#bird supplies online | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

salemrph · 11 days ago

Text

The Taste of Romance (Valentine’s Day)

Summary: What was meant to be a quiet Valentine’s Day with Sylus, making chocolate together, takes a turn when a mission interrupts: chasing down Heartbreaker.

Character: Sylus & Reader

Genre: romantic, fluffy, slightly action

Word count: 5,572 | Reading Time: 22 min | AO3

A/N: After today's banner, I just had to release this, because it's pretty much what I was expecting, something like this: A cute mission hunting Heartbreaker, with a super romantic outcome. Making chocolate and decorating a cake. And kisses, lots of them.

{Pop Candy Song BGM}

You spent the last day searching for a good recipe online, strolling through pastries and sweets shops in Linkon. On the kitty cat calendar display on the wall of your kitchen, February 14th is marked with a little heart in red. Well, it is actually tomorrow. This is your third attempt making chocolates this week. You have everything you need: a box, sugar pens and flowers, gift wrap, strawberry and tons of other decorations stuff. Your idea is to create a special box, for a special gentleman that stole your heart, soul and body.

Somehow you keep messing up with portions, you follow the instructions step by step, but always something goes wrong. The milk is too hot, too much sugar… you feel a bit like Xavier trying to not burn down your place. The other attendants were interrupted by an urgent mission, or you managed to drop the bowl or put in salt instead of sugar.

The caw of Mephisto, sitting on the microwave, is a signal to stir the mixture. The bird can be useful even during moments like this. Mephisto seems even happy to help you out. Is strange how well you get along with him. Sometimes he gets on your nerves, especially when he steals all the shiny items you have. But you like him, and it's just as fun as fighting with Luke and Kieran.This little crow family you've joined, despite their “evil” aura, are all good people. And no one can convince you otherwise. Come to thinking of it, maybe you should make choco popcake for the twins. Giving chocolate to the mechanical crow… You stare at Mephisto, who cocks his head in response to your piercing gaze. No… You shake your head. Not a good idea.

The kitchen smelled of rich, melted chocolate, the warmth of it mixing with the familiar comfort of home. You had been carefully stirring the glossy mixture, completely absorbed in your task, when—

"What are you doing, sweetie?"

The deep sexy voice of your boyfriend makes you hitch. If you were a real cat you would have jumped, fur bristling and tail puffed in alarm. Surely hiding yourself on top of the kitchen cabinet. Although your Hunter senses are exceptional, being at home you usually lower your guard. Your heart jumps and you almost drop the bowl, again…

"I told you to stay out of the kitchen" you huffed, turning to glare at Sylus.

He leaned lazily against the counter, arms crossed, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah, but I didn’t agree to that. Besides, where should I hide in this small apartment?"

“Why are you here in the first place? I told you I was busy” you hide the bowl behind your back. Actually the kitchen is a mess, opened packages of chocolates scattered across the counter, the strawberries you had bought are still in their cold water bath. You’re a good cook, decent at baking, but working with chocolate? That is another topic. For the occasion, when you were buying all your supplies for this mission, you bought yourself a very cute apron. Which you are wearing right now to prevent staining your outfit. Underneath it, you wear comfy shorts and a white t-shirt.

“A certain kitten ignored me all week, so I decided to drop by and spend some time with her.” His lips curve into a slow smirk. “But somehow, I ended up banned from the kitchen, and Mephisto got demoted to a kitchen clock.” His voice drips with mock offense, but the way he watches you, eyes sweeping over your domestic outfit examining you slowly from top to bottom… Tells you he’s more entertained than anything, the amusement literally dancing in his eyes.

The small apron snug around your waist and chest, the loose strands of hair slipping free from your high ponytail, the way your oversized t-shirt shifts when you fidget under his stare. You’re a mess. Flustered and completely unaware of just how lovely you look. Sylus smiles, noticing that you’re definitely not wearing a bra. It might just be his lucky day.

He exhales a quiet chuckle, stepping closer. His gaze moves to the bowl behind your back, curiosity flashing behind the red glowing eyes.

"So… what exactly are you doing?”

You meet his gaze with a sly smile, tilting your head just slightly. "I’m preparing poison."

His smirk deepened. "Poison? Sweetie, if you wanted to kill me, there are easier ways."

Before you could react, he stepped in, closing the distance in a way that made your pulse stutter. His body caged you against the counter, warmth radiating off him. His attention goes down to the spoon still in your hand, his fingers grazing your wrist as he tilted his head in amusement.

"What kind of poison will it be?" he murmured, voice low and teasing.

Your breath hitched, you felt a little nervous again but you held your ground. "The kind you can’t separate from normal food."

Sylus hummed. In a swift motion, he plucked the spoon from your grasp, bringing it to his lips without breaking eye contact. His tongue flicked against the chocolate before he tasted it, a low, satisfied hum vibrating in his throat.

"Hmm… dangerous" he mused, licking the remnants from the spoon. Your stomach flipped, heat rising to your cheeks as his free hand settled on your waist. "Should I be worried, sweetie?" he teased, his lips dangerously close to yours, chocolate lingering on his breath.

“Always" you whispered, barely able to focus with the way he was looking at you. Sylus laughed softly, his fingers tightening slightly on your waist as he leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against yours—just enough to make you chase the touch.

He lifts you onto the counter, his smirk never fading as he leans in, his lips still hovering, teasing you. Just as you think he'll kiss you, he pulls back, holding up the spoon coated with the last traces of chocolate.

“Lick” he ordered softly. You hesitate, eyes flickering between the spoon and his glowing red eyes. “For poison, it tastes good” he jokes.

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly drag your tongue along the spoon, savoring the rest of the dark mixture. Sylus inhales sharply, his pupils darkening as his grip on your thigh tight. His cock getting harder by the second. You can feel the shift in the air, the tension between you two raising. When you finish, he titles his head slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Messy kitten” he says low, brushing his thumb along the corner of your mouth spotted with sweetness.

Before he can lean in again—

Bip bip bip!!! Your hunter watch shatters the moment. Your groan as your head falls back. You've got to be kidding me. You click your tongue in irritation. Sylus exhales sharply, his fingers flexing against your thigh before he pulls away entirely. The warmth of his body vanishes, replaced by the cold reality of duty. He leans back against the counter, crossing his arms, you can tell he's annoyed as much as you are.

Between his businesses and your jobs, having this moment is almost rare. You managed to video call, send each other messages and you try as much as possible to be with him. Now for Valentine's Day you requested two free days, so you could finish the box with strawberries and chocolate.

You shoot him a glare before tapping the watch, the holographic interface lighting up with an incoming mission briefing. Your free day is gone. Just like that. You sigh, already slipping off the counter.

Priority Alert: Hunter (Y/N) Required. Immediate Deployment. Target—Wanderer: Heartbreaker.

You scroll through the report, brows furrowing. "It’s… been messing with couples. Destroying their date spots, ruining chocolate shipments, even sabotaging proposals." You pause. "Wow. It's really committed.”

Sylus lets out a dry chuckle. "So, you're going to hunt a depressed little menace who hates love?”

"I hope it's not as slippery as Pumpkin Magnus. This is serious.”

Running after that Wanderer near to New Year was exhausting. At least you had fun during the event. The lantern you made together is still hanging at his base.

“Because nothing screams ‘deadly mission’ like chasing that thing before it cancels Valentine’s Day.”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the small laugh that slips out. "Come on, we need to move.”

you prompt as you start grabbing your gear, moving to your bedroom to change into your uniform. Sylus seems to be a bit out of track.

