outside his own awareness, and just as likely to forget it all the next day.

That said, aside from a slightly clumsier demeanour, (Who could have thought it possible?) Leonard is shockingly more well put together drunk than what most would assume from him at first glance. It may only be when he starts suddenly divulging those deeper facets of his life and self that people can know he's had too much.

[aquamarine-oceanfront]

The Amazing Digital Circus is receiving a manga adaptation in CoroCoro!

Rough translation, from right to left:

Large text on right: "Where is the exit?" Smaller text on right: "The show everyone's talking about, with over 400 million views on YouTube!!" Large text on left: "The world-renowned dark comedy cartoon, fully adapted to comics!"

A few hours ago, the official Japanese TADC Twitter account revealed that a manga adaptation of the series would begin running in the December issue of CoroCoro Ichiban! (to be released on October 21st, 2024). It will also be published simultaneously in the online edition of Weekly CoroCoro Comic - despite the magazine's name, it will still be on a monthly schedule.

So what'll it be like? Well, while every magazine under the CoroCoro brand is generally targeted towards grade schoolers, CoroCoro Ichiban! in particular skews even younger, frequently featuring gag comedies. Furthermore, the author - known mononymously as "Sakura" (咲良) - has experience in that genre, having adapted Nintendo's ARMS into ARMS: Skillful Gag Fight! (ARMS スゴウデギャグファイト！) for the magazine between 2017 and 2018.

However, I'm reasonably confident this adaptation will retain the bleaker edges of the original series. Not only does the above promotional image explicitly call it a "dark comedy" (and further implies it'll be a faithful adaptation by using "完全," translated above as "full"), but this is the page they chose to release as a preview:

Rough translation, again:

(The bit above the logo just means "New series!") [Why is this girl running...?] Gotta hide, gotta hide, gotta hide,

(As a side note: I should mention that the above two images were both taken from the artist's later tweet about the manga, since they were higher quality. They're cropped a little more, but not enough to really infringe on their contents.)

Looking over the QRTs, both Japanese and English responses were equally surprised to learn about this. A couple of Japanese Twitter users were specifically bewildered that it was running in the especially child-focused Ichiban! - here's one as an example:

Very roughly translated:

"A Digital Circus series will run in Weekly CoroCoro Comic!" 👆 Huh?!?! Well, if it's in Weekly CoroCoro, I guess I'll check it out… "Also running in CoroCoro Ichiban! (mag for young children)!" 👆 HUH????!!!!???!!!????!!!!!!!!!?!

Finally, for completeness's sake, here's the last promotional image from the announcement:

[deceptigoon]

so i've been rereading mtmte and during brainstorm's trial there's the background gag of rodimus rearranging the letters on mags's name plaque right. and this is the best he could come up with??

so anyway my bf and i felt compelled to come up with some alternatives which are as follows:

smug rat, rung lust, gaunt murals, lugnut margs, alan gumrust, lung traumas, a glum tuna, anal rug smut, and last but certainly not least, Mr. Gunslut.

[gag-magazine]

To Lebron James, With Love

By Sada Gill

We used to own a guinea pig. I remember buying her from a Petsmart for my brother’s birthday seven years ago. I remember his insistence on buying a male guinea pig. He didn’t know then that most stores in our area only kept female guinea pigs. Ultimately he didn’t care that it was a girl and still decided to name it after his favorite basketball player, Lebron James. I remember my Amma always calling her name in that high-pitched voice we use when we talk to animals or babies and laughing because she was using that voice to say, Lebron James.

She had these big buggy-looking eyes like that one guinea pig from G-Force. We used to call her kaddoo. It means pumpkin in Hindi. That used to be my nickname growing up too. Her space was in this corner of our house, right by where we kept all our houseplants. She died on September 14, 2022. I remember it was during a massive heatwave in California. 

I didn’t know for ten days. I came back home and didn’t notice her cage was missing. I assumed it, or rather, she would be there. My Amma told me later that night that she passed. Died. I asked what they did with the body. She told me that they didn’t know. The old lady that comes to help around the house had done something with her and hadn’t told them. A more accurate interpretation would be that they hadn’t asked. I felt angry that this lady got to carry out Lebron’s last rites, angrier at the fact that she didn’t have any last rites because who has a funeral for a guinea pig? She was probably tossed in the trash with the rest of her old bedding that needed replacing anyway. 

It felt like she never even really existed in the first place. We placed a new plant where her cage used to be. I felt old. I feel old. Guilty too. The type of guilt where you think that maybe you could’ve done something more. (I’m not even sure what “more” in this context even means) Where all you can think about is how somehow this has to be some form of karmic retribution. It has to be. Even though it’s not. Logically, technically it’s not. Still. Some intrinsic part of you can’t seem to shake off that blame. That you are responsible for this death, for the murder of this being, or a murder of being.

I want to look at Lebron James one more time. I want to look her in the eye. I want to hold her. I was always too scared for some reason. I was scared of her. Of what she could do to me. That she might bite me or that I might squeeze too hard while holding her. But now that she's not here I feel brave. Brave because I know that whatever I was scared of her doing, she can’t do anymore. Now, there are no consequences. Instead, there’s just this empty feeling of what-ifs. What-ifs that no longer matter because she’s dead.

When I look at the corner it’s like I can see the ghost of her eyes looking at me. Telling me that one day that’s going to be me. One day I’ll be shrouded in white cloth, my ashes tossed. I can feel her eyes continue to bore into mine. I’m scared to break eye contact. I can feel her in some weird way asking me in a language that only we two, animal to animal, can understand. “Do you belong here?” I don’t know. I felt dizzy and hot. Her eyes never leave mine until for fear of passing out I have to tear my eyes away from that corner. It’s morphed into this different fear of the new meaning that corner now holds. A reminder that all that bravery is a lie because, at the end of the day, I still can’t bring myself to ask the old lady what she did with the body. Because I, like my family, also don’t want to know and don’t want to have to remember. 

[choke-me-joey]

Matching Tattoos

Eddie Munson x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, DO NOT GIVE ANYONE OR YOURSELF TATTOOS AT HOME FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GO TO A PROFESSIONAL THIS IS FICTION AND A VERY UNHYGIENIC SITUATION FOR NEW TATTOOS, blowjobs, gagging, swallowing, friends to lovers, Eddie is so fucking sweet, porn with some plot followed by fluff.

Part 2

"Isn't she pretty?" Eddie grins, producing the homemade tattoo gun from under his bed. Pretty was a very strong word. More like a clump of sketchy looking metal held together with even sketchier looking screws and rubber bands.

You scoff. "If you think she's pretty I'm seriously starting to question your taste, Munson. Going from Chrissy Cunningham to this? That's quite a decline."

Eddie rolls his eyes.

"You're never going to drop that are you? Chrissy was a 5 minute crush, besides, she's been dating that douchebag Jason Carver for ages now." Eddie waves his hand to signify his distate. "Anyway, nowadays my taste is more...refined, thank you very much. Hence why I am going through the world's longest dry spell at the moment. Now shut up, and get on the bed. We're doing this." He buzzes the tattoo gun for extra effect.

