sandwich plate

The Five Times Bucky Picks You

Word Count: 2,084

Warnings: None.

A/N: Something quick I whipped up because my brain is too tired to write any series. Enjoy :D 

Originally posted by duckybarness

The first time Bucky picks you, you’re sitting at your dining room table, biology book opened as you try to draw a diagram of a plant cell. You have a half-eaten sandwich sitting on your plate beside the book and you take a bit, absently chewing as you frown at your paper. The proportions are all wrong and these are just notes, they shouldn’t be something you worry about, but here you are, erasing the cell wall for the fifth time and trying to be accurate this time around.

Being in honors classes, you’re pressured to do your best and graduate top of your eighth-grade class. Your parents beam with pride when they tell their friends that you’re doing so well in school, and you want to keep them looking that way for as long as you can.

There’s a knock to your door and your mom calls out your name. “Bucky’s here!” she says.

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Easy poor student sandwich maker recipe.

Sandwich makers with removable plates are really versatile tools for people without the proper cooking equipment or energy/time required to cook. They’re compact little appliances that you fill with ingredients, close for a few minutes, and open to a hot meal. They seal the sides of a sandwich to keep all of the fillings inside, like an Uncrustable. If you don’t have a sandwich maker, you can make this recipe on the stove, just fry each side of the sandwich like you would for a grilled cheese, but it won’t seal the insides so be careful when eating with some of the variations.


  • egg
  • slice of american cheese (or any type of cheese you have on hand, soy cheese for those with restricted diets)
  • salt and pepper
  • water (or milk)
  • turkey bacon (or really any type of meat)
  • sandwich bread



  1. Heat up sandwich maker with the triangular plates.
  2. Place bacon or other meat on it to cook for a few minutes.
  3. Whisk egg with salt, pepper, and a tablespoon of water as if you were making scrambled eggs.
  4. Dip one side of each slice of bread in the egg mixture.
  5. Remove bacon from plates.
  6. Place one slice egg side down on the hot plates.
  7. Tear up bacon and place on top with cheese.
  8. Top with second piece of bread, egg side up.
  9. Close sandwich maker and let it cook for 5-7 minutes until golden brown.
  10. Enjoy.

Tip: if you have extra egg, pour it in one of the dips of the sandwich maker, close the lid, and cook it for 3-ish minutes. You’ll have a nice fluffy side of eggs!


Bread dipped in egg is a great addition to any sandwich because you hardly taste it but it adds more texture and protein. Here are some other things you can fill the egg-bread with, in order from less to more energy needed to cook them.

  • just plain american cheese or cheddar (grilled cheese)
  • peanut butter and jelly
  • jam
  • nutella
  • diced canned fruits like peaches
  • honey and canned fruit
  • canned pie filling
  • nutella and banana
  • nutella and mini-marshmallows (s'mores!)
  • no filling, just dip both sides of the bread in egg, cook as usual, and sprinkle with powdered sugar once cooled (french toast)
  • fried or scrambled egg (egg-ception)
  • fried or scrambled egg with bacon or another meat and hashbrowns (straight up breakfast)
  • cooked ground beef and cheese (hamburger)
  • cooked ground beef, taco seasoning, and shredded cheese - dip in salsa (tacos)

The possibilities are endless!

Harmony Challenge-

I was challenged by @littleneko1923 to write a drabble based off this (x) post. It’s not long, but here you go. 

Harry made his way through the throng of students in the cafeteria to his usual table. He wasn’t surprised to see Hermione already sitting there, vaguely pulling apart her sandwich. She was staring off into the distance and it didn’t take long for Harry to see what she was staring at; Ron and Lavender.

“You know, that sandwich probably tastes better when it’s all put together.” Harry said as he sat down.

Hermione turned and smiled at him. She looked down at the sandwich scattered across her plate and frowned, but continued picking it apart.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Harry pushed his own food around and stared at the top of his best friend’s head. Her curls shielded her face from him, but he suspected she was still frowning.

