#cloud pruning

[jillraggett]

Plant of the Day

Sunday 30 March 2025

The small New Zealand shrub Leptospermum 'Silver Sheen' (tea tree) produces striking silvery-blue foliage and small white flowers. It is tolerant to drought and to pruning, so perfect for creating this cloud hedge through the border.

Jill Raggett

[garethschweitzer]

Cloud pruning

[plush-tsukki]

[moonflower-faerie]

textpost dump pt 1 out of whatever

[beatrixblog]

I did the annoying pigeon meme..but with cookies….aaaaa

[itsthundertime]

HE'S AT IT AGAIN GUYS

BURNING SPICE, GET YO ASS AWAY FROM PURE VANILLA

Pool party

He thinks

Prolonged eye contact

(Prolonged eye contact)

Prolonged eye contact

(Prolonged eye contact) /ref

Flower girls like the flower area, me thinks(+ Candy Diver)

"Oh shoot...OH SHOOT...HE'S STOPPING, HE-HE'S...HE'S FOLLOWING ME!"/ref x2

Prune Juice is up to some mischievous tomfoolery ✨✨

SHE'S SO CUTE WHEN WATERING FLOWERS AND PLANTS OMG😭😭

[fatherforgivemeforihavesinned]

i hope this does not end up a medical emergency bc tht will be embarrassing™ 🙃

[rajaniesh]

Supercharge Your Data: Advanced Optimization and Maintenance for Delta Tables in Fabric

Dive into the final part of our series on optimizing data ingestion with Spark in Microsoft Fabric! Discover advanced optimization techniques and essential maintenance strategies for Delta tables to ensure high performance and efficiency in your data Ops

Welcome to the third and final installment of our blog series on optimizing data ingestion with Spark in Microsoft Fabric. In our previous posts, we explored the foundational elements of Microsoft Fabric and Delta Lake, delving into the differences between managed and external tables, as well as their practical applications. Now, it’s time to take your data management skills to the next…

[sixeyesonathiel]

love thy neighbor — teaser

pairing – boy next door! gojo x fem reader

summary : you grew up with the boy next door, the one with crooked smiles and too much charm for someone who tracked mud into every room. satoru made it a habit to annoy you, throwing water over the fence and calling you by the nickname you hated most. somehow, between the bickering and backyard showdowns, he became the one person you could never quite shake.

then college happened, and distance made things quieter—but not for long. one summer, you're both back, arguing over garden hoses like nothing ever changed. he still calls you that nickname, but now he says it softer, like it's a secret he hopes you’ll finally notice.

tags –> one shot, expected 20k+ wc, neighbors au, childhood frenemies to lovers, suburban warfare (moms edition), mutual pining, domestic in the pettiest way possible, slow burn, she hated him (she did not), he loved her (he still does), summer vacation tension, other additional tags to be added

red string of fate collection m.list.

the neighborhood was perfect.

white fences, manicured lawns, and an unspoken rule that everything must remain picturesque. but beneath the surface of perfection, an ancient war raged: your mother versus satoru’s. it was a battle fought with gardening shears and passive-aggressive remarks, masked by polite smiles at neighborhood events.

your mother, ever the strategist, sipped her tea with a dramatic sigh whenever satoru’s mother so much as stepped onto her porch. “oh, did you see the way she over-fertilizes?” she mused, her voice dripping with feigned concern. “poor plants, suffocating under all that desperate effort.”

meanwhile, satoru’s mother, arranging her hydrangeas in full view of your living room window, would hum thoughtfully before muttering, “i’d be embarrassed if my hydrangeas were that dull. not that i’d let it happen.”

the tension was palpable, woven into every stolen glance and whispered insult disguised as gardening advice. neither woman ever admitted the rivalry outright, but the perfectly pruned rose bushes and the carefully curated window boxes spoke volumes.

their husbands, however, lived in blissful ignorance. every weekend, they could be found on the golf course or clinking beer bottles over the backyard fence, chuckling about how “our wives are gonna kill each other one day, huh?”

the rivalry simply amused them.

but you and satoru? you were casualties. you were dragged into their war from the moment you could walk, coached into side-eyed glares and dismissive huffs whenever the gojos were mentioned.

when your father first introduced you to satoru at a neighborhood barbecue, he did so with the same pride as a general uniting two warring factions. “this is satoru, gojo’s boy!” he beamed, clapping his friend on the back.

but instead of an instant friendship, all satoru got was a glare and the words your mother had fed you over breakfast that morning.

“we don’t talk to people who use fake grass as a lawn substitute.”

you said it with the confidence of someone who truly understood what that meant, though in reality, you weren’t entirely sure why fake grass was so offensive. satoru blinked at you, mouth slightly open, his white lashes fluttering as if he hadn’t processed what just happened.

“...huh?” he finally said, voice trailing off in confusion.

your dads laughed, the kind of laugh that men share when they think their kids are just being silly. it wasn’t silly. it was war. and from that moment on, satoru gojo was your enemy, whether he wanted to be or not.

the first time you’re sent outside to water the garden, you don’t think much of it—until you see satoru stepping out of his house at the same time, dragging a garden hose behind him. he’s still in his pajamas, some silly blue set with little clouds on it, his white hair sticking up in messy tufts, like he just rolled out of bed. he’s wearing slippers—bunny slippers, to be precise—but what really catches your attention are the socks. white with tiny little blue stars, pulled up just past his ankles, the kind of socks that scream these are my favorite and if anything happens to them, i will never recover.