"Yessir." Giving him a cheeky salute, you lie down on Eddie's bed as he messes around with the ink, and something crinkles beneath you. Your brow furrows as you dig underneath you, and you pull out a dog eared magazine. You flick through the pages, your cheeks flushing. "Jesus, Eddie, resorting to porno mags? You really are suffering." You throw the crusty magazine at him, laughing. Eddie quickly kicks it under his bed.

"What? I got needs, Y/N, and its not exactly like there's a line of babes wanting to fuck the town freak."

"Not even with the whole struggling rockstar vibe you've got going on?" You cock your eyebrow, shooting him a smirk.

"Right? I should be drowning in pussy," he grins, and you roll your eyes. "Still want it on your hip, right?"

"As long as it can be covered by a bathing suit so my parents don't murder me, have at it."

Eddie gulps as you unbutton your jeans, shimmying your hips out of them and exposing your simple black panties to him. You then roll your shirt up your stomach and tie it in a knot to prevent it from getting in his way.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen you like this before, he'd seen you in a bathing suit hundreds of times but this....this was different. This was you, half naked, on his bed. You that Eddie had been harbouring a crush on for a good year or so now, hence the dry spell. He didn't want anyone else, he wanted you, his best friend, his partner in crime, his girl. Nobody in this deadbeat town even came close, not anymore.

He was ashamed to even admit that the magazine you'd fished out from his bed was merely a distraction tool. So many nights he'd fucked his fist thinking of you, the way your body glistened in the sun that time when you sunbathed out the back of his trailer in that black bikini, the way your breasts threatened to spill out of the cups and your ass peeked out from the bottoms that left very little to the imagination.

He had to get you out of his head. It was sick, it was wrong, you were his best friend. His beautiful, funny, smart, sexy as hell best friend. If he had to beat off to some random chick in a disgustingly cheap porno magazine just to stop him thinking about you, so be it.

But honestly, when you'd asked him to give you a tattoo on your hip, the magazines just weren't doing it anymore.

Eddie cleared his throat. "You sure about this Y/N?"

"Eddie, shut up and ink me already," you smile, playfully nudging him with your foot. "You drew it up, yeah?"

"One bat comin' at ya," Eddie grins, showing you the little stencil he'd drawn. It was an exact copy of the largest bat out of the swarm on his arm. "You know we can never not be friends after this right? Matching tattoos is a pretty big commitment."

"Until death do us part." You teased.

"I fuckin' do," Eddie kissed your hand, making you snort. Your friendship had always been like this, flirty to the point where people were always wondering if you were together or not. But that's all it ever was, all bark and no bite per say. "Can you move your, uh, your-"

"Panties, Eddie? For someone who used the phrase 'drowning in pussy' earlier I refuse to believe 'panties' gets you all flustered." You tease, pushing down your panties and exposing your skin to him.

Eddie can feel his palms sweating as your panties slip dangerously low, almost exposing that dip between your legs. His mouth is as dry as the fucking desert when he catches a glimpse of your smooth, soft skin. God, he wants to put his mouth there. He wants to put his mouth all over you actually. He coughs once more.

"Right, let's do this, pretty girl." He carefully cleans the area you want tattooed with some antiseptic liquid before laying the stencil down, carefully pulling it away to reveal the outline on your skin. "Looks metal, babe, you ready?"

You nod, clutching his comforter in one hand as he brings the needle to your skin and the buzzing starts. You bite your lip as you feel the needle meet your flesh, a searing burning pain but not too unbearable.

As he drags the needle across your soft skin, Eddie is sweating. He's so close to a part of you he desperately wants to explore, to kiss and lick and make you scream his name until you're sobbing in ecstasy. But he can't. Why would someone like you ever be interested in the town freak? The nerdy metalhead that spends his free time planning extensive D&D campaigns, or playing in shitty dive bars to a crowd of not even 10 people didn't compare to the jocks who went to endless parties, or did something better than spending their spring break in their trailer getting high and watching horror movies.

"Whatcha thinking about, handsome?" Your sweet, sweet voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he looks up at you. God, you look like a fucking angel right now, all draped across his bed with your hair over his pillow. He knows he'll be able to smell the shampoo you use on that later.

Eddie, always one to almost never lose his cool, shoots you a cheeky grin.

"Thinkin' about how I could tattoo my name on you, pretty Make sure everyone knows who's girl you are."

"Everyone already knows, I've only got eyes for you, dungeon master."

Fuck, he wishes you wouldn't call him that. Not like this anyway. Not with this amount clothes on. Or not on.

"Less of the dirty talk, you. I'm trying to concentrate here." He growls, wiping the residual ink off your skin, refilling and continuing his work. You try to ignore the throbbing in your panties and how good his hands feel on your bare skin.

-

35 minutes later, it's Eddie's turn. After cleaning and covering your new artwork, you get yourself dressed (much to Eddie's disappointment) and turn to him with a wicked grin.

"Pants off, Munson."

"Yes, ma'am." Copying your salute from earlier, he unbuckles his handcuff belt and undoes his jeans, shimmying out of them and tossing them somewhere in his room. He also pulls off his Hellfire shirt. You raise an eyebrow. "What? Can't risk anything happening to it, I gotta wait another week before I can get more!"

"Alright, nerd, lie down." You smile, rummaging around in your bag for the little design you'd drawn up for him. You pass the small design of the devil from the Hellfire logo to him and he grins.

"That's metal."

"So metal that nobody is gonna see it unless they're going down on you."

"Yeah, but we'll know it's there. It'll be like our dirty little secret, Y/N."

"Hot," you laugh as Eddie lies down, putting his arms behind his head. He tilts his head down towards his hips.

"Get to work, missy."

You'd been practising on that gross fake skin stuff in preparation for this, but nothing could have prepared you for touching Eddie...here. His skin was so soft and warm, and he smelled so good. A mix of his old cologne he'd gotten from you last Christmas, smoke and a hint of sweat. It was so Eddie, it made your heart flutter and somewhere else flutter too.

You think Eddie takes the needle like a champ, but when you look up at him about 20 minutes later, his eyes are screwed shut.

"Hurt that much?" You grin and he shakes his head, eyes still closed.

"Nah, babe, honestly, I'm...fine." He hesitates. You stop for a second, tilting your head to the side in question. You go to wipe off some of the excess ink and your arm brushes over his boxers accidentally.

Oh.

"Eddie, are you-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, don't talk about it." Eddie chokes out, his cheeks flushing. His loose plaid boxers had done a good job of hiding his semi, but when you'd brushed against it, it was game over.

Eddie was hard.

"I-is this like a normal reaction to getting tattooed, or...?" You stutter, your mouth feeling dryer than fucking Gandhi's flip flop.

Eddie sighs, throwing an arm over his face.

"No, it's a normal reaction to a very, very pretty girl hovering near my dick, babe." He says in a small voice. Your cheeks flush as you place the tattoo gun down on his bedside table.

"O-oh. Well, do you want me t-to stop? Or I could help with...I could help you with that?"

