#did. literally i seem to have a talent for making dentists quit

[fingertipsmp3]

I think one of my wisdom teeth is coming in and like. Can It Not

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #345

“this is the year where hope fails you  /  the test subjects run the experiment  /  and the bastards you know, is the hero you hate”

Do you have any scars from burns? No. Have you ever built a snowman? Yes. Growing up, Dad would always help my sisters and I make them. Good memories. How about a sand castle? Yeah, but not any impressive ones at all. Just the ones where you fill a pail with sand and flip it over. Have you ever used crutches? Tried when I tore a ligament in my foot, but the pair we had were too tall for me to use them comfortably at all, so I never really "used" them. Have you ever been in a tree house? No. Would you ever move to China? No. Did you ever go to daycare as a kid? I went to one for literally a day because Mom was disgusted with how I was treated. I accidentally wandered into the wrong room or something and one of the guardians slapped my hand when she scolded me, and I think I sobbed the rest of the day, but partially because I had AWFUL separation anxiety from my mom. Afterwards, Mom just had people she knew babysit my sisters and me. Who’s one of the most talented people you know? What are they talented at? As for people who are still in my life/I still consider to "know," I'm unsure, but only because there are so many talented people in my life. One of my older sisters is a fantastic cake decorator and artist in general, and my little sister is truly skilled with working with children; she's a kid magnet. Sara is really good at animation, and I wish she'd do it more! Do you usually pay with cash, debit card, or credit card? Cash. I don't have a credit or debit card. Are you the type of person who can make friends with just about anyone? Yeah, but I have my limits. I'm very open-minded and can befriend people with a wide range of beliefs and personalities, but I know where to draw the line. There comes a point where giving your friendship to someone is like passively supporting their ways, and I don't want to do that if those are overwhelmingly negative and/or hateful. Have you ever experienced a medical emergency? Well yeah, I overdosed on cold medicine. I was surprisingly okay, but I assume it's because I was taken to the hospital fast enough for fluids? Idk. What was the last thing you borrowed from someone? Ummm no clue. Are you muscular? Uh, no. When you go to a restaurant, do you prefer to sit at a booth or a table? Booth. What’s something you think everyone should do/experience at least once in their life? Love. Has your car ever been broken into? I don't have a car, but neither of my parents' has been. Have you ever recorded yourself doing a cover of a song? No. Do you watch television shows more in the dark or the day time? I just don't watch TV. Are there any movies out there that basically make you want to puke? None that I've seen, no. But I won't watch The Human Centipede for this exact reason, as I KNOW it would make me hurl. Any secrets you’d never tell anyone? No matter how close they are to you? Yes. Do you consider yourself a promiscuous person? Not even slightly. Do you know anyone who has AIDS? What about yourself? I don't know anyone with it, no, and I don't have it either. Has anyone ever mistaken you to be a member of the opposite sex? No. What’s your favorite hair color on the opposite sex that you love? I like colored hair, but if we're talking natural colors, then black. Have you ever had a child before? If so, what’s his/her name? Nope, never gonna have one. Which baby animal is your favorite? Meerkats for sure. I also love kittens. Do you like jam on your toast and biscuits? Yeah. Are there any plants in your home? No. What food does honey go best with? *shrug* Have you ever carved a pumpkin? Yeah. Have you ever reread a book? I read Because of Winn-Dixie twice, and I've read Meerkat Manor: Flower of the Kalahari countless times, although after the first read, I skipped over Clutton-Brock's massive tangents that had nothing to do with meerkats. They really took away from the book, imo. Would you ever like to own a chandelier? Sure, like above the dinner table. It's not a big deal for me, though. What scent is the last body wash you used? Oh my god, it's this cinnamon bun scent that I got for I think my b-day, and I LOVE it. It's going to suck when it's gone. Do you have any religious symbols in your home? Probably somewhere, I just don't pay attention. What religion do you identify with, if any? None. Do you enjoy flavored coffee? If so, which flavor is your favorite? I don't like coffee at all. Do you know someone who has asthma? Yeah, my mom. What is the most controversial thing you’ve done? Come out as bi, I