tell me how cold it is..i mean how you like it

me personally in regards to the question of “how could SBURB be so cruel doesnt it want people to succeed” is that nowhere in canon has the alpha timeline nor sburb as a game ever stated to be sentient or indeed anything more than a humble programmed disc. noras it ever been stated that it wants players to suceed or fail

its cold and calculating because its just a machine, it doesnt think. the programming just. generates a game based on the players. why else all the stuff about death? why else would dave get a planet secifically created it would seem to traumatize him? because the function of the game is personal growth and it throws the solution to your life problems at you like straightforwardly dunking you right into a pool to teach you how to swim. i mean. sburb never tells u or promises u anything good or bad it just auto generates an environment and npcs to play a game based on your psyche. thats all its ever been called is a game. why else would it be clearly stated that most sesions straight up fail. heck even the canon sessions had unkillable glitches dooming then and they all techically failed in some way. why would it let LE exist at all in the first place? who does that benefit other than LE?

the only aswer to me is that it doesnt let anything happen or not happen. it just is

and when you look at what it actually is from a programming point of view, everything really does make sense and is easily explained by core programming and computer functions

i dont think its really a stretch to view sburb as just a mindless programing pumping out commands as the game is played. and eerything else in homestuck is played straight when it comes to parts of realities being mere game constructs

i think its a far greater stretch to assume that the sburb game has any kind of sentience, even moreso a benevolent one when not a single line in canon suggests this and far more comments by hussie suggest that it really is just a game

Why I Love Writers

How We Write: The world in the morning was a land frost kissed and chilled. The sun rising above the willows to burn away fog and drink it up again. We rise anew, our bones stretching, our skin shimmering, our blood beating a drummer boys concerto. The land is coffee beans and frying pans and sweetness on the tongue, and we follow its path to whatever life may bring. We are the people and we are alive and we are ready.

How We Talk: Um- I mean… sure… yeah… uh, I mean I guess I’m a morning person I mean oh shit I stuttered didn’t I I mean fu-frick, there’s a lot of stuff in the morning that I like and coffee is basically, you know, good or something or… um… the floor is cold? And sorry, I keep saying cruse words, oh shit I mean curse words I messed up my letters lol um… wow this is super awkward um… maybe we could start over and HOLY SHIT A PUPPY.

  • James: Sirius,we need to talk about your problem.
  • Sirius: What problem?
  • Peter: Your problem with Remus
  • Sirius: I don't have a problem with Remus...DOES HE THINK THAT?!
  • James: well keep doing what your doing and he will
  • Sirius: Tell me what I'm doing then!
  • James: You're overprotective!
  • Sirius: What?! Oh please
  • Peter: You kinda are...
  • Sirius: How?
  • James: Well just this week you've given him 5 chocolate boxes
  • Sirius: He likes chocolate! I give you lots of treacle tarts cause you like them!
  • James: and you fed half of them to him
  • Sirius: He burnt his hands again
  • James: and you covered him up in coats and sweaters and scarfs
  • Sirius: it was cold outside you know how easily he gets cold!
  • James: then he could barely walk so you carried him
  • Sirius: none of this means I'm overprotective,I just like making my moony happy!
  • James: Oh is that moony getting teased by someone?
  • Sirius: WHERE??!?!*storms off*

anonymous asked:

Can I get a ship w a guy? I'm a girl, I'm 5'3" with reddish hair and green eyes. I'm very smart, stubborn, and sarcastic. I have a bit of a temper and can be mean sometimes. My friends are very important to me. When people tell me I can't do something I try 10x harder to prove them wrong. My childhood wasn't super great. I don't make friends easily but am close to the few I do have. I love being physically close to people. I get cold easily. I can be hard to get along with. Thank you! :)

I ship you with…. Hanzo!

Much like you people describe Hanzo as mean and cold, but his friends know that he deeply cares about them. He admires your tenacity and how you always manage to prove people wrong. Hanzo feels grateful knowing how hard it is to become your friend. 

Thanks for requesting!

Originally posted by inccption

anonymous asked:

Hello! I am an INTJ, and I have an INFP friend that is very clingy and all touchy. Even though I express that I don't want those actions, she just keeps on insisting (in a teasing way). One time, I confronted her that I really don't want those but she just sat quiet and haven't talked with me for a day. We're okay right now, but she continues with her teasing actions. May I ask some advice on how to deal with friends like her?

