#like i ate a hamburger some time ago and the mixture of everything and the elements i didnt know made it sooo bad

[inplateaus]

my one thing with food is that i dont like to mix stuff unless i am extremely comfortable with all the parts and if im to try something new i have to eat it alone

[whatscallion]

[ prompt ] “I was just wondering if you wanted to mate–DATE I MEANT DATE.”

It was a Tuesday morning in the summer.

The sun broke over the cityscape’s silhouette, echoing off the mirrored windows of New York’s tallest buildings, bringing a blurry-eyed populace to life after a weekend of unrelenting freedom. Debauchery had been afoot in those midnight hours, soaked in alcohol and stained with cigarette smoke. This pertained heavily to those of the more normal stature, but this weekend had been one of the rare moments in which the aptly named ‘Supers’ had a day or two of respite.

This was enough cause for celebration.

With golden mead from Thor’s reserves and the skeleton remnants of Tony’s dusty own, those who defended the world had taken it upon themselves to slump their shoulders in relaxation. The weight of the world could be lifted, if just for one night. What had originally been a small affair ballooned into something befit the red carpet.

A few calls may or may not have been made.

“What? We’re allowed to let loose every now and then,” the futurist spoke over the rim of his virgin Shirley Temple. A shameless man could not be ribbed over his drink choice. “Besides, when was the last time everyone washed their uniforms, hm?”

A mixture of grimaces and snickers answered his question as the question was mulled over at the behest of his raised eyebrows.

“You’re all filthy animals,” he followed up in the absence of concrete answers.

“Filthy, yes, but joyous nonetheless.” Even with his “indoor voice”, Thor could be heard over the mass of people mingling around them. He’d even raised his stein in appreciation, bringing the others of the patchwork family to follow suit in the myriad of glasses. “Besides, I quite enjoy my Asgardian garbs. Do you not?”

“I like it in the same way I like the Smithsonian: on occasion,” Tony fired back with an overly saccharine sweet smile.

“You’ve had a stain on your cape for the past three weeks. We’ve all been taking bets on what it is.” Clint had been the one to shed light on the sort of secret pool they were all in on, prompting the god to look down at his cape to at least ascertain the stain’s presence.

Collectively, the Avengers held their breath as the fabric was brought up for closer inspection.

“By the Gods, this is ketchup. When did we last feast upon hamburgers?” Silence among the heroes followed once more as they all dug through memories for a timeframe.

“Two weeks ago, man,” Bruce quietly offered from behind the floor lamp, as if the furniture would hide him from the world. “How is it not moldy yet?”

From there, the relaxed titans would speak further of Thor possibly eating something with ketchup much sooner, but it was drowned out as the music persisted and the drinks flowed. Minutes passed to hours, leaving most of the invites to meander their way out the doors and into the night. A warm hum seemed to vibrate through those who were easily intoxicated and even those who were deemed impossible to feel anything. But they’d never accounted for something stronger than earthly ales.

“This’s…really strong, what.” Most of the group managed to catch a glimpse of a very rare sight, one that brought delight and mischief to course through them. “What is this?”

The good Captain was feeling a little foggy after having some of whatever was in Thor’s flask. The god merely smiled.

“It is the nectar of the gods, Steven Rogers. And I’m impressed! No mortal man could ever have so much as a taste and remain standing, but you! You’ve had but three glasses and are still upright! This calls for another.”

Though the Thunder God poured another, Steve felt inclined to step away from the bar in order to sit and wait for the world to stop spinning this fast. Water would be nice, he surmised, glancing about and realizing that no one else was sitting. Why? This was strange. For someone who couldn’t get drunk on any other day, Steve sure felt like a lightweight.

The glass of water came into view half a second before a body sat down next to him. Steven needn’t even look over to know that the famed Black Widow had taken up a spot beside him. Senses were buzzing with alcohol before, but now, they were sparking to life at the proximity. This wasn’t fair. There were times in which he cursed the serum, and that moment was climbing the list to being the number one curse.

“You look like you need some help,” she said, handing the glass over to him. Why did her voice sound like velvet? Did it always? Get your head in the game, Rogers. “I’m surprised you took Thor up on his offer. I saw Tony do it once, and he was in bed the whole next day eating Saltines and watching daytime television.”

Steve couldn’t look at her. Nope. Not with these background feelings trying to bully their way up to the forefront of his mind. But he could hear the smile in her voice, and could vividly imagine the curl of crimson. He had to rub his face before taking to the water.

