#first ones writing

[scarlet-cloudfall]

Ok so I've been somewhat interested in the first ones' writing from spop recently, and there's a couple things I found recently that kinda bug me.

So, it's a phonetic language, which means that each sound has a symbol attached to it. There's a really cool way they worked with this, where similar sounds have similar shapes. F and V are both downwards triangles, but V has a dot in the middle, indicating that it is a sounded consonant. We see the same with B and P, K and G, T and D, S and Z, SH and ZH, and CH and J.

One weird thing is that L and R have the same visual connection as all the above pairs, where they are both parallelograms, and R has a dot in the middle to differentiate it from L. But both consonants are sounded? There's not that same pairing of sounded and unsounded that the symbols imply. Due to their similarity, I like that they are both thr same shape, but I think there should have been a different distinction, like a line instead of a dot or something.

But there's another issue with these pairings, and that is how two sounds which should be paired aren't. If I understand correctly, DH is supposed to be the sound in the word "the" and TH is the sound in the word "path." If that's the case, we should see the same pairing principle, where they are the same shape, and DH has a dot in the middle while TH doesn't. But we don't. DH and TH are rotated 180 degrees from each other.

But back to the idea of similar consonants having the same shape, why does W have the same shape as S and Z instead of L and R? That just doesn't make any sense to me.

Another thing is the inclusion of CH and J as consonants that have their own unique symbols. CH is just the same as T+SH, and J is the same as D+ZH. Why would you add an extra pair of symbols for a small grouping of consonants? I'm not that familiar with phonetic alphabets, but isn't this something that you just wouldn't do?

One of the vowels they have a symbol for shown as being the OU in "house," but that doesn't make sense to me. Wouldn't it be better represented as the O in "rob"? "House would then be phonetically written like "hows."

I have a small handful of other minor issues, but I think they can be perfectly explained as having a lot of sounds and not many simple, easily-distinguishable symbols, like how H is the same shape as T and D (random thought, wouldn't the sounded version of H be a vowel?)

[ailurusleviathan]

[sanct1f1ed]

favorite stan twins characterization is that they're both equally insane. stanley just gets more air time to show it off. loosely inspired by a post i read earlier but here's some absolutely insane things both of them have done

stanley:

drugged a person and turned them into an exhibit in the mystery shack

had a vegas wedding to a prospector-themed novelty dispenser

gave mabel a grappling hook

failed to steal an animatronic badger

chewed his way out of the trunk of a car

punched at least three bald eagles

is multiply divorced, possibly even with the novelty dispenser

committed premeditated murder on a llama

faked a heart attack to get on Wheel of Fortune

took his clothes off in front of a live studio audience on Wheel of Fortune

has a rivalry with a fifth grader, a grandmother, and a man who exclusively dresses like a corn cob

stanford:

pulled a gun on a bus driver when he wouldn't let a pig on board

directly assisted in mind-controlling ronald reagan during his election in 1980

gave mabel a crossbow

got bitten by a vampire bat and subsequently began sampling human blood

owns contraband outlawed in 9000 dimensions; keeps it in an extremely flimsy plastic case

"accidentally" set a hawk on fire

has exes ranging from as normal as his old college buddy to as weird as a triangle and an alien with 7 eyes who put a metal plate in his head

wears turtlenecks because he's hiding multiple tattoos he regrets, including one themed around "all star" by smash mouth

is an Extremely wanted criminal across hundreds of dimensions; was completely kicked out of one for card counting

is, bizarrely, super into the band Eurythmics

can see shrimp colors

[vaguely-human-man]

Idk who needs to hear this but take that early transition girl out. Dress her up all pretty and assure her that anyone who dares to say a negative word will have to contend with you. Do her makeup and gently talk her through the steps, do one eye for her and let her try the other one on her own. Kiss her lips and watch the way she grins like a maniac at the imprint that her black lipstick leaves behind. Take her out to the movies or to the mall, walk around and buy her a pair of good boots without letting her look at the price tag, watch the way she smiles shyly and swoons even while insisting she doesn't need them. Tell her 'My love. You loved them instantly and they had your size- it's fate, they're meant to be yours,' and then help her sit down in one of the mall chairs to put them on, watch the way she prances around in them like an excited little girl.

Hold her hand and talk to the lady at Rue 21 for her because you know she's insecure about her voice. Go in the dressing room with her and gently help her into the skirt she was eyeing- one foot, a second, shimmy, shimmy, up- followed by a wonderfully soft sweater that falls just right over her frame. Hug her from behind while she looks in the mirror and feels beautiful, basking in her euphoria. Whisper into her ear how proud you are of her- how brave she is, how beautiful, how honored you are to be able to share this journey with her.

