#get to know agent yolk

[agent-yolk]

1, 6, 30!

1.

Sabaton - The Unkillable Soldier

6.

Bo Burnham - Shit

30.

Robert Tepper - No Easy Way Out

[peatbogbody]

oh yunho!

arguably the most enigmatic member of ATEEZ. as others have said, and as i have experienced personally, when you see him your first reaction is "well that certainly is an Idol." he looks like an idol, sounds like an idol. but the longer you look you start to go "....??? HUH?"

he's actually like the definition of hotness and proof it's not all about looks. like of course he's gorgeous but not like absurdly so or in the super striking, supermodel-esque way that certain other members are. but he's got a whole air that's just so effortlessly sexy.

in terms of his role in the group, he's stated himself that he's in charge of bringing the energy to the group, the "yunhogizer" as it were. i was thinking about this and decided i think it's less that he just *brings* energy (though he's very capable of doing that), but more that he has a big role in *setting* the energy level and color, and bringing diverse elements together. in this group, we have many members whose base energy/emotional intensity level they bring to any setting is very high. their "high energy" is chart-breaking and their "low energy" is still pretty intense and stimulating. joong, hwa, san, mingi and woo are all like this (not to say they're boring or one-track, they have many different levels and flavors they just very heavily lean to the more intense/darker side, ) whereas yeosang and jongho's main mode of operation is much mellower (yeosang can be intense and jongho has a lot of power but neither of them bring the kind of manic/demonic energy to music or performance the others do). but ys and jh are not only 2 against 5, they're also almost too contrasting with the other members, so that when paired directly against eachother it can be jarring.

yunho's like an egg binding the dough together. his strength is in his versatility. he can bring the energy and intensity when he needs to, which usually has the effect of sending the whole group's energy up to 11--see the dance breaks in Wonderland or WIN--but is also capable of heart-melting lightness and softness when he wants too--see the choruses in Light or the intro to Utopia. his voice may not be the most distinctive but it's just so pleasant to hear, like a warm hug.

And he can go anywhere in between, especially vocally, so he makes an excellent singer to put between members whose voices are extremely contrasting (when such contrast is not desired for impact). At some point I think I want to do a more in-depth vocal analysis so I won't get too granular here. But ok I'm going to keep going with the egg metaphor not sorry I'm a genius actually. You can beat him and incorporate him as a binding agent, separate him and use his yolk to add richness and flavor or whip him to stiff peaks to make a delicious fluffy cake or meringue. You get it. Yunho is quintessential in setting the tone of whatever ATEEZ is doing at a given moment.

now, off stage....well. on paper his assigned role is "puppy", and to the naked eye he can appear to be some combination of that and Some Guy. and that's not totally inaccurate. he is a verified Male Living Space Owner and ranked Valorant player whose default instagram post type is "boyfriend". but he has a certain je ne sais quoi to him that's hard to pin down. he carries a mischievous glint in his eyes at basically all times. he's suspiciously present in many of the most off-the-wall short-form content (bonus) on ateez's official accounts. he's also, apart from seonghwa, to my eyes the member most at home anytime gender-bending is called for--the boy eats girl group choreo for breakfast and has a blast doing it. but he's *also* capable of going full hype-house tiktokker mode when appropriate.

we love a man of mystery. i will continue to watch his activities closely.

not even touching the ?Catholicism i have zero context for that all i know is he does the crossy-thing in halazia?

yungiiiii! there is SO much to say about them but its too much for me to put in this post but lmk if yall ever feel like making a sandwich someday 😥

p.s. can i just say how pretty his bare-faced complexion is? that is all.

also HANDS i didn't include any pics bc i hit the limit and also i didnt want to kill anybody

next writeup will be about yeosang 🥰

[bakingtherapy]

Genshin Inspired Recipes #3 Eula: Custard

Hello, every birdie. Today we are going to be making a dish inspired by a character named Eula. 

Eula - She is a Cyro character from Mondsadt. She has a heavy burden over her, regard to her family. She is part of the Lawerence clan and thinks that everyone doesn’t like her because of it. And no matter what happens to her she acts with “vengeance.”

She was my second 5-star character in the game. 

Every nation in Genshin is based on a specific country in the world. 

Mondsadt is Germany. 

Liyue is China

Inazuma is Japan

Sumeru is India 

Fontaine - French

Natlan - Philippines or Africa

For today’s recipe, we are going to be looking at a German recipe. This cookbook was gifted to me by my German grandma (adopted. We adopted each other as grandmother and granddaughter.). Like she lived in Germany until she was 7 years old.  So this cookbook will always have a place in my heart. 

I do have to have google open with this cookbook though. Because there is terminology that I don’t know and had to look up. 

Okay, onto the recipe. We are going to be following a recipe called “GUSTIN - pudding with Fruit.”

The recipe and the measurements will be down below. Feel free to look at it. 

The ingredients you will need are:

GUSTIN (corn starch powder)

Sugar 

Oetker Vanillin Sugar (if you don’t have this, which I didn’t. I added about 1 -2 tsp of vanilla extract to the same amount of granulated sugar.) (Edit from future Robby - Wegman's & Walmart both have this for about $2.00. I just didn't know that at the time.)

1 egg separated 

Milk or water

Milk 

Fresh fruit 

In a bowl, you are going to mix together your GUSTIN, which is your corn starch. Your sugar, and vanilla, the egg yolk with 6 Tablespoons of cold milk or water. 

In a pot on the stove, you are going to bring together a pint which is 2 cups of milk to a boil. I doubled this recipe because I was feeding 7 adults. And it didn’t look like that much. So always go with your gut feeling on the quantity you need. And yes, sometimes your gut feeling will not be correct. 

Once your milk is at a boil, remove it from the heat, and stir in the corn starch mixture. Trust me when I say that you want to turn the mixture off the heat. There have been many times when I burnt the pudding because I added the cornstarch or thickening agent when the mixture was on heat. 

When all of your dry ingredients are incorporated, you are going to bring it back to the stove and bring it to a boil, yet again. 

You are going to whisk your egg white until stiff peaks. If you have a hard time with a meringue there are a few tips that I have learned along the way from my mom. 