you freeze, fingers tightening around the nozzle as he glances at you, then at his own hose, then back at you. for a second, neither of you speak. but you both know. your moms, pretending to be absorbed in their baking and magazine-reading inside, have timed this on purpose. “pure coincidence,” your mother had said, the corners of her lips twitching in barely concealed triumph, and you—foolish, naive—had believed her.

satoru, being satoru, tries to be friendly at first, tilting his head as he watches you water the tulips along the fence. “your tulips are kinda nice,” he says, casual, like he’s just making conversation, like he isn’t the enemy.

you whip your head toward him so fast your hair smacks you in the face, eyes narrowing, scoffing as if he’s just insulted your entire bloodline. “don’t lie. your mom says they’re ugly.”

his jaw drops, scandalized, and you swear you can hear the dramatic gasp of betrayal in the air. “well, your mom says our garden looks like a plastic factory exploded.” he crosses his arms, standing his ground, his voice rising slightly like he can’t believe you just threw that at him.

you stare at him.

he stares at you.

the hose in your hand drips onto the grass, but you’re too busy processing his words to care. your mother had what? you had been raised on the belief that your family had the superior garden, the most elegant flowers, the healthiest grass. and now, satoru gojo, the enemy, was claiming that your mom had been talking about his garden?

your lips part in slow betrayal, nose wrinkling in distaste, and you take a slow step back. he mirrors you, blue eyes narrowed in suspicion, his fingers twitching against the hose. neither of you say another word. but you both know what’s coming next.

the next day, war begins. it starts simple—satoru ‘accidentally’ sprays you with his hose while you’re carefully pruning the roses, his grin widening when water soaks into your shirt. you shriek, stumbling back, clutching your watering can tighter like a weapon.

fine. if that’s how he wants to play, then so be it. you take a step, then another, before gasping dramatically and tripping—the entire can of water spilling directly onto his feet.

he lets out a scream, the most theatrical, over-the-top wail you’ve ever heard, jumping back like he’s been set on fire. “MY SOCKS!” he yells, staring down at them in pure horror, his slippers useless against the water seeping in. his hands fly up to his head, gripping his white tufts in agony, eyes squeezed shut like he’s in a tragedy film. “they’re wet! my favorite socks are WET!”

“oh, please,” you huff, rolling your eyes even as your own shirt clings uncomfortably to your skin. “it’s just water.”

“IT’S IN MY SOCKS.” he’s pacing now, hands on his hips, face twisted in pure devastation. “DO YOU KNOW HOW GROSS WET SOCKS ARE?!”

the next thing you know, you’re both storming inside, loudly declaring your grievances to your fathers.

“she did it on purpose!”

“he started it first!”

you both jab fingers in each other’s direction, demanding justice, your voices overlapping in a chorus of whiny accusations. satoru’s slippers squelch with every step he takes, which only makes him angrier, which only makes you smugger. but your dads, ever the peacemakers, just chuckle over their beers and wave you off. “just work it out, kids!”

useless. completely, utterly useless.

you and satoru glare at each other from across the room, still damp, still fuming, both of you knowing, deep in your little childish hearts—whether you like it or not, this is only the beginning.

tag list : @akeisryna @esotericsorrow @prettilyrisse @cherrymoon55 @linaaeatsfamilies @lilychan176 @n1vi @myahfig4 @here4dafics @stfusatoru @mintcheery @44ina @twinkling-moonlilie-reblogs @getoicious @flowerpot113 @satoruxsc @whytfisgojosohot @emoedgylord @your-mum3000 @chich1ookie @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @drunkenlionwrites @katsukiseyebrows @heartsforseo @beabamboo @bnbaochauuu @cupidsfrost @ethereal-moonlit @arabellasolstice

comment to join the tl xx

[ovenborn]

Tags !

[daily-struggle-bd]

Contemporary Landscape - Landscape Design concepts for a mid-sized modern yard with a wood fence and river rocks that is partially in the sun.

[hellyeahkaito]

Landscape in London Photo of a small contemporary shade courtyard landscaping.

[bloodstainedsapphic]

marigold crush

gardener ellie!au. what you thought would kick off a petty neighborhood feud ends up turning into something a whole lot hotter than the summer sun above. the reason? it starts with ellie, the cute employee at the garden center—who knows a thing or two about getting her hands dirty. thank you to my @meganegatari for providing input and proofing as always <3

wc 3.1k minors dni - making out, dirty talk, fingering (r!receiving)

with summer rapidly creeping up, you set your sights on a new project—upgrading your gardening skills. it sounded simple enough at first. plant a few things, water them, watch them grow. oh, how wrong you were. you realized, much too late, how surprisingly demanding it all was. soil types, lawn maintenance, what plants thrived where, which ones were perennials, how to keep them alive with proper care like watering, pruning, and mulching. before long, you were making an embarrassing number of trips to the nearby garden center.

not that it had anything to do with the pretty employee who was always ready with a new tip just when you needed one.

miss ellie—as per her name tag—carried herself professionally, politely enough. always eager to explain answers, she sometimes skipped over beginners’ tricks, then circled back to catch you up. everything she suggested, though, ended up helping immensely. you liked that. she was sweet.

you told yourself it was a coincidence, how often your visits lined up with her shift. you weren’t memorizing her schedule—god, no. you just… noticed a pattern. for advice purposes. obviously. she had the best advice.

while the trial and error of gardening took up most of your time, another thorn lodged itself in your side—this one not literal. your newish neighbor had apparently taken up the same hobby, and, enragingly, their results far outshone yours. how was everything so lively? why were their perennials already blooming? their yard looked freshly trimmed and popping with color every single day. yours, a work in progress, wilted a little more every time you glanced at the progress next door. you couldn’t help but sulk from time to time. it was starting to feel personal.

