hella1975 · 2 years ago
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i love when you make your environment absolutely perfect to Get Shit Done like i had a nap i ate food and made coffee i put the big light on i got in comfy clothes i made sure i was warm enough i got all my stuff out. and then executive dysfunction goes 'watch this!' and you get nothing done forever and ever
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irradiate-space · 11 months ago
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Shower thoughts on power generation
Starting assumptions:
The current generation of Small Modular Reactors has never been small enough to containerize, but there are small thermoelectric containerizable power plants without proliferation concerns: see the Mars rovers
Gigascale nuclear is still cheaper per MWh than SMR
But solar and wind are cheaper than gigascale nuclear
But solar and wind aren't 100% availability
Batteries are somewhat expensive
Flywheels are already containerized (see Kodiak, Alaska)
Terraform Industries would be stupid if their plants weren't containerized, and they don't seem stupid. Their rollout starts in 2024.
Carbon-neutral and carbon-negative don't mean "no carbon-based fuels"; just "no fossil fuels".
How do I see the near future playing out, say by 2050?
Containerized nuclear thermoelectric batteries are used for low-load low-sunlight high-impact postings, as a form of set-and-forget critical infrastructure. This is the most-wishful item on my list.
Maybe there's some geothermal in the mix, but it remains high cost to site and construct relative to other forms of power, and has limited geographic availability.
Gigascale nuclear gets built when your consumption density is higher than available solar/wind generation density, so long as it remains infeasible to build new long-distance power transmission lines.
Solar/wind fields power containerized electricity-to-CH4 plants as a source of carbon for carboniferous fuels. This fuels non-electrified mobile sources and, directly fuels demand-responsive gas turbines for The Grid when the sun don't shine/the wind don't blow. Your renewables overproduce electricity, beyond what The Grid needs? Make CH4. Don't want to deal with permitting for a thousand-mile-long transmission pipeline? Don't. Colocate CH4 generation with CH4 use.
Need a microgrid for a Burning Man, a FEMA camp, or Palestine? Unload a containerized 1MWh solar/flywheel/battery/CH4 setup, with 5 acres' worth of containerized solar panels to back it up. Knock out the temporary panels on the containers and convert them to modular buildings. Need more MWh? More containers, more acres. Or just truck in a couple tankers of methane and a generator.
Applications requiring high energy density switch to CH4, or use the cheapest solar/wind electricity to turn CH4 to propane/kerosene/gasoline as needed. Aircraft and many ground vehicles will still emit CO2, but it's CO2 that was sucked from the sky: Net Zero is achieved.
Net CO2 reduction comes from diverting air-sourced carbon to fixation: plastics, paints, asphalt, concrete, diamonds.
The Haber-Bosch process uses air-sourced hydrogen or desalination-sourced hydrogen instead of fossil hydrogen to make ammonia.
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oidheadh-con-culainn · 1 year ago
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i need to stop looking at my smart meter because knowing how expensive showers are to run is doing terrible things for my hygiene
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beeseverywhen · 1 year ago
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Why is it that I'll literally put off having a shower for days because 'bad feeling don't want skin to feel wet' while simultaneously I'd happily live in the bath. I have a bath a day and honestly? If not for the waste, I'd have like 3
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lightvixxen · 2 years ago
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“Light rain is expected in your area”
BITCH WHAT LIGHT RAIN??? WE LOST POWER THAT DONT SEEM LIGHT TO ME
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electricworkslondon · 7 months ago
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pukicho · 3 months ago
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What's the weirdest dream/nightmare you've had?
Pukicho story time???
This happened in 2004, I lived in Ireland. I had one very particular dream that I still often think about to this day:
It started in an unusual flat, somewhere up high. It was modern for the time, it felt decidedly Y2K. Every piece of furniture, the walls, the lamps, they were all bright pink. It was so trendy that it almost felt like a parody of itself, but I was a kid, and my mind wasn't clever enough for the act of parody. I would've simply forgotten this flat ever existed if the latter-half of the dream didn't leave such a permanent mark on my memory - now I can recall every last detail.
I asked a stranger to use the restroom. The toilet was downstairs, so I opened up the door to a utility stairwell and began heading down, alone.