“I’ll be fine,” he finally said after finishing half the glass. “Pretty sure I’ll sober right up b’fore I go to bed.”

Come with?

Wait. No. Don’t say that. Wow, he can feel the warmth of her body right there.

Stop iT, ROGERS.

“Yeah, I’m going to go ahead and not believe that. You’re a pretty super guy, but I’m thinking that nectar might have you beat.” There was a soft hum of a chuckle tailing her words, and every part of Steve wanted to look over at her. But he couldn’t. He knew that if he did, a plethora of word vomit would be out of his mouth.

“This’sn’t the first time I’ve been drunk, Nat. C’mon.” Shit. Okay. He could feel her eyes on him, studying every move he made to see if he was lying or not. He’s pretty sure he wasn’t lying. Mostly sure. Did she buy it? Did he even buy it? The world was swirling around him in a way that was so disorienting and all Steve wanted to do was lay down.

Would she mind if he put his head in her lap for a little bit?

What are you THINKING, Steven Grant Rogers?

“Okay, fine.” Oh good, she believed him, which was more of a shock to him than anything. “Regardless, try to eat something before bed. And drink water, okay?” Her palm fell on his shoulder and it felt like fire. A rosy blush bled into the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears as she stood.

He looked up at her.

Shit.

She was a vision dressed in just plain jeans and a shirt with ‘Pym Labs’ printed across it in cracked lettering. A well worn shirt. Jeans were rough around the edges but comfortable - her favorite pair. How did he even know this? In a glance, he knew everything he’d come to consciously ignore, but the alcohol was subtly switching his subconscious to front and center. Steve had already known she loved those jeans and that shirt. Knew that she didn’t do anything with her hair as scarlet strands fell in haphazard waves.

Then he opened his mouth.

“Hey, Nat?” She stopped and pivoted back to look at him with an expectant gaze.

Don’t say it.

Don’t.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to mate–”

Wait. Something’s not right.

Oh no.

“–DATE I MEANT DATE.”

If Steve had been blushing before, he was about to combust now, instantly standing with nerves ruling over his actions. First to come were the nervous chuckles, free hand palming the back of his neck as he refused to look at the reaction on her face.

“Hahaha, wow. Okay, uhm - I think I should skidaddle outta here. Haha.” Oh god, you’re a hot mess. “I’ll uh, yeah- haha. I’ll see you ‘round.”

And just like that, the whirlwind of drunk Steve Rogers was stumbling his way back to his room to shrivel up and die from embarrassment. It ate away at him until he flopped onto his bed, instantly out like a light.

While he was embarrassed, Natasha was both confused and amused. She spent the rest of the night enjoying herself with pointless small talk with her colleagues, all the while planning away what would be done in the morning.

A knock came at Steve’s door just as the sunlight broke out over the city, only to be met with a grumble of sorts. Another knock and there was movement behind the door. Another knock, and it finally opened, revealing that Steve was still wearing the clothes he was wearing the previous night, and that a super soldier could indeed look like death warmed over.

“Figured you’d have a hangover,” Nat said, holding back a smile too broad. “Brought you aspirin and water.”

“Oh my god, Nat. I don’t even-” Oh no. He remembers. Suddenly, he was very lucid. “Oh my god.”

“Don’t worry, Rogers. A good greasy breakfast will cure that hangover. Besides, it’ll be a good first date.”

[pursuitofbrattiness-blog]