a part of you really wanted to give your neighbor a piece of your mind. in your opinion, there was absolutely no way they weren’t doing this on purpose. ever since they moved in just under a year ago, it had been the same infuriating pattern—everything you did, they somehow managed to do ten times better. halloween decorations, holiday lights, even their progressive political flags had wittier slogans than yours. and the worst part? you’d never even seen them. not once. this silent gardening supremacy—that you weren’t even sure they knew was a competition—was the final straw. how they pulled it off while staying completely out of sight was beyond you.

granted, your competitive streak might’ve been clouding your better judgment, and you were, admittedly, acting a little unhinged—but you had to know their secret. you had to meet them, to understand the method behind the madness of their picture-perfect flower beds.

so, in a move wholly unlike you, you got up early one sunny morning and baked cookies. warm from the oven, stacked neatly in a sewing tin—just a friendly, xenial gesture. no ulterior motives. none at all.

you step out your front door, ready to march up their porch and put an end to the mystery once and for all—only to freeze in place.

imagine the shock when there, in the garden next door, kneeling in the dirt with gloved hands and a quiet hum under her breath, was the very same ginger woman who had been giving you advice all summer.

ellie.

suddenly, it felt really personal.

she must have witnessed you struggling in your yard at least a dozen times by now. the tips. the encouragement. her uncanny ability to know exactly what should go where. the conveniently timed suggestions that always hit just right. and not once had she mentioned she lived next door?

diabolical, honestly. ellie was gradually unfurling under the strain of the heat and her work, of course. her white tank top, drenched in sweat, clung to her like a second skin. she tugged at the fabric to fan herself off. her flushed, freckled skin glistened under the early morning rays, and her auburn hair was plastered to the back of her neck. your gaze shifted to her arms—tense, fit, and tattooed—then to her hands skillfully handling the tools.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you huffed, louder than intended, managing to reach her ears. 

ellie looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun. and then—she grinned. of course she grinned, like she hadn’t just upended your entire understanding of reality. like you weren’t standing there, tin of cookies in hand, suddenly feeling ridiculous, and very underprepared for whatever this was.

“well, hey there, neighbor.” she greets you far too warm, too chipper. 

you stared at her. “you live next door?”

“mm-hmm,” she said, standing up slowly to stretch out her legs and dusting her earth-covered hands off on her thighs. “for, like, ten months now. give or take.”

you glance down at the sewing box of cookies in your hand. despite ellie’s state—sweating, smudged with dirt—you hold it out for her.

“a welcome gift,” you offer. “just… ten months late. give or take.”

ellie breaths a laugh and takes the box, peeking inside, nodding in approval.

“damn. look at you. thanks,” she mutters, setting it down on a nearby plastic chair cluttered with gardening tools. your eyes flicker between your sad little yard and her perfectly maintained one.

“did… did you know? all this time? when i came in to ask questions?”

“yep,” ellie says, totally unfazed, hands settling on her hips. “it was kinda cute, watching you take my advice and, y’know… try it out.” she pauses, then adds to soften the blow, “i thought about coming over a few times. offering a hand. but you looked so determined, hacking away at weeds, replanting flowers i suggested, i didn’t want to interrupt...” she trailed off. 

you blinked, trying to recalibrate. “that’s okay, i just… wow.”

ellie notices your stupor and an idea comes to mind. “well. since you’re already here—i was about to head to the shed. wanna stick around? i could show you a few things. if you’re cool with that.” then, teasing, “no charge. this time. cookies count though.”

you find yourself trailing after her into the backyard—just as immaculate as the front—to a small shed tucked in the far corner of the lot. it doesn’t look like much from the outside, but inside, it’s packed chock-full with every gardening item you could imagine, from seed packets, terracotta pots, and shelves lined with tools. half of them, you didn’t even recognize, which only made the sting of your amateurity more potent. 

thankfully, ellie’s easygoing explanations help ease the mood. she’s showing off her tools, fertilizers, and offering tips, and you’re taken aback by seeing her in this new light. she was always cute, which is why you’d kept timing your visits to the garden center a little too well. but this? watching her work in the summer heat, flushed and confident, completely in her element—it ignited something new in you. here you were, ready to start a petty squabble with your new neighbor, but instead, your stomach was full of butterflies. ellie added a few well-loved, indiscernible tools to a bag, slung it over her freckled shoulder, and ushered you outside before closing the shed door behind her.

“alright, so. show me the damage,” she said, jerking her chin toward your yard.

“my what?” “your flower bed,” she called over her shoulder, already walking ahead. “gotta check if you actually listened to me.” before you can say anything, ellie’s already knee-deep in your garden, pulling up the weeds you missed and fixing the patches where your mulch is spread too thin. you’re not sure what hits harder—the embarrassment from the sheer number of mistakes she’s quietly correcting, or the way her initiative turns you on.

your role is mainly reduced to handing her tools and keeping her hydrated. water swiftly proves to be necessary as ellie worked diligently, showing off her mastery, the early morning sun rises to a brighter, more oppressive, sweltering heat. you try stepping in to help a few times, but the firm swats from ellie’s palm—quick, pointed, and slightly amused—make it clear she’s not about to let you much of the heavy lifting.

still, she doesn’t treat you like a helpless maiden. eventually, she has you kneeling beside her, guiding your hands, her calloused fingers splayed atop of your own, instructing you through the same techniques she’s spent the season explaining in passing. her voice is low, sure, and steady beside you, her skin warm where it brushes yours under the sun. 

she starts with the marigolds, helping you replant them first—their vibrant yellows and oranges thriving in this full-sun corner. from there, it’s onto the petunias, where she fusses over spacing, then the dusty miller and the salvia. her encouragement is doing the opposite of helping. you try to stay focused, to press the soil like she showed you, but your thoughts keep drifting to the feel of her hand on yours.