Eddie groans behind his arm.

"Babe, don't tease me like that, that's just cruel. 'Sides, wouldn't you feel...weird jerking me off?"

Your mind had not gone to jerking him off. In fact, it had gone a step further.

"Oh, I-I wasn't...I was gonna, um-"

"Blow me?!" Eddie throws his arm off of his face and stares at you, and you pretend you don't notice his cock jumping in his boxers. "You, my super hot best friend Y/N, are seriously offering to suck my dick right now?!"

"I-I’m sorry-"

"Sorry?! What the fuck are you sorry for?! Making all my wet dreams come true?!"

You giggle. "Eddie, shut up."

"No, I'm serious, Y/N, you've been in here-" he sits up and taps the side of his head "-doing some nasty shit for so fucking long. Why do you think I'm jacking off to shitty porno mags instead of chasing pussy?"

You're silent, a slow smile spreading across your face as your hand creeps over his crotch, gently palming at his cock which jumps in your hand.

"Well, lucky for you, dungeon master, you've also been the star of my wet dreams."

Eddie falls back onto his pillows with a groan. "Fuck, I can't believe this is actually fucking happening."

"Tell me what you want to do to me, Eds." Your voice is low and sultry as you give him a squeeze. He looks at you, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips. You tug at his boxers, giving him a questioning look. He grabs your wrist.

"Are you sure about this, Y/N? Cos if it's a choice between getting off, or keeping you as my best friend, I'd rather keep you babe. Blue balls and all."

You smile softly; Eddie was too sweet for his own good. It was one of the things you loved most about him.

"What about if you get to get off and still keep me?" You say, pushing his hand away and slowly pulling his boxers down. His cock springs out, slapping against his lower stomach. He was long and thick, uncut with an upwards curve that the very sighmade your pussy clench. You huff out an exasperated laugh. "Holy shit, Eds."

"Good 'holy shit', or bad 'holy shit'?" Eddie's cheeks are flushed as he smirks.

"You know the answer to that." You wrap your hand around his cock, making him hiss as you stroke the silky skin. You pull the foreskin down to expose his angry looking, reddish purple mushroom head, and a drop of precum blurts out. You continue to stroke him, eyes fixed on his face.

"Fuck, stop looking at me like that," Eddie groans, his cock twitching in your hand. "'S too much."

"Like what?" You smirk, straddling his thighs. He can't answer you, any sort of answer immediately wiped from his brain as you lower your mouth to the head of his cock and lick, tasting him for the first time. His hips buck, forcing more of his cock into your mouth, making you gag out of surprise.

"Shit, sorry, sorry," Eddie gasps. "Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good, don't be surprised if I come like, super quick, okay? Been thinking about this for so fucking long you have no idea. And you look....God, you looking so fucking beautiful right now."

You shoot him a soft smile, pressing a kiss to his cock before taking him into your mouth properly, swallowing as much of him down as you can.

Eddie's hand comes to your hair, gently stroking it as you bob your head up and down. The flavour of him blooms over your tongue and makes you hum in appreciation.

"Fuck, babe, your mouth...shit, it's so fucking good, taking my cock so well..."

You pull up and suckle the head, flicking your tongue over the slit. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me, sweetheart."

You smirk, pulling back and pursing your lips, allowing a glob of spit to fall from your mouth onto the head, dribbling down the shaft. Eddie falls back onto the pillows. "That's it, you've killed me, you're blowing a dead man, baby."

"A dead man who's gonna come in my mouth, right?" You mumble, jerking him quickly, your spit allowing your hand to slide over his shaft with ease. Eddie keens, his teeth gritted.

"You can't say shit like that, angel, I'm about ready to blow as it is."

"Do it, I want it." You reply, taking his cock into the warmth of your mouth once more. You allow him to fuck your face, both hands now resting on the back of your head as you swallowed around him.

"Shit, fuck, oh my fucking god, baby, Y/N, I'm gonna come, fuck I'm gonna come so fucking hard in that pretty mouth of yours, yeah? God, you're such a good girl, so good f'me, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck!"

Eddie comes with a broken moan, his hips thrusting upwards and his hands holding you in place as his cock pumps rope after rope of cum down your throat. You moan, relishing the taste of him, which makes Eddie shudder at the overstimulation. You swallow everything he gives you. "Fuck, sweetheart, can you show me?"

You begrudgingly take your mouth off of his cock and open your mouth, tilting your head back slightly and sticking your tongue out to show him that you had indeed swallowed his cum. "Holy shit. I'm gonna get hard again." He groans, his chest heaving and his cock twitching slightly. You giggle and place a kiss to it, and Eddie grabs you, pulling you on top of him, careful to avoid the new ink. "I can kiss you, right?"

"I think we're past that, Eddie" You smile and squeak in surprise as he pulls your face to his, capturing your lips in a hasty kiss. It's a chaste kiss, experimental and you break away briefly. His eyes lock with yours, as if he was trying to search them to see if this was okay. "It's okay, Eds" you whisper, nodding gently. His eyes dart to your mouth and back up to your eyes.

"Do I get to keep you?" He whispers, his fingers softly stroking your cheek. You brush your nose against his.

"You get to keep me."

[martins-canned-peaches]

TMA but it's formatted like The Office. There's still the same amount of deaths and horrors but they just don't take themselves seriously.

MAG 101:

Nikola: "How are you feeling?"

Jon, gagged and bound: [looks deadpan into the camera]

[privctd]

I need a Cal NSFW headcannons please!

OFC POOKIE here you go <3 :)

CALVIN GABRIEL NSFW HEADCANONS

To me Cal would be VERY sadistic in bed he wants you to feel it like REALLY feel it enough to give you pain that man would laugh about it I’m sorry but it’s hot at the same time.

Cal definitely has a ton of porn mags around his room his parents find and give him the whole rant that it isn’t “godly” or whatever but cal does not care after that rant he will grab one and jerk off to it again.

Cal has a knife kink I know a lot of people say he has a gun kink but to me that’s more of a Andre thing I’d like to think cal likes using knifes more I mean this man probably has a whole damn collection and plus he probably has a few “favorite” knives he likes to use specially for you.

When I tell you cal is ANYTHING but gentle in bed…this man is feral he fucks you so hard you won’t be able to walk for DAYS

Cal is PACKING down there definitely I think he’s probably a bit bigger than Andre

Cal would make you suck his dick and literally laugh at you gagging or vomiting a lil bit like he’s crazy I’m sorry

He is a switch but mostly dominant I like to think so a lot of people think he’s a twink but GOD FORBID NO HE IS NAWT

This man will tape videos of himself nutting or whimpering and give them to you as a “gift” or a “sign of love” or some shit

Cal likes dirty talk weather he is giving or receiving he likes to only give praise if he thinks he’s doing a good enough job or you are and when he gives you praise it’s ADDICTIVE the way his voice sounds so soft but mean at the same time while giving you praise is crazy.

He will get boners around you A LOT like a lot a lot

Cal likes to think of you as like his pet his like he owns you and can basically do whatever he pleases with you and I mean if you let him then your feeding into his delusions which is kinda hot turns him on a LOT.

