#we now return to our regularly scheduled program

[mafaldaknows]

You are a psycho with that JPS shit.

Hello Anon:

Instagram: johnp.shanley

Thanks for your comment.

[bittersweetblasphemy]

sorry I sent you an emotionally vulnerable and pathetic message before I could up my usual walls haha I promise I'm really just your favorite grumpy horny internet clown haha

[shatteredharddrive]

[robotomia]

world's oiliest guy

[lvebug]

idk guys i think we should all let people have fun and not bully them for having hobbies on the website where we all talk about our weird hobbies. if something isn't your cup of tea just don't interact with it but why are we all up in arms? i've seen so many unique and unusual rp blogs that i dont see how a jesus blog is any different.

[chamerionwrites]

Forgive me for being dramatic but sometimes living in the USA is like living in the setting of a horror movie

[parameddic]

@hvndredstories

It - he - hadn't been right since he fell through the ice.

Maybe it was meant to be nice, or relaxing. Have a break, let his body recover from literally dying, give his ribs a chance to heal over the cracks and the bruises and regain some of the weight he'd lost in the freezing. The coma had been, well, close, and maybe not any closer than he'd ever really been before but it was the closest he'd ever felt to it. You know? This was supposed to be time to catch his breath, everyone else was catching their breath about what had happened, and he sort of... it was all ...

grey.

He wanted to be alive, he was grateful to be alive, but he felt a bit like a zombie walking. Fragile. The physical therapy was taking it out of him, and he was still weeks of work away from being cleared again for duty. He -

[Text] Nikolai -> TK: I thought you wanted to talk.

Would it be really, really shitty of him to ask Nikolai to hook up, when that was the last text he'd received, more than two weeks ago? That was over a month of waiting on TK to get back to him. To be fair, a lot of that time had been spent in a coma, intubated, torn between staying alive and freezing to death, but he still... he still had said he'd wanted to talk. And then effectively ghosted the guy.

He hadn't asked Nancy her opinion. It would have been tough to ask her about this guy without it throwing up red flags and that was its own thing and yes he did want to talk and he desperately, really, wanted to feel something.

[Text] TK -> Nikolai: I really do, but tonight I want to f--

no.

[Text] TK -> Nikolai: I do. [Text] TK -> Nikolai: Can tonight just be a booty call?

It was exactly as promised. All else aside there was a certain predictability to their interactions, save for the advent of flooding emergencies or shelter-in-place orders or bleeding to death in dumpsters: they said what they wanted and then they took it, and gave it, and it was good and fair and the longer TK had spent with Nikolai the more he'd gotten to know about how this man's body worked, how to make him hum that low tone that tugged at something physical, low in TK's chest. It was good.

Nikolai saw TK, saw the lost weight, the paler-than-normal (and that was saying something) skin, the bruises still not fully healed on his chest, and he said nothing. One of the rules, no words, and even more so tonight because TK had in fact pressed him into the arch of the doorway before they were fully inside and kissed him and kissed him and kissed him and TK was not fragile or going to break or "you must be exhausted" by any of it, and -

he pulled away with a ragged breath inward, shaky and lost for a second because he did not know how he had lost his breath, and this was when he realised that if he did not stop now he was going to be crying, and that would be ridiculous.

"Sorry." He forced laughter, over the top of it. This was messy, and stupid, and not at all what either of them had signed up for. He pulled back and away and turned to conceal it, startled by the intensity of the emotion because he had not actually known he was holding onto it at all. He swallowed. Sniffed. When he swiped at his eyes they were dry, which he guessed was less pathetic than it could have been.

Their pants weren't even off yet.

He had asked him here. What TK had wanted out of that, what he'd... he shook his head, controlled his exhale. This suddenly felt very unhot. "I'm a mess."

[jayflrt]

hihi loves ! 💘 sorry for being sorta dead this week — i was stressing ab my interview this wholeeee time but i finally got thru it !! 🥰🥰 it took me so long so this was a huuuge weight off my shoulders

click the read more to see who got me thru these troubling times

[mauvecardigans]

.

[wozw4ld]

He is so unfuckable

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

you know, we're taught about the horrors of war in school, but sometimes those lessons aren't when it sinks in. sometimes it's watching your friend sitting on the floor of your dorm remember he legally has to sign up for the draft. and he gives up and calls his mom instead, but then it hits you that if the government snaps and pushes the metaphorical big red button, it's your friend that's getting sent out there. your friend that doesn't like to be alone in social situations. your friend with the space themed bedspread and mickey mouse jacket and stuffed tiger and fluffy fold-up chair. and it hits you that these people that get sent out there if the government changes their mind one day aren't names without faces or vice versa. they're the kids you went to elementary school with. they're not just the boys that made fun of you; they're the kids that sat with you when no one else would; the kid that made you laugh because he wanted to. my english teacher senior year told us about this, when the military branches set up tables in the cafeteria the same month we read The Things They Carried. but in high school we were only focused on what came next. the military was just one of those options, and we were barely eighteen, and no one really talked about the draft. but now that we're adults, I'm sticking a poster to my dorm wall while my best friend drops his name into the world's deadliest raffle.

[loverboybrightsideghost]

guey wuxian

[allticklingallthetime]

LMFAO

accidental spoonerisms

hymen and seckubus

💀

[nemxricultrix]

(AMYWAY-)

[undertheorangetree]

In The Woods Somewhere

Summary- Coriolanus does not intend on returning to the Capitol alone.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ DUBCON Female reader. TBOSAS spoilers technically. Reader is essentially Lucy Gray. Porn with plot. Toxic relationship. Possessive Coriolanus. Chasing. Biting. Restraint. Choking. Edging. Overstimulation. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V sex.