“We?" He raises an eyebrow. He follows you, not wanting to miss how you change. "I don’t remember signing up for this mission." He's distracted when you reveal your body, pulling your T-shirt over your head. He knew it, no bra today. His dick is still half hard. Sylus wanted so badly to have you that evening. Making you whimper his name, seeing you getting all sweaty and naughty. Kissing your belly, worshiping you in all senses. His plans were crushed in a moment. You glance at him over your shoulder, half naked grabbing your uniform from the chair.

"Please. You always end up involved in my missions one way or another.” You move quickly.

He leans against the doorframe, watching you with open amusement. "That’s different. Also I was busy with something else before someone’s annoying watch ruined the evening.”

You huff. "Well, if you're not coming, I’ll just—”

"Did I say I wasn’t coming?" His voice is smooth, teasing.

If he can't have fun with your body then at least he would accompany you through this little adventure. Spending time with you is always fun and it doesn't really matter what you two are doing.

Later in the city

“This the last spot where Heartbreaker was seen” you close the file on your watch. The park is quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the winter sun. The lake stretches out before you, its surface rippling slightly under the breeze, reflecting the bright light of the evening. A few boats remain docked, swaying gently, their chains clinking against the wooden posts. Mephisto is scanning the area, flying over the park.

“The last couple attacked was right here. Their boat capsized, and they both ended up breaking up on the spot.”

Tracking Heartbreaker could be complicated. You look around to find some evidence of why, where and how it attacks the couples. You walk around with Sylus next to you. The scanner of your watch give you an update:

“No abnormal energy spikes detected. Traces of Wanderer activity linger near the dock.”

You nod, stepping closer to the water’s edge. “It doesn’t just pick any couple… don’t you think?”

Sylus smirks, his gaze flicks to the lake. "So, what’s the plan? Rent a boat, act all lovey-dovey, and lure the thing out?"

You let out a small sigh, tapping your fingers against your arm. “Probably it will work, but it doesn't mean it will appear right here. Which means it could take some time to find it…” You pause, then turn to face him, tilting your head slightly. “Sylus… can you be even romantic?”

“I feel offended, kitten. Wasn't my affection not clear enough.”

You snort, shifting your weight onto one leg. “Let me think, you've taken me on several “date-missions”, using me as an armory, shield and bodyguard. And let’s not forget, you introduced me as just a friend during the museum event.”

“That's what it's all about.” Sylus lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Then, why don’t you teach me what it means to be romantic…”

“Do you want to take on this challenge?”

“You're always so competitive, sweetie. Why not?”

“Then less see who can make first appear Heartbreaker”

As the evening stretches on, the two of you move through different spots known for romantic outings. First, a charming café where couples linger over half-finished desserts and whispered conversations. You glance at the menu and realize everything is designed for two: shared platters, couple-themed drinks, even desserts that come in matching sets. You realice most of the people are wearing matching outfits. You wonder if going around in the same outfits would be something you would do with him. Buying everything in a double set. Wearing the same pajamas, drinking from identical mugs, layering yourselves in matching sweaters… You have been wearing matching bracelets since the mission with the gem. Your fingers brush over it absentmindedly as you stir your drink, lost in thought. The dessert you ordered a while ago lay in front of you untouched. Sylus leans forward in his chair, smirking at your focused expression.

“What’s on your mind, sweetie?” you're still lost in thought, your mind drifting over ways to be more romantic with him, until he suddenly holds up a spoonful of dessert in front of your nose. “Open” He orders you, you grimace at his sudden assertiveness but obey, letting him feed you.

That’s 10 points for Sylus, feeding you is a way to be romantic.

Next stop is a flower garden, where lovers stroll between glowing lanterns and fragrant blossoms. Sylus plucks a small pink flower off a tree, twirling it between his fingers before tucking it behind your ear with a teasing grin. "That’s romantic enough for you, sweetie?" he murmurs slightly amusted. You roll your eyes but don't take off the flower.

“You can do better…” as you turn around to look around, which flower would match him the best? A red one catches your eyes, small and with delicate petals. You pull out several and turn back to him. "Bend down". You place one in his hair and another behind his ear. Sylus looks at you intensely, the warm light of the garden softening his features. You feel your heart begin to race. The beauty that this man radiates is out of this world, every time you remember this fact you don't understand how no one appreciates what you are seeing.

Just like at the New Year's market, the lady at the doll stand referred to Sylus as a tiger, someone fierce and intimidating. And although he certainly usually has that look, and he teases you about taming him, he has a soft spot. You see that every time you reflect yourself in his eyes. That’s truly something that makes you happy.

Sylus gently grabs your hand, kissing the knuckles of your fingers. Bowing to his beloved lady. “Only you can touch me like this…” the intensity of the moment makes you blush.

By nightfall, you find yourselves at the promenade, the city lights shimmering on the river’s surface. Couples are everywhere, walking hand in hand, nestled on benches, whispering to each other under the soft glow of street lamps. Sylus and you take a seat on an empty bench, the cool night air carrying the sound of laughter and distant music.

You lean back, exhaling. "Well, this is the third couple’s spot on the list, and still no sign of Heartbreaker."

Sylus stretches, his arm casually draping over the back of the bench almost around you. "Maybe, it's scared of us. Or maybe…" he tilts his head, watching the couples nearby, "...it only appears when there’s actual romance in the air."

You glance at him "Are you saying we’re not romantic enough?"

He smirks, leaning in just a little. "You tell me, kitten. Has there been a moment that made your heart race?"

“Not yet” you lie and he notices it. Is written all over your face. “And you, have I made your hearts race?”

“No…” He points out nonchalantly. You feel offended and disappointed. Your lips press into a thin line, and you scoff, looking away.

Sylus chuckles, the sound low and amused. "Oh? Are you disappointed?"

"Obviously" you huff, refusing to meet his gaze.

He shifts closer, trapping you on the bench. His smell invades you, you want to lie on his chest and let him caress your back while he reads you a poem. His voice dropped to a whisper "You shouldn’t be." Before you can ask what he means, he takes your hand, guiding it to his chest. Beneath your palm, his heartbeat is steady but strong. Your fingers twitch slightly.

"You make it race all the time," he confesses. "I just like seeing you try harder."

Even though he says it with his usual confidence, a slight pink color spreads across his cheeks. He says something like that, and now he’s blushing? That’s not fair. You stay in that position, refusing to move, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palm. For you, the world slows down, all of it fades into the background.

Your gaze drifts upward, from his chest to his throat, lingering for a second before finally settling on his lips. They’re slightly parted, you miss the feeling of them. How they move in sync with yours. The longing to feel his naked skin on yours, his hands being a delicate weapon with which he tortures you until you fall between sighs and moans. It ignites the deepest desire of your heart. You don’t know if it’s your imagination or if he’s leaning in ever so slightly, but your heart is pounding loud enough that he must hear it.

"Kitten" he whispers. A question. A challenge. An Invitation.

Then a sudden chill cuts through the warm night, the hairs on your arms rising as the atmosphere shifts. You tense, instincts kicking in, fingers moving quickly toward your weapon. The shadows near the water seem to distort, the faint outline of something lurking just beyond normal sight.

“There” you murmur. Your watch confirms your gut feeling: metaflux energy detected.

Sylus follows your gaze, a slow grin spreading across his lips as excitement flickers in his eyes. He rolls his shoulders, readying himself.

“Time to break a Heartbreaker.”

You react first, drawing your weapon in a fluid motion, instincts honed from countless battles. “Sylus, left flank!” You call out, already moving, running after the Heartbreaker. Sylus doesn’t hesitate. He dashes to the side, his speed a blur as he circles around to cut off any escape.