Cal would be the type of guy to be in a public setting and whisper dirty shit into your ear like “you want my dick huh you need it?” Type shit

Cal does NOT use condoms he hates it he feels like it doesn’t feel the same…and if you ask him about it he will side eye you or just flat out ignore you.

I feel like cal likes to make a lot of noises in bed but doesn’t like when you do it just to see you suffer he will smirk down at you as you try not to moan or whimper because you know you’d be in DEEP shit if you ever did

I feel like cal would edge you A LOT he would also hold you down like HARD during sex and if you cry or something it would turn him on more like I said this man is a COMPLETE sadist in bed.

Okay that’s all I got for now I rlly hope they r okay lol 😭🎀

[tenjikufag]

Got to thinking, a thunkle-ing if you will; not so a request but me chucking a ball of something at you and getting opinion

So, I've seen lots of fics where the reader is already familiar with the fun times, Laios opposite to them

I LEGITIMATELY would like to think if both were virgins that their first time would more so be, scientific and nerdy LMAO in the best way means

Idk, feel like it'd be a odd thing of, Laios is book based, on how it goes or the "effects", reader more-so through word from other folks (probably same w/Laios but eh), but it turns more into a poke and prod session than anything 'what's this do? Oh cool wowzas' but fun no less

That, or I'm easily swayed into getting all science-y and stuff XD

OOOO I like this idea and I’ve thought about it atleast a handful of times!!

Read under the cut! AMAB anatomy used. Switch!Laios and Reader !! NSFW, MDNI

Virgin Laios is sooooo realistic, far more than him having any experience imo- come on, the man’s social queues are barely there to have friendships outside of falin and the party; definitely not getting anywhere near romantic or intimate until it came to you.

Virgin YOU, oh you guys are fun to write. I adore when I get to write you guys as pent up little freaks.

The two of you being nerds and barely working up to being partners is one thing, intimacy is a whole other ball game! As you mentioned, he would look at it like an “experiment” of sorts. I have no doubt that he’d acquired a couple porn mags/books from browsing the romance section with Marcille- he’s an all around learner but visuals are always nice!

The faint arousal he’d feel reading said smut (all in the name of research) is about as close as he gets to actually touching himself before he met you; someone he would trust enough to experiment with. He’s not stupid, he knows what sex is he’s just never done it before! It’s nerve-wracking and despite how bold and nonchalant this big guy can be, it still burns a blush across his pale skin up to the tips of his ears!

I also imagine that it wouldn’t be full blown sex right off the bat, more so ‘sessions’, periods of ‘study’.

Laios had it on his mind, there’s no doubt. The two of you had discussed it in passive conversations but never really.. delved into it. Both virgins who knew the respected counterpart was in the same playing field.

Imagine it as your typical one on one “study”, typical banter of ideas bouncing around.

Happened to read into mating rituals of different monsters, intently scribing the words of their anatomy into your notebooks.

“I wonder what it feels like..”

It doesn’t take a genius to know how this goes, I’ll let you imagine the scenario and conversation leading up to it.

—

It would start out with mutual masturbation, jerking off infront of eachother and observing every sweet sound that left either of your mouths. Uncut, cut, whatever you had, it didn’t matter or keep the slick sounds from furnishing the room.

Moving on, breaking the barrier of only touching yourselves-

You’d pump each others dicks together, trying to match the pace of the others hand- it wasn’t a race, neither of you lasted long regardless.

FROTTING.

Rubbing your dicks against each other, the friction far more satisfying than a hand could be- unknowingly building your staminas with the desperate ruts against each other.

He was the first to take the plunge into oral, having slyly tasted himself or even you from what dribbled onto his fingers. It was intoxicating, that’s putting it lightly.

Of course, no experience means there was lots of training needed. ‘Research’ as he’d say, trying to learn how to control his gag reflex, trying to keep himself from instinctively biting down just because something was in his mouth. You tasted so good though, he couldn’t help himself so expect teeth dragging across you- whether you’re into it or not, you don’t have a choice early on. And vice-versa of course! Maybe without the infatuation with the taste of him, well.. maybe just not to the degree he experiences..

But when you end up on the giving end, he’s white knuckled and baring down on his shirt to keep himself quiet- expect big loads from this guy. And expect them to come quick.

Now, down to the nitty and gritty. Because that’s what it is.

All the porn and smutty stories could only prepare you so much for the feeling of your ass being metaphorically torn open.

You’re the first to try it out, admitting to having tried to play with your ass in the past but never getting anywhere. It was slow, painfully so. Tears in your eyes and Laios clutching his jaw painfully tight to keep himself from busting with just the head of his dick inside.

When it came to him, obviously he knew what and how to prepare after the fiasco you experienced..(poor you). Came with far more lube and had read about how to ‘open’ himself up to make it easier.

And he adored how it felt.

It was better than feeling full off of his favourite meal.

The two of you lasted far longer when it came to him bottoming- even if it wasn’t that long, it was progress as satisfying to the both of you.

Sessions would continue between each other.

The two of you took each others virginities, and basically all of the other firsts you’d imagine. Now that’s a job well done!

Patience, preparation, and studying rewards those who wait or whatever the saying is.

I hope we are on the same wavelength, if not tell me more about what your thoughts are- I’d loveeee to hear them.

[spatialwave]

Can you do an Angus Tully NSFW alphabet?

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐒 𝐓𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 – 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭.

notes: 18+. fem!reader/college au. 18+ characters. thank you for asking me to do this. <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

angus tully is a darling with aftercare, something that comes naturally to him. he loves to pepper your face with chaste kisses and coo gentle praises in your ear as you cuddle. if you don’t use a condom he’ll make sure to get a towel to clean you up, or you two will sneak to the showers together. 

he’s so fucking kind with you—always making sure you know how loved you are after he’s made ruins of you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he loves your tits, they’re his favourite thing in the entire world. he’ll touch them any chance he gets and will constantly ask you to wear something low-cut. it makes him so incredibly hard when you don’t wear a bra, his cock twitching in excitement anytime he can see your hard nipples pressing through your shirt. 

his own favourite body part is his cock. he’s well endowed and you were the one to tell him that. angus thought he was very average, but when you dropped your jaw the first time you saw him hard and naked he grew very smug and not-so-humble. his ego was never the same.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

angus cums a lot and he likes to see it on you. he loves cumming on your face with your tongue sticking out, seeing how it decorates you. he thinks you look so pretty when it dribbles down your chin. 

his favourite place to cum is inside you, though. he ruts into you as he finishes, slowly rocking until he pulls back and watches how it drips out of your pussy. he’ll use his fingers to push it back inside of you, fucking you with them until your reach your peak.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

angus likes stealing your panties after you fuck. he'll keep them to jerk off with, sometimes putting them in his mouth to bite them. when you find out he's embarrassed as hell, but when you suggest that he can use them to cover your moans that becomes his new favourite thing.