Put your equipment in the freezer about 10-30 minutes before you are going to use it. 

Use a metal bowl. It holds the coldness longer. 

Never try to do a meringue by hand. You will be tired at the end of it, and you will not have stiff peaks that are generally needed. 

Make sure to constantly stir your pudding mixture. Nobody likes burnt pudding, it just sits there unpleasantly at the back of your throat, just reminding you that you made a mistake. So don’t do like I have done in the past. 

Once the mixture comes to a boil, you are going to take it off the heat. And fold in your egg whites. While it is still hot, thus you cook your egg white. And you are not eating raw egg whites. 

(Gotta love the mess in the picture. I couldn't even be bothered to clean up the table. Geez. 😂)

When you serve the pudding, you can add the fruit to it however you like. I made it into like a trifle-like thing. It tasted really good, and it wasn’t a heavy dessert either. I am finding that as I get older, I like baking with fruits and veggies more than anything else. 

I hope that you liked this recipe. Feel free to check it out down below. See you in the next recipes. Thank you. 

Show the original author some 💖💖💖 Robby's Cookbook Collection

Here is a printable version of this recipe: on the blog

Please consider supporting me through the following options:

🐥Patreon 🐥 Kofi 🐥 Facebook 🐥 Pinterest 🐥

[writer-or-whatever]

Sleight of Hand

The other piece of HorrorComedy flash fiction that I wrote semi-recently and finally posted (find the other here). Read under the cut or on AO3.

Summary: Caroline moved to the foothills to have an escape. She gets to work nine to five and then the world is her oyster from five to nine—that’s what the real estate agent promised. She hasn’t been on a walk once in the six months that she’s lived here. Today that changes.

Rating: T | Word Count: 1.5k | Horror & Humor

It’s a nice night for a walk. The air is cool and fresh with the rain of the morning, but the evening sky is clear, with no sign of the clouds that did nothing but drizzle over the earth all day. The fresh air and crisp smell of early fall coaxed Caroline out of the house and into the woods behind it, not that it was hard.

She’s been caged in all day, running furiously on the corporate hamster wheel from the comfort of her couch. There is no boundary between work and home—everything is just a maudlin slurry of exhaustion. A rat race with no finish. But the trees out back know nothing about that kind of existence. They have been there longer than she’s been alive, even the saplings. They stand firmly in place—tall and steady with deep roots—and they do not let Jane from Accounts Payable bully them in a conference call. They call to her every time she glances out of the window and sighs. Come take a walk. It’s good for you. Touch some grass. Please, we’ve plenty of it. Come and play.

It’s hard for her to say no.

Caroline moved to the foothills to have an escape. She gets to work nine to five and then the world is her oyster from five to nine—that’s what the real estate agent promised. She hasn’t been on a walk once in the six months that she’s lived here.

Today that changes.

She pulls on her jacket and her hiking boots—brown suede and red laces just like in Wild—and grabs a water bottle. She’s going to enjoy herself. This will be good for you; that’s what all the books say. “I hiked the PCT! It saved my life!” “I used to be a corporate drone, but then I discovered the wonders of nature!” “Henry David Thoreau was right! Returning to nature is the only way to fix us!”

Caroline is full of gusto and grand poetic notions for the first mile. She is going to do this every day! It is gorgeous and refreshing! She has been wasting her life away behind a screen—man was not meant to live under the yolk of a machine!

The second mile passes in a more subdued manner. She appreciates the birdsong and the lichen, and she has realistic expectations. Probably not every day, but some of them surely. Once a week is probably doable.

She doesn’t take in any glorious wonders of nature in the third mile. She’s too busy thinking about what Jane from Accounts Payable meant when she called her “endearing” before she shot her proposal down. She checks her watch, the little rectangle glows faintly blue back at her: 6:15. Caroline hasn’t logged off this early in months. Her coworkers are surely all still pecking away at their keyboards. Her boss is probably still online. They’ve probably had another meeting and were confused by her absence. They’re probably having another right now. About her. She has to go back and check. She’s wasting precious time out here. She has to work harder if she ever wants a chance to retire. She’ll be forced to work until she dies if she doesn’t get back online right this minute. She–

She can’t find the way back. She has been following a trail, hasn’t she? Caroline looks around. There is no trail. The ground beneath her feet is indistinguishable from that around it. There is no path. Surely there was a path?

She can’t remember. The siren song of the woods was so strong—she followed it right out to shore and now it’s dashing her against the rocks. She’s going to die here. She has no wilderness skills—she got bored halfway through the drive to her first Girl Scouts’ camping trip and made her mom turn right back around—what made her think she could just go gallivanting off into the woods?

She turns back the way she thinks she came. She pulls out her phone and opens the compass app that came pre-installed; she is facing southwest. Caroline doesn’t know which way she came from, and this does not help. She tries walking this way anyway. It’s a complete 180 degrees from where she was going, so it must be from whence she came.

She makes it one mile. She doesn’t remember if she’s seen this tree before. Maybe that rock looks familiar?

Another mile. The trees don’t look any thinner. Did they close in around her slowly on the way out? Or was she deep in the thicket from the start?

Another half mile and she needs to sit down. Her water bottle is empty. She is so tired. What was she thinking? There is a log just a little further. That will be as good a place as any to rest for a minute.

She sits down on the log, and it’s not as hard as it looks. It has moss growing over it, and the wood is soft and damp. She pulls at the bark absentmindedly and it comes away easily. Nothing like the hard trees that tower around her. Will she be this soft and pliable when she returns to the Earth?

Before she can do something stupid—like lay down and let the forest grow over her—she spots movement from behind one of the trees in the direction she’s been walking. Help at last! Thank god!

It’s probably one of her neighbors. There are other cabins and cozy little houses on the edge of the wilderness out here. She hasn’t met any of the other residents, but she’s seen the lights on in their windows. Maybe she can introduce herself now—find a hiking buddy. Isn’t that what all the true crime podcasts recommend? Never wander into the woods alone.