Take her to dinner and kiss her while you wait for your food, run your hands down her freshly shaven arms and gently caress over the back of her neck. Offer her some of your ramen while you take a bite of her fried rice, and clumsily attempt to feed her a bite of sushi with some chopsticks.

And then. Take her home, with all the bags that now hold the beginnings of her new wardrobe, and help her hang them up, try them on. Let her have a fashion show and gently wipe her makeup off before sleep. Kiss her and caress her and shower her with affection, with praise and love and adoration. Let her melt into your arms and if she cries let the tears soak into your shirt. Gently caress her hair and say 'its okay, baby girl. I love making you feel beautiful,'

Or something, idk.

[hinamie]

unconditionally

[thursdaylast]

happy ptide

[hhhhunty]

How funny that she never considered that.

[pixlatedvampire]

It’s best to introduce your Hag slowly through the door first to not scare the others

[yeoldenews]

A selection of strange and cryptic personal ads from The New York Herald, 1860s to 1890s. 14/?

[misteria247]

I'm realizing that Stan is actually incredibly smart. Like in a Ford kind of way to some extent.

Like yes Stan's street smart and life smart but he's also got the smarts that Ford's praised for. Because he had rebuilt the portal and figured out his brother's notes and equations.

Like do you know how hard math is on Ford and Fiddleford's level of expertise??? How complicated and delicate it is????? Especially the kind that brings portals to life???? And Stan figured it out. Had taught himself to read and comprehend these difficult things. Difficult things that requires college degrees in science and mathematics.

And Stan did this on an incomplete high school grade level of academics.

That's fucking nuts. Sure it took 30 years but he learned it. By himself, can you imagine how frustrated he got, teaching himself Ford's educational level??? Using his mechanical skills of fixing his car to be up to par to Fiddleford's impressive craftsmanship????

And I can just see how Ford and Fiddleford react post apocalypse. Ford doing equations and science stuff and talking while Fiddleford listens and gives his input when Stan pipes up unintentionally and puts his hat into the ring. And it's mathematically sound?? And these two men are just blown away cuz what the actual hell?? Ford's immediately questioning Stan, wanting to hear his thoughts while Fiddleford watches impressed and Stan's mortified and a bit overwhelmed. Or Fiddleford working on something and Ford's watching him when Stan points out a better way to make a part work and Fidds is like omg thank you Stanley??? And Ford's looking at his little brother dumbfounded and itching to bomb him with questions and whatnot.

Stan never knows peace afterwards.

[abstractfrog]

Happy 1 year anniversary to Mr Sherlock Holmes! Here's a litttleee celebratory comic from me

[sp0o0kylights]

“Dustin isn’t coming.”

“What?” Eddie says, all frantic and jovial movements freezing instantly.

His eyes narrow on Lucas--the bearer of bad news. “Why?” 

“Family emergency.” 

Mike makes a face. “I saw his mom yesterday and she was fine, so is this a…?” 

He makes a gesture that is entirely incomprehensible to anyone who isn’t Sinclair and his terrifying girlfriend.

(At least, Eddie thinks Max is Lucas’s girlfriend this week. It got a little hard to keep up after the third break-up-make-up marathon, and he frankly, stopped bothering to try.

It helped that she barely spoke--The only time notable being when Eddie had mockingly asked Sinclair if he needed a cheerleader when she’d first sat in, upon which she’d asked Eddie if he needed new kneecaps with a look in her eye that said she was serious.)

Wheeler Jr.’s gesture however, made her put her book down.

“You think he’s having migraines again?” She not so much asked as demanded, which had Mike shrugging. 

“Dunno." Lucas says. "Dustin didn’t say.” 

“Gotta be, if he called Dustin.” Mike mutters, Lucas shuffling his papers about as he begins to set up for Hellfire. He was the last in the room, practically late, which Eddie had planned on harassing him for had he not announced Henderson’s absence. 

(Fucking freshmen. They just weren’t terrified of Eddie like they used to be.) 

 “Robin must be sick or something, otherwise he’d call her.”  Lucas finishes as he finally sits down. 

“Didn’t the Marching Band go on some trip?” Mike turns to address the rest of the table, and gets nods from Jeff and Gareth both. 

“Yeah they’re marching in some parade in Indianapolis.” Jeff confirms. 

“So his last resort was Dustin?” Max is getting that tone in her voice, the one that makes everyone at Hellfire very uncomfortable. “Typical.” 

She pushes away from the table, making a show of gathering up her things before rising easily to her feet.

Eddie trades looks with the elder Hellfire members as she makes her exit--the kind that says they’re all going to be talking about this later. 

