#positronmorbid

[velvet-apricots]

Sometimes I get so sad that most of my best friends live several hundred miles away from me. Even in another country.

[ophibell-old-blog-blog-blog]

positronmorbid replied to your post: I will never ask to take ...

That’s why I liked the food court area at youmacon, since everyone seemed to agree that photos were off limits there.

Yeah it was an unspoken thing, which honestly shouldn't be needed to be said at all anywaaay

[godwhyrp]

Tumblr get's so dumb about terminology. They put all this effort into it, when they could be putting it into something productive. Like actually helping real people.

Probably because it’s a completely different brand of effort that doesn’t satisfy their need to tell someone they’ve never met and therefore don’t know that they’re a disgusting human being for questioning the integrity of a word they’ve decided to take completely out of context for no other purpose than to have yet another new label to stick to themselves.

We’re calling their precious word into question, so now they have to defend its honor against us instead of think about it.

—Kai

Whoever can come up with the most special-sounding words to describe as many aspects of themself as possible can then use said words to try and win the shiniest medal in the Oppression Olympics, duh.

- Cos

[train-heartnet-xiii]

positronmorbid replied to your post: “so it turns out Crash got her copies of Pokemon X and Y from Meijer’s...”:

Aww, i'm so glad Crash picked up your game sooner than you though! I'm also really glad the game is good ;u;

I'm just amused that she said she had that dream of me bugging the crap out of her for it. but, yeah, it's fun as heck. and remember, let me know when you want that gift card so you can get one of the new Pokemon games too. that way we can trade Pokemon and stuff~ just leave me a message her on tumblr or call (calling may be better right now while I'm distracted by shiny new Pokemon game).

[train-heartnet-xiii]

positronmorbid replied to your post: “I keep periodically seeing people going “I’m 20-something and STILL...”:

Maybe they were like me and people picked on them for liking pokemon even though they were still 10-12? But really, pokemon is one of the best rpgs out there, and no gamer should feel shame for playing it.

I figured that was a possibility, and if that was the case a little assurance that it's nothing bad could be a good thing.

and really, I don't see why so many people think only certain age groups can enjoy certain things. maybe I was lucky that I was so good a reader as early as I was that I got to see that some of the books in the young adult section were just plain awesome while some of the ones in the adult section could be a load of crap and how that had me realize it's not the demographic something is aimed for that decides how good it is and its worth as early as I did. maybe because of that people trying to imply that I was too old for certain books (or in some cases too young for certain ones just because they considered them better suited to students a few grades above me) didn't take with me and it spilled over into my view for all media forms. maybe it was growing up a geek with a geek mom, but really... the whole concept that you can't enjoy something just because it's aimed at an older or younger demographic than the one you're in just kind of baffles me completely.

[twelveh]

Its called the most rediculous thing Peach fuzzy navel

[godwhyrp]

I actually got a lot of hate in this one rp community, because my spelling and grammar in the ooc chat wasn't the best. Mainly because it was a fast paced chat and you had to type quickly. Once I also kept adding compulsively an extra T to 'later' for about a day. The thing was it was a rp for a kids show on Deviantart. It wasn't even lit or anything, and people got so snobby that I once wrote 'Latter" instead of 'later'.

[nicholasmage]

Prompt DroogxHandmaid and them trying to have a relationship without their respective syndicates finding out.

((Awesome ship and prompt, thank you~)

It’s dangerous as hell, and that’s part of what makes it so thrilling. The constant threat of capture by their respective mobs finding out of their affair—though he’d call it a stronger word than that, by now—never fails to bring a devilish smile to her lips as he sneaks into her room in the middle of the night with a carton of expensive smokes that they share together and she awaiting with some strong drink from her native eastern country. Devilish, what a perfect word to describe everything about her, and yet not truly everything. There were many things he did not know about her, her future and past, but that was part of the allure, he supposed. All he knew is that he loved the way he felt when he was around her, how his senses were so alert to her very move, at the same time having to be tuned to their surroundings, wary of her nearing comrades. He would swing his long legs into her room through her widow, somehow managing to look elegant despite the awkward motion,and he’d see her and his heart would beat quicker and harder than it ever got in the heat of a gunfight (obviously this was an exaggeration, from a literal standpoint, but it sounded ever so lovely when whispered into her ear). 

He’d come to her and she’d be wearing something casual, or something sexy, something just for him—which was very often nothing at all—and he wouldn’t say much but for what was shown in the way he moved and touched her, his decorum which he always to keep in check around most people and gave decidedly more care when he was around her. He’d relax on the couch beside her as she rolled her smoke by hand, sealing the strange foreign leaves inside as he enjoyed his preferred inhalant. After that was done they’d eat whatever meal that was put together, and drink hot tea to finish it off. It would get late by then, and they’d make haste, but he always had a way of making it look like he went by his own time, all the time. 

They’d go to the bedroom and undress each other. She loved the way he took off his finely tailored suit one piece at a time and held her eyes on him as she removed her own clothes, different depending on her mood but usually fashionable and always green. Their clothes looked so lovely on the floor, tangled together as their bodies did the same. It was slow and sensual, he treating love-making as he treated every heist; with careful precision and deliberateness, only every so often losing his control of himself and putting more of himself into it or more force than he’d planned, the same way he became dangerous when his temper was lost, but she seemed to revel in it. 

Only ever just barely making it before sunrise, as planned, he’d wake and have to leave her before her comrades awoke , before her boss made his daily check-in on her, or before his boss needed him. They’d part ways and continue this routine, this careful and dangerous business that would turn deadly if their respective syndicates of crime found out. Though as he kissed her both goodmorning and goodbye before leaving just as the sun rose, leaving her in her servitude, with the company she was forced to keep, he would be hoping that the next night he came she would still be waiting for him and not taken by her own hand—as had been threatened many times—-he knew he would easily take a bullet for her.