I think that goes beyond personality types and she should really understand that you’re not comfortable with touching. You should tell her emphasizing the “it’s not about you specifically, I just don’t like it at all and I would really appreciate if you could respect that”. I think she’s not getting the message and thinks there’s an underlying issue going on or maybe that you’re just acting usual cold and she wants to show you how it’s being warm, but that doesn’t mean it’s ok.

- INFP

anonymous asked:

Can I please have some Ace romantic and general headcannos

Ace, everyone’s bae (including me tbh) ヽ(´ω`○)ノ.+゚*。:゚+

You can tell I ran out of idea for the general headcanon ahahahah hah a orz


Romantic

  • PDA is a must. Prepare to be smothered by love, hugs, and kisses. You know how dogs seek your attention by sniffing, licking, and just follow you everywhere? That’s Ace.
  • Secretly likes it if his s/o berates him for forgetting to put on his shirts when the day is cold.
  • This guy has got a huge appetite and he will inhale any food in sight anyway, but bonus points if his s/o was the one who made it. Will eat anything, and I mean anything that his s/o makes, no matter how bad it turned out.
  • If his s/o is the maternal type, Ace will enjoy watching his s/o and Luffy’s interaction, especially if his s/o’s motherly switch is on. He thinks it looks so precious, and his mind will picture what would happen if they managed to start a family in the future.
  • Loves it when they’re cuddling and his s/o traces the tattoo on his left arm. If he trusts them enough, he would tell them the story behind the tattoo, and he’ll end up spilling his dark past. If his s/o still accepts him regardless all that, he’ll be 110% set on never letting them go.
  • Can get insecure about his existence sometimes and needs his s/o tu support him. On such nights, he’s the little spoon.

General

  • Seeks his (future) s/o attention by pulling pranks on them. Changes his tactic to being a sweet attentive puppy if they get upset because of his stunts.
  • Has tried to cook but ended up burning the kitchen because he fell asleep in the middle of cooking. Is banned from Moby Dick’s kitchen.
  • Sometimes fakes falling asleep on his meal so his s/o can take care of him. He likes their gentle touch when they wipe the food off his face and tries really hard not to laugh when his s/o mumbles about how his narcolepsy will kill him in the future. Was caught faking it once because he couldn’t help blushing when his s/o blurted how he’s such an ‘adorable dork’.
  • Secretly carries his s/o’s Vivre Card everywhere he goes so that he can know where they’re at all times.
  • Actually never felt cold ever since he got his Devil Fruit power. It’s why he usually forget to put on his shirt.
BTS Reaction: You ask them for their sweater when you’re cold

-Admin N


Jungkook: “How about we just cuddle?”

Originally posted by bts-in-motion

V: “That sounds like a personal problem, jagi.”

Originally posted by twinklestars06

Jimin: *gif*

Originally posted by b4ngt4nboys

Rap Monster: “Goodluck trying to take it off me, because I’m cold too!”

Originally posted by btsleepy

J-Hope: “You mean you want to wear this sweater?”

Originally posted by forjimin

Suga: “I know how to warm you up, jagi.”

Originally posted by oh-suga-suga

Jin: *playfully scolding you* “Aish, jagiya! Didn’t I tell you it would be cold?”

Originally posted by bts-gfx

okay so just a heads up, because ive seen a ton of fics that mis-characterize tsukki to the point of rot, and im gonna try to not repeat things that other people have said but just bear with me:

