[cirsiu-m]

//missing mr stinky man, anyone want a cigarette put out on them?

[cirsiu-m]

thought I was probably done with this place forever but then I see that @baiika has posted the horniest reply I’ve ever seen

[cirsiu-m]

memes sent to the 12th div at 2 AM

[cirsiu-m]

//against my better judgment I am finally getting caught up on the anime

[cirsiu-m]

//akon using the phone is so funny to me

[cirsiu-m]

//against my better judgment I am finally getting caught up on the anime

[cirsiu-m]

//i'm at the point in my unemployment era where i'm considering an Akonification of my life

[thinksuicidestudios]

thinksuicidestudios.com

[baiika]

@cirsiu-m from here

Their unattachment has worked for them. Whatever they happen to be. She's spent enough time in Akon's company to recognize his ennui. To know there's something wrong when his chaos turns orderly. There's no changing him, but she's fine with that. She can see into shadows when they're together.

But she knows this means he's grown bored of her cunt and feels bad about it. He's more sympathetic than he lets on. Apparently, it takes the idea of abandonment for her to fall in love. To realize she needs him the way she needs sleep or air. 

Then he tells her it's not her and part of her panics. She has to chase it off like chickens.

Momo passes his cigarettes and takes a seat on his desk. Her arms wrap around his head and she pets his hair.

"I'm sorry you're unhappy..." She kisses his greasy hair. "You're important to me. When you hurt, we hurt together."

She expected more fireworks with her epiphany. Momo always knew with Sousuke because she was warmed whenever they saw each other. Their first kiss tasted like wonder. Momo's first kiss with Akon was desperate. Hungry. Their relationship is defined by desperation. 

[cirsiu-m]

He takes a raspy breath in her arms. It soothes him, to be held. It used to not really matter who it was. Any touch filled the lusty void he uses as an excuse for his emptiness, as if it goes no deeper than sex. But Momo's affection is different because he knows how empty she is, too. They reach out for each other as if they are each about to fall into a bottomless pit. Her love--or whatever it is--means more because she's fucked up inside. She's been hurt, deep.

It gives him an out. If she's already beyond repair, nothing he can do could possibly make it worse. And she seems incapable of hurting him either. Maybe they're both numb enough to make it work.

"Guess I'm a bad influence," Akon says, muffled by her chest. He drapes his long arms around her waist. He tilts his head back, looking up at her, though she's not far. Her smallness usually makes him feel giant, monstrous. But right now, he just feels as though he is being embraced by something just as delicate as he is. Like two hollow-boned birds. "...it's the same with me." He aches when she aches, feels the long-gone, dulled sensation of a lump in his throat when she cries. "I don't usually..." He buries his face against her neck. "I don't usually feel that way. You've got me all...twisted up inside, you know?" In his throaty voice, it sounds like seduction, perhaps because he's so unfamiliar with the sincerity she eases out of him.

[annas-anya]

I'm done for today)

[cirsiu-m]

Nemu; ‘ it’s a pretty good story. ’ 

"Who's gonna tell it?" he asks her, his voice like spit. Their work won't make them legends, not in the shadow of her father. He's the one that will be remembered for every gruesome, brilliant thing they've accomplished. Nemu will be lucky to be a tragic footnote in Mayuri's history. And Akon, he...he's not even sure he wants to be remembered. "If they do tell it, they'll tell it wrong."

Just like everything else they teach the rank and file. That they were right to eradicate the Quincies, that their justice system is effective and infallible. They sweep all the awful little details under some shameful rug, and the two of them will end up right there along with all the dust.

"Do me a favor: when I die, go to my quarters and burn everything." Every note, every abandoned journal in which he tried to write anything down. "Almost everything. Go through it first, maybe there's something you want to keep." Maybe she'd find some inebriated confession from him, some lurid rambling about how much he loved her and all the nasty thoughts he had. If he's dead, it won't be so humiliating. And she'd know, as she continued to live her wretched life, that she was loved by someone.

[cirsiu-m]

Momo; ‘ but you’re not happy. ’

"What gave it away?" He's got six cigarettes lined up in a neat little formation on the table, an anxious compulsion to organize the one thing in his life he feels he can rely on. Everything else falls to ruin around him, and he lets it. Even this...thing they have going on. He doesn't maintain it, care for it, do anything to keep it alive. It just lives, every hurt he causes making it beg to be euthanized. But they don't let it go.

He rolls one of the cigarettes in her direction and nods his head to offer it to her.