guess. Other than interviews, do you ever “dress to impress?" No. Are you currently listening to music? Yeah: "The Man Who Made a Monster" by Dance With the Dead. When was the last time you got really nervous? I should NOT be blanking on this, but I sure am. I don't think I've been REALLY nervous in a while, but certainly nervous like... always. What was the first thing you ate today? I had a bagel. Have you ever had one of those elementary-school boy/girlfriends? No; I didn't have my first boyfriend 'til the 7th grade. Name something random in your car: I don't have my own car. What do you want to tell someone who has died (and who is it, if anything)? I wish I could tell Steve Irwin thank you and that he truly did change the world. I think a lot about just how unspeakably proud he would be of his children and how madly in love he'd be with Bindi's newborn. That family is the definition of wholesome, and I desperately wish Steve was still around. Have you ever stolen from a friend or family member? Wow, no. Would/did you cheat on someone for revenge? Or if they wouldn’t find out? No, that's incredibly childish. If you got pregnant right now, would you keep the baby? The only way I could get pregnant right now was if I was, God fucking forbid, raped. I don't think I'd be able to keep it; it would scar me for life, but at the same time, even though I'm pro-choice, I don't know if I could go through with an abortion without feeling like shit and forever thinking "well you could've just given it up for adoption." I don't like thinking about this topic. Any history with eating disorders (or tendencies)? No, thankfully. I've had bulimic thoughts before, but I've never acted on them. Does your family have a secret? No. If single, would you knowingly be who someone cheats on someone else with? Nooope. Guilt would eat me alive. Have you ever contemplated physically hurting yourself or another? I have hurt myself, but never other people. Choose one living person you’d like to meet. I won't have lived a full life w/o meeting Mark at least once laksdj;flakwjer. Who is someone you know would take a bullet for you? My mom would without a millisecond's hesitation. I'm sure Dad would, too. The next time you are on an airplane, where will you be traveling to? Most likely Illinois to visit Sara again. Where is your dad from? Ohio. Aside from your own, whose house did you last set foot into? My older sister's. What is something that makes you very squeamish? Vomit is #1. Do you even use an alarm clock, or do you just use your phone? I use my phone. Have you ever moved to a different state? No. Lived in NC my whole life. Can you do long division in your head? I can't do math in my head period. Do you have a wide imagination? Oh yes. Would you mind living on a farm? I wouldn't want to. Farms take way too much maintenance. Do you enjoy watching horror films? Oh yeah. Have you ever been to Niagara Falls? No, but I'd love to. Who are you in love with? Nobody. When is the last time you took a picture? I took a picture of Venus like a week ago when I had her out of her terrarium and she was just coiled between my arm and the laptop, totally chillin' out. I was IN a picture just a couple days ago, because my eldest sister came over to visit with her husband. It was great. Do you wash your own car or make the car wash do it? I don't have a car. Are you a fan of parties? Not big ones, no. I'd enjoy chilling out with a few people I'm friends with/know, just chatting and hanging out. Next trip you’re going to take? I don't know. My sister Misty's wedding is coming up soon, but we doubt we'll be able to go because of 1.) Mom's car would never make the drive, and 2.) Covid, and Mom's immunocompromised. It sucks, but she's being understanding about it. Were you in honor roll in school? Yeah. If you could know one thing about the future, what would it be? If I'll ever be happy with my life. What’s your favorite lunch meat? Ham. Do you drink your soda from a straw? I don't like to, no, because I drink faster via a straw, and I like to drag my soda out throughout the day so I don't go through more than I should. Do you like hot sauce? Yesssssss. Do you like Ellen Degeneres? Sure, she seems like a great person. Who do you think is the cutest celebrity? UMMMMMM like have you ever seen Mark Fischbach laugh?????? Did you ever play softball? For quite a long time as a kid, yeah. Would you like to live to be 110 years old? No, that sounds like torture. I don't want to live to where I'm essentially a walking (if even) corpse. No energy, no strength... no thanks. Do you like getting your picture taken? NO. Ever seen a tornado? Thank fuck no. When you were little, did you do gymnastics? No. Do you know anyone who is pregnant? I know a number of people who are. Two are due very soon. Do you like being the X or the O when