I could look through the center of the staircase column, it was pitch-black and there was no visible bottom. I remember going down the staircase for hours, literal hours - A dark, oppressive hum from pipes and vents blinded my ears and shook the inside of my stomach with its volume. I remember thinking how long the dream felt in this moment, I recall getting consciously impatient, but I kept going. My eyes couldn't adjust to the nearly invisible-darkness surrounding me so I put my hand against the walls and handrail for guidance and shuffled downward like a blind man without his walking-stick.
Finally, only a moment before the tension would have juddered me awake, I found the door to the bathroom. I opened it up; to my relief there was light. The room was rectangular, on one end was a boxed-shaped shower with fogged glass, on the other end, a toilet. The floor and wall were decorated by the same beige tile - it all looked hastily plastered. I sat down to do my business. At this moment, the ballooning anxiety I had felt outside had dissipated almost entirely. I sat in silence - I remember acknowledging the sheer contrast in volume between the AC-hum in the bathroom to the oppressive roar from the stairwell.
It was good to be sitting there. I remember feeling as though the dream had slowly turned into a nightmare - but consciously, everything felt right again. Nothing happened for a long time. It grew so boring and tame that my mind stopped focusing on the dream entirely, and I began fading into memoryless sleep. And then the lights went out.
At this point, sitting in a darkness even blacker than the one I had just emerged from, not even a hum could be heard. The only noise I could hear, and just barely, was my own brain-matter hitting against the sides of my ears, bellowing a deep subharmonic hum from within my own skull. Suddenly, every semblance of safety was ripped from my chest, and I sat there, feeling in greater danger than I ever had before. I felt a pressure so omniscient that it choked me -- but nothing came, nothing happened. I waited for minutes - minutes where each second could be counted down in scrutinizing specificity, but nothing happened.
Suddenly, and with no presumption, I felt coarse electricity pumping through my chest. I wrangled with myself in my own bed, feeling what felt like infinite pain pass through me. I could feel myself yelling from within the dream through the vibration of my lungs. A cacophonous buzzing bled into my ears as thousands of people screamed from within my skull. The cries of a falling choir ran-through their screams, like angels falling from heaven.
At the very same moment, a body appeared in the shower. It glowed yellow, so bright and irradiated I could hardly look directly at it. It caressed itself, clawing into its body like it was reeling from immeasurable pain. It moved unnaturally, squirming and spasming as if fast-forwarded. The glass blurred its details, but it did nothing to mask its energy. It was as if it held the sun inside of its own stomach. I felt as though an intruder entered my own mind and I had no power to stop it. Just being near it was enough to kill me, and I was already dying.
The wall of sound lasted not even one full-second - and then - a piercing zap shot me up from my bed, and that was it. I can't remember anything past that point, but I assume I went back to bed shortly thereafter, forgetting what had just happened, if only for that one night. I must have had a vapid dream, worthless and memoryless, unknowing that I had just lived a dream so dreadful that it'd stick to my psyche like tar for the rest of my life.
No other dream has ever felt that way since. It was as if a second-soul decided to visit me, a soul stronger and more omnipotent than mine. Surely a dream is just a dream, regardless of the feeling it gives you, but now I go to bed every night, wishing I'll be the only soul residing within its story.
End!!
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threnodians · 10 months ago
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have another windstorm tonight but hopefully our wood stove will at least be usable if the power goes out because (muffled screaming)
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cherrycreamsicle · 10 months ago
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Because of the electrical fire my room doesn't have any power so I can't even hang out in there past 5pm because the sun has gone down and it's pitch black
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parttimepunner · 1 year ago
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Hawks and other birds must think power lines are the weirdest trees. Like instead of leaves they grow these lightning bungee cords. The trunks are coated with smelly black stuff and even though they look dead they don’t really decay, so they don’t even have tasty insects inside them usually. They are good for watching out for humans / bigger birds / prey though so that’s nice.
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s0dium · 6 months ago
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THAT'S A RED FLAG BABY
JJK MEN AND RED FLAGS
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A/n: Yessirrrr MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Synopsis: Jujutsu men and their red flag in a relationship or generally and how it shows through when they fuck
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Yuuta Okkatsu, Sukuna Ryomen, Choso
Warnings: Emotional abuse, narcissism, controlling behavior, dub-con, semi-public sex, spitting, fingering, rough sex, male masturbation, degrading, praise, teasing
~
Gojo Satoru- Narcissist  
Since he was a kid, Gojo has been praised and called many things
The honored one, the strongest, gifted and so on
But what people don't see is behind those beautiful sapphire eyes, is a goddamn narcissist through and through
He thinks, no he knows that he is the best, best at everything
This includes what goes on in bed.