"no—don’t just pat it down like that, you need to press a little firmer with the trowel. yeah, like this." she shifts closer, her hand curling over yours, both of you bent low over the bed of marigolds. you can feel her breath at your temple, her voice gone a little quieter, more raspy now. "there you go. knew you had it in you."

her sheer determination shouldn’t affect you the way it does, but damn. the moment your thoughts start lingering on the idea of licking the brine off her neck, you know you desperately need to cool off—literally and figuratively. it only gets worse when her hand holds the small of your back for half a moment too long, steadying you as you dug further into the soil. the simple touch sent a shiver through you, making your pulse race. it wasn’t just the heat anymore. did she know what she was doing? there was no way ellie wasn’t this self-aware. given she had let you try and fail at this garden all summer, she was probably more aware of her actions than you could easily wrap your brain around.

the rest of the adjustments come together quickly after that, both of you worn out and damp with sweat, but working in sync. at long last, ellie straightens up with a groan, wiping her glossy brow, appraising your now vastly-improved flower bed with lazy pride. “muchhhh better,” her eyes glint with approval, tossing the trowel practically molded to her hand aside. then she stretches, slow and unbothered, muscled arms rising overhead until they’re drawn taut, her off-white tank lifting just enough to entice your most lewd thoughts into wanting to see more. then she runs a hand through her damp, disheveled auburnette hair, leaving it even more a mess. “may i ask the lady for a drink? and a chance to wash up a bit?” your yes is obvious. you leave your tools just as they are on the ground and motion for ellie to follow you inside. of course she needs a rest, probably dying of thirst—though you’re probably the thirstier one in that moment.

the space is filled with the sound of the rush of crisp water and the clink of glasses as you both scrub dirt off and pour drinks. ellie mutters a soft thanks, taking hers after drying her hands on a dish towel.

she looks hot here. out of place, certainly—sun-streaked and a perspiry mess in your nearly spotless kitchen. but it only makes you want the cute gardener turned hot nuisance of a neighbor-turned... whatever this is... even more.

you swallow your nerves, chasing them with another sip of water.

“you know, i always thought you were cute,” you tease, eyes flicking to hers. “ever since you helped me pick out my first supplies.” you reflect like you’re feeling nostalgic, though you’re definitely up to something.

“yeah?” ellie quirks a brow. she’s smart, knowing exactly what you’re doing. the cute, tentative girl from the garden shop was gone- this was someone confident in every move. her voice dips low, eyes narrowing with a flirtsome gleam. “you still think i’m just cute now?”

“well,” you murmur, voice low, a little shaky, trying to match her coy pitch, “i wouldn’t say just cute.”

she tilts her head, flashing a zealous, lopsided grin. “i’ve got a lot more i could show you. with my hands. can i?”

when she then takes a step closer—your heart seizes.

was this really happening? were you about to get fucked into next week by the cute gardener turned next-door neighbor? your mind races a million miles a minute, the whole scenario unraveling like a scene straight from fanfiction.

well, you were right! just like that, ellie closes the space between you, her hand sliding around your waist as she nudges you back against the cool, angular side of the kitchen island.

the marble presses against your lower back, forcing a half-giggle, half-stunned, shaky exhale from your lungs. you realize you’re probably not hiding the gleeful expression on your face as well as you thought, especially given the cheesy grin the hot dork returns.

her roughened hands trail along your jawline, the juxtaposition of her tough-feeling skin with the most gentle gesture makes you feel woozy. “you know,” she murmurs, voice low and almost amused, “i thought about you a lot. the clueless girl always showing up on my shift, asking the kinda questions you knew i’d love answering.”

your face warms, and ellie clicks her tongue, clearly satisfied. “and here's the thing. i didn’t mind. kinda liked knowing you’d come find me.” she pauses, smirking as a vexing fire ignites behind her eyes. then she adds, “figured you’d eventually need help with the yard. saw you out there, all hot and frustrated trying to figure it out on your own. guess i was right, huh?”

the reminiscent teasing is cut short when her lips connect with your own, tossing the last of your inhibitions aside and letting blind instinct take over. all nerves melt, and your mind goes blank as her teeth catch your bottom lip and tug. you grab at her waist, hands sliding up to her ribcage — one curling into a fistful of her auburn hair, the other slipping beneath her dirtied tank top to caress the warm skin at her side.

time ceases to matter. all you feel is her hands, fervid and searching, and her hot, wet mouth moving against yours — heaven. the soft, immodest moans she lets slip only pull you deeper in. ellie traces your lips with her tongue, coaxing them open, chasing breathless sounds from you. the kiss is messy, to say the least. your front teeth collide with hers, noses bumping, spit dribbling down both your chins— it was clear she wanted you just as much as you wanted her. the waiting paid off. 

but, you feel a pause, and then loss of contact.“fuck i—” ellie huffs. she's breathless, her voice scratchy with need. the voracity at which she pulls away, breaking the fragile strands of spit that webbed across your mouths— it concerns you. 

you open your mouth to inquire, but she cuts you off by grabbing your hips with her muscled hands, and fleetly turns you around so you're facing away from her, and are bent over the counter. its hard surface is chill to the touch- your only reprieve from the heat between you two. 