A figure emerges from behind the trees. Its arms are long and spindly, like the branches around them. Their face is obscured by a hanging curtain of dark hair, which goes undisturbed by both wind and breath. The wind is cool where it rustles Caroline’s hair and coaxes wisps of it out of her ponytail. She stares at them, paralyzed. She can’t even blink.

But she must have, because in the space between one moment and the next they’ve disappeared. And she didn’t see it. She must have closed her eyes—in fear or in disbelief or in prayer, she doesn’t know, but she must have had them closed because the figure is gone now and things don’t just disappear. Maybe it wasn’t ever there. She’s stressed, she’s lost, she’s tired. Weirder things have happened. Brain chemistry is odd like that.

The figure emerges from behind another, thinner tree much closer to her. It is too big to have been hiding there. But there it is, peeking its head out from behind it. Looking at her.

She still can’t see the face—dark hair is still hanging in the way of it—but that doesn’t matter. She can feel the weight of its eyes on her. The hair on the back of her neck stands on end. How is it hiding there? And how did it get so close. It moved more than 100 yards in that fraction of a second. This isn’t real. It’s not happening. She’s imagining it. She should shut her eyes and take a deep breath. She can’t.

If she takes her eyes off that thing she is going to die. If she makes even the smallest movement, it is going to get her. If she keeps looking at it then she’ll be okay. It cannot get her if she does not let it.

It ducks back behind the tree again. She can’t see it—it moved faster than the first time. Caroline is going to die, she’s certain of it. This thing is going to get her. She won’t even see it coming. The feeling of being watched comes again from her right. She doesn’t want to look. She doesn’t want to know. She turns her head anyway.

It is sitting next to her, the soft wood of the log creaking underneath the added weight. It’s sitting shoulder to shoulder with her, as close as it can get without touching. It’s roughly the same size as she is, though she swears it was taller before and thinner beside. Now they’re both midsize. The lanky hair that still covers its face is Caroline’s bright box red and the roots are her honey blonde.

It reaches one of its hands toward her face, and the fingers are spindly but slowly shrinking and reforming. The sound of bones snapping and crunching makes her stomach churn. They’re bringing that rippling hand toward her face. She can’t move—she can’t even blink—she is going to watch as it reaches right into her. The hand skirts around to the far side of her head at the last second and hovers near her ear. Then it pulls its hand away quickly and she screams.

There is something in its hand. A coin. This thing, now wearing her face, grins back at her, smiling with far more teeth than she’s ever had. It hands her the coin.

“Ta da!” It says. It has her voice.

[wheezethecheeze]

One 18.25 ounce package chocolate cake mix.

One can prepared coconut pecan frosting.

Three slash four cup vegetable oil.

Four large eggs.

One cup semi-sweet chocolate chips.

Three slash four cup butter or margarine.

One and two third cups granulated sugar.

Two cups all purpose flower.

Don't forget garnishes such as:

Fish shaped crackers.

Fish shaped candies.

Fish shaped solid waste.

Fish shaped dirt.

Fish shaped ethyl benzene.

Pull and peel licorice.

Fish shaped volatile organic compounds and sediment shaped sediment.

Candy coated peanut butter pieces. Shaped like fish.

One cup lemon juice.

Alpha resins.

Unsaturated polyester resin.

Fiberglass surface resins.

And volatile malted milk impoundments.

Nine large egg yolks.

Twelve medium geosynthetic membranes.

One cup granulated sugar.

An entry called 'how to kill someone with your bare hands.'

Two cups rhubarb, sliced.

Two slash three cup granulated rhubarb.

One tablespoon all-purpose rhubarb.

One teaspoon grated orange rhubarb.

Three tablespoons rhubarb, on fire.

One large rhubarb.

One cross borehole electro-magnetic imaging rhubarb.

Two tablespoons rhubarb juice.

Adjustable aluminum head positioner.

Slaughter electric needle injector.

Cordless electric needle injector.

Injector needle driver.

Injector needle gun.

Cranial caps.

And it contains proven preservatives, deep penetration agents, and gas and odor control chemicals.

That will deodorize and preserve putrid tissue.

this is by far the weirdest recipe i've seen but ok! um., i dont know where to get some of those so i'll substitute them for.. oil

[sialaterornever]

okay okay okay, going back to my split yolks au (temp name for this awful idea also please read that for context before continuing

also prepare for one hell of a textpost

ive been thinkin bout how split!charlie would... work

like... do I give him another name? cuz he is very different

making sy!slime a zombie hybrid just because i can while we're at it

im leaning towards the name semil? just.... rearranging the letters slime bc yeah

okay, past that stupidness, also i realized how his aging would work bc the federation would probably be figuring out a way to reage him up without waiting another 20+ years to get charlie slimccl back

so, after two weeks or so, they take charlie and test their first age-up thingie. and it works! kinda

now toddler charlie is kid charlie, bout the same traits as the eggs and no long baby

he can actually speak english, mildly knows spanish, relies on communicator for portuguese and french

the islanders ig tell him that theyve been taking care of him, he vaguely remembers, calls everyone aunts & uncles like the eggs (except he maybe calls mike big bro :))

and here's where my idea splits. either

a. they attempt to turn charlie back into his original state... which means also attempting to give him back the childhood trauma he had

or

b. turning him into a federation sleeper agent/full on federation brain wash

the former haas much more angst, since im gonna incorporate a pinch of scu 100 days and maybe a touch of godcicle if i feel up to it? also gonna add a dash of even more childhood trauma :)

idk, might make a poll for this if people want ro see me write. i already have the first part with cucurucho meeting sy!slime written and donezo

[portugalisinsa]

#yeah no eggnog for me#it tastes so good but it tears up my GI tract lol#is there a way to make a similar tasting drink just without eggs?

Get all the ingredients of an eggnog and substitute egg with some sort of thickening agent (cornflour, potato starch, flour, vanilla pudding mix, whatever), mix so that there's no lumps, and cook on medium heat while stirring continuously until thickened to desired consistency. That's gonna be basically indistinguishable to eggnog.