  • tsukki is not cold, he is not unfriendly and he not not not bitchy
  • tsukki is jaded and distrustful and this is completely valid considering his backstory
  • tsukki wants to make friends, but he does not know how to make friends
  • everybody notices that tsukki was yamaguchi’s first friend, but nobody seems to realize that yamaguchi was tsukki’s first friend too
  • this basically tells us that up until yamaguchi, tsukki was alone (except for his brother, but we all know what happened with that), and when you’re alone, you don’t learn how to socialize. 
  • the fact that tsukki is willing to be 100% honest with yamaguchi about his opinions and feelings (even if they’re harsh) shows that he trusts yamaguchi. he allows yamaguchi to see him for who he really is, bitterness and all, because he knows yamaguchi (his only friend) won’t leave him for it. it doesn’t mean he’s mean, or abusive, or anything else. yamaguchi understands this. 
  • tsukki has also been shown complimenting and praising yamaguchi when he feels it’s deserved. This shows that he’s not just a grumpy berry and is perfectly capable of positive reinforcement, if he feels it’s been earned. And why does he need his praise to be earned? Because the last time he gave out his praise willy nilly (his brother), he discovered that everything he’d been told for years was a lie.  
  • tsukki will open up and will become friendly when he’s given enough reassurance that it’s okay. he does not come out of the box being all open and enthusiastic because he’s suffered extreme hurt in the past–hurt that only happened because he was open and enthusiastic. 
  • for proof see exhibit: Tanaka, Kageyama, Hinata and Kuroo
  • So please, fic writers, i beg of you, please stop writing this tiny, scared crow as a bitchy antisocial teenager. please realize that he’s a very multifaceted character that is very easy to misinterpret
  • thank you

denial: i didn’t shrink this jacket, did i? hey, mom, i didn’t shrink this, did i? hey stranger on the street, i didn’t shrink this jacket, did i? hey, model wearing jacket on website, our sleeves are doing the same thing here right? right? totally. hold on, raise your arms above your head. how tall are you? it’s cool, it’s fine.

anger: are you fucking kidding me with this? how are you supposed to- i mean how am i- how do you wash it then? or do you just never wash it? am i too much of a filthy commoner to wear this jacket? i don’t dry clean! i’m not a character from seinfeld! you got the symbols on the tag like i’m some archaeologist deciphering laundry hieroglyphics and yeah, i’ve seen that thing online explaining all of them, but i never thought it’d apply to me! you’re telling me cold water and air drying shrinks things? how was i supposed to know. oh it shrinks things 2-4%, internet? according to the internet it shrinks things 2-4%? so if i’m on a cruise and i fall into arctic waters and survive still fuck me because my clothes are going to shrink? i cheat death, but i’m still coming up short?

bargaining: maybe there’s like…a groupon or something i can use and just buy another one? oh who am i kidding? i missed the boat on groupon and i never fully understood it in the first place. i’m too cheap to buy it again.

depression: i was at an all time high for compliments with that jacket. never looked better in anything. never felt better in anything. it’s like it was wearing me! when i traveled in the summer i would take that jacket out of fear of someone breaking into my apartment and stealing it. i would just keep it with me. a suitcase full of tshirts and then my golden child. oh and i had so many plans, the weather was just getting perfect. going to the movies, wearing it on a first date, my wedding day, my wedding night, delivering my first born, being buried in it so my grandkids can’t have it and cash in on my cool. it’s all over. i look like a bale of hay crammed into a pillowcase.

acceptance: nope nope, never getting over it. never accepting it. never letting myself get attached again. i am moving on from this a damaged and broken person. a soul 2-4% weaker.

Okay but imagine getting up in the middle of the night because you have to use the bathroom and tiptoeing past Michael because you know how grumpy he is when he gets woken up so instead of turning on the light like a normal person you decided to relive your bladder in the dark but instead of coming in contact with the cold toilet seat you are literally sitting gin the toilet because your wonderful boyfriend forgot to put the toilet seat down, again. And you’re so irritated that you don’t even care about how grumpy he is so you start screaming his name until a sleepy Michael appears rubbing his eyes, before he spots you and starts laughing and you just glare at him before asking for his help before he responds “I have to get a picture of this first. I mean you literally fell into the toilet babe” 

your breath fogs up the glass
as you stare out the bus window,
and i,
i look at you, as you fumble around with your fingers,
sometimes brush back your hair
and at other times look back at me
and ask what i find so fascinating

i look at you because,
“because i am so happy right now,”
i tell you,
but what i don’t mention is that
i am cherishing the moment

so that times like these when
suddenly you’re no longer by my side,
when i have to spend my day without you,

i can remember exactly how many steps you take before you
sit down,
or the way you softly crinkle your nose as
cold air comes in,
so that i can remember
just how the etch of your jeans feel
when i place my hand on your knee softly
and tell you
just how much you mean to me

because now that you’re nowhere in sight,
i can mentally be back on that bus again and again
and imagine you next to me

—  bus rides, by emotionsarecrazy
I don’t like writing endings because
there is no right place to trail off
no conclusion is a good conclusion because
I can never sum up all the things I was trying to say
an end means stopping
means dropping off a cliff
means cutting parts of me out to bandage
the words I left limping.