anytime you get too loud, he'll bundle up your panties and shove them between your lips as a makeshift gag.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

angus tully has little experience—he’s had his first kiss & made out with girls before. nothing serious, especially since graduating from an all-boys school. when he met you he was lacking in recent experience and was still a virgin. though, after reading enough porno mags, he had a general idea of how to please a woman, but he learned the most from you.

he listens to your soft sounds and whimpers when his fingers curl inside you, how your moans choke in your throat when his tongue circles your clit. he’s a perceptive person, you hardly have to show him a thing and by your third time sleeping together he has you writhing on the bedsheets crying out his name. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he loves when you ride him because he has the perfect view of your tits bouncing. he likes holding onto your hips and helping you bounce up and down on his cock. however, he greatly prefers when you grind on him and fucking yourself on him, his eyes staying focused on you as you moan and mewl as you feel him hit deep inside your pussy.

he also loves the hook position because sometimes he needs to control the pace and fuck you like crazy. your thighs pressed against your chest and calves resting over his shoulders, giving him perfect access to thrust into you as deep and hard as you both crave.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

it depends on the situation. if you’re high, he’s always laughing, especially when you two are kissing—he just feels so elated and happy to be with you. effortlessly pleased and madly in love. early in your relationship, he was goofy too, mostly out of inexperience as you two learned each other’s bodies and made mistakes.

he’s mostly serious now, concentrating on how his cock penetrates you just right and making sure you get nothing less than euphoria.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

angus doesn't groom that much, mostly thanks to hippie culture. he will give himself a good trim if you request it. he also has a happy trail that he's very proud of.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

this is something that depends on your 'style' during the act. if the two of you are feeling desperate and needy, there's little romance and a ton of heady passion. if you're more vanilla and gentle, he'll whisper in your ear how much he loves you, how lucky he is, etc.

he's a romantic at heart, so sometimes he prefers to have those gentler moments with you to remind you of his love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he masturbates so much. it started with porno mags, but now all he needs is to picture your tits and he’s hard and ready to go. he jerks off any chance he gets when he’s alone, which is a lot more now that he has his own dorm room.

he loves watching you masturbate too, his eyes fixated on you while your fingers push inside your pussy and circle your clit. he’ll oftentimes stroke himself when watching, licking his lips as you toy with yourself under his gaze.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

teasing, biting, mild exhibitionism, giving praise, edging/orgasm control, watching you beg for his cock.

angus is a kinky man, but like many others, it comes with the more experience he gets. when he learns about edging, you can say goodbye to the times when you were able to cum as freely as you wanted as he fucks you. now he prefers to tease you and watch you beg for him to put his cock back inside your aching pussy.

(he also has a breeding kink that he's embarrassed about.)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his bed, by far. it's private and away from the other college students, the only downside is having to try to be quiet so the r.a. doesn't knock on his door mid-orgasm again.

angus likes the showers, too. they're not co-ed, but that doesn't stop him from sneaking you into the men's washrooms so you two can fuck in one of the shower stalls. to the boys that pass by, they usually try to ignore the muffled moans coming from the stall with two sets of feet visible from where the curtain ends.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

his biggest turn-on is when you're flirty and touchy with him, especially in public. he likes it when you bat your lashes at him and chew on your lip coyly, or when you're walking through campus together and your fingers brush along his hand slowly and softly–making his skin tingle.

when he's extra sensitive, sometimes he'll need to pull you aside somewhere private so you can get on your knees and take care of the problem you created for him. most of the time you two will decide to skip class and head to his dorm.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

he doesn't like being called daddy... for personal reasons.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves when you suck his cock, seeing the way you look up at him with your mouth and throat full of him. his hands in your hair, tugging as he pushes himself deeper and seeing how tears prick your eyes when he cums.

his preference is eating you out. he wasn't as skillful at first as he is now, so expert in his skills that oftentimes he can make you cum in a few minutes with just his tongue and fingers. he loves how you taste, swirling his tongue around your clit and licking you up and down until his mouth and chin are dripping with your juices. he especially loves when you ride his face because he gets the perfect view of your bouncing tits while indulging in your heat.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

angus usually leans more toward fast and rough with his movements, he isn't sure where exactly he gets his energy from, but lord knows he uses it well. he loves seeing how big of a mess you turn into when he's fucking you from behind with quick, hard thrusts–fingers digging into your hips as you cry out his name with your face shoved into the pillows.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

angus loves quickies, especially the ones that could potentially lead to you two being caught. quick fucks in the showers, a janitor's closet, or hidden in the quietest section of the library. you two don't do them often, but when life gets busy around midterms and finals, you two find yourselves needing those bursts of release.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

the biggest risk angus takes with you is not using condoms. he loves filling your pussy with his come and watching how it spills out of you and he never wants to change that. when you told him you were on the pill it was like all his wildest fantasies came true.

he also likes to experiment with semi-public sex. you giving him head in the back of a dark movie theatre or going shopping and fucking in a changing room.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can go for a looong time because he's learned how to pace himself. there was one time you realized that you'd be fucking for nearly two hours, your bodies were so sore that the next day you both had to skip class because there was no way your legs weren't giving out.

he usually has enough energy to go out at least two rounds, at the very least enough to make sure you still cum after he does.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

angus doesn't own any toys himself, but is curious about them when you mention it. the only toy that you two purchase together is the hitachi magic wand after spotting it in a sex shop. it becomes a staple in your sexual escapades. he loves using it on you, watching how your hips twitch when the vibrations overstimulate you while he fucks you slowly and steadily.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh, how angus loves teasing you. it all started when you two were just friends, he'd notice how his teasing remarks about you would make your cheeks and ears turn red. then, when you two became sexual with each other, he wondered how that would translate into sex.

it worked wonders on him, loving the way you'd blush underneath him when he teases you. "you want my cock so bad, don't you?" he says as he just barely pushes the head of his cock inside of you, smiling when you pout and whine for him to keep going.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he isn't that loud, usually groaning and grunting in your ear with each snap of his hips. his words are breathy and heavy when he talks to you while fucking, his warm breath tickling your ear and neck.

when he cums, though, he'll moan loud enough that you're certain the other students could hear from their dorms. he loves when you're riding on top of him and your hand covers his mouth when he cums, enjoying the bit of dominance you get over him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

if there is one way to get dominance over angus it's to kiss and bite at his neck and ears, it'll leave him melting and begging you to keep going. when you bite and suck at his skin he'll let out the most pitiful, whiny moans and can be convinced to do almost anything.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

angus is a thin and lanky guy, muscle mass isn't his friend and it never will be. you love that about him.

he also has a bigger-than-average dick, that's what you love about him even more. it's around 7.5" and it's decently girthy, but not crazy. the best part about him is that he can actually use it well–lucky you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

angus has a high sex drive and it surprised you. it can even be a little annoying sometimes, especially when you are stressed with homework and he's sitting next to you in the library with his hand trying to find its way into your skirt while hidden under the table. you can't hide the fact that you love the attention and whenever you're in the mood he's ready and waiting patiently.

he always says how he's so lucky to have the hottest girlfriend, so can you blame him for being constantly horny around you?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he's a heavy sleeper. seriously, the dude is like a rock when he falls asleep and he falls asleep fast. one second he'll be cleaning you up with a towel and the next his face is buried into your neck and hair, snoring gently into your ear. it's very cute.