And its not only that, the white-haired fox only cares about himself too in the sheets, abusing his unnatural stamina and using you like a cock sleeve for his own taste
At least he can be nice about it sometimes
Gojo is relentless. Its almost like your his personal cock sleeve, his dick shaping your insides and abusing your cervix despite your choked sobs and whines for him to stop, to simply slow down. He holds the back of your head with his hand, allowing you to look down at the way you two are connected; how he retracts his hips until his tip barely pokes out, admiring the slick coating his shaft before slamming back into you again.
"Ahhh~ P-please Satoru please...."
Gojo rolls his eyes and scoffs. Why were the people that surrounded him always so weak? Even you. It's a good thing you feel like heaven he could almost forgive you.
Tears stream down your face. Every time the tip of his dick rams against your cervix a powerful feeling mixed with pain and pleasure that surges through your body making you tremble and shake. You're losing your mind. Everything is so good, and, God, you can't ignore how handsome Gojo looks right now. His white hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, and the muscles of his toned abdomen are flexing and unflexing. He is gorgeous, and, boy, he knows it. Even the way your pussy squeezes and spasms around his dick sends more bolts of electric pleasure to dance through your skim.
"Shhhh, just take it 'kay? You're doing so good for me baby." Gojo coos.
Geto Suguru -Controlling
It starts off small, a comment here and there on your choice of friends, a small criticism on where you were going to spend the evening because wouldn't you have much more fun spending it with him?
Then he's starting to pick out outfits for you. Modest but pretty ones for outside but short skimpy clothes for when you're only with him. It even gets to the point where he is controlling your finances, making you only use his credit card, and its not about the money, you can use as much as you want for all he cares. It's about the control, you being helplessly reliant on him.
And Geto has such an easy time getting away with his controlling tendencies, showering you in praises and sweet nothings about how he just wants to protect you. And the way his violet eyes gleam at you, you almost always believe him.
Don't for a second think that he's insecure because it's far from it. The raven-haired man just wants to have you all to himself, he just wants to protect you from the cruel cruel world out there.
"Didn't I tell you to ask me first if you are going to wear an outfit like that?" Geto whispers in your ear but you can barely focus on his words. The curl of his fingers inside you is just too numbing; the way it hits, prods, and massages a spot deep inside your walls that you can only dream about reaching on your own. Geto's fingers are so thick too, almost filling you up as deliciously as his dick does. Almost. "Mmm- I- I, I didn't-" You gasp for air and try to bury your face into your hands. He currently has you against a wall of some bathroom stall but that fact seemed all but lost to you right now. The pleasure was building in your core and fast. Your legs were starting to shake and a numbing electric feeling had taken course throughout your body. You didn't have to open your eyes to know that Geto was smirking.
Suddenly, Goto curls his fingers in a way that deeply presses your g-spot and the dam of pleasure that had built inside you breaks. Your jaw goes slack and your whole body trembles with electricity.
"Didn't expect for you to crack so easily" he chuckles against your ear, and you collapse into his chest. Yuta Okkatsu- Too obsessed
You would think this is a good thing right? You could never love someone too much, but it was different with Yuuta
Sure you had a crush on him, sure you touched yourself to him plenty of times (which Yuuta knew of very well) so the feelings weren't all that unreciprocated
But theres a line, there's a line that Yuta always seems to cross
From taking pictures of you to texting you constantly, christ you even found your panties in his drawer, yuta love was overwhelming.
Yuuta knows that he should wake you up, but he cant bring himself too right now. You just look so beautiful, so perfect under the soft glow of the night sky. Also, he just feels so good right now, Yuuta can barely think so much as speak. "Mmmm-mmm" he whimpers against the pillow, slowly grinding his clothed erection against your bare leg. How would you react if you knew your boyfriend was humping you while you sleep? Would you push him away? No no you're too kind for that, you would probably help him, probably pet his hair and whisper sweet nothings until he finished. Yes, if he knew for a fact that you'd help him when you wake up, what's stopping you from helping you now? Careful not to wake you up, he picks up your hand. It's so small compared to his but wraps so well around his throbbing member. He glides your thumb across his red tip to collect the precum before slowly sliding your hand up and down. The pleasure is immediate. It makes him bury his face into your neck to to press sloppy, wet, hot, and bitten kisses along your skin.