“I’m a piece of trash Harry.” Hermione said, then immediately blushed at her uncensored words.  

“Well, as someone who cares deeply about the environment, I am obligated to pick you up.” Harry said without missing a beat. Hermione was now staring at him with wide eyes and a pink blush across her cheeks. “Is seven okay?” He finished with a smile.

A laugh was startled out of Hermione. “You smooth fucker.” She said between laughs. Harry kept his eyes trained on her, but his smile became a bit strained. “That was good, I’ll give you that, but I don’t want a pity date.” she reached across the table and put her hand over his.

Harry licked his lips and looked down at her hand, then back up at her. Without breaking her gaze, he flipped his hand over and laced their fingers together. “It wouldn’t be a pity date.” Hermione gasped softly and her blush was back. “It’s not very easy finding a way to ask your best friend on a date. You can say no, it won’t change our friendship.” He finished and rubbed his thumb lightly over her knuckles.

A slow grin spread across Hermione’s face. “As someone who is also deeply cares about the environment, I agree that you should pick me up. Seven sounds perfect.”

Harry’s joyous laugh rang through the busy cafeteria.


You slowly head down into Tony’s lab, one hand carrying a plate of sandwiches whilst the other has a tight grip on the handrail. When you reach the bottom, you let go of the railing and place the hand under your heavy bump, easing the pressure on your body a little. 

“Was your nap sufficient, Mrs Stark?” JARVIS’ voice asks. Ever since you’d found out you were pregnant, the AI had become very protective of you, making sure your every need was met and that you were as comfortable as could be. 

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anonymous asked:

So how are things going at the cafe, Bitter? Did you end up doing that delivery thing like you said?

Yep, that’s a thing now! Wingdin has me deliver most’a the small catering orders - y’know, a couple plates’a sandwiches for an office lunch, or a box’a cupcakes for a birthday party or namin’ ceremony.

It’s good, honest work, an’ it’s helpin’ me get out more despite my Agoraphobia, which Dr. Kirkland says is a real good step for me. Long as I can keep my helmet on, I’m usually fine.

Okay, what about..

Almost everybody in crew is celebrating Christmas. And they are celebrating it in the safe house. Giving each other presents, having fun etc.

And then there’s Sokol just sitting there in the corner like

”My time will come” 

‘cause we celebrate New Year like that, not Christmas

And then… On December 31 they find Sokol sitting there with a huge bowl of Olivier salad, a bottle of champagne, a big pile of tangerines and a plate of sandwiches with caviar by his side

 religiosly watching some old Soviet movies on his phone

and sobbing

And everybody’s like

“What’s wrong with that Russian?”

a lil domestic!luke blurb

“Made grilled cheese,” You heard Luke mumble from where he was standing in the kitchen. It was early afternoon, but you guys had honestly gotten up not long ago. You had done the laundry, and Luke was making you guys some food.

“Is it burnt?” You laughed, walking over next to him near the stove. “Just a bit, I know you like it like that.” Giggling at his words, you nodded as you watched him place the sandwiches on the plates next to him. “It’s hot,” He mumbled when he saw you pick up the plate. Ignoring his words, you still picked up the sandwich and picked off the crumbs off the edge.

“Ah,” You muttered, quickly dropping the food back onto your plate. “Told you,” You could hear the smile on your boyfriend’s mouth without looking at him. “Shut up, I just really want to eat.”

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The Art of Letting (You) Go.

I took a sip of the strawberry smoothie in front of me, my eyes wandering about behind the dark, large rimmed sunglasses I wore as if I was trying to play incognito when in reality, I was just trying to block the heavy sun that was shining down on me.

Of course my brother had insisted we sit on the outside patio of this café even if it meant people could walk by and take pictures of us. I was just hoping they didn’t. I wasn’t in the mood to entertain strangers today.

I began stabbing at the salad on my plate while Gerard took a large (and messy) bite out of the sandwich he had ordered. “So…have you seen Fernando’s new girlfriend?”