“I see it” he growls.

—

At the end of the day, you spent the complete day hunting Heartbreaker, to just let him escape at the last moment. Well, you managed to recover the love letter they stole from the post office. You were exhausted, your muscles ached from the chase, the weight of exhaustion settling deep. This isn't how you wanted to spend a day with Sylus. You wanted to finish what you had started in the kitchen, to lose yourself in the heat of his lips, his hands, the way he makes your world tilt whenever he pulls you close. The initial mission of creating chocolate failed.

The cool night air brushes against your skin as you walk back where Sylus left his bike that same afternoon. Luckily you didn't have to go to HQ to make the report and you can send everything another day. Is already midnight.

“Are you up for a joy ride?” Sylus hands you over your helmet. You can’t deny the way your heart beats at the sight of him. Leaning against his bike, smirking like he hadn’t just spent the whole day hunting down an annoyingly elusive Wanderer.

You’re brushing some remaining dust from your sleeve. “Where do you wanna take me?”

Sylus tilts his head that familiar glint of mischief returns to his gaze. “Guess” You sigh, finally slipping the helmet on.

“Fine. But if this is another mission, I swear—” Right now, you just wanted to be with him, without missions, without distractions, without anything getting in the way.

"Relax, kitten. No more running around tonight." He swings a leg over the bike, patting the seat behind him. “Just you and me.” You bite your lip, the familiar rush of warmth spreading through your chest. Maybe today hadn’t gone as planned, but with Sylus, it never really mattered. As long as he was beside you, it was enough.

You climb onto the bike behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He hums in approval, his hand covering yours for just a second before gripping the handlebar.

“Hold on tight.” As the engine roars to life and the city lights blur around you, you press yourself closer against him, letting the night swallow the rest of the world. Sylus increases speed, making you scream in surprise. Instead of telling him to behave in the city, you laugh and hold on tighter to his body. The speed, the wind and the heat he emits make you forget your disappointment of not having caught Heartbreaker.

{At Twilight BGM}

After a while, Sylus parks the bike smoothly in front of your place, the engine’s low hum fading into the quiet of the night. But he doesn’t move. You frown slightly, shifting against him, your arms still loosely wrapped around his waist.

“Why are we here?” you ask, tilting your head. “I thought you would take me to your base”

He finally exhales a quiet chuckle, tilting his head back just enough for his voice to carry over the roar of your heartbeat. “Do you miss the N109 Zone?”

You wait for an explanation, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he lifts a hand, dragging his fingers over the back of your hand, a slow movement that sends a shiver up your spine. His touch is always so warm against your skin.

“Then… Why?” Sylus finally turns slightly, his glowing red eyes catching yours through the visor of your helmet.

“Because you live here…” he murmurs a bit amused “And because I figured you’d want to finish what you started.”

You blink. “Finish what—?”

Then it clicks. The chocolate. Your eyes widen slightly, your mind flashing back to your kitchen, to the mess you left behind, to the small box of chocolates you had managed to salvage amidst the chaos. You had nearly forgotten. Nearly.

Sylus watches as realization dawns on you, his smirk deepening. “You didn’t think I’d let you off the hook that easily, did you?”

You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. “I swear, you have the worst priorities.”

Sylus finally turns off the bike and swings a leg over, his movements smooth as ever. He faces you, leaning in just slightly. “Come on, kitten. You worked so hard on them.” His voice dips lower, teasing. “And besides…” His fingers ghost under your chin, tilting your face up ever so slightly. “You still owe me for all those interruptions.”

Your breath catches, heat creeping up your neck.

“Okay, okay.” You step off the bike, brushing past him with a smirk of your own. “But if they taste bad, you have to pretend you like it.”

Sylus chuckles. “Sweetie, if it’s made by you…” He leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “I’ll devour every last bite.” Your face starts to burn, is he still talking about the chocolate?

You push the door open, stepping inside with Sylus close behind you. You get rid of your weapons at the entrance, placing your belt in its usual place, then you take off your shoes. The familiar scent of chocolate is still faintly in the air, mixed with the comforting warmth of your home. Your eyes immediately move to the kitchen counter, where the bowl of half-made chocolate still sits, abandoned in the rush of the mission.

“So much for finishing what I started” you murmur, rubbing your temple. Sylus hums behind you, moving into the kitchen with easy, unhurried steps.

“Guess you’ll have to make it up to me.”

You give him a dry look. “Oh? And what exactly do you suggest?”

He smirks. “We finish them now.”

Your brows lift. “It’s late.”

Sylus shrugs. “And? Isn't it Valentine's Day already?” He points to the clock in the living room. True, it's past one in the morning. You hesitate, glancing at bowl. It’s cooled but still workable. The strawberries you left soaking in cold water remain untouched. You sigh, rolling up your sleeves.

“Well, would you like to help me then?”

His smirk widens. “I thought you’d never ask.”

You smile, pointing to the strawberries. “Dry them off and bring them here.” Sylus makes a show of complying, grabbing a towel and drying each berry gently off. You already know he’s skilled in the kitchen, especially with those delicious cupcakes he made before. It’s fun having him here, helping out. It feels real, everything, you’re feeling, your connection, your relationship.

You pick up a strawberry and dip it carefully into the warm chocolate you have already heated up, twisting it slightly before placing it on parchment paper. Sylus follows your movements, but when he dips his strawberry, he makes a mess; chocolate coating nearly his whole fingers.

You snort. “Wow. Truly an expert.”

Before you can react, he lifts his fingers to his lips, licking the excess chocolate off slowly. The way his tongue drags over his skin, the way his eyes hold yours the entire time. He did it on purpose. You look away. Heat rushes to your face. You glance down at your own fingers, chocolate smeared across your skin from your earlier work. Before you can wipe it away, Sylus catches your wrist, holding it up between you. His gaze darkens slightly, that playful smirk softening.

“Let me….”

He didn’t give you the time to protest before his lips brush against your fingertips, his tongue flicking out to catch the chocolate. Your breath hitches, a rush of heat shoots through your body. He’s not in a hurry. He takes his time, licking the chocolate off each finger with a sinful kind of precision.

“Sylus—” Your voice catches.

His eyes meet yours. He likes to make you blush, to make you lose your composure. He loves every single one of those expressions you make and he never gets tired of seeing you that way. “Hmm?”

You swallow, pulse hammering in your throat. “…Nothing.” His lips curl at the edges. Satisfied.

And suddenly, Valentine’s Day doesn’t seem so ruined after all. Without a word, he moves, stepping closer until you're pressed against the cool edge of the counter. He lifts you easily, your feet leaving the floor as he sets you down, your body flush against his.

“Where were we before?” You open your mouth to respond, but he silences you with a smirk, his fingers brushing against the strap of your hunter watch. You freeze. With a swift motion, he rips it off your wrist, tossing it into a nearby drawer without a second thought.

“Don't need this right now” he mutters, eyes back on you as if the watch had never mattered in the first place.

Your heart races. “Wait—”

But the words die in your throat as his lips descend to the curve of your neck, trailing soft, teasing kisses along the sensitive skin there. The heat of his touch sends a shiver through you, and your hands instinctively grip the edge of the counter, as if it can steady you against the flood of desire rushing through your veins. His thumb traces the line of your jaw slowly, savoring the moment. You swallow, the taste of his proximity is intoxicating. Sylus pulls back slightly, his face inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours as his gaze flickers to your lips.

“What else can we cover with chocolate, kitten?”