They knew their freshmen had some weird obsession with the former King, of course, but Mayfield too?

What the hell was up with that guy?

At least Eddie thinks, right before things are once again shot to shit, they can go back to playing the game.

He can make it work this early into things, and if Henderson isn't’ a fan of what he’s about to do to the kid’s character in his absence, well. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be fucking absent then. 

“So what, Max, you're gonna go over there and make it worse?” Mike snorts. 

Fatal mistake.

Eddie almost strangles him for it, if only because it prolongs this entire unnecessary conversation. 

Max performs a military perfect heel turn, coming straight back for Wheeler Jr., which makes him right about fall out of his seat in panic. 

“What was that, Wheeler?” 

“I’m just saying--!” 

“We don’t know Steve’s having migraines.” Lucas reiterates, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s something else.” 

“Does Steve get migraines a lot?” Grant asks, because despite all appearances he’s a terrible gossip and gets sucked in far too easily.

Eddie throws a pencil at him for it. 

“Hel-looo, we have a game!?” He thunders, but unfortunately for him, precious Stevie-Weavies headache now has everyone’s attention. 

“Yeah, though he’s really good at pretending he doesn’t.” Lucas answers with a put upon sigh. 

“There’s a whole pattern--he ignores it until it gets super bad, then he has to call Robin or Dustin to come get him when he inevitably gets stranded at work or the like, grocery store.” 

“Well who else do you think he’d call?” Mike scoffs again. He does a lot of that, when discussing Harrington. “It’s not like his parents are--Ow, Max!” 

“Close your mouth before I close it for you.” She hisses and Mike, shockingly, does just that. 

To Eddie, she says; 

“Your ass isn’t any better, or did you forget I live across from you?” 

Eddie--who had an insult primed and ready--promptly shuts his mouth.

(Fucking! Asshole! Freshmen!) 

“Maybe I should go too.” Lucas says, hedging a look between his girlfriend and his DM. 

“No.” She snaps, pointing a finger at him.

 “If you go, then this idiot,” she flicks her finger to  Mike, “will go and then we really will make it worse. Stay here before your bichon frise has a fit about all his sheep abandoning him.”

Then she’s turning on her heel again, storming out. 

“What the hell’s a bichon frisé?” Gareth asks in the aftermath, frowning. 

“It’s a type of ahhhh--” Jeff clearly thinks better of the explanation, eyes sliding to Eddie.

Who’s scowling.

“I know what a bichon frisé is, Jeff.” He snaps. 

“I don’t.” Grant loudly complains. 

Jeff attempts to both calm Eddie and explain while Mike and Lucas spend far too many minutes looking after Max. 

“Enough!” Eddie howls, temper finally getting the best of him. “Are we playing or do you also need to go sit by the King’s bedside?”  

“Thank you,” Mike says, like he wasn’t a third of the entire problem. “Let’s play!”

They make it about ten entire minutes before getting knocked off track again. 

In fairness, not that Eddie would ever admit it--the second meltdown is his own fault.

xXx

Hellfire is Eddie’s domain. 

It’s one of the few places where he could relax without getting harassed or hounded, and having his freshmen--his!--abandon him for King Fucking Steve had set him off. 

So he’d made a few comments about it.

Maybe introduced an NPC who sounded suspiciously similar to Harrington, only to instantly kill him off. 

Made another couple of nasty comments. 

Who cares? It worked him through his snit rather nicely, and his boys all knew to leave him be.

Except, apparently, for Lucas. 

“Dude, would you lay off?”  The kid finally snaps, pencil slamming down on the table. 

Which is the most backbone-like thing anyone has ever heard Sinclair say, and he gets far more whistles for it than he should.

Eddie pins him in place with a glare. 

“What was that Sinclair?” He snarls, voice as menacing as he can make it.

(It’s pretty terrifying, he’s practiced quite a bit with it.) 

Sinclair flinches, but doesn’t back down. 

“I said lay off. Steve has migraines because of--” He stops, before seeming to come to a decision. “Because of me. He took a hit for me, and I owe him a life debt for it.” 

To Eddie, he says; “You get what those are, right?” 

Mike rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t just for you--”

“That time with Billy was!” Lucas is quick to snarl. “But you know what Mike, you’re right. It wasn’t just for me. He T-boned a car for all of us!” 

Sinclaire is on his feet now, which is the unfortunate moment that Eddie realizes he has once again lost control of the room. 

A situation he firmly blames on Steve Harrington, because he’s petty. 

“Or did you forget that part? That’s you, me, Will, Nancy and Jonathan right there! Nevermind the tunnel. Or the junkyard! 

“We had the junkyard handled--”

Lucas scoffs. 