your mind practically short-circuits. even though she isn't too forceful, the motion still makes you yelp. you want this, no— you crave it, and ellie’s animalistic side takes over, leaning over you with her front pressed flush against your back, one hand perfecting the arch of your back and then finding purchase at your waist. she starts shamelessly sucking purpled marks into the side of your neck and rutting her pelvis against the swell of your ass. pushing your hair further to the side, she bites down on your skin and soothes with her tongue, the acts sending goosebumps all over you.

you were completely at her mercy, no thoughts occupying your head other than everything about her: her voice, her touch— you couldn't get enough.  “ellie,” you moan her name, and she damn near purrs into your ear. you brace yourself against the cool surface, clinging onto it for respite, grounding yourself to keep steady as your legs grow weak. 

her right hand is pawing all over you, stopping to fondle your clothed breast, then snaking down your stomach and into your pants. hooking your panties aside, ellie lets out an unholy sigh at how wet you already are. 

her greedy fingers graze your slit, then begin steadily circling your clit as you mewl. ellie groans like she can feel it herself. her voice breaks, but she mutters against the nape of your neck, “fuck, damn baby. all this f'me?”

you weren't going to last, all the build up was about to bubble over momentarily. but you had to try, because it was all too good to end so soon.

descending further, she pushes her two middle digits inside your eager, sopping hole, curling as she fucked into you, your body gradually rising like a crescendo to a dizzying peak. “come on, cum for me,” ellie encourages, her free hand reaching out and landing on top of yours to share in your pleasure as your orgasm washes over you. she soothes you with a placid squeeze, a silent reminder she's got you. the pressure in your lower abdomen builds, until one last thrust sends you spilling ecstasy all over her fingers. she helps you ride it out, lightly rubbing your twitching clit and mumbling praises all the while. as your body shudders, ellie’s rutting against your ass slows, mirroring your panting and humming some encouragement.

upon coming down from the buzz, you rest your forehead on the counter's surface, trembling whimpers leaving your fucked-out form. the fingers just inside you meet ellie’s lips, tasting you on her like you’re something ambrosial, already addicted to your essence. her hands then run over your form in calming passes as you fully return to reality. “you know…” after some comfortable silence she starts, voice smug, “this could’ve happened a lot sooner—if you’d just said something instead of memorizing my whole damn work schedule.”

“oh, shut up,” you manage, still catching your breath, but content nonetheless.

ellie grins, brushing her thumb along your cheek. “what? i mean it. you're sweeter than anything i’ve ever grown.”

[running-with-kn1ves]

A Siren's Hunger

A/N: Wrote this a year (?) ago but decided to edit it to make it post-worthy. Idk what I was on when I wrote this.

CW: reader losing a lot of blood, biting, graphic fears of being eaten, predator vs prey, sharp teethses Synopsis: Dragged underwater by a siren, you play a series of games to prevent her from devouring you whole, only to offer an uncomfortable proposition in exchange for your life.

"Eight... nine... ten! Come out, come out, wherever you are!" 

You covered your mouth with pruned fingers, roughly cutting off any oxygen as your chest pounded. Your heart was going a mile a minute, as if you were a small, skittish creature hiding from something ready to devour. You peered around the rock you hid behind, eyes darting around the small body of water and searching for any signs of movement. The water rippled in small waves but you couldn't tell where they were coming from. 

The water always seemed to be moving, no matter if everything inside of it stood still. You gripped the rock with one hand, the other still covering your mouth and nose as you tried to breathe as quietly as possible. 

Your eyes were wide and alert, your mind chanting prayers and hopes of being hidden enough to at least last through this game. But a fin flipped to your left, creating waves and reverbed echoes in the shadowy cave. You jerked back behind the large boulder, splashing lightly in the water as you sank lower to hide yourself. Your entire body was wet, hair dripping as your clothes were drenched to the point of sagging. 

They clung to your skin, each layer sticky and damp and refusing to let go. Your shoes made it impossible to swim long distances, and the sweater entrapping your arms and torso made you sink slightly. At this point you were tempted to take it off if it meant you had a better chance at swimming away. 

The sound of slapping on the water was closer now, hums of excitement and curiosity only a few feet away from the rock you desperately held on to. Her voice was so near, crystal clear and beautiful snippets of a song you had never heard. It was enchanting, drawing your hand away from your mouth. Your eyes glazed over, begging to be drawn out from behind the rock and towards the alluring voice. You tried to push back, digging your nails into the boulders surface and even wrapping your legs around it. But it wasn't enough; your body had a new goal that didn't involve survival. Mere attraction, a fatal seduction that would turn you to nothing but clumps of wet meat in the sea.

It felt like your skin was on fire, burning up in the cool water as you tried to shut your eyes and plug your ears. But as the singing got louder, a soft and tempting melodic voice calling to you, you couldn't hold back. Your mind grew hazy, only focusing on the fins sticking out of the deep water and the enchanting voice that clouded your senses. 

As soon as you realized your mistake --stepping a mere few inches beside the boulder rather than behind it-- you were too late. 

"Boo!" She shouted. The end of her siren song caused you to snap out of your trance and shriek at her sunken, angled face. 

You swam back to the rock as she laughed, your nails scraping against the rough surface as you clung to it for security. 

"You're so easy," she giggled, her mouth opening to air rows of shark-like sharp, lethal, teeth. 

"You, cheated--" Huddling into yourself you shyed away from her with a heavy exhale. She made you afraid, every part of her screaming at you to “run away or be eaten” but you couldn't; in this small little pool, stuck in this freezing cave, you had no way out. Well, no way without drowning first, or being “shredded alive” as the siren sweetly put it after bringing you in here.

You shuddered, looking down at the underwater hole opening to the endless sea that tempted you. If you were just a little bit stronger, a little faster, you could make it out of this sparkling, terrifying cave that you got dragged in. 