Second

Things have been stressful but otherwise pretty decent lately. My bf and I celebrated our first anniversary together and now we are beginning to look for places come August 1st. I started therapy weekly for the time being. My first real appointment is on the 29th. It's crazy how long this journey has taken. I always thought when you're in a dire situation like needing mental help or being suicidal that they swooped in and actually took care of you. Luckily there have been no copay so far, but my bill from the emergency behavioral outreach and the hospital have totaled $2400+. I keep saying I was taken involuntarily and I was, but it's not like I didn't need the help. The bills are a sobering reminder of where I was versus where I need to be. Sometimes I sit back and think where did my life go? I'm 27 now and don't see a very promising future, except if you are thinking in terms of retail management. My poor choices have limited me so much in my future. I have a poor credit score and work a job $3 ish dollars over minimum wage, so in turn I live in a shit hole, drive a shitty car, and have an overall shitty life. I try not to be mad or have any resentment toward anyone. Who am I kidding? I did this all to myself. Everything. So therefore I am the only one who can help myself get out of it. I used to do so much. Martial arts, honors student, gifted writer, won the geography bee, etc etc. And then everything just kind of ... changed. Gradually. I remember when I started dating. My first bf and I are still very good friends to this day. We were together for like two years. That is, if I could find him. This was before everyone had cell phones. You actually had to work for it. Anyway he came out of the closet and left me. I was unhappy at first but soon came to realize that I would be even more unhappy in a sham relationship and if I truly do love him for who he is (which I still do, always.), then I should be happy with him trying to find his own happiness. I feel like my existence is made up of chapters and each chapter is named after the boy or man I chose to be with in that period of time. I used relationships as a way to identify myself for so long that I lost touch with who I really was as a person. I'm not sure if I've still even found that girl yet. Overall I had a pretty decent childhood. We were never rich, but my parents always made sure we had everything we needed. My older sister and I each received an LL Bean backpack when we started first grade and we were expected to maintain it and keep it throughout elementary school, we had chores, after school program, etc. I started going to camp when I was around 8 and continued until 17. I took martial arts and aspired to do something with my life. My parents pushed us a lot though, and it was sometimes hard on us girls. They expected us to socialize and play outside with the other kids. When I was like maybe 5 I met the neighbor kids. It was soon after that I knew about sex, knew what a blow job was, and just generally things a 5 year old shouldn't know. I would say that one of the single worst memories I have in my entire life is this: Couldn't have been more than 6 years old at the time. The neighbor boy asked if I wanted to see something. He wasn't even that much older than me. Maybe 7? 8? It's really kind of fuzzy after 20 years. Anyway, of course I wanted to see something. He led me into the back hall to the apartment building we lived in and pulled down his pants, exposing his penis. He said now you. I wasn't exactly sure what to do or say. I do remember what I was wearing though. Minnie Mouse romper thing. Light up sneakers. I did what he said. He asked if I had ever sucked dick before. No, I replied cautiously. He told me to close my eyes and open my mouth. I did so. Wider he says. I tightened my eyes abs opened as wide as I could. And that's when I tasted it. It tasted like cigarettes and laundry detergent. It was brief. I pulled away and opened my eyes. I saw my sister and his sister staring in through the glass on the door we went through. I didn't know what to think. Didn't get it. Stuff like that happened between the brother and the sister and I until they finally moved away. To this day I know I'm not completely heterosexual and know that this probably was the catalyst. I have always been ashamed. Always hid it. Never wanted to talk about it. Would leave the room and feel uncomfortable if a lesbian couple was featured on TV, for instance. Nowadays I suppose the society we live in would say that I'm absolutely silly for hiding it. I never found out why I have such a shame for it. I'm bisexual through and through, but I really do prefer the company of men. It's weird. Sexuality is a vast and diverse thing, and talking about my own experience makes me understand a little bit more. Other bad things happened that I don't want to divulge right now. But they were really bad. And had a really profound impact on who I am as a person. I became the girl that automatically equates sex with love. Not necessarily a bad thing definitely, but it's also hurt me quite a bit. Men can be cruel. I can be, too, however. My second boyfriend was the prime example of this. I was 16 and he was 21 and I took advantage pretty damn hard. I mean, who wouldnt? I also took his virginity so nowadays I think about what he did and it makes more sense to me, especially given what I went through. Anyway this dude was getting SSI and I met him thru my ex boyfriend (yes the gay one) and on the internet kind of. It was a mixture. Anyway this dude had cerebral palsy and was getting like 550 a month. Of course once we started dating it was ALL going to me. Dumb shit, too. Dinners, $45 blankets at hot topic, just stupid shit. I was a kid so I liked dumb shit. He liked fucking a kid because he was/is a sexual predator. Ugh I got so fat and gross. I started the depo shot when I was like 16.5 or 17 and gained so much weight. I ended up getting pregnant and yeah something bad happened so we wont really go into detail about that. I started smoking weed as much as I could and drinking to legit get fucked the fuck up. Like puke, drink, repeat. Binge drinking. Soon the relationship between palsy dude and I was