As soon as his name inserted into the conversation, Geri dropped his sandwich back to his plate and groaned, sitting back in his chair as he looked at me while chewing away his food before speaking. “So that’s why you invited me out? You can’t ever just want to see me without being a nosy…”

Knowing the word that would next follow, my eyebrow rose and I cocked my head to the side as if challenging him to sayit. He cowered in his seat instead. “…Woman.”

“Just answer the question, Geri. I don’t have time for this.”

“No. I have not seen his new girlfriend,” he said with a defeated sigh. “The last time I saw him was at dinner with the guys a few weeks ago. We weren’t talking about girlfriends or anything.”

I could remember vividly the times I accompanied Fernando out to dinners and parties and other venues. It was like we never left each other’s side. Now? We were exes that never even spoke to each other. I didn’t know when our relationship had taken such a harsh turn. Something told me it was at the point where I took a job he didn’t want me to take but maybe our relationship was falling apart much before that time. Two years was a long time to put up with someone.

“Well just so you know she looks exactly like me. She’s walking around like my doppelgänger and no one has even said anything!”

My brother chuckled. “That’s probably because you two look nothing alike, sis.”

“That’s a lie. We have the same eye color, hair color. She even wears red lipstick just like me!” I pointed to the new shade of red I had tried on today but the thought of Fernando’s new muse walking around with the exact same color made me grab for the napkin on the table and wipe it away quickly.

“I’m sure you two look nothing alike and red lipstick is pretty popular I’ve heard.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. I should have known Gerard would be the last person to understand my side. He was oblivious to everything. The girl could practically be my clone and he wouldn’t even notice. “Right. Sure. Believe what you want but I’m going to find a lookalike for him too.”

“I doubt that’ll work out. There’s not many men in Spain who look like Fernando Torres.”

“You mean as handsome and charming with adorable freckles and those sparkling eyes and…”

“Yes,” he interrupted.

I could only roll my eyes. “Seriously?”

“Well we did have a poll in the lockers once on who the most handsome Spaniard was and I’ll let you know he was one of the top at the list.”

“You all are so gay for each other,” I chuckled.

“It’s so much easier giving compliments to the guys than the women in our lives. Give you all a compliment and it spins into ‘Oh, so I didn’t look good yesterday?’”

“Shakira did that, huh?”

“Yes,” he groaned.

I stirred the straw in my drink, absentmindedly letting the mixture of colors distract me before I jumped into the question I really wanted to ask. “Did he mention me?”


I gave my brother a sharp glare, hoping that answer would change into another. “Okay twice.”

“What did he say?”

“Not telling you.”


“I’m not telling you. Don’t you know guy code or anything? My conversation with my teammate will remain our conversation. You’re not included.” He began to push away the nearly empty plate in front of him and reached for the jacket sitting on the back of his chair.

“You have to tell me!” I pleaded.

“I have to get back to my wife and kids.” He stood up from his seat now and peered down at my frowning face.

“Oh yay. Happiness and love. Enjoy!” I spout sarcastically, rolling my eyes behind my designer shades. Geri just laughed, picking up his things before walking over and giving me a kiss to my forehead.

“See ya, sis.”

“Yeah yeah. What are brothers good for?”

“Everything!” he shouted before walking away.

I began to fumble through my bag and look for my wallet. Since I had been the one to suggest the lunch and promised my brother I would pay, it was my turn to do the treating. A vibrating phone in my purse got me distracted as I saw my best friend Mira’s name pop up on the screen.

I put the phone between my shoulder and cheek before answering with, “Hello.”

“Hey hey. How was lunch?”

“Terrible. Geri tells me absolutely nothing. Useless,” I grumbled.

She could only laugh. “Yeah well that’s your brother.”

“Unfortunately. What are you up to?” I refocused my attention from the wallet in my hand to my surroundings and just at the perfect time as I saw a familiar woman walking about just steps away and outside of the barriers of the restaurant patio. She wasn’t alone though. There was a young man by her side as well, his hand limp around her waist while his face nuzzled against her neck.