[captainlunaxmen]

All for the Cameras

Chapter 8

Finnick Odair x Fem!reader

Here we go! With this chapter, we officially say goodbye to Chatching Fire, and we will soon enter Mockingjay-part1. I hope you guys will like this, and if you want to be added to the tag list, just tell me♥️♥️♥️

Chapter summary: we're at the Quarter Quell finale.

Chapter warning: Now, Cal is a huge warning himself, Hunger Games cruelty, death, blood.

Tag list.

@guacam011y @justtrying2getby @idontevenknow1359 @alexandra-001 @bambikitten @maggiecc @redh00dsbf @haneybunny @1-800-styles @sisiking99 @merromimo @yourdailymemedelivery @regsg18 @gordorio @bambikitten @gracieeleanorr @shev3nom @honethatty12 @savingprivatecass @erindiggory @martahabla @sterredem @aawdrea @wpdarlingpan @strawberry--fawn @barbarathewanderer @ih8books @a-mysterious-potato @mayonesavegana @celinaiscrying @katherinejess @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @abaker74 @syd649 @meikoo @secretsicanthideanymore @p1stachi @laylasshiftingtonight @yourmumstoy @s0urw00lf

I'm sorry if I can't tag everyone😔🥺

Masterlist

Finnick's POV

They managed to find some food. Finnick decided to catch some, more to distract himself that because he actually needed to eat. His stomach was completely closed after what happened.

He eats with the other because he does need his strengths, but doesn't feel like it at all.

Mags was like a mother and seeing her go like that... broke him.

The only thought keeping him going was Y/n, the thought that they could finally have a chance.

Finnick gets distracted from his thoughts when Peeta, opening one of the oysters, found a pearl. Finnick watches him giving it to Katniss, her accepting it. Finnick takes a moment to notice the way Peeta looks at her, the exact way he looks at Y/n, with adoration. Katniss is a little more reserved, of course, but she does feel something too, even though she doesn't realise it yet.

The sweet moment is interrupted by a loud scream.

"That's new." Peeta says standing up, Katniss and Finnick soon do too.

They look ahead, trees moving and breaking, then a big wave appears, it looks secluded to a section of the arena, but still aiming towards them apparently.

Even though the waves breaks at the cornucopia, it still creates waves towards the beach all around it. Thankfully not big enough to make damages.

As they watch the hovercraft flying to get the body of the dead tribute, Katniss grabs an arrow ready to fight.

"Someone's here." She says.

They all get their weapons, ready to defend themselves. They hide, watching who it was.

When Finnick sees Johanna, along Wiress and Beetee he lets out a sigh of relief, hope growing back in him as he walks to her calling her name.

"Whete the hell have you been?" He asks as soon as they're close enough.

"Me? I was looking for you the entire time, asshole!" Johanna shoots back.

Finnick knows she's not actually angry, rather worried, even though she would never admit it.

"So was I." He says, more calmly, "are you all okay?"

Johanna shrugs.

"Well, I got them out. We were a the way deep into the jungle where I thought it was gonna be safe. That's when the rain started." She starts explaining, while Beetee and Wiress got into the water to clean up, "I thought it was water. It turned out to be blood."

"Tick tock" Wiress comes close repeating the same two words.

"Hot, thick blood." Johanna keeps going as if she didn't notice her, "it was coming down. It was choking us. We were stumbling around, gagging on it, blind. That's when Blight hit the force field."

"Tick tock, tick tock" Wiress keeps talking as Johanna takes a big breath.

"He wasn't much, but it was from home." She says bitterly.

"What's wrong with her?" Katniss asks, referring to Wiress.

"She's in shock," Beetee answers, "dehydration isn't helping. Do you have fresh water?"

"We can get some."

As Johanna tries to, forcefully, stop Wiress from talking, Katniss immediately goes to defend her, almost starting a fight if it weren't for Finnick separating them, leading Johanna away.

"I got them out for you!" She screamed before she got dragged away.

"It's okay, it's okay." Finnick tries to calm her.

"Let me go, Finnick!" She insists, "let me go, I'm fine."

He lets her, and goes to sit down on the sand, soon Peeta joins as Katniss was helping Wiress clean up.

"Are you sure you're okay? I know Mags was important to you... and Y/n." Peeta asks.

"Yeah... uh... it was a possibility we didn't want to acknowledge, but... still a possibility." Finnick sighs, sadly.

"I'm really sorry." Peeta gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"It's alright."

"Can I ask you something?" Peeta suddenly whispers, so no one would hear and Finnick nods, still looking ahead, "your speech at the interviews... was for Y/n, wasn't it?"

Finnick only nods, so does Peeta understanding.

"What a situation, uh?" Finnick says sarcastically.

"Yeah.." Peeta sadly chuckle, then his attention shifts to Beetee, who was messing with a wire of some sort, "what's that?"

Beetee looks up to them, then back at the wire in his hands.

"Something we can use." He simply says before standing up and walking closed to the water.

Finnick and Peeta shares a confused look before shrugging.

The moment interrupted by the lightning hitting the big tree again, 12 times.

"They have out done themselves this time, uh?" Finnick comments once the lightnings stop.

"Yeah..." Peeta breaths out.

They attention is caught by Katniss walking back to them, a determined look on her face.

"I figured it out." She says.

Y/n's POV

"That's the plan?" I ask Plutarch as we talk in his office.

"Yes." He nods, "are you okay with that?"

"Of course, I am." I confirm, "does Haymitch know?"

"Yes, he does."

"Perfect... do you think they will do as you predict?" I ask, again feeling nervous.

"I am positive, they figured out how the Arena works, it's only a matter of time, we need to be ready." He replies, "I suggest you start packing and be ready."

"Got it." I nod, taking a deep breath, I look at Plutarch, who nods his head to give me courage somehow.

There's suddenly a knock on the door.

"Mr Heavensbee? Miss L/n?" One of the Gamemaker peers inside.

"Yes?"

"There's movement." He says.

"We'll be right there in a minute." Plutarch informs him so he can go back to the controll room.

"We still need to keep up the appearance, I know." I sigh.

"All for the cameras, miss L/n. Always."

We walk back into the room, just in time to see Gloss killing Wiress, I can't help the gasp leaving my mouth, it was so unexpected I couldn't stop it.

Plutarch put a hand on my shoulder for a second to make regain my composure.

We need to keep up the appearances, so I just move to one of the Gamemaker, to take a closer look. Katniss immediately kills him, Cashmere, of course, runs to attack her, thankfully Johanna pushes Katniss away and kills the district 1 tribute.

That means the other part of the Career pack is close.

"Keep the cameras on them, the other side there." I point where Finnick and Peeta stands, just in time to frame Brutus and Finnick fighting, Enobaria manages to wound Finnick before running away, thankfully is nothing bad.