Sukuna Ryomen- Sadist
Where to start with Sukuna. Sukuna is the red flag.
Actually, even that is a complete understatement. Sukuna is straight-up cruel, rather he is a sadist through and through.
Manipulation, degrading, humiliation....although he wouldn't physically abuse you, with emotional abuse he won't hesitate.
You expect compassion, sympathy, and kindness from him? Fat chance. It is hard to see Sukuna being in any relationship at all.
Sukuna certainly doesn't love you, but he sure does love the sex though
Like any good sadist, his sexual pleasure derives from your physical or emotional suffering.
"Aw look at you, fucked you dumb did I?" Sukuna chuckles. A tattooed hand snakes between to your cunt, lightly rubbing your clit before delivering a sharp slap to the nerve.
Your eyes widen and your hips instantly buck up, unintentionally sending his dick deeper into you. The position he has you in is brutal. Both of your legs are thrown over Sukuna's shoulders and pressed against your chest, effectively folding you in half. "Open ya mouth" He orders, but you are too lost in the pleasure that is blooming in your stomach, the pleasure that is making your cunt flutter and squeeze desperately around his fat cock. "I said open." Sukuna delivers a particularly harsh thrust before stilling inside you; keeping the tip of his dick smushed against your cervix. The sudden movement snaps you out of your haze and you obediently widen your mouth letting your tongue hang out. Sukuna lets a glob of spit fall from his lips onto your awaiting tongue. You don't need to be told to swallow, you do so on habit, giving him a soft smile as you do so.
"Fuck, ya so perfect, such a good girl."
Choso- Jealous 
Choso is the type of man who keeps to himself. The type of man to blend in a group or fade into the background.
But that doesn't mean he notices things. In fact, he notices things a bit too well.
Was that your coworker who touched your shoulder? You say that he is just a friend but who should a friend be able to touch you so easily?
He won't hesitate to bring up what he notices either, he says he's not accusing you of anything, that he trusts you, but he totally is.
He hates it when people get to close to his brothers so it posits that he loathes it when it comes to his lover.
How did you get here? How did an argument turn into this?
You want to scream, you want to thrash and tell Choso that he's got it all wrong, that you didn't mean to see your guy friend when you went out to have lunch. It was just a harmless bump-in that turned into a long conversation. Thats it. But the feeling of Choso's dick filling you up, his harsh thrusts and the fucking delicious friction of the drag, Jesus, it's just- it's just so good your mind that your mind is a white sheet.
You are on all fours but you don't know how much longer you can keep the position up. Not with the way he's ramming your pussy from behind.
“You are mine," he grunts out, pumping into you, the length and level of his arousal is brutal. "Mine," he swears, and he pulls you up so your back is pressed against him and you are upright. Choso doesn’t slow his movement though, giving you full, hard thrusts, your breasts bouncing up and down from the harshness of it all.
“You wanna cum? Good, cum."
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confused-wanderer · 6 months ago
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The villains are utterly confused.
They remember the first robin. They remember how bloodthirsty the little gremlin was, how he appeared out of the darkness with a “HIYA FOLKS” that gave people near heart attacks with PTSD so bad they flinched everytime they walked into a dark corner. They remember his grin, baring few too many teeth with a glint in his eyes whenever the bat wasn’t around to curb him. They remember the death stare, the brooding that made no one doubt this was the Bat’s son. They remember how a punch would land a lot harder than it was supposed to, or the screaming that followed. Oh they remembered him alright.
The second one thank the stars was better. The second robin was giggly. He would hop around town, offering his help to everyone who needed it. Sure he was rough with abusers but hell no one cared about them. Matter of fact, the villains were glad because those assholes deserved no sympathy. They remember his puns, his wonder, his innocence and his spark. They remembered his laughter, his concern - the kind that only comes from one who’s been on the streets. This one was better, and the villains thanked their lucky stars. They remembered him alright.
But now, as the years passed and new characters emerged, the crime city saw the rise of two characters - a sunshine happy nightwing and a ready to kill red hood. And naturally, from their experiences in the past, the villains ended up making an honest mistake that ruined the two vigilantes’ reputation:
The villains assumed the first robin was Red Hood and the other was Nightwing. And BY GOD Gotham has not seen unhinged chaos like this.