"I didnt cheat," she licked her lips, bobbing up and down in the water. "You're just a sore loser. Now, my prize?" 

You clenched your teeth, traveling around the boulder to the other side as she pursued you. Her slick, charcoal hair nearly covered the boney and wide features of her face; terrifying electric blue eyes peering deeply at you, like a prey she couldn't let out of her sight lest it bolt. She was bizarrely gaunt, yet possessed an unseen strength and serratedness in her teeth and fingers, her tail a flexible whip that had yet to be used against you.

But, that doesn't count! You used a method I couldn't get away from, s-so--" 

"You could have gotten away if you tried hard enough." She lifted an eyebrow, continuing to float at you around the boulder, but not yet striking. "I've had humans manage to escape. They've been few and far between but..." she grinned maliciously, reminiscing on their taste and fond memories of such chase. "If you really wanted it, you could have won. But you didn't." 

"You have an unfair advantage," you scowled, trying to protect yourself from her hands that seemed keen on grabbing yours. "Please, uhm," 

"Alette. Did you forget already?" 

"Well it's kind of hard to remember when you're threatening to maim me!" You shot back. You were panicking, hardly a head above begging for your life and cussing her out simultaneously. "Please just give me another chance,  just one more game--" 

"That's what you said last time, little fish. And the time before that," She drew closer as you tried to run around the rock again; those eyes, solidly blue and vibrant-- how could something be so bright in such a lightless cave?

 "When are you going to accept your fate? I dont mind an easy meal." She grabbed your hand with a snarl, stopping you from swimming away. "What other choice do you have than to give in, It's not like you're going to escape any time soon." 

Despite how much you resented the siren, she was right. You had gotten yourself stuck in this situation-- night swimming at the beach, ALONE-- and now had no way of leaving or calling for help. And it was clear that Alette wasnt going to provide any assistance away from this forsaken air pocketed cave, unless it consisted of eating you. 

"That doesn't mean I'm just going to let you kill me!" 

"We play this little game over and over again just to let you keep some dignity. Face it-- stop struggling and let me take a bite." 

She opened her mouth, aiming for your throat. 

"No!" You shouted, shoving her pointed, scaled shoulders as you push away from the rock. Alette grunted animalistically through her pearly teeth, diving underwater. You were grateful for your mildly decent swimming skills-- or, the adrenaline that made you move ten times faster. But it still wasn't enough to outswim the creature.

You heard a rough splash before sensing her grip. The siren slammed you against a nearby cave wall, her claws digging into your shoulders as your head pressed against the jagged rock. 

The wind was immediately knocked out of you, your labored breathing not phasing Alette. 

The siren drew closer, her mouth gaping open towards your neck as her claws dug into the wool covering your shoulders. Up close, you could see her less than human features more prominently. Her slit eyes so devious, with thinned eyebrows and a sickly pale complexion. Her mouth naturally curved into a sly, widely unnatural smile, ready and satisfied to eat you. The gills on her neck and the fins replacing her ears faded from ghostly white skin to a dark blue-ish black, like frostbite; the rubbery flesh was wet from all her swimming. She dripped onto you, murky water running from her long, dark hair onto your chest. You had noticed that her upper half was nude, but now it was incredibly visible as her exposed chest pinned against yours. Her sternum seemed to dig into your flesh; tough, sleek skin meant for bumping against hard cave walls or rough sands pressed coldly onto your shivering body. 

"You know, I really do like to play with my food. Trying to see you measly little creatures defy your natural born predator is part of the fun of eating you." Her eye twitched in irk as you tried to push her off again. "But I'm tired of this game. So, I think it's time we end this." 

You turned away with a grimace and tried to squeeze your legs together. Her large, slimy tail was pushed between you as it flickered to stay swimming; the softness of the fins lining her tail were oddly ticklish, making you even more nervous at its foreign touch. 

"Wah-wait!" You shout, trying to open one of your salty, mortified eyes. "What if, I can offer you something else...?" You bite the inside of your lip, hoping she'll listen before deciding to devour you; you could see how thin her patience had become. "In return, you could take me to the surface." 

"In return, I could put off eating you." 

"That works too," you look her up and down, gulping and hardly believing what you're about to say. 

"What can you offer me that's better than eating you?” She asked half heartedly, chuckling at the idea. 

You swallow roughly and, hesitantly, fall limp. Alette raised her eyebrows, surprised at seeing you go slack, an act you hadn't done since she first drug your exhausted, scared figure in the cave. 

Your arms came up against her shoulders as she held yours. She inspected your incoming fingers, curious-- yet not stopping you. You gently slithered upward, leaning against her and pulling her closer by scaled shoulders. 

Your face was only inches away, your gaze on her as she looked at you with suspicious eyes. 

"It may not be much, but it's all I can offer..." you mumble, looking down at yourself and feeling for the soaked waves of hair touching her shoulders.

Before she could pull you away or you could come to your senses, you lean upwards. Your lips come into contact with hers, gently pressing against her hard, damp face. 

You felt the prick of her teeth as her lips parted, staying statuesquely still. 

You let go of her mouth quickly, returning back to the comfort of the wall as she stared at you, neon eyes burning into you. 

She looked oddly surprised for a moment, taken aback by your forwardness; a look you had never seen her wear. It didn’t last long, her smug expression coming back as quick as lightning. 

"So, your body? Are you sure this is a better trade?" She leered over you, letting go of your sweater to trap you between her hands. They hung above you, pressing against the cave wall as you struggled to stay afloat. "I'm quite vicious you know. Being my companion, or even a mere plaything is no easy feat. I personally think you’d be better off in my stomach." 