growing sour. He was starting to become physically abusive, and using items and marriage proposals, and cheap fucking 1/10 diamond rings from walmart to try to lure me in. I dropped out of high school and almost joined the fucking military. I quit martial arts. I was legit becoming a shell. Crying out for any attention I could at home. My parents were too busy trying to repair their marriage. I get it now, mom and dad. I can't even imagine how you guys did it all and managed to save your marriage. I understand why it had to be done. I acted like a casualty of it for years. It finally dawned on me that they were trying to save it for ME. For my sis and I. I'm truly grateful now. They are still together and seem to be more in love than ever. Someday I will have something this healthy. Anyway the first time palsy dude (and yes that is what he will be referred to as. First bf is gay bf. Deal with it. He loves it.) was physical with me was after some brief altercation we had had. I called him stupid. He was driving his fuckin piece of shit Intrepid and stopped short at a stop sign. He looked me dead in the eyes and wrenched my windpipe with his good hand. Don't you ever fucking call me that again. He said through gritted teeth. His forehead turned red and he started breathing heavily through his nose before shoving me backwards and letting me go. Instantly my eyes welled up with tears and I think .02 seconds after that, he was sorry. He was always fuckin sorry. It continued to get worse. Shoving me into walls, kicking me when I was laying in the fetal position crying. Blaming me for what happened when I got pregnant. Blowing my fuckin cell phone up and running up my parents bill, always wanted to know where I was. So I apparently had gradually decided months ago the best course of action was to make him my life and quit my sport, quit school, join the military and make him and army husband. It all sounds so fuckin ridiculous now, but that's what my plan was. Til shit started going sour. My parents intervened after finding out I had missed about 90 days of school. Everyday before I left, I unhooked the phone so when the school called looking for me, the line was unreachable. I ended up in alternative school where I learned math easily from a computer, and graduated high school with like a 3.2 average or something. I went to school 7 am to 10 am and worked as much as I could for a drug store downtown. Once I got that job I found my independence and literally decided one day I did not need to be treated the way palsy dude saw fit. I was hanging out more and more with gay ex bf and his little sister, among them their friends, which in turn became my friends. A veritable menagerie of different scenes, culminating into the love for two things. Partying, and trying to find the means to do so. I had a job so I would buy weed and booze any chance I could get and share with everyone. A lot of times I would go to gay ex bfs dad's house after school and wait for him to come over so we could hang and party. Smoke maybe do some pills and drink. There was another reason I would go over there. Gay ex bfs dad was a heroin addict and I felt really bad for him because he was very kind and gave me a lot of advice and tried to help me in my future. I feel like I was making him hamburger helper everyday for at least a few months. Always with a couple slices of cheese on top. He used to ask for it, but then I would just routinely go into the fridge and see what I could make for us. Sometimes when he would eat, he would start to go to sleep so I would make sure he stayed awake and smoked his cigarette and ate and had a drink of water before he fell asleep again. Sometimes I would make sure the little sister would get to school at a decent time, although no one could ever control her after you dropped her off at the middle school. I always loved that about her. She always marched to the beat of her own drum. Anyway, I broke up with palsy dude. He had been living in a rooming house in my city to be closer to me. I told him i was done. He smashed a ceramic mug he had and sliced his wrists over and over. I was in awe and surely did not know what to say or do. He blocked the door and cried to me to reconsider. I had to call the cops. I went to my friends house after and my friends mother consoled me. My parents picked me up and took me home. He killed the hamster he bought me after that I'm pretty sure. He harassed me for weeks. Finally the day after my 18th birthday he called my cell. Not sure why but I answered. He sounded hysterical as usual. I heard wind blowing into the speaker which meant he was outside somewhere. What the fuck do you want I said. He replied, through gritted teeth I'm sure, I wanted to do this on your birthday. Now the sound I heard after I can only describe as dropping a heavy book in an empty room, on a wood floor. The phone hung up. I looked at my friends who I was with at the time and said something to the effect of I think this motherfucker shot himself. So I decide to call back. This dude fucking answers. When I ask him what happened he confirmed my fear of shooting himself. But miraculously he DIDN'T DIE. BECAUSE AFTER HE TOLD ME WHAT HAPPENED I CALLED FUCKIN 911. I GUESSED THAT HE WAS AT HIS PARENTS, THAT WOULD BE THE ONLY PLACE HE WENT THAT DIDN'T HAVE THE SOUND OF THE CITY IN THE BACKGROUND. Oh how right i was and they jetted on over to put his face back together. So they did plastic surgery and looks 100% better now, which makes my story even more fucking unbelievable. I mean I haven't seen him IN PERSON for years, almost a decade actually, but his Facebook (yes I creep) makes him look completely normal. Here's the fuckin kicker. I had to get a restraining order on him. He still tried his damndest to contact me through any means possible. I was scared and just wanted it all to be over so I finally got the balls to tell him to leave me alone or face jail time. Needless to say he did. He's in an unhappy marriage and has a child. I only know this because he is a Facebook creep too and COULD NOT RESIST seeing what's up with my fine ass after all these years. Basically said gl with the kids and shitty marriage douche. Man that felt good.