You watch down on the bowl, if he is having fun then so do you. You dip your finger once more in the mixture and cup his face with your other hand, securing his position. Sylus just smiles. With the chocolate slightly dripping down, you painted a heart on his face. You always wanted to do this, but you haven't had the opportunity until now. You lean in, your lips brushing over his skin. Then with open mouth kisses you eat up the chocolate. Licking bit by bit the sweetness. Sylus breath hitch. His hands press on your thigh, restrained, as if waiting to see what you’ll do next. You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze.

“Take your shirt off” you say softly.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. “Bossy.” But he doesn’t hesitate. His fingers move to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one with a painfully slowness, as if daring you to lose patience. The fabric parts, revealing the hard lines of his chest.

You dip your fingers into the chocolate again, your touch featherlight as you trace a path down the center of his chest, stopping just above his heart. Sylus exhales sharply, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. A teasing smile playing on your lips.

"Are you trying to make art?" His voice is a low rumble. You grin, dipping your finger back into the bowl.

"Maybe. Stay still."

He growls softly, like a domesticated wild cat, when you drag the chocolate-covered fingertip over his collarbone, tracing down his ribs in lazy patterns. In the middle of this action, you get a better idea, and you start writing on his chest. A little crooked, but clearly. Something that always comes to your mind every time you see him. Every time he kisses you, every time you melt into a long hug, when you sleep next to him or he just says your name. Then, suddenly, he catches your wrist, his grip gentle yet firm. His eyes soften as he reads the words scrawled across his chest. His smile is small, but undeniably warm.

"Kitten..." he murmurs, pressing a slow kiss onto your lips. "That's something I should be saying.”

“Did you think our competition was over?”

His hand sliding to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer. “Is this how…” He presses another kiss onto your lips, his voice low as he whispers against you, “...you’re going to teach me romanticism?” He moves his lips to your cheek, planting a soft kiss there as well. “I’m more than happy to be your student.”

You try to pinch him, but Sylus is quicker, capturing your other hand as well. "Oh, now you want to punish me…"

You smile, a glint of mischief in your eyes. "Then be a good boy." For a moment he considers not doing what you say, but that "good boy" has made him very horny.

Sylus leans in, his body pressing between your legs. You sink your free hand into his tousled grey hair, pulling him toward you as your lips brush together. The way his breath mingles with yours is both comforting and intoxicating. The trust and complicity that you share with him is unique. The longer you're in this intimate position, the faster your pulse quickens, and you swear it's synchronizing with the beat of your lover.

Sylus moves with an urgency that surprises you for a moment, his lips finding yours again, more demanding this time. His lips trail down your jaw, his touch becoming more insistent, more heated. You tilt your head, gasping softly as you feel the desire in his touch.

"Tell me," he whispers between kisses, "What do you want, kitten?" His hand slides up to your cheek, his thumb gently brushing the curve of your jaw as his gaze holds yours. You breathe out, every inch of you aching with the pull between you two.

“You know what I want.” you whisper back.

With a quiet, almost reverent motion, he lifts you effortlessly from the counter, your legs instinctively wrapping around him as he carries you to the bed, never breaking eye contact.

It isn’t long before every single piece of clothing you were wearing is scattered across the room, discarded like thoughts of hesitation that no longer matter. His hands move with a gentleness that contrasts with the fire in his eyes, tracing slow, reverent paths over your skin. He holds you as if you are something precious, something irreplaceable, as if he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go.

His lips follow the path his hands have mapped, pressing slow. His fingers skimming along the curve of your back, the dip of your waist, the rise of your ribs.

"You’re beautiful" he murmurs, almost as if the words slip out without his permission. He leans back just enough to look at you, his gaze searching, drinking you in as if this moment might slip through his fingers if he blinks.

You reach up, fingers threading through his silver-grey hair, tugging lightly. “You always say that” you whisper, smiling softly.

“Because it’s always true” he counters, brushing his lips over your temple. You close your eyes at the tenderness of his words, the way they sink into your chest, filling spaces you hadn’t realized were empty. A quiet sigh escapes you as you nuzzle into him, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. You have never felt safer, never felt more cherished than in this moment, wrapped in the arms of the one who knows you better than anyone else.

In the most intimate moments, in the intensity of your sighs, you know that Sylus, despite not expressing it in words, shows you his most romantic side through his actions. And tonight, he expresses it to you with the intensity of his gaze and the softness of his movements.

Actions speaks louder than words.

281 notes · View notes

crowcalled · 12 days ago

Text

Because the US government is a disaster at the moment, the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention is deleting really important information, including updates on bird flu. (News article claims it was posted "in error", but information like this would normally be shared immediately).

Some important things to note here: It's now apparent that cats can pass bird flu on to people and people can pass bird flu to cats. While this particular strain of bird flu has only rarely been fatal to people so far, it's very often fatal to cats.

Cats can catch bird flu from birds outside, but most commonly get it from raw milk and raw pet food. If you have cats, DO NOT give them raw milk or raw meat. You could kill them and make yourself sick. Viruses like bird flu are very hard to test for in the food supply. Also, keep your cat inside or leash-walk it so it doesn't catch sick birds.

Link attached has the paywall removed.

#current events #bird flu

179 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months ago

Text

the girl next door 9

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You don’t go straight home. You don’t want to upset your mom. So, you wander the suburbs, walking around cul-de-sacs, some you’ve never been down, and circling around the avenues. You pass mothers and fathers with strollers and children running and yelling on green lawns. It’s as if you’re walking through a utopia, floating by like a cursed wraith.

You glance down at the book in your hand. Maybe you should try some lighter reading. Your mind tends to go to dark places.

When at last you let yourself go back to the house, you do so cautiously. You don’t see Steve or your mom. As you come to the front door, you wonder if you should knock. You quietly let yourself in, gently closing the door as you stand on the mat. You leave your shoes on the low rack and tiptoe down the hall. Your mom can’t be mad if she doesn’t know you’re there.

“Hey, kiddo,” Steve’s voice as you tripping over your own feet. You turn to the archway as you pass and peer in. Your mother’s in her recliner, her eyes closed. Is she sleeping? You watch her warily. “How was your walk?”

“Um,” you blink and shrug, “fine.”

He stands by the window, his hand on the wall beside it. Did he see you come up? You hadn’t noticed him behind the curtain.

“Breakfast for you in the oven. Won’t be very warm but if it’s no good, I can start a new batch,” he offers.

“Don’t bother with all that,” your mother grumbles and shifts in her chair, groaning as she shakily rubs her cheek. Her eyes open only slightly. “She can warm ‘em up.”

“Always better fresh,” Steve stands straight and faces you fully.

“Thanks.”

You leave them with the single word. You feel like an intruder. You stop by your bedroom and hover in indecision. You just want to hide but you would hate to be rude. Steve went to all that trouble and you know, even as your mother says he’s already done too much, she’d be even more upset if you wasted his effort.

You put your book on the foot of your bed and go down to the kitchen. You take out the pancakes, content enough to have them cold. There’s a bottle of real maple syrup. Steve must’ve supplied that; you can’t afford the pure stuff. You don’t use very much, mindful of the expense of the sugary nectar.

You grab cutlery and bring the plate to the table. You sit alone. You can hear the hum of the ceiling fan from the front room and the dulcet song of birds floating in through the windows. Steve’s low tone rolls through the din but you can’t make out his words. You mother answers his with short mutters. She’s not having a very good day. You're surprised he stayed this long.

The pancakes are good, even at room temperature. They’re fluffy and taste richer than the frozen ones you get a bargain on. Is that blueberry too? With each bite, your hunger clenches your stomach tighter, mulching down the food greedily. When you finish, your body growls and aches.