The cooking method is used in eggnog, but i know that there's also a "raw egg" way (whip the egg yolks, add ingredients, often there's heavy cream so it gets even thicker, whip it all together, bob's your uncle). I'm sure some culinary people out there think that there's a real tangible difference between an eggnog made with one method vs the other, so if you want to try a "raw egg" eggnog... man idk, logically speaking I think aquafaba or silk tofu are the way to go, but the thought horrifies me. Maybe I'm being unfair though? Idk, personally I'd just go with the first method.

[bakingforgoobers]

When people Say...

"I can't Bake." Nuts to that noise. I'm going to tell you right now anyone can bake- Anyone can Cook PERIOD. but it requires a few traits you need to cultivate. Step the first- Patience. Yes I hear the collective groans of anyone who stumbled onto this post on tumblr but it's TRUE. and I'm going to tell you why. Cooking is 90 percent food preparation, and the act of prepwork for the culinary arts requires a lot of work. So most people would rather chop their veggies or fruits into big chunks, just toss the stuff in the bowl without taking the time to cream the butter or separate the egg yolks from the whites, or dial the oven to four million degrees to bake their cookies because their impatient and don't wanna deal with the stuff. While you have the chance of getting something edible out of this method (Except the oven the only thing you'll get out that is Charcoal) you're not going to get anything Good. You get what you put into to the dish. Don't be frustrated that it feels tedious and slow. That's good! Accuracy over Speed. You'll get faster as you gain confidence... and possibly find something to occupy those loose wandering thoughts as you chop and stir. Might I suggest music or a Good audiobook in these trying times? Step the Second- Measure twice, pour once. But don't be afraid if you still mess up anyway. It works in carpentry it works here too. If you're not certain don't be afraid to keep the Cookbook or Tablet right in front of your face at all times. If you've got too much or the wrong thing you can recover, it's not suddenly unusable if you scoop out too much Sugar or Flour. You'll be a little in uncharted territory if you end up putting too much of one or the other in but if you think about what you've added you can usually correct it by simple logic. Too much spice? Add some bland-tasting dry stuff to mellow it out. Too dry now? a splash of wet stuff, wheter egg or milk or whatever will correct that too and vice versa if it's too wet. Really the only exception to this rule is levening agents like Powder or Soda or Yeast and that's mostly because too much of the stuff can effect the taste and texture as far as I know.

You can bake. Just like anything it requires practice.

[diamond-dangeresque]

Day 3 — Pact

1330AE, Jahai Bluffs

"Enjoying your trip, Slayer?" Valenze asks Chihiro, playful in her tone even as she strides amidst Branded Awakened and time-displaced anomalies. "Or do you only answer by Commander still?"

Chihiro catches up, thankful of the shimmering veil around the two. "Please, Preceptor," he says as a hand shoos away the idea of such formalities, "you can just call me Chihiro. Everyone does. Even Doern." He notes a Branded Awakened Soldier walk right by him; as he waves his hand in front of the mummy's face, the mummy's eyes sparkle for just a moment while the veil shimmers. He stops, looks around with weapons readied, then shrugs and continues his patrol route. "So! Why the interrogation and stalking? I know you were there at the Federation gathering in the fortress, and I know you were at the Chantry watching our Master and their Master wag words."

Valenze pauses, chewing on the question as she gazes around. She looks up to a tropical canopy line, the wavy image of a tower rising far above it, then towards the massive streak of Brand damage across the land ahead. Finally, she answers, "The Master of Whispers is concerned of your performance. She–" Her playful demeanor drops. She stops Chihiro from crossing further. A howl can be heard across the wind. Small purple dust devils streak through the Brandstorm, in their wake dropping more beings time-sheared and confused within the Bluffs. They pass, and the time-sheared individuals blink out. Her playful demeanor—really, a facade—returns. "Ah, apologies~ The weather here can be quite moody!"

"So I've seen." Chihiro senses the dust devils roll by, eventually fading into the Mists, perhaps to appear elsewhere at full strength. "So. The boss is concerned about me. How sweet."

Valenze's posture relaxes, guiding the Herald with but a motion of her staff towards a garrison. It sits distant, across the aisle of Brandstorm, but untouched by it. "Personally, I think you did alright during both conferences. You were not as attentive to the details of each meeting as another Agent or Lightbringer might be. But then, you weren't brought into these meetings merely to take notes and nod sagely."

No. No, he really wasn't. While the presence of the Commander is purely a diplomatic one, it always carried that lingering threat of total quashing should something go awry. Which it very much did. Several times. But in all times, diplomacy and safety of those present took precedence. And while Chihiro absolutely did not mind being Slayer within the Order of Whispers... "To be honest, I'm getting tired of all this."

Her eyebrows rise, further framing her unnaturally luminescent gaze. "Are you now? Your mental fatigue has a source?"

Chihiro sighs. He didn't want to talk about it. Bringing up painful memories again rarely does anything good. But he also knows that if he doesn't, Valenze would have zero hesitation cracking his skull open like an egg to sift answers like yolk from whites. And she was one of the few people out there who could bypass Glint's anti-mesmeric enchantments. He wanted to take no risks and have her seeing things she wasn't supposed to. Things she could take back to Riel. "I've been through so much now. I have family who's dead because of this stuff. A lover I see dying in front of my eyes in my nightmares. Friends whose lives are being threatened constantly. Hells, I died in the line of duty and that wasn't enough for the duty to stop."

"You know, most wouldn't look a particular gift horse in the mouth like that," Valenze half-teases, curious to no end about the Slayer's experiences in the afterlife but for now respecting Chihiro's grief about it, "but I understand that this job has been a toll onto you. It has onto us all."

"Hard to feel that solidarity when you've been specially targeted over and over."

"...I will acknowledge that particular antagonistic entities have taken a liking to making a target of you, but that's why the Order took such interest in you." Chihiro stops walking. Valenze almost steps out of the protective bubble from the Tablet, her only sign that something was amiss. Oh no. She didn't phrase that quite right. Valenze turns around, sees Chihiro's brow furled with a particular knot sitting in it. "Think about Demmi. Recall why we took her in as an Agent?"

A pause. Lightning crackles off of the air-magic barrier. "She was an in for the Mantle bullshit her dad was peddling, wasn't it?"