“Oh my…”

“What? What is it?” Mira questioned inquisitively.

“It’s her! Fernando’s girlfriend,” I hissed in a hushed tone. “She’s out with some guy.”

“What!? No way.”

“Yes. I know it’s her. It’s gotta be. That tacky outfit. It’s definitely her.” And okay, I was a bit jealous that this new woman had infiltrated the circle of trust and the role I once held with the beloved Torres but that didn’t have any influence on me calling her tacky.

She literally was.

“You have to tell him.”

“No. He’d never believe me. He’d probably tell me I’m just doing this to get him to break up with her or ruin his life or whatever other bogus excuse he could come up with.” For the moment I was glad I was wearing sunglasses, able to track the movements of the woman who was walking past and soon about to disappear from my eye sight.

“I think he’d believe you. You two were together for forever. There’s no way he’d think you’d do something like lie about his girlfriend cheating. He knows you better than that.”

“You’re lying.”

My mouth hung agape as I looked to Fernando in front of me, standing next to the door of his home as he had a bag in one hand and his phone in the other, ready to head off to the gym before he was intercepted by me. And I didn’t know why the hell I had decided to listen to Mira and come visit him to tell him I saw his precious little girlfriend strolling about town with another man because just as I thought, he didn’t believe a word I was saying.

“Why would I lie?”

“Because you want me back? I don’t know. I never know what’s going on in your head. That was the problem, remember?”

“My God, Torres. You really think I would do something like that? I’m not out to sabotage your relationship. I’m just warning you that your new girlfriend isn’t what you think she is.”

Fernando laughed. And not that amused, delightful laugh I loved to hear him emit because his prominent Adam’s apple would poke out but the bitter, ‘you’re full of shit’ laugh that made me cringe. “You’re not exactly what I thought you were either so seems like you’re even. Can I go now?”

I was feeling myself pleading now. “Why must we argue every time we see each other? Can’t we just be those sorts of exes that get along and hang out and move on with their lives while still being civil?”

“No. We have way too much history for that to even be possible. You know that. I know that so let’s not pretend.”

There was a lot to be settled between us like the fact I didn’t even really know the specific reason we had ended things and I don’t think Fernando did either. We just disbanded and found a way to ‘move on’ but it wasn’t really moving on at all. “So let’s put everything on the table. Let’s finish things,” I suggested.

“No. I’m not doing that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have the time.”

“That’s a lie. You have plenty of time.”

“How did this turn from my girlfriend cheating on me to us rehashing things?”

“We’re not rehashing anything. We’re just…laying everything out on the table for each other.”

I could tell he was giving it some thought because rather than trying to move around me and away from me he was just silently peering down at me. I stood there, not shying away from his gaze and waited for his answer.

“Fine but not today. We can meet up some time this week.”

A victorious smile spread my lips. “I’ll text you a time and place.”

“Yeah. Fine. I’m heading out.” But before Fernando took more than two steps forward, he stopped himself and looked at me curiously. “You’re not wearing red lipstick. Or any at all. Why?”

Internally, I was wielding a cocky smirk but I kept my expression on the outside emotionless. “It’s just not my style anymore.”

gif credit to dailyfutbol

My Boys...Part 12

(Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 1Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Epilogue)

Putting the coffee pot in the middle of the kitchen table as you set the two plates down, a sandwich on each plate with chips and salsa surrounding the sides, you rush to the door as you swing it open, revealing a proud Spencer with a luggage bag in his hand.

“Figured I could come stay for a bit.  Give you a break, and all,” he soothes as he holds his bag up.

“Here, let me take that,” you say, gesturing for his bag as he rips it back from you.

“You look exhausted, Y/N,” he says, taking in your sunken in eyes and your lightly slumped shoulders, “just show me where I’m needed.”

In that moment, in your vulnerable state with your mind in a haze, you wanted to pat your heart, with tears streaming down your face, and tell him how much you cared for him.

But you settled for taking his hand and guiding him through the house to his room.

