perfectly toasted

anonymous asked:

Women's day today. Mulder should do something nice for Scully. :)

He brings her breakfast in bed: a perfectly toasted English muffin with the nice imported butter and the good coffee, made in the French press instead of the regular machine.  There are cut-up strawberries too.  Folded neatly under the plate is the New York Times crossword, untouched, with a mechanical pencil and a pen, so that she has options.  She takes her time with it, letting him rest his chin on her shoulder.  He doesn’t offer help with any of the clues.

He lets her drive them to work.  She weaves neatly in and out of traffic as they listen to NPR.  He doesn’t even say a word about the way she adjusts the mirrors.  They’ve delineated their own neutral territories over the years.  

He takes her out to lunch, away from the files and the corpses, to the place she likes that does great soups and salads.  They linger, smiling at each other over cups of tea.  

He listens to every single thing she says, which he usually does, but he does it with a special air of attentiveness, especially in the presence of other people.  Especially in the presence of other men.  She appreciates that.  

They go to the gym together.  Mulder looks very fetching in his “Nevertheless, she persisted” shirt.  Scully wears red.  They run side by side on the treadmills and make their way through the circuit of machines.  He drives home through the rush hour traffic.  She holds his hand and looks out the window as they listen to Fresh Air.  

They cook dinner together.  She sears the pork chops as he throws together a salad.  They eat at the table, not on the couch, and discuss their days, the hours that they were apart, the things they thought that they weren’t able to share at the time.

He draws her a bath, hot and deep and frothy with bubbles.  She sinks into the lavender-scented water.  When she emerges, he wraps her in warm towels and rubs her feet .  She sighs in a happy haze.  When she’s limp with pleasure, he hands her his Knicks t-shirt to sleep in, fresh and clean, and they curl up together in the bed.  She runs her hands over him and he presses himself against her.  They move together in a rhythm that suits them both.  

She falls asleep in his arms.

What I Think Seiyuu Sound Like:

Showtaro Morikubo: Perfectly toasted marshmallows 

Kenichi Suzumura: When the scissors glide through the paper

Junichi Suwabe: Wearing new silk underwear for the first time 

Tomoaki Maeno: Early autumn mornings

Mamoru Miyano: When someone plucks a piano key in dead silence 

Tetsuya Kakihara: The feeling of something tickling your ear 

Kosuke Toriumi: An acoustic guitar played by a master 

Tatsuhisa Suzuki: When you didn’t realize that it snowed last night 

Hiroshi Kamiya: Opening the soda can

KENN: Midnight walks 

Hikaru Midorikawa: when you get paired up with your crush for the assignment


Just glazed this baby today! None of the colors on here are true to glaze so he should hopefully come out looking like a perfectly toasted marshmallow

Recipe of the Day: Perfect Burger        

Fire up the grill! Bobby’s go-to burger hinges on perfectly melted cheese, toasted buns and a simple seasoning of just salt and pepper.        

[I fail ] ….a lot, always and rather constantly. Too much to mention in detail. Life is not an either-or situation or a success-failure situation. We’re all a bit successful and a bit failed. The egg was cooked perfectly but the toast was burned. I’m a Wabi-Sabi sort of person I hope. Wabi-Sabi; the lovely Japanese idea about aesthetics that sees true beauty in the qualities of imperfection, incompleteness and impermanence. The beauty of the worn and well-loved thing. I failed badly with my formal education but the sky did not fall in - in fact the clouds parted and the sun came out.


His response when asked if he ever fails,


Chandra Week: Flames of the Firebrand

Precise multi-enemy missile control like Iron Man, but much prettier, miss Nalaar can burn eyebrows off a grumpy opponent from three hundred yards.

Dating Chandra has ups and downs.  Your coffee is never cold, your bread is always perfectly toasted.  Marshmallows are a perfect crispy golden brown.  Icy feet under the covers is not an issue.  But you will have to live with occasional singed hair, and you’ll absolutely need to invest in fireproof pillows.

What’s in a Name?

“Why did you name me Levi?” the android wants to know as he pushes a plate of perfectly crisp toast towards Erwin. Erwin, whose toaster had never quite been the same since the Great Power Outage of ‘09, is impressed. It was certainly no small feat. 

“I rewired Russell Hobbs,” Levi explains at Erwin’s look. “The machine that cooks bread.” 

“I believe you mean a toaster,” Erwin says as he takes a bite. It is refreshing, to not have the taste of char in his mouth this early in the morning. 

“Its name is Russell.” Levi is adamant. “And you have not answered my inquiry.” 

“Russell is the brand name of the toaster,” Erwin explains patiently. “The toaster itself does not have a name. And I named you Levi because it was the first name I saw after I put you together.” 

Levi eyes him as suspiciously as he can, and Erwin pays him no mind as he finishes up the toast. 

The instant he walks through the door, he finds several pairs of his jeans strewn all over the house, the tag name facing blatantly out. 

“You named me after a pair of pantaloons,” Levi says, eyes glowing a demonic sort of red. Erwin fears for his life. “I will promptly restore myself to factory settings if you do not rechristen me this instant.” 

Levi bears the name Betty (Erwin’s thoughts had been on the Betty Crocker mix he had in his pantry, and how he would be demolished by his defective housekeeping android before he got to make the Rich Peanut Butter Cookies of which he was quite fond) for about a week, before he grows tired of it and switches back to Levi.