SCENE 1
Red Hood *drawing his pistol* : Please, reach for your weapon. I’m itching for an excuse for my intrusive thoughts to become extrusive.
Two-Face: You dare mock me little bird?! Well.. I may not have my weapon.. but I have something I know you’d like..
Red Hood: Oh yeah?What’s that?
Two-Face: TAKE THIS! *slams button and coconuts start falling from the sky, all cracking and spilling as they hit the ground*
Red Hood:
Two-Face:
Red Hood: .. the fuck was that supposed to do?
Two-Face: .. HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?! YOU HATE COCONUTS ROBIN!!
Red Hood: The fuck- .. wait did you call me robin?
Two-Face *grins* : Yea.. robin. The first one. Thought I didn’t notice?
Red Hood: The first one? Does this *gestures vaguely to himself and his weapons* seem like something the first robin would do?
Two-Face:
Goon 1: I mean.. yeah
Red Hood: What! The first robin was nice!
Goon 2 *guffawing*: I beg your fucking pardon??
Two-Face: .. you took my coin and attached a magnet beneath it so everytime I flipped it it wouldn’t stop spinning. Do you know how long that took me to figure out?? Do you know how insane it drove me?? Joker had to help me out of pity. OUT. OF. PITY.
Red Hood:
Goon 1: ..Also you did steal some of our bones
Red Hood: hedidfuckingwhatnow-
SCENE 2
Nightwing: Hey there buddy! You look frostyl!
Dr. Freeze: Aha! You are too late to stop me robin!
Nightwing: .. robin?
Dr. Freeze: why yes! Don’t act coy, I know it’s you there. Now that we’ve got that clear.. I was wondering if you remembered all those years ago when you gave me a source for electricity to power a hospital keeping my Nora?
Nightwing:
Dr. Freeze: well you weren’t careful enough and never told me how much I could take from it.. so I used it to power so many of my inventions that came after
Nightwing *remembering when Jason was robin and every damn time he came to visit Wayne Manor his room would always run out power and the countless cold showers in freezing winters he had to take because of it*: .. oh? Well, sorry to break your bubble, but that wasn’t me Elsa.
Dr. Freeze: no? You joke around, make puns and I’m supposed to believe it’s NOT you?. The first one brooded like there was no tomorrow. He pissed me off so bad once I overheard him saying his favourite ice cream flavour and I made sure it wouldn’t be available in Gotham for YEARS. You’re not as bad as the first one. I’d remember if you were him.
Nightwing:
Nightwing *firing up his escrima sticks to maximum voltage*: Oh let me jog your memory then :)
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uno-hundred · 1 year ago
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Pro tip! Depending on the size of your water tank, you may still have hot water even after your power goes out. Exhibit A: me, fresh out of the (hot) shower I just took even though I can’t turn on any damn lights. I had a candle burning on the sink and a flashlight pointed at my tub like I was living in ye olde medieval days again
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opencommunion · 1 month ago
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"Israel wanted to force Lebanon to compel Hezbollah to hand over the Israeli soldiers unconditionally. The working hypothesis was classically colonial in the most banal sense: Hit the Lebanese state and people as hard as possible and they, 'who, like all Arabs, only understand the language of force,' would turn against Hezbollah in order to halt the massacre. This seemed even more likely when, in the words of a radio commentator, 'There is a Christian majority [sic] in Lebanon, which hates Muslims, and Hezbollah in particular.' This mixture of factual ignorance and misunderstanding of human behavior is staggering.
To launch an all-out attack on the whole Lebanese people, destroy a significant part of Lebanon’s infrastructure (Beirut’s port and international airport, hundreds of roads and bridges, a major electric power station, etc.), provoke the exodus of almost 1 million refugees in a matter of days, destroy dozens of villages and the southern districts of the capital, and massacre several hundred civilians, including civilians fleeing combat zones on Israeli army orders—to commit all these crimes in the belief that Lebanese resentment would turn against the Hezbollah militias, and not the Israeli army, is to engage in a particularly bad case of ideological blindness.