“This is the guest bedroom,” you say as you flick the light on, “it’s not huge, but you have your on ensuite bathroom.  Wilder is right across the hall from you,” you say as you gesture out into the hallway, “and I’m just down the hall right before you hit the kitchen.”

“Where does DeShawn sleep?” he asks as he drops his bag.

“In the basement.  He’s got his own room, bathroom, and little living area down there.”

“Sounds more like a miniature apartment,” Spencer chuckles as he follows you back out into the hallway.

“DeShawn, as he got older, started enjoying his privacy a bit more.  Plus, Wilder likes to go down there and play video games on the TV down there with his brother.”

“Sounds like fun,” Spencer smiles as you turn your head and shoot him a tired grin.

“They’re my boys,” you breathe as you turn the corner, showing Spencer your living area as the boys continue to snooze in their respective chairs.

“How long have they been asleep?” Spencer whispers.

“A little over an hour.  They need to be cleaned up and moved to their bedrooms.”

As Spencer dips down beside DeShawn, his hand draping onto his forearm as he shakes lightly, Deshawn groans as he lobs his head over.

“Spenceeeeeer!” he groans lightly, “My man.”

“Hey there, buddy,” Spencer giggles, “we gotta get you downstairs and cleaned up.”

“You sayin’ I stink?” DeShawn asks playfully as he tries to stand up on his own.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Spencer says as he grabs onto a stumbling DeShawn, “lets take this nice and easy.”

Sighing in relief as you listen to Spencer slowly get him downstairs, you turn towards Wilder whose eyes have now finally opened themselves.

“You called him,” Wilder smiles through his wirings.

“He’ll be with us for a little while,” you smile as you dip down, helping him to his feet as he leans on you for support.

“I’m tired,” Wilder groans through his teeth as you turn into the bathroom.

“I know, sweetheart, but we put off your shower last night,” you say as you flip the water nozzles and get them going just as you hear them turn on downstairs.

“DeShawn is letting Spencer help him?” Wilder mutters in shock.

“He must really like him,” you muse tiredly as you turn to your son and begin helping him out of his clothes.

“Do you?” Wilder asks as you flutter your tired eyes up to his.

“Do I what?” you ask as you grab your son’s arm, helping him into his bath as he eases into it with his boxers on.

“Like Spencer, Mom…” your son groans as he rolls his eyes.

“It’s not that easy…” you rail off as you pour water down his back.

“Why are you so scared?” Wilder huffs between his teeth.

“Because I can’t just let any man around my sons,” you bite.

“You’ve already let him around us!” Wilder yelps.

“Calm down, sweetheart,” you coo as you whip your gaze up to him.

“No!  Mom…you love him.  I know you do!  We both know you do!  WE ALL KNOW YOU DO!!”

“Calm down, Wilder!” you roar, your eyes wild as tears begin streaming down his cheeks.

“My love life is not your call!” you yell as you stand to your feet, tears streaming down your son’s face as your body teeters with exhaustion.

“DeShawn and you have voiced, on numerous occasions, how you would feel about me being with Spencer.  And you don’t have to worry!  I love that man with everything I have!  Everything I haven’t already given to you boys!  So quit acting like spoiled, drugged up brats, take your damn bath, and go to bed, damn it!”

Feeling your chest heaving as your son cries in the bathtub, you hear a light knock on the door as you slowly turn your tired, haggard body towards the opening, only to see Spencer’s head sticking into the bathroom.


Just fucking grand.

“Want me to take over?” he asks lightly, his eyes flickering from you to Wilder and back again.

“No,” you bite…at the same time that Wilder says “Yes.”

“What?” you breathe as you whip your gaze back to your son.

“Yes.  I want Spencer to help,” he grunts.


“I said…Spencer,” he glowers.

And as you shake your head, stepping out of the bathroom as you stumble down the hallway, you hear Spencer shut the bathroom door behind you as you collapse into one of the kitchen chairs, your face finding the palms of your hands as you begin to sob.