"Partially, yes," the Preceptor responds, motioning the Slayer/Commander to follow, "but also to protect her the only way we know how: through the veil of dark only we can uniquely provide." They didn't have much longer until the garrison was reached. "And in that similar way, we wanted to protect you. We simply recruited you sooner than we did Demmi Beetlestone." But we failed you, too, was her next thought; Valenze keeps that smothered in the back of her mind.

"So what, I've just been a charity case?" Chihiro asks. He palms Bolt's handle, the cool electricity a cold comfort to him. "Asset or Agent; what am I to you guys?"

"You can believe you were picked out due to your...unique circumstances, but no, that isn't true. You've earned your right to be here, just as Demmi did. After all, you learned of our Master's identity. We let you remember it. And you've been involved in every major attack not affiliated with the Pact, plus this escort to the old Chantry and the diplomatic intrafaction meeting." She sighs. "This is a reminder to you, Commander or Slayer or Yadora or however you wish to be referred to, that you are still valorous to our cause and still worthy. We can't even count the boons you've given to the Order through your service. The Master sees great potential in you. Don't let yourself be your worst enemy."

Chihiro laughs. The Brandstorm is finally behind them, warm Elonian sand under their feet once more. The words feel hollow to him. But then, pep talks rarely worked on him to begin with. It was hard to get attached to anybody when they could drop dead in front of you at any time. But from a sweet face like that of Riel Darkwater? Sure. That helps a little more. "Thanks. I guess."

"And thank you for the company kept." Chihiro lowers the bubble and recalls Ventari, whistling to summon the echo of Zunraa by his side and mounting him. Valenze begins walking towards the garrison's walls, her protective veil pulling from Chihiro as he sees the shimmering fade, though she stops and turns around to give the Slayer one last look. "You have your business with Elonian contacts; I have mine, away from the eyes of both our bosses."

"From the Master of Shadows or from me?" Chihiro asks, tugging on Zunraa'a reins to keep him steady.

Valenze giggles. "You're free to think about what that means." She turns around and begins her walk again, Branded Awakened remaining oblivious as she strolls by them.

[agent-yolk]

35 for spotify!

Metalite - Peacekeepers

[mstexalicious1961]

DOTK

devotion by Kesha Trippett

Oil and Vinegar

"Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony" Colossians 3:14, NLT.

When you bring oil and vinegar together in one container, they won't mix. Not only will they not mix, but the oil will begin to float to the top. Have you ever had someone that you just didn't get along with? No matter how much you tried, they could blink and you find yourself annoyed. Personality clashes are nothing new. They exist in the work environment, in our homes, schools, churches, and communities. On a daily basis, we can encounter people we feel are difficult to love.

When it comes to oil and vinegar, we find the only thing that can cause them to mix is an emulsifier. It is the agent that contains special compounds that wrap around the molecules in oil and causes them to bond with the water molecules in vinegar. For example, soap and egg yolk are both well-known emulsifiers. These are both outside agents that are used to bring two very different substances together. If you were to sit and wait for vinegar to produce emulsifier-like qualities on it's own, you will never see it. If you were to sit and wait for oil to produce emulsifying-like qualities on it's own, you will never see it. It's not part of their nature to accomplish this end result.

Likewise, if you are trying to produce the ability to love your co-worker on your own, you're going to get frustrated very quickly! It's not in our own ability to love unconditionally like God. We need an outside Agent. God's love is the great emulsifying agent we use when our love walk is being challenged. On our own, our love is conditional, pitiful, and comes with strings attached, but God's love is strong and is tough like glue. His love can bring two very different people together that wouldn't normally get along.

When God's love gets to working in our hearts, over time, we find ourselves loving like God loves. How does He love? Well, He loves us despite our flaws. He loves us even when we mess up. He loves us when we are having a bad day. He loves us even when we forget to pray. There's nothing that can make Him stop loving us. It is this kind of unconditional love that is poured out into our hearts that brings us to our knees in thanks. God's amazing love working in your heart can cause you to get to know someone first before judging them. His love can help you put yourself in someone else's shoes. God's love in your heart can help you be understanding, rather than annoyed. Today, He will show you more about how to love His way.

Prayer: Father God, I want to love the way you love. On my own, my love is conditional, pitiful, and comes with strings attached. But I thank you that you've poured your amazing love on my heart by your Holy Ghost so I can be more merciful and compassionate towards those who really could use it. Lord, help me love like you. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.

[agent-yolk-writes]

Fanfiction Year in Review Meme

Figure I'd do something different for 2021. Hopefully I can remember what I did this year. Technically I'm supposed to be tagged and tag someone else, but alas I got no one to tag

What is your total word count for the year?

I made a lot of WIPs that I'm sure counted for a lot of words, but in terms of actual posting via AO3 I calculated that my post word count is just a little over 19k.

What fandoms did you write in this year?

A lot of Obey Me as well as Pokemon SwSh (for a zine piece), ITSV/Venom, Fate (obviously), a tiny thing for Godzilla S.P., and Jojo (both fic update and zine piece). I've been messing around with a few crossover ideas for Obey Me, one included a tokusatsu/superhero au (think Ultraman, maybe?) and another that included nightmare on elm street. I'm confident to post at least the first chapter(?) of the NoES.

I, uh, got into horror movies these year...mostly slashers set in the DbD universe despite never playing it. Maybe that's how I got that Nightmare idea? Idk. Maybe because Dead Meat remade their Friday the 13th kill counts this year I grew fond of Jason. Let's see if I can churn out something I like. Oh! I also began drafting an idea for a Jujutsu Kaisen/Chainsaw Man idea that's both reader insert and...smut. It might be a while before that comes out.

Did you write more, less, or roughly about what you expected?

I'm surprised I wrote a lot this year. I managed to bring out my first long fic out of temporary stasis and if it wasn't for my shitty ass job wasting most of my time and the fact I don't have access to my go to writing place (aka my college library, which is far away), I'd have more chapters of that.

But my ITSV/Venom fic requires less brain cells as it's honestly good dumb fun. People have been really enjoying it and vocalize how excited they are for the next chapter. Oooh, I have such big plans but not enough time for that fic.