You shivered at hearing that, sinking into the water the closer she got. Gulping, you stayed silent. 

"Hmm, No reply?" She drew closer, her face as near as it once was moments ago. "Like I said, I like it more when my food cooperates. I want to hear it from your lips." 

She stroked the side of your face with her nail, running it down your cheek with enough pressure to make you feel how sharp it was. How sharp it could be. 

"I want to hear you ask me for what you want." 

You brought your hands to your chest, Alette twisting her head to look at you more deeply. She was much longer than you, her tail making her both thicker and stronger. Her arms were caged around you, drawing closer the more you sunk into yourself. 

--Absolutely not-- you began to protest in your head. But she grinned so perfectly, so hungrily with a tongue running over each toothly blade; what choice did you have? Did your pride really matter, if you were only dismembered parts left in the sea otherwise?

"I want you to..." 

"Yes?" 

She was growing impatient again. 

"I want you to, to have my body..." 

"And?" 

"And use it...however you'd like...In exchange for my life-- don’t forget that." 

Your face twists in shame at the words coming out of your mouth, immediately feeling a deep, gut sense of humiliation. But you were slightly grateful for this chance to say such embarassing words; If she were a lustless creature, this less horrific fate, may not be possible.  

Alette had the ability to eat you whole, to lure you into the depths of the water and consume you. She didnt need your permission to do anything. The only reason you've survived this long is how much she enjoys the chase of her prey, of getting them to the lowest point of exhaustion to where they beg her to kill them, to put them out of their misery. 

"Why, how forward of you!" She feigned shock. 

The half-human smirked, putting both hands on your waist and pulling it forward.

 "But alright.. if you insist." 

Her mouth aimed straight for yours. The siren held out her tongue, mingling it with your own as her teeth nipped and bit. You groaned in her mouth as she bit your tongue, lapping up the blood with her own. She held her eyes open, boring holes into your  squinted ones in a devious, hazy manner. You knew she could see the pain and weakness in your face. The siren shoved you against the wall again, this time with one hand on your chest and the other in your scalp. Her hand gripped your hair, digging nails into your skull as she pressed herself against you. 

Her sharp fangs dug into your lips over and over, creating pierced marks and falling blood droplets as she desecrated your mouth. Your chest heaved, the pain and lack of oxygen from her kisses making your head spin. 

The scales on her hands glittered against the reflection of the water; it was clear she had never attempted this before, being as ravenous and sloppy as an inexperienced teenage boy. And yet, you felt relief in only trying to avoid her teeth, letting the warmth of her mouth make its way into your cold, salty one. 

"Are you still sure this is a better option than being eaten?" She huffed in your ear, grabbing your sweater to lift up at her leisure. "It only gets worse from here. A siren’s pleasures may be… more demanding than what a human is used to." 

You absentmindedly nodded, looking at her with glazed over and droopy eyes. You could handle it, if it meant seeing the sun, seeing your shitty roommates again someday. As long as you didn’t suffer the agonizing wrath of a monster’s claws and teeth. 

Alette laughed, shriekingly beautiful and odd coming from that wide, murderous mouth. A hand trickles up your stomach, tapping what feels like needles against each rib. 

"Well, don't blame me for what happens then."

The siren pulled away to take your wrist to her mouth, her jaw widening as she leans in to bite. You would have jerked away if it weren't the new iron tight hold on your throat, slamming you mercilessly against the wall of the cave. You grabbed the arm leading to your neck with your free hand; the siren’s daggered teeth sank into your skin, its unbrokeness almost inviting her to have a taste. To Alette, it looked so right. 

Your flesh pooled around her mouth, so smooth and vulnerable. Beads of blood fell into the water below, Alette unable to lap them all up as she deepened her bite. You cried out, tears forming on the corners of your eyes as you moaned in pain. They hypnotizing creature shoved you harder against the cave the louder you got, making you choke on your cries, her bite now unbearably stinging. 

But what was once a fiery wound, turned into a pulsating agony the moment she unsunk her teeth. Blood spilled from your arm, Alette’s mouth messy with her serpent tongue covered in red. You looked down at your arm with a cringe. The blood pooled down to your fingertips, making a red swarm in the murky water the rest of your body was submerged in. You screamed behind gritted teeth, cradling your arm as it continued to leak onto your clothes. 

"I thought.. you said you wouldn’t," You hiccuped over your words as Alette looked unimpressed, but oddly sympathetic. 

You were just so simple, somehow more gullible compared to the other simpletons she's eaten. Astray sailors, cruise honeymooners, and idiots who stole their dad’s boats; they were all the same. They begged and pleaded for their lives, too stubborn to give in to death. No matter how many she ripped from the surface to put in this feeding ground, none of them seemed to give in as fast as you had. She always liked them simple; submissive. But who knew today would be the day she finally found a trainable companion.

"I'm not going to eat you," she said sternly. "This is a warning. Look," 

Alette twisted your arm, showing you the indents that her teeth left in your flesh. Deep gashes, ones that would leave clean, punctured scars.

"It’s a symbol of possession. It isn’t easily conflicted with a shark or a fish’s bite; if anyone dares come in here, they’ll know you’re already claimed as livestock." Alette bent down to lick the remaining blood that still gushed from your open bite marks. 

That thought might’ve been more terrifying than death; how many like her were out there, feeding on others like this? Were there those who were… worse? You were lightheaded from the thought, the idea that something with even less mercy might ignore this “claim” and go right for your throat like she had. Or, maybe that was the loss of blood decorating Alette’s face.