When it became clear that achieving the first stated objective—freeing two prisoners of war—was impossible, a new one was announced: the destruction of Hezbollah. But very soon, despite the tons of bombs showered on Lebanon, the Islamic Resistance continued to stand firm and gave no signs of caving in or being crushed. Day by day, the number of rockets hitting the north of Israel grew, including strikes against Haifa, Israel’s third-largest city. Twice, Israeli authorities cried victory before the outcome was certain. They announced the death of Hassan Nasrallah, described as 'buried under the ruins of his bunker,' and then they announced the destruction of the organization’s operational command. In reality, the massive bombings throughout Lebanon’s entire territory failed even to put a dent in Hezbollah’s operational capacities, with the possible exception of its long-range missiles, as a significant number was said to have been destroyed by Israeli aviation on the second week of the conflict. As a result, the official objective was revised for the third time—and on this occasion, narrowed down. Specifically, it became limited to preventing missiles or other rockets from continuing to hit Israeli towns and villages. But Hezbollah was able to continue to pound the north of Israel until the last day of the war. Finally, after failing to achieve the set of objectives described above, the government decided to continue its war with the sole purpose of restoring the Israeli army’s deterrent capacities, shaken by the Hezbollah combatants’ effective resistance to the offensive. Starting then, Israel launched a no-holds-barred onslaught, launching hundreds of tons of bombs, including phosphorous bombs and cluster bombs, and destroying entire villages, to show the world that Israel remained a formidable military power. In this respect above all others, the Israeli war concluded as a fiasco."
Gilbert Achcar and Michel Warschawski, The 33-Day War: Israel’s War on Hezbollah in Lebanon and Its Consequences (2007)
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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months ago
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What If 141... "tell me you need me" and/or " I don't want you to stop"
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Okay. Okay okay okay okay. When I first read this prompt, I genuinely thought I would write something really sweet and soft. But I also have free will. I am an independent individual. I make the choices here. Are they sweet? Yes. Are they soft? A bit. Is this mostly spice? Yes. Yes it is. I will not ask forgiveness.
Presented in four double drabbles.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, non-descriptive sex, praise, fluff, established relationship, suggestive themes
Word Count: 800
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
“Say it, love. I want to hear you say it.”
Everything in you is buzzing. It is loud, as if a hive of bees dwells beneath your skin. Each touch John gives you is electric. A zing of pleasure that rockets outward until the tips of your fingers and toes tingle.
“You don’t play fair,” you whine, sinking against him, surrendering to his touch.
“Never do,” he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe.
You reach up to touch him, to hook your arm around the back of his neck. You need to anchor yourself before you fall over the edge. His fingers are expert things, moving in little circles between your legs. It is agony. And so very sweet.
John seizes your wrist. Brings your arm back to your side.
“No,” he says. “You can’t have that yet.”
“Why not?”
John’s lips brush against your throat. “Tell me you need me. Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” He lightly bites. “Promise.”
You swallow hard. The words are forming, but they are only air. Slipping away with each stroke of his fingers.
John pauses. And that sets you off instantly.
“I need you, John,” you gasp.
“That’s my girl.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Kyle’s fingers thread lightly through your hair. It’s a gentle touch. One that sends a shiver through you.
Your hands roam, touching everywhere. There is skin beneath your fingers. It is taut, slick with water from the shower. Kyle is warm too like a good blanket. You could wrap yourself up in him.
Kyle returns to your hair, working in the shampoo. You close your eyes and sink into the feeling. He has one arm around your waist as if you’ll run off.
“Don’t stop,” you moan. “That feels good.”
Kyle’s soft laugh comes from behind you, and then he guides you under the spray, washing away the shampoo.
“Need to get the rest of you,” he purrs, those strong hands of his grasping your waist, spinning you around to face him. “Where should I start first?”
He traces one finger along your jaw and down the side of your throat only to descend to collarbone and the curve of your breast. He goes lower. Lower still.
You grasp his wrist, arching into his touch.
“Here?” he asks with a smug smile.
You’re needy. And his hand between your legs is bliss.
“I don’t want you to stop,” you reply.
John "Soap" MacTavish
“Oh. Fu—fuck, love. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
Johnny groans loudly above you, his head tilted back in ecstasy. Behind you, the television is on but the sound is muted. It bathes the bedroom in a blueish glow. Johnny isn’t paying attention, and you’re not either.
You are settled between his legs, your mouth full of him.
This is a craving. A vice. Johnny is always the one giving. He loves to do it. Loves to shower you with affection and as much pleasure as you can handle. But you have the control now. You’re the one making him squirm. Making him writhe and whimper.