Peeta tries to chase them, but Finnick holds him back, letting Katniss and Johanna go instead.

I look up at Plutarch, him already looking at me. Then he looks up and mouths "for the cameras."

He wants me to suggest something believable, to fool the president.

I start to think something that might be an obstacle, that might slow them down, we can't have the Games end now, we still have things to prepare, but it doesn't have to be something... deadly.

Think.

Think.

Think.

Thi.... okay.

"Make the cornucopia spin." I say, the Gamemaker, of course, looks up at Plutarch for confirmation and when he nods the cornucopia starts to spin on itself, making everyone lose balance.

Johanna helps Katniss stay on, as Finnick, Peeta and Beete do the same.

My heart skips a bit when Katniss falls, instinctively look at Plutarch.

"Okay. That's enough." He orders, "good thinking, miss L/n."

"Thank you, sir." I say, breathing heavily from anxiety, "it will be harder for them to tell time."

"Clever." He nods, and I let out a sigh of relief.

It made some trouble, but not too much... Good.

They quickly reunite, and go back to the beach... but a different section. I try to figure out which one it is.

"Brace yourself." Plutarch whispers so slightly to me as he passes by.

I take a quick look at the map, each section is perfectly labelled and I can quickly spot their position. It's the Jabberjays section.

Shit.

I take a deep breath and just wait to see what's going to happen.

They're counting down who might be left still in the games, now. Thankfully, it seems that Brutus and Enobaria are far from them.

"Activate them." Plutarch orders, I force myself not to look at him, because I know he has to do it. We are still not out of trouble, and at the Capitol, appearance is the most important thing.

So once Prim's voice reaches Katniss, she's immediately on her feet, running towards the sound. The rest of the group tries to keep her from going into the forest, to what they suspect is just a made up sound. Finnick is the fastest and immediately reach Katniss, who just shot a bird, finally realising it's fake, like everything else.

"You okay?" He asks, but Katniss can't even respond because another scream breaks in.

I can't help it this time, my eyes shoot up immediately to Plutarch.

That's my voice, screaming at Finnick for help.

Plutarch looks at me, guilty, he motion for me to just take a deep breath and stay calm as Finnick runs towards the sound with Katniss, this time, to convince him to stop.

"It's not her!" She screams at him to gain his attention. "It's just a Jabberjay. It's not her."

"Well, how do you think they got that sound?" He spits back, "Jabberjays copy."

I just want to scream at him that I'm okay, that's just a decoy... my idea nonetheless...

As Gale's voice adds itself into the mix, Katniss and Finnick run away, but unfortunately my idea has another problem.

They bump into the invisible wall, surrounded by all the mutts screaming at them.

Kantiss is holding her hands to her ears, Peeta screams at her, but of course, the wall around the section is supposed to isolate them even more.

I look at Finnick protecting his ears too, he's muttering something, but I can't understand what he's says, the birds screams are too loud. My throat feels tight, I feel the burn of tears ready to come out in my eyes, my chest hurts.

"Miss L/n?" Plutarch calls me, his voice feels so far right now, but I reluctantly look at him, "would you be so kind and go look into my office for the arena projects? I want to check something."

I can only nod and walk to his office, I know he wanted to give an excuse to be alone and recollect myself.

I close the door behind me, and I just lean against it until I sit down on the floor.

It's all my fault, I can't believe I make them suffer like this. Katniss' screams to somehow cover the noise broke my heart, so did Finnick's face.

I did that.

It's my fault.

I have to do everything in my power to get them out...

Finnick's POV

It's Johanna's voice asking him if he were okay to ground Finnick.

After God knows how long he and Katniss were trapped with the Jabberjays screaming at them, the invisible wall vanished and the other were able to rescue them.

Peeta reassures Katniss, telling her that at the Capitol they will never touch Prim.

"Your fiancé's right." Johanna agrees, "the whole country loves your sister. If they tortured her or did anything to her, forget the districts, there would be riots in the damn Capitol." Everyone looks at Johanna, a mixture of surprise and shock for having her reassuring Katniss. But she was not done, "Hey, how does that sound, Snow? What if we... what if we set you backyard on fire? You know, you can't put everybody in here."

The shock is shared between the other tributes as they listen to her screaming.

"What?" She asks, finally noticing, "they can't hurt me. There's no one left that I love. I'll get you some water." She finally says, seeing no one knows what to say... obviously.

They all go to the beach, Finnick put his trident in the sand and goes to sat in the water.

It always calmed him. He remembers the first night at the Capitol after he was reaped.

He couldn't sleep, he didn't even want to, not knowing what the Capitol actually had in store for him surely wouldn't accommodate a good sleep. He remembers he went into the bathroom, to fill the bathtub and get under the water. Unfortunately the bathtub wasn't big enough. When Y/n knocked on the door, he thought she was there to take him back to his room, instead she sneaked the two of them into the pool. There she tried everything she could to calm him, she got into the water with him and lay there with him, talking.

That's when he realised she was not like the rest.

The others looks at him, as they rest, Johanna brought Katniss some water and now they're talking.

"Why did they use Y/n's screams with him?" Katniss asks.

"Really?" Johanna's taken aback by that question. "Have you... haven't you noticed anything?" She slightly scoffs.

"I'm afraid not." Katniss answers flatly.

"Love sometimes is cruel." Johanna simply says.

Katniss thinks for a moment before understanding her words, and can't help but agree with her.

"I have a plan." Beetee suddenly says and everyone gathers around him listening closely.

"Where do the Careers feel safest? The jungle?" He asks the group.

"Jungle's a nightmare." Johanna speaks up.

"Probably here on the beach." Peeta suggests.

"Then why are they not here?" Beete asks once again.

"Because we are. We claimed it." Johanna answers.

"And if we left, they would come." He guesses.

"Or stay hidden in the tree line." Finnick says.

"Which in just over four hours will be soaked with the water from the 10:00 wave. And what happens at midnight?" He speaks as if he is teaching to a class, and wants them to understand the concept before having to say it himself.

"Lightning strikes that tree." Katniss answers, understanding the concept of the plan.

"Here's what I propose. We leave the beach at dusk. We head to the lightning tree. That should draw them back to the beach. Prior to midnight we then run this wire from the tree to the water." He explains, pointing to the tree and then the beach, "anyone in the water or on the damp sand will be electrocuted."

"How do we know the wire's not gon a burn up?" Johanna questions.

"Because I invented it." He replies, with a hint of pride. "I assure you, it won't burn up."

The silence falls as everyone thinks about what to do. Johanna and Finnick looks at each other, they both seem to agree to the plan. Katniss looks at Peeta, worried, and still a little suspicious.

"Well, it better than hunting them down." Johanna agrees.

"Yeah, why not?" Katniss agrees too, "if it fails, no harm done anyway, right?"

"All right, I say we try it." Peeta nods.

"So what can we do to help?" Finnick asks, hoping the real plan will work... quickly.

Y/n's POV.

"Keep me alive for the next six hours. That would be extremely helpful." Beete says to the group.

That's our chance.

Plutarch's in his office with the president, so I'm the one directing the Gamemakers.