You wash off your plate and put it in the tray. The lull of the house thickens as you pad down to your room. You slow as you near the door frame. Had you closed it? You can’t recall.

You turn into the room and let out a noise of surprise. Steve looks over as he stands over the folding table, his hand on your sketchbook, a page half-turned. Your heart drops as you clasp your hands together.

“Sorry, er, didn’t mean to...” he rescinds his hand and lets the page flutter down, “It was open and...” you don’t know whether he means the door or the book. “You’re really talented.”

Your forehead crinkles and you charge towards him. You step around him and shut the book, swiping it up. He leans back on his heel.

“I didn’t... I wasn’t trying to...” he sputters, “I just wanted to pass something by you.”

You hug your sketchbook at you face him. You stare at this chest. You feel violated. Not just that he’s in your space but he touched your stuff. The one thing that’s really yours; your drawings.

“Me and your mom were talking, you know, and she said it would be good for you to get out, maybe make some extra money,” he explains, “and I’ll be around so you won’t need to worry about her so much.”

You frown. You and your mother have had this talk a billion times. Get off your ass and get a job. It’s not like you haven’t tried.

“So, I got some work you can do. Like I said, I gotta get that pool open,” he continues, “and there’s little things around the house. You got a good hand so maybe some painting here and there.”

You push your shoulders up. You don’t think you can say no, especially if he’s already said as much to your mom. You half-suspect this is her doing.

“Complementary milkshakes?” He offers breezily.

You’re quiet. You have no choice. You know as much.

“You know,” he softens his tone, “if I’m gonna... hang around with your mom, we should get to know each other. It’s a good opportunity for us.”

“Fine,” you answer.

“Fine? So that’s a yes?” He asks.

You close your eyes and flick them open, “yes.”

“Great. Well, when can you start? How about tomorrow? Supposed to be another sunny day.”

“Okay,” you agree, “tomorrow.”

He doesn’t move. You want him to leave. The conversation is over. He got what he wants and your mom too. He’ll pay you dimes to clean the pool and your mom will reap the profit.

“You know, I draw a little too,” he points to your sketchbook, “maybe if we have time tomorrow, I can show you.”

“Maybe,” you mutter.

“Ah, uh,” he chuckles bashfully and rubs his neck, “right, I'm in your way. Well, er, I’ll leave ya be.” He turns and struts to the door. He stops just inside the frame and looks back, “oh, how were the pancakes?”

You take a breath and stay staring at the wall, “good.”

“Great, did you have some of the syrup? It’s Canadian.”

“Yeah,” you turn and tuck your sketchbook into your dresser draw. “Thanks.”

“No problem, sweetie,” he taps the wall and the door closes with a click.

You sit on your bed and hunch over to hold your head. It’s still heavy from the night before and now you’re even more tired than before. You don’t know if it’s from being out in the sun or all the walking you did, but your eyelids feel dry and seem to cling with each blink. You yawn and bring your legs up, curling your body up near the edge of the bed.

You know you shouldn’t sleep in the middle of the day, but you just can’t help yourself.

🏠

You wake up in the haze of the late afternoon. Your eyes hurt and your limbs are achy. You lay on your back as the curtains stir with the lazy breeze. You look over to find them open but you don’t remember pulling them apart. You barely remember anything past your awkward morning stroll.

It takes you a while to push through the stiffness. You never sleep on your back; it leaves it racked and your ribcage hurts. As you stand, you notice the door. It’s slightly open.

You get up and go to it, pull it inch by inch. The house is quiet but for a soft rumble, rhythmic and rocky. You putter down the hall and look into the front room. Your mom’s asleep in her chair. She’s almost peaceful as she snores in the recliner.

The scene strikes you as odd, almost dreamlike. Your mom’s never been much of a napper. In fact, she always nagged you about the habit. You think of waking her but think better of it. She won’t be happy to be awoken, even if she might be irritated later to know she slept away the day.

Steve is gone. You search each room to be sure then go to the kitchen. It’s clean and everything is put away, even the dishes you left in the tray. The large bottle of syrup is gone as well.

You mutter and go back to your room. Another soft wind drifts in. You stumble over to your bed and fall back onto it. You yawn again. Gosh, you’re so tired.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the girl next door #au #silverfox au #captain america #marvel #mcu

268 notes · View notes

red-garden · 2 months ago

Text

Mdzs modern AU head cannons pt. 2

1) LWJ has a very impressive collection of weighted blankets- he normally sleeps under 60+ pounds of blankets for sensory reasons. The first time WWX sleeps in his bed, he is struck with the pure bliss that is a weighted blanket and never wants to leave

2) LSZ gets cold really easily and likes to be carried in his dads’ jackets when they go out for maximum warmth

3) the Jiang own a water transport company (selling boats, water skis, kayaks, etc) and manage the local rivers (land preservation, erosion control, species census, etc)

4) JYL was very into the land management side and went to college to ecology and conservation sciences

5) JC works water rescue in the local rivers- he’s not only a certified diver, he can also hold his breath without a tank for up to 3 minutes

6) the Jiangs host a yearly sea food boil, and JYL makes a special vegetarian soup for the Lans

7) JYL died in a car accident swerving to avoid hitting WWX- WWX was widely blamed for this accident, despite the unsafe conditions on the road that day

8) WN, bringing WWX along with help wrangling a rabid possum, lost control of the possum when spooked by JZX. The possum bit JZX, and he passed from rabies days later. WN didn’t have a proper hold of the possum, WWX was not supposed to be there since he’s not a professional animal handler, and he was held liable by the Jin

9) WWX, instead of dying, became a missing persons case, and no one- not even him- knows where he was for those 13 years

10) the Jins own the bank, the grocery store, the general store, the post office, basically every place of daily necessity in town. And on top of all that, after the impeachment and jailing of the last mayor WRH, JGS is the new mayor

11) JGY is the deputy mayor (later mayor after the sudden and tragic death of his father), and SMS in the county sheriff

12) while the Nie own a hunting supply store/lodge, NMJ is also the head of the volunteer fire department

13) NHS doesn’t hunt, but he plucks the birds that his brother brings home and turns the feathers into beautiful art pieces he sells online. He’s very well know on social media not only for his art, but also his fashion and gossip content

14) NMJ suffered a massive stroke, and has been on life support in the hospital for a few years, bleeding dry the Nie family with medical expenses

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jin guangyao #jiang cheng #nie mingjue #lan sizhui #wen ning #wen ruohan #jiang yanli #jin guangshan #jin zixuan #su she #su minshan #nie huisang

90 notes · View notes

kedreeva · 4 months ago

Note

I've been trying to find this online to no avail, so I'd like to ask you.

I know birds get these pin feathers when they get new feathers. Since peacocks shed their trains and then grow it back, do they also have pin feathers for those really long train feathers? Do they get really long, and are there a lot at once or is it more like a gradual process?

I've been so curious about this for a long time, since I've only really seen videos of smaller pin feathers on budgies and parrots.

Thanks in advance! Linking to relevant sources would be a-okay too. I always love learning more about birds :)

A pinfeather is loose term for a growing feather. The word was likely coined because the tips look like pin points when they first start growing through, due to the keratin sheath covering them to protect them during emergence. New feathers still have blood in the shafts, so they're also sometimes called blood feathers.