By the time she finished cleaning your arm, there were only raw bite marks left. Your tears had dried, but the dulling pain was still tingling, sharp pulses making you groan. 

Perhaps, this wasn’t better than being eaten. But it was clear that Alette’s mind was made up-- atleast, for now. Who knew when her hunger urges and natural instincts would get the better of her, causing you to lose an arm or a leg. 

"How about we see how much your feeble body can take, hm? I've observed some new rituals you humans partake in." 

Before you could respond, Alette was already thumbing your wet pants, nipping teasingly rough at your neck. You tried to grip her arm, but the siren had other ideas. Grabbing your legs, she wrapped your thighs around her scaled waist, lifting your body gently to kiss you. Her nails dug into the space above your elbows with ravenous lips coming to make a messy attempt at kissing your mouth. The slimy kiss had a wet exit, her tongue peeking from your mouth to come graze up your salty cheek in a sultry taste.

"Savory, sweet little human."

[fatherforgivemeforihavesinned]

tummy 😵‍💫

[skiiyoomin]

Hey I just saw that your requests are open and the haikyuu brainrot is hitting me once more. Could I request some content energetic bbs Noya, Bokuto, and Hinata (separate) and the reader taking care of them when all that energy finally runs out and they crash? I'm in desperate need of fluff lmao

ღTaking care of them when they run out of energy

ʚContent: gn! reader, fluff

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a/n yes ma´am 🫡 some fluffy energetic bbys brainrot coming right up. am i procrastinating my exams to do this? yes, yes i am

Nishinoya Yuu

Noya is like a literal babyyy. He loves loves lovesss when you pamper him and baby him. Especially during those moments where all he needs is a little silence and your comfort cause he doesn´t have one single ounce of energy left. He loves crashing down on the sofa, his head on your lap and your fingers through his ginger hair.

"Long day?"

Your soft honey like voice drifts to his ears, and all he can manage to respond is a small low hum.

He feels like he absolutely won in life when you not only move away to prepare a warm bath for him, but you also slip inside the tub behind him and wrap your arms around his torso. He melts like puddy when your soft hands begin to massage his scalp while you make sure the shampoo reaches his roots, and in his mind, he questions if that was what heaven felt like.

You had to coax him into getting out of the tub after a long while passed, your skin pruned and the bath no longer as warm. Though honestly, Noya could´ve stayed like that forever, however, the image of you cuddled up under the safety and warmth of the bedsheets sounded far more tempting. So, with groggy movements, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist.

He may be small, but he was not light, and in his dazed like state, he didn´t seem to remember as he all but plops down right on top of you. Were it any other day, you would´ve shoved him off, but the way his eyelids fluttered close and his lips seemed to be in a permanent pout were too cute. So, adjusting your position so you could at least breathe, you run your hand up and down his back, your other playing with his soft locks. And just like that, he was out like a light.

Bokuto Koutarou

You knew the second you started dating Bokuto, that you´d be in for a rollercoaster of emotions. You had become accostumed to his wide range of emtions that seemed to appear at the most sudden times. Nevertheless, there were days where his energy seemed to be on a constant low. He moved in slow sluggish motions and not a single thought seemed to pass through his mind.

You found out that one of his favorite things that you do at times like this is giving him a looong massage. His body would be flopped face down on the comfort of your bed while you oiled up his bare back. He´d expressed to you many times that he was convinced your hands were made by the very gods, because when they slowly massaged the tense muscled of his back, he felt like he was on cloud 9.

You´d make your way up until you reached his broad shoulders and neck. Small muffled groans would be heard from him every once in a while, but he´d mostly remain uncharacteristically quiet.

If he didn´t pass out from your massage, because trust me, he has passed out many times before, then you´d watch a random movie while he nuzzled into your warm body. His soft breaths tickled the sensitive skin of your neck and his buff arms wrapped around your body, like a bear engulfing you in a hug.

Every once in a while you´d press your soft lips to his forehead, or you´d run your fingers through his bicolored strands. And I can assure you that with a couple more sweet kisses, he´d be out like a light, his soft snores filling the silence of the room.

"I love you"

You whisper, pressing one last kiss to the crown of his head before you too, fall into deep slumber with your big baby in your arms.

Hinata Shoyo

If there´s one thing Shoyo loves more than anything in this world, it´s your cooking. And there´s nothing like your homemade food on a day where he can´t give his fullest.

He had spent the entire day jumping around, his energy at it´s peak. But the more it had dragged on the more he wished he could speed off back home and rest in your loving arms.

He was sprawled across the couch, his tired half lidded eyes boring into whatever was playing on the TV, he couldn´t even process anything. He feels the couch dip beside him, and when he turns his head, he finds you with a bowl of your homemade ramen in your hands. The steam wafted into the air and to his nostrils. He could already taste it in his toungue, making his stomach rumble.

However, he´s slightly surprised when you move the bowl away when he tries to reach out for it.

"Let me take care of you"

Is all you mutter. That´s how he finds himself curled up on the couch while you feed him the ramen, making sure to blow on the food each time you picked up a portion of it.

His heart fluttered when you pampered him this way. Or when you put away the bowl after he eats it all up and when you pepper slow kisses around his entire face. They werent rushed or overwhelming like they normally were. No, these were precise, like you were deliberately making sure to kiss every inch of his skin.

During these times, he absolutely needs to be the little spoon. He likes the feeling of being taken care of. The way your arms would wrap around his torso, your warm breath tickling the nape of his neck and making his spine shudder ever so slightly.

It´s in these moments where, as he´s drifting off to sleep with, he really feels an overwhelming sense of love and adoration for you