What’s your own favorite story of this year?

Friends Like You and Us, definitely. As I mentioned, it's good dumb fun for everyone involved. It mashed my two favorite hyperfixations together as my love for MCU practically diminishes. But I always had a soft spot for Spider-Man and Venom so they can stay for as long as they like.

What is your most underappreciated story of the year?

I Think My Sister is Up to Something. Despite all the enabling and feedback from my friends when I was throwing around ideas, I don't really get that much engagement and I'm really sad about that. Having Rin did silly hijinks, revealing the reroll roster chapter by chapter, dropping clues as to who or what Sakura is with...I'm essentially talking to a wall as I am every day. I did, however, commission something to draw Suzuka in the FSN school uniform, so I'm taking that as a W

What’s your most appreciated story of 2021?

In terms of fan engagement outside of ITSV/Venom, definitely, You're My Dad! Boogie Woogie Woogie! Probably because of the Diavolo simps lol. I do have a Type(tm) and Diavolo definitely is that, and yet I made a 180 turn and projected my ideals onto him. Whoopsie. But hey, if the other OM stans enjoyed it than it worked out just fine.

Biggest fanfic related disappointment of 2021?

I Think My Sister is Up To Something. For obvious reasons. Maybe my SwSh zine piece for lack of engagement as well.

Biggest fanfic related surprise of 2021?

Definitely the Diavolo fic since I got a notification that someone put it in their private collection of Feel Good fics when they're down. That warmed my heart.

Something you are looking forward to working on in 2022?

Doing more writing, doing more posting, maybe start doing headcanons again. I hope in the future I can get accepted into more zines as a writer, maybe even a guest writer. I also want to do a fic collab with a friend, it's been a long time since I've done that kind of thing. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll remember to participate in NaNoWriMo

[the-smut-mongerer]

The Marshall- PT. 1

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚒𝚖 and 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢. 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚋𝚢 @agent-yolk-writes 𝚙𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒�� 𝚏𝚒𝚌! 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚝 𝟹 :)

𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚔𝚘𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚒𝚖, 𝚖𝚒𝚔𝚘, 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚔𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 + 𝚏𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜: 𝚘𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚜, 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚝, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚌𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚎, 𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚊𝚎𝚕𝚎, 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜!, 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚑𝚎/𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜

𝚏𝚎𝚖/𝚏𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍,(𝚜𝚑𝚎/𝚑𝚎𝚛)(𝚜𝚑𝚎/𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢) 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚎 & 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝙼𝙻𝙼, 𝙽𝙱𝙼𝙻𝙼, 𝚎𝚝𝚌 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜, 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒'𝚖 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞♡

After the recent Kaiju attack, one of the more brutal ones left your jaeger without an arm and cracked open helm, but no dead pilot thankfully. The Jeager Program finally gave you a 2-week vacation as a sorry.

At least you finally have a chance to see your little sisters. You haven't seen her since you saw her off to her new school and that was a year or so ago. You wondered if she was still the chaotic little girl she is.

Now you wait for her out of school, in causal clothes to not raise any eyebrows of the other waiting parents. You also had a duffle bag filled with little trinkets from your missions not exactly legal but you'll most likely get away with it.

When the school bell rings Miko is the first one out the door running as if she's being chased.

She screams with joy when she sees you, running up to you and giving you an absolute bear hug, she may be a little girl but damn she's got a grip.

"Your finally back!! Have you killed any big monsters?! I bet you have killed so many—" You slap a hand over Mikos's mouth, to stop her from saying more as you get side-glances from others.

"There's a time and place Miko- and school isn't one of them!" You whispered-yell. Miko's eyes lit up, yanking your hand off her face and saying something along the lines of 'I know a place!' Before dragging you off to a green car and pushing you into the passenger's seat while she got in the driver.

"Miko, who's car is this?? You better not be underaged driving or I swear—"

"No! This is Bulkhead, he's like a massive talking robot but they're called cybertronian, Bulkhead this is my big bro he fights big and scary monsters."

"Uhhh...Hi?"

"Howdy? The names (Y/N) thanks for taking care of this chaotic little shit over here. I hope she hasn't caused y'all too much trouble but question, how did you...cybertronians get on this planet? Especially undetected."

Bulkhead begins to recite the past months on the Earth as he drives to God's know where. Miko pitches in a few times telling off some battles she's seen. You nod along as you stare out the window.

You perk up when he says Agent Fowler, you know that last name, his sister was one of your mechanics for some time being getting discharged. She was a nice person to hang around.

You drift off into your thoughts while tuning into the very complex situation now and then.

----

Upon reaching the base, you were expecting there to be more of them but they seem to be a strong team if they held out against that army Bulkhead mentioned.

Stepping out of the robot, you look around at your surroundings seeing 5 different cybertronian all in varying colors and sizes. You also see 2 human boys as well. Miko jumps excitedly out of the car, shouting to gain everyone's shouting to gain their attention. You were more focused on the fact you saw damn car transformers into a robot. You mumble a 'holy shit', before turning back to what Miko was saying when she points at you.

"This is my older bro, (Y/N) he fights huge aft monsters! And he fights them in a huge robot too!! Raptor- his Jeager has a kill count of 10!"

You let a low sigh and facepalm internally, "That was supposed to be classified information Miko, but considering this is also one of the government's other dirty little secrets I suppose there's no need for hiding it. Anyway, I'm (Y/N) (L/N), a Marshall of the Pan Pacific Defense Corps, aka PPDC, I pilot the Mark-3 Raptor Jeager, basically, I fight monsters for a living. If you have any questions or concerns go ahead and ask now if Miko hasn't told you everything already."

[leo-gold-hotchner]

Side blow

Hi, I’ve been so busy lately. And I’m sorry to say this, but I might upload once in a while like this for now.

Aaron Hotchner X G.N. Reader (with Jack)

F/N: Your first name

D/M: Dad or Mum 

When you entered the dining room, you heard breathless cackling from your husband and Jack’s annoyed growl. You rolled your eyes as you approached your boys to see what they were up to this time.