“We absolutely did not.” 

“I don’t get why you’re all making such a big deal out of this. He’s the fighter. That’s what he does. That’s why we brought him to the tunnel.”

“You recall what happened at Starcourt, right?” Lucas challenges, furious. “You did see him after, right?” 

This, finally, seems to shut Mike up. 

“Shouldn’t you be mad at him for that?” He says after a moment, and the rest of Hellfire has completely put aside all actual gaming to watch this play out with a morbid sort of fascination. 

Eddie allows it, only because he’s trying to breathe the way Wayne taught him to before he loses it entirely and throws both of the idiot kids out of the drama room. 

“He pulled your sister into it.”

“Have you met Erica!? You can’t pull her into shit!” Lucas spits furiously. “That wasn’t D&D, Mike. It was the Upsi--real life.” 

Lucas is quick to correct himself, even in the heat of the moment--as all the kids are, like the entire school hasn’t clocked that they have some weird ass secret they’re terrible at hiding.

“And if we’re playing those games, then who pulled him into the tunnels? Who made him come to the junkyard?”

“Dustin.” Mike says snidely. 

“You don’t get to blame Dustin when Steve was the only person around.” 

“There were people around! They just weren’t people who--weren’t--who couldn’t--”

“Finish that sentence.” Lucas demands 

“Be trusted.” Mike spits out, like it hurts him. 

“Exactly.” 

“El went through way more than Steve ever has! El--”

“El was using her po--doing mage things! And also, she shouldn’t have had to go through all this shit either! We can’t rely on her to save the day every single time, Mike--and look at how hurt she gets!”

“She--”

“She hides it from you, you know. How bad she hurts. Cause she wants to put your feelings first.” 

“I--”

“Will does too.”  Is Lucas’s parting shot. His backpack is in his hands in a blink, papers and character figure shoved wildly into it, before he’s storming out the door in a poor mimicry of Mayfield.

“Harrington T-Boned a car?” Grant says, in the resounding silence. 

“That BMW of his hasn’t had a scratch on it--” Jeff says, with an inquisitive tilt to his head. 

“He didn’t use the Beamer.” Mike interrupts, angry and sulking. “Are we playing or not?”

“I’m gonna say not, given we are down two players.’ Eddie tells him through clenched teeth. 

“I’m going to be so mad if Steve doesn’t have a migraine.” Mike grumbles, as he begins packing up his stuff. 

The rest of Hellfire follow his lead, after one look at Eddie’s face convince the lot of them that it’s best to flee now, before Eddie unleashes all his pent up rage. 

“Not as mad as I’ll be, Wheeler.” Eddie promises darkly.

And it is a promise--because now, he’s going to follow all his stupid (sans Mike, who isn’t in his good graces either but at least stayed) freshmen--and go visit one fallen King.

If Harrington doesn’t have a headache now, he will when Eddie’s done with him.

[smokin-salmon]

HAPPY (very, very late) BIRTHDAY MIRABELLE!!

[tojisloft]

thinking about cuddle fucking with simon on the couch.

the two of you had decided to watch a movie, spend a quite weekend in, just cherishing each other's company. you didn't even realise when his hand had reached under your shorts, and yours under his shirt, tracing patterns on his torso. his hand toyed with the soft skin of your thigh.

and before you knew it you were lying on top of him, shorts pulled down to your ankle, lying on his broad chest with is erratic heartbeat thumping in your ear, it drowns out the slick sound of him fucking your dripping pussy.

his hands on your body are all you can feel, are all you want to feel. one toying with your clit and the other caressing your hip with soft circular movements as his lips pepper kisses your cheek and jaw and your neck.

you think you're going to die because the sheer tenderness of it all. simon is far from soft, but with you he turns to mush. his brain melts.

his touch on your skin is so kind, you don't think you could put it any other way. always so gentle and soothing, it made you feel so warm.

he whispers something into your hear and you whimper, feeling closer than ever, your hands reach for his hips to tug him closer to you, feeling him deeper in your core, his hips jerk into your pussy with short, languid strokes and you whine.

his lips latch onto your neck as you reach your climax and you feel it washing over like a wave drowning you underwater, a loud moan escaping your lips and your nails digging into his scarred skin.

you feel simon follow suit soon, soft groans fall from his lip with his head buried into your neck. you're in a daze as he presses chaste kisses against your temple, whispering 'i love you's, you snuggle into him, burying your head into his chest as you feel him snugly snake his arms around your waist.

© tojisloft 2024

[nevvn]

pov: when mc 😳

[remxedmoon]

practicing self care (projecting my stims on my blorbos)

greyscale vers below the cut!