Endings are so finite
so cold and absolute
marking them is like a point of no return,
each punctuation is a step closer to the Rubicon
each transition is a shutting door
each sentence that leads to the finish line
takes more out of my lungs
makes it harder to breathe because
there is no freedom in endings.

I have always been taught to wrap it all up
to leave the audience with something to ponder
but nothing I ever say feels sufficient,
how do you end a story that has more to tell
a narrative that is left wide open
a friendship with spilling memories
a relationship with all the loose ends
a childhood with dripping nostalgia
a war with massive casualties
a poem that has sprung in too many directions
how do you end something that has
abandoned you with all its fingerprints–
like evidence from a crime scene,
something will always be left behind.
—  I don’t like to be reminded of the blood in my poems 

i. 
everything love. i look at you, and the moon walks cold over my spine. i glow / calling waves home, like they never shift in between us. like we never move, and how i wish we did / how our chests are full, and for once the weight isn’t too much to carry / i tell you, sometimes i feel bearable, and you read nothing into it. i start to see our chests fall / my stomach hurts. i don’t know how to stop this / i only feel a push; the drowning has started. i am trying to find homes, please understand me. please / don’t you see, this breaking in me?

ii.
throwing myself into everything that keeps me away from myself, and everything that brings me back [and you] down to the last moment of exhaustion, which leaves no place for aching down the blades of my spine. i am free- momentarily of any kind of breaking that doesn’t turn beautiful as it hits the ground. the splatter of blood may or may not be art in your eyes, but who’s asking / i am a lake. a lake. a lake. your residual salt doesn’t sting or that’s what i tell myself at least. i breathe without hesitation / heart in hibernation.  

iii.
sorrow has a way of settling into your spine, and the thought of a trace stings at you [me] i lift myself up from dirty floors, and wipe the shame off / hiding from you, but you never saw anyway. i cling to the closest tree, as he traces my beauty in the wind. we all just want to be needed he says- he needs me, and i sigh in relief / i tell myself i am a terrible person, as he sees through me, and i let him. breaking is always temporary, and a drug always convenient / as we try to push each other away. a week later, i cry in his arms, and he tells me not to leave. i remember how i wanted that from you, and shrug it away. its okay.

iv. 
a few months in- unexpectedly happy / with safety trapped in his words, that lift my arms to rest. i need not write today, but i want to- to have him read to me every night. my words in his mouth, and how peaceful they sound. i say love, so cautiously but he hears it, and i breathe / still with damaged lungs. i make sheds out of dreams, because houses fall too, and we laugh at the idiocy of our fears; we aren’t away from them yet; far / i ache at the sound of his voice- 

v.
i tell myself this means something, and let myself live. he says its okay to be happy, and i believe him / all while sitting on my knees to pray- no god to believe in, but faith. please don’t take this away from me / as i put to rest, you in my grave, and welcome a whole other destruction- seemingly more deadly than the last / there’s something about loving yourself in this, but i cannot see it, and for that i am sorry- i never have. i let him do it for me, in mirrors at times / eyes.

vi.
trust me, i’m fully aware they shatter, but what choice do i have / when the sky has already fallen a thousand times / at least we’re not lonely; wars are harsh things, love- he tells me. i cannot say more than this. so i say thank you instead. i say, love me / and wait for another hurricane / and hope it never comes. i say, stay with me, and he laughs at how hard i make it [for myself]- there is no shame he says / and i let myself be measured by what he feels, again. i’m sorry.

stages // messes.

/ one

I know sometimes I’m a jerk- of how I treat people cold blood and pretend like there’s nothing happened. But to tell you, I really am not that kind. It’s just that I am half-complete. I tend to look my other parts at people who surrounds me with love or the sensation I have always wanted to feel. To others, it’s cynical- but to tell you, it’s not. It always felt like the walls in my spine doesn’t seem to substantiate themselves and refrain from falling apart.

/ two

I tend to find comfort from people who mean the most to me. Like that of a how constellations combine and practically swing amidst the corners of the world. Ignoring the void. Just pure happiness.

/ three

I saw you standing there- your gaze towards mine. Again I remembered my demented universe. How pain altered everything I took tight grasp on- how I tried to fix you when I myself, is broken.

/ four

I let go.