"Keep it as close as possible to the lovers." I say, "the Capitol loves them. Give them as much as they want."

They of course want the other to win, and if it goes down to them being the last two one of them would surely sacrifice themselves for the other... I pray we get them all out on time.

Peeta tries to convince her, she is the one who should live, he shows her the pendant Effie gave him, opens it and show her the picture of her family.

It breaks me hearing Peeta saying that no one needs him, because it's so far from the truth and he doesn't realise it.

Thankfully, Katniss reassures him she needs him. As they kiss my heart warms, and also hurts as I think of Finnick... maybe when everything is over we could... have our chance.

No. I don't have to keep my hopes up, for no reason.

Plutarch comes out of his office, nods at my direction and then addresses the Gamemakers.

"We're almost at the grand finale." He declares. "How about you go get some rest, miss L/n? You worked a lot today."

"Are you sure, sir? If we're at the finale, you might need all hands on deck, right?" I ask, pretending to be sorry.

"Go have some rest and enjoy the show, you earned it." He nods.

"Thank you, sir." I force an enthusiastic smile and walk to the exit.

As I pass him he whispers to me, "pack what you need. You'll know when it's time to go, so keep an eye on the games."

"Yes, sir."

"When it's time, immediately go to the roof of the training centre." He instructs, I nod and just walk out, to my apartment.

--------------

I put the last item in my backpack, a picture of my brother when we were younger, before we got sent to Snow. I turn the TV on to keep and eye on the games, as Plutarch instructed. Thankfully, I got the program so I can see everything live and change angles.

Apparently the group has to split, Katniss and Johanna are sent to unspool the wire all the way to the beach. Peeta, obviously, tries to offer to go with them, but Beetee says he needs both Finnick and Peeta as protection.

Of course, it generated a little angst in the group, suspects raising, and it ends with them agreeing to part ways until midnight.

I look for any sort of signal within the games, but I can't see anything yet.

I bounce my leg anxiously, as I look at Johanna cutting Katniss' arm, I look closer and realise she's tacking off the tracking device, this let me let out a sigh of relief. I try to find Finnick with the other cameras, only to see him looking for Johanna. He probably heard the Careers and went searching.

But I need to force myself to look for Katniss instead, Finnick knows about the plan, he knows what to do, Katniss doesn't so if I have to look for a sign, she's the one I need to follow. She's going back at the tree, looking for Peeta, but once she gets there, she only finds Beetee. I gasp, looking at a shaking Beetee lying down. Then her eyes fall to a made-up spear, the wire wrapped around the tip.

The sound of the cannon distracts her, screaming for Peeta she stands up, but when Finnick shows up, my heart stops as I see her taking an arrow and pointing it at Finnick.

"Please..." I whisper.

The door opening only increases my anxiety, and I quickly grab the emergency gun I took from my small voult.

My eyes drift between the hallway and the TV.

"Hello, my sweetness." Cal appears in front of me, a creepy grin on his face.

"Cal? What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Missed you." He simply answers, stepping closer, but I take a step back. He gives me a surprised and irritated look.

I look at the TV, in time to hear Finnick saying something to Katniss.

"Remember who the real enemy is." He said.

Cal looks at the TV, then step closer again and I take another step back, the gun still behind my back.

"Turn it off, sweetheart." He orders.

My eyes are, instead, glued to the screen. Katniss takes the spear, unwraps the wire only to wrap ot again around her arrow.

"Sweetheart." He calls again.

Finnick tries to get Katniss to get away from the tree, but right before the lightning strikes, she fires the arrow towards the sky and the screen turns black.

"Shit." I mutter.

"What happened?" Cal asks, alarm clear in his tone.

"I have to go." I say, rushing past him, careful to keep the gun somwhow hidden.

"Y/n!" I hear him scream my name as I near the door.

I open the door, but I find Peacekeepers in front of me.

"Yes?" I ask, as flatly and emotionless as I can.

"You are to come with us." One of them informs me.

"Where?"

"You're under arrest." Another says.

"What?" I scoff.

"What's going on?" Cal appears beside me, I hold the gun under the backpack harder.

"She's under arrest, she's suspected to be part of a rebellious group, a group Plutarch Heavensbee is part of." They explain.

"That's ridiculous." Cal laughs.

"I'm afraid it's true, sir." The peacekeeper replies.

I need to get out, I need to get to that roof.

I push past them, taking a little advantage of their talking. I arrive at the elevator, as I wait the doors to open I hear quick footsteps nearing. I point my gun at the Peacekeepers, firing twice, I manage to slow them down just in time for the doors to open and let me in, and I fire three more before the doors close again. I only injure some of them.

I didn't see Cal, he probably froze because of the news.

I decide to exit at another floor, I'm sure there would be more peacekeepers down, so then I'll go for the backdoor.

I get to the 4th floor, and carefully step out, analysing my surroundings as I walk to the stairs. I'm not so sure it's the best choice, but it's the only one I got. I try to be fast, but careful at the same time, the last thing I want is for them to get me.

Steady steps, controlled breathing, gun at hand, I move down the stairs.

"In here!" I hear someone scream and I just have to rush down now.

I run downstairs, jumping a few step in the process until I'm in front of the door.

I don't think, I need to get away from the ones on the stairs...

So I open the door.

Finnick's POV

Finnick sits up straight, holding his aching head, breathing heavily from exhaustion.

"Good, we started to think you were dead." Haymitch's voice makes Finnick raise his head to look at him.

"I'm... okay... I think." He says, he looks at his body, noticing some bandages, especially on his arm. They thankfully took off the tracking device.

"Yeah, the device is off, no need to worry about... that." Haymitch says, there's tension in his voice, resignation too, anger.

"What exactly happened?" Finnick asks, confused still.

"Katniss fired that arrow to the force field... that obviously broke, the screens, the cameras were down, this gave us the time to come and get you." Haymitch explains.

"Okay..." Finnick nods, he senses something wrong though.

"Come, let's talk." Haymitch nudges him to get up and follow him.

They arrive to a room with a big table, and screens taking their position on the walls.

Plutarch's there to greet him, but he's not happy, he's not satisfied.

Finnick hopes to see Y/n soon, he needs a friendly face to calm down.

"Mr. Odair... glad to see you're okay." He then says.

"Well, I'm alive... that's something." Finnick replies, forcing a small laugh out, "what about the others?"

He sees Plutarch and Haymitch sharing a look, then they both sigh deeply.

"We manage to get the Mockingjay out of there, which was the main mission." Plutarch starts, but doesn't continue.

"The others?" Finnick pressures.

"We managed to also get Beetee out." He answers.

"Johanna and Peeta?" Finnick's now scared.

"The Capitol has them." Plutarch simply answers.

Finnick pales, they might as well be dead, who knows what the Capitol will do to them.

"And..." Haymitch walks a little closer to Finnick, eyes down, guilty and angry.

"What? What is it?" Finnick snaps, frustrated.

Haymitch looks him dead in the eyes, so he can perfectly see the fury in his stare.

"They got Y/n too."