"Don't go thinking it's on you," he says. She's not the reason he's unhappy. He assumes this is what she thinks; she's been taught to cater to the moods of someone else. "Honestly it's...I dunno. One of the good things, I guess." He can't fully commit to it: telling her that, despite everything that is so wrong with them, he looks forward to seeing her.

[cirsiu-m]

Karin; ‘ i’m not anything. ’ 

"You haven't been here long enough to join the official nihilist's club," he says. "There's a lot of hazing involved. Not everyone survives. Unless that's something that appeals to you."

[cirsiu-m]

(with the intention of harvesting your organs) hey

[annas-anya]

I had to do it🎉🎉🎉

[cirsiu-m]

what if she let me hit it because i offered to do a patricide

[baiika]

Nemu's face lifts to meet his lips. His eyes burn. Everyone's eyes burn, like she's being fried gazing upon them. But she can stare at his nose and mouth with ease. She can fall in love with them, maybe.

Akon is as much of a staple as she or Mayuri. Everyone else changes when she blinks, mutated, mutilated, or altogether new. But not him. He withstands it, smoothed like a river stone, and although Nemu knows he'll be eroded like the rest, she'll be gone before that happens, and can enjoy him as long as she pleases. Even if the world twists and scatters everything, Akon will still be a stone she can rest on.

She needs him.

Her fingers curl into his biceps. All sinew, and it scares her she'll break him, so she cups his face instead, thumbs on his cheekbones. "Promise to never do anything so rash." Nemu should tell him she needs him, but can't. Can't because they're all cowards when it comes to her father, and men run knowing the kind of horrors they can endure being hers when she is Mayuri's alone.

[cirsiu-m]

He gulps at the sensation of her delicate fingers clutching him, burns as they touch his gaunt face. He feels as though he is being held by a black hole, singing in its density, pulling towards it, into it, everything into its pit of sorrow.

"It wouldn't be rash," he says, no longer thinking as he speaks, instead letting his sick gut do the thinking for him. All the plans, all the ways. There are some things even Mayuri isn't immune to. No one can build up a tolerance to a cut throat.

But since he is at her whim, he concedes. She would probably miss her father, anyway. Not the hurt, and not what he does. The presence of him. Her creator. He's trapped her into some sort of love, Akon is certain.

She's still a mess. He wants to get her out of her bloodied clothes. In these raw moments he always wants her most, when she's vulnerable and hurt, because he wants to have something to fix. That's what he tells himself, that fucking her would be some sort of project. He surrounds her wrists with his wide, skinny hands.

"He'll kill you," he says. Maybe not soon, maybe not even for years. But she's on borrowed time. "And I just watch like an asshole." He can feel her pulse against his palm. He feels himself tightening his grip. "Sometimes I just wanna take you away from him."

[vhsmeme]

* the road starters

the road is a novel by cormac mccarthy. 

‘ i’m right here. ’

‘ you have my whole heart. you always did. ’

‘ we need to go. ’

‘ do you feel okay? ’

‘ i’m sorry i woke you. ’ 

‘ i don’t want you to get sick. ’ 

‘ you have to talk to me. ’ 

‘ my job is to take care of you. ’

‘ and you can’t give up. i won’t let you. ’

‘ it’s not safe. ’

‘ you’re going to be okay. ’

 ‘ shh. it’s all right. ’

‘ keep your head down. ’

‘ just sit here. you’ll be able to see me the whole time. i promise. ’ 

‘ you haven’t eaten in a long time. ’ 

‘ i’m sorry i yelled at you. ’

‘ i know you’re scared. that’s okay. ’

‘ stay close. ’ 

‘ you said you wouldn’t ever leave me. ’

‘ don’t let it get cold. ’

‘ and i won’t forget. no matter what. ’

‘ what’s the bravest thing you ever did? ’

‘ it doesn’t hurt. ’

‘ no, you’re starving. ’

‘ i’m trying. ’ 

‘ i don’t have good dreams anyway. ’

‘ i had a bad dream. ’

‘ are these all the blankets you have? ’ 

‘ it’s okay. it’s lightning. ’

‘ i should have been more careful. ’

‘ don’t lose heart. ’

‘ it’s a pretty good story. ’ 

‘ i’m just really thirsty. ’

‘ can i go with you? ’ 

‘ the one thing i can tell you is that you won’t survive for yourself. ’

‘ is it okay for us to take it? ’  

‘ i’m not anything. ’ 

‘ we got lots of stuff. ’

‘ i’m really tired. ’

‘ i feel kind of weird. ’

‘ but you’re not happy. ’

‘ i’m cold. ’

‘ do you remember anything? ’