Feathers tend to grow decently fast in general, and molts tend to occur in large patches, which is why you can often see photos of small birds with lots of spiky looking feathers

But even when there's lots of spiky looking feathers, you can see at the very tip of them the dark bit where the feather vanes have started to peek out of the sheath. What happens as the keratin dries is that it gets flaky, and the birds slide it off or crumble it off the feathers by preening with their beaks. Keratin sheaths degrade into dust, which is why birds are SO FUCKING DUSTY (sheaths + powder down).

The sheath only has so much time before it dries, and birds are pretty meticulous about feather upkeep usually, so on short feathers, the vanes fan out at the tips and the sheaths get hidden or removed entirely fairly fast. So it kind of looks as if they get pinfeathers and then those get replaced by real feathers, but in reality, it's just that the sheath comes off and the feather is inside.

All feathers grow like this, that I'm aware of! In peafowl, the feathers still grow out in a sheath, but the sheath gets preened off bit by bit as it emerges/the feather grows, so you don't really see it. They don't grow all the way with a sheath and then get preened off at the end. It usually takes from about Sept to about May for the train to finish growing and the blood supply to the train feathers to end.

There ARE exceptions. Some birds are lazy/old/have medical problems, and the sheaths don't get removed properly. This can result in sheaths that harden in place, rather than flaking. In this case, the sheath would have to be removed manually by a caretaker; I've seen several peafowl whose owners must catch them several times a year and use wire strippers or other kinds of pliers, and clean the sheaths from their trains because the birds either can't or won't. Charcoal (once again the problem child of the peafowl universe) seems prone to this defect, which is another reason to avoid the morph, but it CAN happen to any bird.

Anyway, I do also have a /feathers tag, if you want to go browsing for more feathers info.

#asks #anon asks #feathers #peafowl #peafowl masterpost

90 notes · View notes

nonbinarykai · 7 months ago

Text

You know what fuck you *headcanons your ninja finances*

Kai

- usually deal with all the finances because he’s the most knowledgeable (and willing) to do it.

- he usually calculates how much the ninjas allowance is every two weeks and checks it off with wu to make sure everything looks good

- he also deals with money used for things like grocery’s, new supplies, etc in what they call the team fund

- typically if the ninja need something that benefits everyone (or don’t want to pay with their own money) they ask Kai and wu if they can use the team fund money instead.

- the ninja mostly get their finances through donations, merchandising, and awards from the city. Although it’s not much most shops in ninjago also give them custom discounts in order to thank them for protecting the city.

- Kai himself just usually saves up his allowance money. He never really developed out of his habit for saving.

- occasionally he would use his money to get the other gifts or to buy something he’s particularly interested. Like books or swords

Jay

- either always gambles away his money or spends it all right away getting new games, comics, or snacks.

- will pay ridiculous amount of money for merchandise if his current favorite show or media

- always begs Kai for more money or try to convince him to use the team fund to buy stupid shit

- never works lol

Nya

- uses most of her money to get supplies for her own side projects

- on the rare occasion jay will convince her to buy a new shirt

- frequent customer of Home Depot and Micheal’s

- she hates shopping in large mall complexes or stores because they would kick up her perfume allergies

Zane

- typically spends his money going to museums or zoos so he can look at birds

- he also donates most of his money to these places

- he also buys a lot of supplies and books about birds

- if you can’t tell he likes birds

- he doesn’t need to spend his own money on food or cooking supplies because the team fund usually covers that for him

- but he still likes to go to fancy restaurants in order to judge the food there lol

Cole

- one of the few ninja that has his own money stream because he does art commissions online

- Kai doesn’t question it as long as it means cole has his own money he doesn’t need to worry about

- spends his money on art supplies

- firm believer he’s a furry you cannot take this from me

- as a result also spends his money on fur suits, commissions, and going to cons

- also spends money trying to tend to his own plants he has

Lloyd

- lots, and lots of candy

- mostly spends his money on fast/junk food

- will occasionally buy himself a toy he wanted as a kid and now that he’s an adult with his own money he can get it himself

- likes to go to target a lot but not to buy anything just walk around and look at stuff before leaving

- if you tried to explain the concept of a credit card to him he would look at you like a kicked puppy

- also buys comics, although he’s not that interested in merch

- will sometimes buy plushies of himself

- anything else he has he usually donates

- if you took him to a grocery store I firmly believe he would take one look of those giant statues made by soda boxes and leave

- usually donates to museums

- very grateful that Kai is helping him with everything

- wu usually took care of the finances for a bit but after his tea shop and seeing how excited Kai was to run a shop with him (and recognizing Kai probably knows more then him) he let Kai take control

- of course everything still has to be approved by him so Kai isn’t abusing his power

#ninjago #Ninjago Kai #Ninjago Zane #Ninjago Cole #ninjago Lloyd #ninjago Nya #Ninjago jay #listen someone has to do it #and that someone is me

56 notes · View notes

a-literate-chicken · 1 month ago

Note

Hey! I just turned 18, and I still live with my parents, but when I move out I would like to have a chicken; I love biology, but I only research it as a hobby, so could you give me some tips on how to take care of a chicken or information about them? That would help me a lot! And is it possible to take care of a chicken in an apartment, or do they need a yard? I love chickens, and would really like to take care of one;

Happy (late) birthday my fellow biologist and chicken lover! I personally haven’t had any indoor pet chickens nor am I friends with anybody who has, so take all of the following advice with a grain of salt. I grew up in an agricultural area where any animals that were brought into the house were sick or needed around the clock supervision (except for the time I hatched and raised chicks in my bedroom for a month but that’s another story).

I think it’s definitely possible to have a pet chicken that lives inside without access to a yard, but it is going to be a lot of work and I’m hesitant to support it. I’m going to be rather blunt here but my first concern is that birds poop frequently. With birds like parakeets or other small species, the quantity is small. With a chicken it will be much more, but, I have heard of people using chicken diapers. I also think with some research into husbandry, it won’t be that hard to find a proper diet or supplies for housing needs. Chickens aren’t like other birds in that they don’t chew on stuff and they can’t fly very well. They are still birds though, and are very social and curious and will need a lot of enrichment and social interaction. They aren’t domesticated like cats or dogs, and will do better outside with access to other chickens and things that encourage natural behaviors like dirt to roll around in.

My other concern (this is me speaking from a veterinary perspective) is that poultry carry diseases and I would be hesitant to encourage keeping birds in the house just for the heck of it.

All in all, I don’t recommend a house chicken, esp as a first time pet. Most stories you see about people having pet chickens is that they end up either one that is disabled or requires special care so they bring it inside in order to better take care of it. This is probably not the answer you wanted to hear and I’m sorry that I don’t have better news.

However, if you can find a place where you can have chickens in a yard, I absolutely recommend it! They are independent and hardy and won’t need a ton of supervision if you end up with a job that doesn’t allow you to spend much time with them. I suggest getting a few as they will do way better with friends. I can think of a couple of breeds off the top of my head that are more outgoing and have a better chance of bonding with you as their human, or if you want egg layers I can recommend breeds for that as well. Again, there is a lot of information online on chicken husbandry so it won’t be hard to find if you have questions about how much space they need or what to feed them. I also recommend choosing breeds and flock size based off whatever area you live in (small breeds if you are concerned about space or hardier breeds if you have harsh weather, if you live a city you may not be allowed to have roosters, stuff like that). If you have other specific questions or want to know more about how to get started, feel free to ask here anytime! Chicken questions and/or biology questions are always welcome ❤️

#good luck my friend!#thanks for the ask!#chickens #chickenblr

16 notes · View notes

darkmaga-returns · 2 months ago

Text

It will come as no surprise to learn that Bill Gates and Jeff Bezos have invested heavily in “climate vaccines“.