Author’s Note- Happy holidays! This is not our regularly scheduled programming but I have Hunger Games/Tom Blyth brain rot so here’s this monster. Please heed the warnings and link to the full fic on AO3 below

She knows the moment he looks up at her, rifle clutched in his hands, that he will not be coming north with her. Not anymore, not now that he has the one thing tying him to this place well in hand.

She isn't a fool. She knows that his feelings for her played only a small role in his agreeing to come with her but she had been willing to overlook that. When he had cupped her face in his hand and swore that he would join her, that they would escape Panem- and their collective noose- together, she had seen the hesitation there. Coryo was not a man built for nature, no more than he was built for the districts, but she loves him and so she had ignored it. Twisted it into something romantic and noble in her head, that he would give up all this, that he would leave behind everything for her. He had promised her earnestly and she had taken him at his word.

But with the look on his face now, some potent mix of elation and relief washing over him like a wave, she knows she never stood a chance.

"It's the gun," he says, and she hates the tone he uses. The way he almost breathes the words, the way he looks up at her with the ghost of a smile on his face. Had she had doubts about what the guns would inspire in him, the look on his face is enough to prove her right.

"The one you fired at Mayfair," she says with a nod, crossing her arms over her chest. It feels almost protective now, as if she can safeguard her breaking heart. "Spruce must have known about this place too. I guess it's not as secret as I thought. We hide that and you're free."

"No more loose ends."

The way he says it, his hands tightening on the barrel as he looks down at the rifle, makes her blood run cold. This is all he wanted, nothing short of a dream come true. She doesn't like it, her reaction just as much as his own, and she fights to push passed it. Tells herself that there is nothing wrong here, not really, that he is entitled to some semblance of excitement, but she can feel that unease gnawing at her gut. It feels like an omen. A warning.

She grins, hoping to seem more at ease than she truly is, and feels her nose scrunch up teasingly as she says, "Besides me."

It's the wrong thing to do. Immediately, he goes rigid, eyes darting up to look at her and she sees the distrust there, akin to a beaten dog. It wouldn't be as startling as it is if not for their conversation in the woods not even an hour before. He is willing to kill if backed far enough into a corner and is that not what she has just done? Reminded him of the power she held over him with this knowledge? Backed him into a corner? And just like that beaten dog, she can see that he is only a moment away from snapping at her with pearly white teeth.

"You wouldn't... tell anyone?"

She feels her eyebrows draw together, all attempt at joking gone. It hurts a little, what seems to be a complete lack of faith in her, and it's almost surprising. Almost. "Course not."

But would she? She doesn’t really know now. The fact that he believes she could, as if she could exchange his freedom for her own, feels like the final nail in the coffin. She could forgive his dislike of the idea of heading north, the relief on his face when he saw the guns. But what he said in the woods- three’s enough for me- and his distrust of her now… she doesn’t think she’s safe with him. All their talk of trust, of how he agreed it was worth more than love, thrown to the wind all for the sake of a duffle bag full of rifles. Because just as easily as those gun could buy her freedom, they could secure his own too. One small step toward returning to his life back in the Capitol. He was going to leave before killing Mayfair, she knew that. And if there’s no weapon linking him to the crime, he could. Because no matter how badly she wants to believe he wants a life with her, she thinks he wants his old one back that much more.

And she isn’t sure just what he is willing to sacrifice to get rid of all those loose ends.

She feels herself smile again, moving on autopilot to fetch the knife she knows is on the shelf near the door. It doesn’t reach her eyes but she isn’t looking at him, gripping the handle of the knife a little too tightly. “I think I’m gonna go dig up some katniss. There’s a good patch down by the lake, don’t know when we’ll come across it again.”

His suspicion only grows at that, lips parted and head tilted in question, and she knows she needs to go. Though his finger has not yet shifted toward the trigger, it hasn’t moved away from it either. He has been a Peacekeeper for no more than two months, but that was more than enough time to pick up all he needed to know about firing a gun. Even if his aim is shoddy, it wouldn’t take much effort to aim in her general direction and hold down on a trigger. She had said it herself, she is the only one left who knew the truth about Mayfair’s death- her murder. If he wanted to go back to the Capitol, he needed to be damn sure there wasn’t a chance of his time here coming back to haunt him. As it is now, she is the only thing standing between him and the Snow penthouse.

“Thought you said they weren’t ready yet,” he protests, that uncertainty still more than apparent.

She prays her smile doesn’t look as forced as it feels when her eyes flick up to look at his handsome face, doing what she can to seem nonchalant. “The world changes awful fast.”

She pulls the door open, the rain pounding against the porch outside, when he calls her name. Her grip on the knife tightens a hair more before she’s turning back to look at him, keeping her eyes wide and innocent as she tilts her head in question. She knows she hesitated, knows he caught her if the look on his face is anything to go by, but rather than let her panic consume her, she focuses on his eyes. The beautiful, brilliant blue of his eyes. That may be the thing she misses most about him, after all this.

“It’s still raining.”

As if a little rain is enough to stop her from saving her own life.

“Well, I’m not made out of sugar,” she grins, taking one last look at him before shutting the door, placing some kind of barrier between them.

Read the rest here :)

[haniwahead]

Alright there's the proper 5th anniversary pic, seeya next year lol [We now return to our regularly scheduled programming]