You couldn't help but a chuckle escaping your lips as you saw Jack’s state. You tried to hide under your hand, but your body was trembling like Aaron’s.

“I’m gonna get you next time!” Jack pointed his finger at his father frustratingly.

The teenager’s face was covered in flour and egg. All white and yellow mixed together, thickly trickling down from his face to his upper torso, dipping into his blue shirt.

Meanwhile, Aaron was laughing too much, enjoying his son’s annoyance very much while celebrating his victory in the father-son prank war.

“You know, I’m okay with you guys having fun and all. But you will have to clean all the messes.” You commented as you observed that the dining table area was covered in snow-like flour.

“Of course,” Aaron grinned. “Jack will do it either before or after showering.”

“Why me?” Jack muttered as he used his arms to clean his face.

“Because you lost, son,” Aaron replied matter-of-factly.

“You will help Jack clean up,” you put your hands on your sides. Aaron looked at you perplexed. “You two made the mess. The two of you will clean it up,” you said in a no-more-discussion tone. “Together.”

Jack grinned at his dad with triumph, and Aaron scoffed in annoyance.

Leaning on the bench, you watched your husband and son keep playing a game of theirs from the kitchen. This time, they were outside, sitting under the shadow of clouds in the backyard. Your jaw dropped when a spout of water hit Jack’s face mercilessly from the ground. And again, Aaron was laughing like an idiot. The father walked back home, still snickering. Jack looked like a drowned mouse as he followed his father back with a long face.

“I don’t know why you keep doing this,” you shook your head. “And I don’t even want to know.”

Jack grumbled under his breath about ‘next time’.

“C’mon, Jack. Shower again. Lunch will be ready then.”

You opened the fridge and blinked at the decreased number of eggs. You were sure you had 5 eggs while you were making lunch. Now it only had 4 eggs. You were pretty sure you had 5, because you were thinking about going grocery shopping.

Then, CRACK.

With a deep sigh, you whirled around and looked at the backyard. Again?

Yellow yolk on Jack’s forehead and small pieces of the eggshell.

“You’re too slow, son,” Aaron grinned as he held his hand and entered the kitchen. “What?” He shrugged innocently as you stared at your husband.

“You really should stop this.”

“It’s called a father-son bonding time.”

“I’ve never heard of father-son bonding time where a father cracking an egg on his son’s face,” you said drily. Aaron gave you a pretty smile. “Just don’t go over the line, will you?”

“Of course, an FBI agent knows not to go over the line.”

Aaron disappeared from the kitchen to plot whatever prank he could think of.

“I beg to differ,” you mumbled with a snort.

You yawned as you walked up to your room. You weren’t sure if you should be tired or laugh at the prank war between Aaron and Jack. Aaron was obviously winning, keeping the score, as you had been hearing Jack’s frustrated screams every minute since the morning.

“D/M!” Jack called you from downstairs. 

You heard quick footsteps. You wondered what the boy was up to now.

Before you could comprehend what was happening, your entire body was soaked in cold water. A green basket hit your head, but in shock, your head felt no pain.

“F/N?” Your husband called worriedly, touching your shoulder tentatively.

You gritted your teeth as your body started to shiver in the cold. Anger coursed through your body as you looked at the wet floor.

“Since yesterday,” your voice lowered, “I let you two prank around the house.” Aaron and Jack gulped. “And I didn’t say anything. I thought the two of you would be responsible enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Aaron quickly said, “I thought it’d be fun including you in this. I should’ve been a responsible adult not to surprise you with this sort of prank.”

You knew Aaron Hotchner. You knew your husband. He wouldn’t DARE set a trap upstairs, especially in their room. And yet he was lying to you. You looked at your son pointedly, and he looked at you guiltily, shuffling his feet and hands together.

“It was me, D/M. I thought I’d get dad by setting a trap above the door. I’m sorry.” Jack said honestly.

“I won’t ask who did this,” you crossed your arms over your chest, “but upstairs is now prohibited from your so-called prank war, understood?”

Aaron and Jack nodded quickly, not wanting to anger you further by complaining.

“Jack take the basket away,” you pointed at the basket, “Aaron, bring out a fan. I don’t think the carpet will dry anytime soon,” you said drily.

Jack quickly ran down with the basket while Aaron stood there staring at you.

“What?” You huffed.

“Can I join the shower?”

“You’re grounded, Mr Hotchner. Lying for Jack?” Aaron smiled innocently, and you narrowed your eyes. “No,” you held your finger. “I’m still angry. Bring the fan, now.”

“But I can still kiss you, right?” Aaron asked worriedly, giving you puppy eyes.

“Bring the fan, then I’ll think about it.”

Aaron grinned and went downstairs to retrieve a fan.

[gospelofme]

Familiar Face

*secret invasion spoilers below*

Fury sat alone in the booth. The diner was clearing out. The breakfast rush was nearing an end and Betty’s Place wasn’t the brunch scene. He picked at his cold eggs and ate a bit more, but truthfully he wasn’t hungry. He was just going through the motions. Feeding his body because he knew it needed energy.

Maria. Gone. She had been so loyal to him and it killed him to think she blamed him in the end. He told himself that was bullshit, that he didn’t shoot her…but still…Her death replayed in his mind every moment. At night, he laid awake and went through every scenario in which he could’ve saved her…and Talos. Talos who had been an enemy, and then a friend. Talos who was so sure that Earth would accept him and his people. He was trusting, pure, hopeful. Everything Fury wished he was. And he was gone too.

“Uhhh, just a black coffee and the breakfast sampler please.”

That voice. Fury’s heart stopped and his blood ran cold. No. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t. G’iah said she had followed through with the funerary rites. He was gone.

“Fury!” The voice said jovially. He kept his eyes fixed on a cold piece of hash brown.

“Hey!” The voice repeated. Fury looked up, shock plastered on his face. That face. Those eyes. That smile. That voice.

The man slid onto the bench across from him. Fury stared, jaw dropping just a bit.

“It’s me.”

No it’s not…it can’t be, Fury thought to himself.