The pair are bankrolling the development of a vaccine designed to reduce the methane produced by cattle.

In the video below Josh Sigurdson of World alternative Media reports on how they are pushing this latest agenda:

“Jeff Bezos’ “Earth Fund” is attempting to do something Bill Gates has also been investing in for years. So-called “vaccines” that stop cows from emitting gas. Of course this is simply an excuse to inject cows with mysterious poisons which then end up being fed to the masses. These injections are the latest example of the “poisoning of the well” as we also see the push for mRNA Bird Flu “vaccines” in the food supply.

This latest story once again correlates the World Economic Forum’s goal of net zero with the Covid hoax as the WEF openly stated in 2022 that “Covid” was a test for compliance to bring in climate policies and 15 Minute Cities.

Recently, the United Nations Pact For The Future was signed by 193 countries and includes the net zero agenda, the eventual banning of meat, the shuttering of bank accounts if you say negative things about the establishment online and the integration of carbon credits attached to your bank account.

As we see weather modification across the board causing disasters, as we see the war on farmers, as we see the push for both World War 3 and Civil War which would allow the state to bring in emergency orders while destroying the supply chain, as we see the mass culling of animals under the guise of “Bird Flu,” as we see inflation driving food prices up, it’s blatantly clear the direction they’re leading us to. The destruction of the supply chain, the poisoning of what is left and the enforcement of rations on digital IDs. The global technocracy nears more every day.

We are witnessing mass death from the “Covid vaccines” and as more is exposed about the hoax, we’re being hit by a dozen other things to not only distract us but keep people in a perpetual state of fear so that the culprits themselves can come in and pretend to be a “solution.”

The solution is you. Reject the system. Withdraw from the system. Build your own, grow your own, stock up and exit the global financial system as much as possible.”

16 notes · View notes

pareidoliaonthemove · 5 months ago

Text

Where's Mine?

It was a blessed break in rescues, and Virgil was taking the opportunity to restock his personal snack stashes.

The most important ones would be in Thunderbird Two – both in the cockpit and cunningly secured in the various pod bodies. Rescues could be both arduous and time-consuming, and there was rarely the chance for a proper meal. Their ‘official’ ration bars and packs were all well and good, but each of the Tracys had their own preferences.

Scott’s personal snack stashes were aboard Thunderbird One (and Thunderbird Two, Virgil had found them – and occasionally ‘appropriated’ part as a ‘transport tax’). And were, unsurprisingly, apple-pie themed. Apple-pie flavoured protein bars, apple-pie flavoured cakes, apple-pie flavoured chewing gum, apple-pie flavoured fruit/custards, and one time, even mini-apple-pies in a cold box.

Gordon’s snacks were his ubiquitous Celery Crunch Bars, a left-over from his calorie-controlled Olympic training diet. The noxious green bars (as well as their wrappers and crumbs) occupied Thunderbird Four – and Thunderbird Two. Gordon didn’t bother trying to hide his snack stash – nobody else would eat the disgusting things. And that went double for his ‘cheese’ spray cans.

John’s ‘stash’ was no secret. Thunderbird Five’s kitchen pantry was filled to bursting with bagels – and chocolate. Grandma had long despaired of the astronaut’s diet, and had threatened – numerous times – to blockade John’s supply line and only allow whole fruits and vegetables into orbit. John’s vowed retribution of stopping production of her precious soap operas quickly shut down any attempts to interfere with his diet.

Alan’s snacks were a diabetic crisis waiting to happen. High energy, high sugar snacks graced Thunderbird Three (and Thunderbird Two – Virgil was beginning to think his precious ‘Bird was considered as little more than a mobile snack shack), a rotating roster of brands as Brandon ‘The Bear’ Berringer lost and gained new sponsors. The only exception was the venerable ‘Spaceman Food’, based on NASAs food rations in the early days of manned space exploration.

All the brothers had gone through a phase of hoovering up the highly processed ‘snacks’. Virgil had a memory of insisting that his father eat them constantly – thinking that they were what he ate in space, and not wanting his father to be ‘unhappy’ on Earth. Jeff, whose orbital diet was much better than those early pioneers’, choked down the bars to humour his son. Lucy had finally taken pity on her husband, and convinced Virgil’s younger self that when he was in space his father missed ‘Earth food’, but couldn’t take it into space, so when at home he should be left to eat the same as the rest of the family.

Virgil’s own snacks tended to be more varied. Although there was a definite trend towards coffee-flavours, it wasn’t exclusive. At various times, there could be pre-packaged cakes and cookies, protein bars, dried fruits, chocolates, and various sweets. An outbreak of pilfering from Virgil’s stash had been combated by the inclusion of chocolate-covered grasshoppers, candied ants, and meal-worms with various chip flavours. All of which hadn’t been too bad, Virgil thought. His brothers’ disgust was misplaced, food was food, after all. And good food was good.

And Virgil liked trying new things, so he scoured the online market places for small businesses with interesting, shelf-stable snacks to compliment his tried and true favourites. As he sat on his bedroom floor with the various boxes and containers around him, he was pleased with the assortment this time.

He was sharing out the various incoming supplies to boxes to replenish his various snack stashes. Thunderbird Two – the Pods – his Workshop in the Hangars – Studio – and his ‘Official’ stash in the Villa’s pantry.

The klaxon blared, and John’s hologram popped up. “International Rescue, we have a situation.”

Virgil jumped up, grabbed a box at random, and hurried out of the room.

The situation was in Cairo, a massive sinkhole had opened up beneath four residential blocks of flimsy high-rise buildings at approximately breakfast time. The death toll was massive even before International Rescue had been contacted. All that was left to them was to stabilise the edges to prevent it enlarging beyond the six blocks it had consumed by the time International Rescue had taken control of the Danger Zone, before trying to extract the pathetic few lifesigns before they too blinked from existence.

The heat was intense. It was now noon in the middle of the northern hemisphere’s summer, and the temperature had surpassed the 35 degree Celsius mark hours ago.

The air conditioning in the Pods were good, but it had its limits, and Virgil’s gecko pod had reached it over an hour ago. He was hot, tired, hungry, and still had hours of work to be done.

A moment of realisation had him reaching for a compartment built into the side of the pod body, where he had stashed a handful of the snacks he had brought with him.

Without looking he had fished one out, and brought up into his eyeline. It was a freeze dried ice-cream, a ‘Paddle-Pop’ which was apparently an ‘iconic’ Australian treat.

Virgil had had no idea what flavour ‘rainbow’ was supposed to be, but the concept had been intriguing, and he eagerly tore open the packet now, and, considering, decided to start at the top, sticking part of the treat into his mouth.

It was, he decided, a kind of bubblegum flavour, and the sweetness was welcome, even if he wasn’t convinced by the texture. It had a kind of chewy, gluggy marshmallow feel to it, and Virgil quickly decided that he would let it slowly dissolve in his mouth.

He wondered idly if he could break the remainder into bite-sized pieces for future use, as he refocused on what he was doing.

John’s hologram flared into life in front of him. “Virgil–” John performed a comic double-take as he saw the ice cream in Virgil’s mouth. “Uh, do you have an estimate for when we can commence retrieval operation?”

Virgil eyed his readouts, and performed a couple of quick mental calculations. “Another half to three quarter hour,” he said, pulling his snack from his mouth by its stick. “Alan will be able to start pulling large rubble out of the way with Thunderbird Two, Gordon and Scott can reconfigure the pods for gecko lift, and I’ll go in with my exo-suit. Local rescue to standby and receive victims and remains. We’ve just got to finish coating the bottom of the south-west sector.”