It’s lovely this feeling. The power is perfect.
No wonder Johnny loves doing this so much.
He groans again, the arm next to his side, fist clenched. His other hand rises, and tentatively brushes against your scalp. Johnny’s eyes are closed. You’re not sure if he even knows what he’s doing.
“I don’t want you to stop,” he says, almost absently, as if speaking to the air.
You continue. Tasting.
His hand against your scalp strengthens, fingers tangling in your hair. His grip is fierce.
“Don’t stop,” he repeats. “Don’t want you to stop.”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“That’s not what you say. You know this, love.”
Simon grasps your chin between thumb and forefinger. He squeezes slightly, tipping upward. You are unable to look away. Unable to move. Those dark eyes with pale eyelashes drive a spear through your heart every time.
It’s maddening.
You lick your lips and Simon follows the movement. He examines your mouth, and then his thumb brushes against the underside of your bottom lip. It sends a little shiver through you. Simon is powerful. Strong. He could easily break you, and yet he can be so gentle.
“I’m not gonna ask again.” Simon draws you closer and leans forward as if to kiss you. He doesn’t though, simply holds there, awaiting an answer.
He won’t give you what you’re seeking just yet. Not until you say the magic words.
“Tell me you need me,” he murmurs.
That is all Simon wants. To be desired. To be needed. He loves to hear it from your lips, especially like now when the two of you are tangled in each other. Other times, it’s simple things like reaching something on the top shelf.
And you will tell him.
You always do.
“I need you, Simon.”
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rowarn · 4 months ago
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bizarre thought.....shadow entity!ghost..... @sgtgarricks is responsible for this!!!
i already want to write another part to this LMAOOOOOOO
part : two
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when you first moved into your new house, you knew it was old and had been vacant for a looooong time. it had a bizarre history of people living there and moving out months, even weeks later. most people declined offering a reason for their quick move but others would just vaguely supply that the 'energy was dark in that house', you weren't bothered.
it was a nice, big, house and for damn cheap too. you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
your first nights in the house, you understood what they meant. there was something off about the house for sure. at random times, you would feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, as if alerting you to danger. when you would turn around, there was nothing there. but it would leave you with sweaty palms and a racing heart.
it wasn't until a week into your new life that the first weird thing happened. it was like something from a stereotypical horror movie. you heard a strange sound and got out of bed to investigate. when you got to your kitchen, all the cabinets and drawers were open and your kitchen chairs were placed on top of your table -- which had also been moved across the kitchen.
you tried to take some deep breaths to calm yourself as you returned everything back to normal. you went over and over in your head for some kind of explanation for the event before finally landing on the fact that this house was fucking haunted.
strange events kept happening after that. lights would turn on, your kitchen cabinets would be open, sinks and showers would turn on, doors would slam from across the house. you were losing sleep over it. every single night you'd be woken up by some strange event and you were beginning to understand why the past tenants had moved out so fast.
this was a rotten way to live.
the final straw for you was the night the activity really seemed to ramp up. whatever spirit was haunting you wanted you out now. multiple doors slammed, jolting you from your sleep -- your heart racing from how hard you had been startled from your dreams. you got to your feet and turned on your lamp only to find it wasn't working.
next, you tried the overhead light. same thing.
fuck. it had caused the power to bust.
now you were really scared.
you grabbed your phone, using the flashlight to navigate your way out of the bedroom. the floorboards creaked beneath you, considerably louder without the hum of electricity.
you were halfway down the hall when you heard it. quiet at first, but definitely there. footsteps. mimicking your own, as if echoing after you took your own steps, making sure you knew it was there.
you spun around, shining the light upon nothing. you let out a heavy breath, noticing the way the flashlight shook from how hard you were trembling.