“Keller!” R. Keller, former Director of S.H.I.E.LD looked absolutely delighted to see him. Fury’s heart hurt. It wasn’t his friend, not really. He had liked Keller, but he had liked Talos more. Honestly, Talos had taken Keller’s form for so long, they were one and the same to Fury. He had forgotten that Talos’s disguise had been a mask.

“Hey!” Fury’s cheerful reply sounded so real.

“How is retirement?” He followed up, Keller looking relieved Fury remembered him.

“It’s been good. Lots of traveling. Golf. It’s nice. How have you been? It’s been…what? 30 years give or take?” Keller replied, thanking the waitress for the coffee that was soon delivered to the table.

“Yeah just about. Uh, I’m still alive.” Fury said with a smirk. That reply seemed to satisfy his old boss. Keller’s food soon followed the coffee, the two catching up. Fury was genuinely glad to see someone from the good ol’ days. But he couldn’t help pretending it was Talos he was talking to. Talos that was putting salt and pepper on his eggs and ketchup on his hash browns. Talos that popped the egg yolk and dipped his toast into it. Fury stared at Keller, sadness in his eyes as the other man talked about a cruise he and his wife had just returned from.

“We got a room with a balcony, which was awesome. It was so nice to just sit out there and relax. We saw whales! The food was fabulous. I am not a boat guy, as you know, but it was worth it.” Keller’s hand gestures were so much like Talos. Talos had watched Keller and had adopted his mannerisms. It was like watching his friend.

“Yeah, I remember the last time I was on a boat with you. You had your head over the side the whole time!” Fury laughed, a real honest laugh. Keller joined in.

“Well that was because the boat was going so fast! It was bouncing on the waves!” Keller’s hand moved like a bouncing boat.

“Well that’s because we were going after drug smugglers!” Fury replied with a smile, sipping his ice cold coffee.

The two continued to reminiscence. Keller finishing his food. The waitress brought both checks, Keller swiping Fury’s up.

“I got this buddy.” He said, handing the checks to waitress with his credit card, which was returned moments later. Fury convinced Keller to let him get the tip as his old boss’s looked at his cell.

“Oh, that’s the wife. Bethany had a meeting with her agent. She’s publishing another book.” Keller informed Fury, who gave an approving nod.

“She is done and is…right there.” Keller said, looking out the window as a white Honda CRV pulled into the parking lot. A woman waved at them from behind the steering wheel. Keller gave a wave back and stood up, Fury standing with him.

“Well, I have to head out. We’re driving out to the cabin.” Keller said, holding out a hand. Fury ignored the hand and pulled his former boss in for a hug. He tried to convey everything he had wanted to say to Talos in that hug.

“Forgive me old friend.” He whispered. He couldn’t help it.

“Pardon?” Keller replied, he seemed amused at the act of affection from the ever stoic Fury.

“Just…forgive me for not reaching out more. To catch up ya know. We should do this again.” Fury replied.

“Agreed, you should come up to the cabin at some point. I’ll send you the address.”

The two exchanged numbers, Fury admitting he had lost Keller’s number during one of the many times his phone had been destroyed.

Fury then watched as his friend walked out of the diner and to his wife. The two exchanged a kiss and Fury watched as they began a conversation. He couldn’t tell what was being said, but he imaged Talos smiling instead of Keller. Fury left the diner a moment later, once the CRV had left, and walked down the busy city street.

[castillon02]

Mission Report: Felix the Egg Troll (Headcanon)

Felix knew exactly what James liked to eat. On missions that allowed the time, he found restaurants that served the perfect beef brizzola, garlicky spaghetti bolognese, or fresh crab with rich butter and thick toast, for example.

AFTER missions, on the other hand...

“I know you know how to make scrambled eggs,” Bond said. Another look at the little plate in Felix’s hand seemed to give him the energy to heave himself into an upright position on the bed. “I showed you the last three times I was over here.”

“You mean you don’t want a dry, rubbery, lumpy scrambled egg with enormous chunks of green onions?” Felix asked innocently. “And you’d prefer buttery soft scrambled eggs with finely chopped chives?”

“Yes,” Bond said, glaring at Felix through one eye, the other closed and crusty because he’d taken some train shrapnel to the face.

“Too bad!” Felix said. He smiled at Bond. “Agents who do stupid shit on missions get stupid shit eggs to eat for breakfast. You’re lucky I only cooked you one.” It was only luck, too, that had caused Case to switch sides to haul Bond’s ass out of trouble, luck and Bond’s ability to make connections. It was only a hunch that had put Felix in his car and out in the desert so he could find them and drive them to safety.

Bond’s hand, trembling, rose up from the mattress just enough to flip Felix off.

“Oh, I see you’d rather have Cinnamon Toast Crunch,” Felix said, suppressing a grin. Bond would be fine.

Bond wrinkled his nose, but he paused and seemed to think about it, which was incredible considering Bond’s disdain for sugary American everything. “I’ll eat the eggs,” he said, and he grabbed for the plate.

Felix yanked it away. “Oh, no, no,” he said, smiling some more. “You’re injured. Come on, James, here comes the choo choo...” He motored a forkful of egg towards James’s face.

“I’ll chew your cock off, you assh--mmmph.” Bond swallowed. He shuddered dramatically. “You didn’t even salt them. It would have been kinder to leave me to the tender mercies of the sun,” he said.

“You can have salt on your eggs when you can lift the salt shaker,” Felix said. This time he did grin, and then he dodged to avoid Bond’s vengeful lunge.

Bond’s teeth clicked in the spot where Felix’s arm had been. The movement made Bond cradle his bruised torso, but his mouth upturned at the corners and his eyes sparked with challenge when they met Felix’s.

In the ensuing scuffle, the offending scrambled egg got knocked to the floor.

“I planned for this,” Felix informed him. He ducked out of the room, fetched the plate he’d left in the kitchen, and presented two sunny-side up eggs with bacon twisted into a frown underneath. He’d punctured the yolk of one of the eggs to match Bond’s injured eye.

Bond laughed.

Was this the sweet care that Bond would have received from Case, from a woman who would fuss and dote? No. But Felix had a feeling that Bond wouldn’t want to recover anywhere else.