John nodded. “I’ll relay those instructions,” he promised, before giving Virgil another questioning look as the snack was stuffed back into his mouth.

Virgil was going to need a lot of energy, and fast.

An undetected weakness in a the section of the sinkhole that still had to be stabilised blew out Virgil’s projected timeline, and it was over an hour later before he climbed out of his pod in the relative coolness of Thunderbird Two’s module alongside Scott.

“Hey, Virgil! What config for the gecko lifts do you …” Scott’s voice trailed off at the sight of the ‘ice cream’ in Virgil's mouth, before deciding there were more important things to focus on. “Uh. Um. Should I set them up for claw or grapple?”

Once again, Virgil pulled the confectionery out of his mouth by the stick. “One of both to start with. If necessary, the other pod can be reconfigured, but until we start picking that mess apart, we won’t know for certain what we need.”

Scott nodded, and jogged over to the holographic controls, but not without giving Virgil a puzzled look as he shoved his treat a back into his mouth and headed towards his exo-suit.

The exo-suit was wrapped around him, locking into position, and he rolled his shoulders, stretching out before he started the physically intensive part of the rescue.

Jogging back towards the internal access, Virgil headed back to the cockpit, grunting in frustration when he couldn’t sit down wearing the exo-suit. He was going to be on his feet too long soon enough, and he would have liked to save whatever energy he could now.

Alan burst into the cockpit and beelined towards the pilots chair without acknowledging Virgil. Great. The kid was in a snit about being ‘left out’ again – Virgil sighed tiredly, Alan really should have learned by now that it wasn’t his age that had put him in the cockpit, it was his lack of specialisation in this type of rescue.

Alan triggered the comms even as he was adjusting the pilots seat. “Thunderbird 2 to Pods. Please update status.”

Scott’s voice came back immediately. “Thunderbird 2; Gecko Claw Pod. Clear.”

“Thunderbird 2; Gecko Grapple Pod. Clear.” Gordon chirped a handful of seconds later.

“FAB, Pods. Thunderbird 2 commencing lift off to take hover station above Danger Zone.”

Virgil was pleased to note Alan’s professional conduct over the comms. Maybe he had been wrong about the attitude? Maybe Alan was just tired.

“Thunderbird 2 in position. Standing by for extraction and to grab and lift designated targets.”

Alan cut the open comm line, before speaking again. “Alright, Virgil; where am I,” he glanced over his shoulder and started. The jolt went right down his arms and into Thunderbird 2’s control yoke, and she bucked enough that Virgil had to grab hold of the overhead grab bar to steady himself. “Shit, sorry. Um. Where am I dropping you off, Virgil?”

“Language,” Virgil said absently, once he had pulled his snack out of his mouth again. He glanced again at the holographic display of the top levels of the debris pile. “Right next to that two story chunk of apartment building in the centre. That’s my first priority location for search and rescue. That looks like it’ll have a high concentration of survivors.” He frowned. “I know solar power is better than any of the alternatives, but in a situation like this, it really messes with our close range sensors. I wish there was a way to remotely stop the battery discharge.”

Alan nodded. “Be careful. I don’t want to be digging you out again because your exo-suit shorted out with you in it.”

Virgil frowned. “Brains and I reworked the entire grounding system after that. It was a one in a billion chance.”

The little brother snorted. “Yeah, well, Scott had to make a supply run to the mainland for hair dye after that. I don’t wanna have to do the same.”

Virgil chuckled. “No chance, kiddo. You have to shave before you worry about that.”

He took two big bites of his treat, tucking the chunks into his cheeks hamster style before returning the snack to its package in his baldric, and setting his helmet in place and striding over to the floor hatch and locking his grasping claw onto the winch-fed safety line.

Alan double-checked their position. “Good to deploy, Exo-Suit.”

“FAB. Exo-Suit away.”

It was five, long, hot and dusty hours later when John finally called the rescue.

They hadn’t found anyone alive for the last three.

Virgil sighed as he hauled himself into Thunderbird Two’s pod to divest himself from the exo-suit.

No doubt there would be the usual recriminations. Why had they taken so long? Why had the spent the time shoring up the sides? Grieving families rarely understood that first the site had to be made safe for the rescuers. All they saw was people letting their loved ones die.

All they would see was the people who were supposed to save their loved ones flying away and leaving them.

Not all the missing had been accounted for.

Scott was going to have to pay PR another bonus after this one.

Virgil groaned as the weight of the exo-suit disappeared from around him, along with its support. It wouldn’t be the first time he hadn’t been able to stand upright once the framework had been removed from around him. He had learned quickly to leave his helmet on until after he knew he could stand upright.

It had taken a considerable bribe to buy John’s silence as to the exact cause of that broken nose.

Satisfied that he would remain upright, he removed his helmet, and took a deep breath. No matter how much Brains protested, the built-in filters gave the air a distinct taste, and it was a relief to breathe the fresh air of the module.

His stomach gave a growl as he stepped into the internal corridors leading to the cockpit. Virgil idly wondered if he could convince Scott to pick up some takeaway on his way back to the Island as he once again pulled the freeze-dried ice cream from his baldric and stuck it back in his mouth.

John was on the comms as he gained the cockpit. “...giving you a heads-up, Alan. Scott’s already told me to remote pilot Thunderbird One home. Given the duration and environmental conditions of this one, he doesn’t want to risk anyone flying alone. You’ll be taking shifts at the controls all the way back to Tracy Island.”

Alan snorted. “Yeah right. Scott and Virgil will have a hissy fight, Virgil will win ‘cause it’s his ‘Bird, Scott’ll sulk in the co-pilots seat, while Gordon and I are sent back to the bunks to ‘rest’, despite having done the least amount of physical work. Meanwhile, you’ll secretly have remote control and will be flying us home anyway.”

John smiled. “Maybe.”

Virgil flopped into one of the jumpsuits, shucking off his baldric and harness before pulling coverall uniform off his torso and tying the arms around his waist. “Nope,” he mumbled around the confectionery. “The Thunderbird Pilot you’re calling is not available. Please call again when he is conscious.”

Alan and John stared at him. “You okay, Virgil?” Alan asked, standing up to try feel Virgil’s forehead.

He batted the hand away. “Fine, Alan. Nothing that a good shower, a good meal, and a good sleep won’t fix. A good massage would be nice, too. Remember that place in Japan, Johnny?”

“I remember. The masseuse literally walked all over your back for an hour. I don’t know how you stand it. And don’t call me Johnny.” There was a question in John’s face as he considered Virgil. “Say, Vir–”

He was cut off as Scott stumbled into the cockpit to collapse groaning into a chair, followed by an altogether too energetic and bouncy Gordon who slammed, performing a comedic double-take when he noticed Virgil.

“What the seven seas, Big Guy? You have ice-cream and you’re not sharing? Dude, where’s mine? I thought these guys were kidding me! Where’d you even get ice-cream from, anyway?!”

Virgil closed his eyes as his three other brothers joined in on the chorus of questions and recriminations.

Maybe keep the freeze-dried ice creams for his studio in future.

Notes:

This one’s been sitting in my WIP pile for the last six months.

A co-worker had brought a freeze-dry set up and set up a little side-hustle selling freeze-dried snacks. I brought a packet of paddle-pops and amused myself at various loading sites, waiting a couple of hours and pulling out a freeze-dried icecream and sucking on it for the next four hours. In 40deg Celsius heat.

It’s the little things that make life worth living.

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the TOS or CGI Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfic #my fanfic #virgil tracy #scott tracy #alan tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #snacks

30 notes · View notes