"a-alright, ghost," you called into the empty house, too scared to feel stupid that you were talking to nothing, "i-i'll admit i'm pretty scared right now. i-i know you probably want me out of your house. this is your house, i get it. bu-but i already sunk all my damn savings into moving in here s-so i can't leave!" you swallow, a loud gulping sound that would be funny if you weren't about to piss yourself, "s-so if we could just live together for a little while longer. i-i promise i'll get out the second i have the money!"
there was nothing but tense silence. you felt like an idiot the more seconds that passed. were you trying to make a deal with a fucking ghost? a spirit of someone who probably died in this house? what kind of shit had your life become?
you peered into the inky blackness of the hallway, blinking as you try to futilely see. it takes you a moment to realize you're not just staring into the darkness of your hallway. it's something else.
pure darkness. a dark entity taking form in the blackness of the night. you want to step back, primal fear coursing through you like you never felt before. whatever fear you were feeling was primordial in nature -- as if this entity was something you were born to fear.
the darkness began to swallow up the hallway, eating away at the light your flashlight had created. the air felt heavy and oppressive, making it difficult to take in oxygen.
you swear you could feel hands on you, grabbing you and pulling at you. the longer you stared into the darkness, the more you thought you could see things. eyes. hundreds of eyes. but when you blinked, the images vanished.
then, all at once, the entity was gone and your light was shining down the hallway again unimpeded. after another second, the sound of the electricity slamming back on filled the house and you collapsed to your knees.
whatever that was, it was dangerous. you knew that now.
but it didn't hurt you. perhaps it agreed to your terms and would leave you be now?
oh how wrong you were. sure, it wasn't nearly as scary as that night but now you saw it.
around every turn.
you could see the shadow take shape from the corner of your eye but when you looked, it would be gone. you would be brushing your teeth and when you looked in the mirror, it stood behind you, making your heart leap out of your chest. when you would turn, it wasn't there.
you were no longer woken up in the night, at least. but you weren't sure if you preferred the regular haunting stuff to seeing the ghost or not. you were on the fence about which was worse.
after another scare from the ghost, you jumped so hard that you almost fell over, "alright you -- ghost! will you quit scaring me like that!?" you found yourself shrieking.
to your abject horror, you heard laughter in return.
the shadow shit was fucking laughing at you. like it was enjoying this.
it wasn't evil laughter either. it sounded like pure enjoyment.
you suppose it wasn't out of the realm of possibility for a ghost to make sounds but it didn't make it any less horrifying.
you started talking to it more after that. once you heard its voice - sort of- it became easier. the fear also dissipated in time. sure it would jump scare you from time to time to get a laugh but other than that, it became like living with a really annoying roommate.
"will you get out of my mirror!" you snapped, mouth full of toothpaste with you facemask on. its disappearance was marked with its mirthful laughter.
you also noticed as the days and weeks passed, it stopped looking like a shapeless shadow and more like a person -- a big one at least. well over 7 feet tall. if you looked for long enough, you could almost make out what you think is a skull where the face would be on a human.
one night, you're laying in bed, comfortable. there's rain pelting outside on your window and distant thunder, too nice of weather to sleep away. so you just choose to relax and listen to it.
"ghost?" you find yourself calling into the darkness, "are you there?"
its silent but you feel the air grow heavy and you know that it's arrived. it seems to have...consciousness, you realized. it reacts to you and listens to you. there's one thing that's been plaguing you that you want to ask, though you're not sure if it will answer -- if it can answer.
"you're not really a ghost are you?" you ask.
you're greeted by silence for several, long seconds before you hear it. it's deep and masculine, a whisper of an echo following its voice when it speaks as if multiple things were speaking but only one voice was amplified, "no."
it's the answer you were expecting but that didn't mean you liked it. you swallow harshly around the lump of anxiety in your throat.
"are you going to hurt me?" you ask it, dreading the answer to this one. just because it's been toying with you doesn't mean it's not still dangerous.
"no," it responds again. you can hear footsteps, the entity walking closer and closer to your bed.
you let out a relieved breath at that. though, you're not sure if you should actually believe the dark entity that lives in your house. but at this point, you've really got no choice except to take it's word for it.
"what's your name?" you find yourself asking it.
"ghost," it responds quickly.
you laugh at that, "no, you're real name."
"ghost," it insist, "you gave me a name."
a lightbulb goes off over your head.
"is that why you're being so nice to me?" you ask, not sure if 'nice' is the appropriate word to use.
"i wanted a name," it answers, "you gave me one."
"a name in exchange for living in this house," you muse, deciding to roll over in bed, "alright then. goodnight, ghost."
"rest well," it responds before vanishing, freeing the room from that oppressive feeling.
you close your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep, briefly wondering where ghost even came from and what exactly it was.
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this is unedited i wrote it in a fury of inspiration i hope u enjoyed it regardless of how WEIRD this was LMFAOOOOOOOOOO
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