you play tic-tac-toe? I like being the X. Have you ever tried crowd surfing? No. Do you like the movie Bambi? If so, who is your favorite on there? I've actually somehow never seen it, though I would like to. Do you like onion rings? No. Are you more afraid of going to the doctor or dentist? I'm not really afraid of either, but I dislike going to the doctor more. Have you ever been to an animal shelter? Yeah. Have you ever bought yourself or someone else lingerie? No. Have you ever had a serious issue involving your eyes? Nothing more than needing glasses. When you were a teenager, did your parents set rules about dating? Not really, besides the obvious age gap stuff. I was allowed to follow my heart with who I was interested in, really. Have you ever lived with a person who you tried to avoid at all costs? There were times like this with Dad when my parents were still together and he was in a bad mood, especially if he was drinking. Have you ever committed a crime that directly harmed another person? No. What is your worst childhood memory? There was this very weird three day period where I could've sworn up and down I was constantly on the verge of puking. On the third night, Mom finally took me to the hospital, but they couldn't find anything wrong. Oddly enough, I felt better the next morning... The whole situation was fucking awful for someone who was and still is terrified of vomiting. Do you remember where you first drove to after getting your license? I don't have my license. What did you get into trouble for the most when you were a kid? Being on the computer too much. What is your favourite game show to watch? Family Feud with Steve Harvey. When’s the last time had to cover a coworker’s shift? Never. Is there a word you have an emotional connection to? "Petrichor." How about a sound? Any emotional connection to a sound? LOTS of songs. Where is your favourite place to get fries? Bojangle's. Their seasoning is *chef's kiss* Do you always have a stock of alcohol in your house? No. Have you ever fainted? Yes. Do you get out of bed on the left side or right side? Left. Do you fall asleep with your mouth open or closed? It embarrasses me for some reason, but usually open, because I have a hard time breathing through my nose when I lie down for some reason? I don't take allergy medicine though when I'm really supposed to, so that might explain it... Is there a book you keep telling yourself you’ll read but still haven’t? I have Margaret Atwood's The Testaments that I want to read, but Wings of Fire has taken precedent, so I really don't know if I'll get to it. It would also be nice to catch up with Erin Hunter's Warriors, but that I know I won't do. Did your family ever own a vacation home? No. Have you ever opened a wine bottle? Nope. Have you been inside of a police station? No. What would you never change about yourself? I mean, there's a number of things. I would never allow myself to lose my empathy and compassion for others, for one. I'll never grow a head too big for my body. Do you pretty much need a car to get around where you live? Yeah. Public transport isn't a big thing here, especially outside the cities, and living in the South, places are pretty spread out/not within reasonable walking distance. Have you been to Australia? No, and I'm honestly too scared to go, even though I think it would be extremely cool. All the venomous animals just frighten me, and I find huntsman spiders to be TERRIFYING, regardless of how harmless they are. Do you mind drinking room-temperature water? UGH, I absolutely do mind. I HAVE to drink cold water. If it's even slightly on the warm side, it makes me want to gag.

[amaranthinecanicular]

Jack of all trades. Enough people have called him that over the years, usually with intent to flatter. Maybe they don't know the other half of the phrase. Maybe they just choose to ignore it. Either way, Sero came to terms long ago with how well it fit, like a second skin, like a worn and comfortable uniform: jack of all trades, master of none.

----

“Sero has a crush on his dentist,” says Kaminari.

“Oh, really? Congrats, man!” says Kirishima. “What's his name?”

“Dentists make good money,” says Mina. “Is he cute?”

“Who the fuck cares?” says Bakugou. Then he says nothing else because he's tearing into his burger.

“I don't have a crush on my dentist,” says Sero, not that anyone listens. He tears into his burger too, with more dedication than he affords most burgers. It's just a really good burger. Honestly.

Kaminari elects to answer for him, because Kaminari is a terrible friend. “His name's Skye. He's American. And as for cute--” He digs his phone out of his pocket and opens a picture of Dr. Skye, mid-teeth cleaning. When the hell did he take that? How the hell did he take that?

“I did some reconnaissance,” says Kaminari, guessing at Sero’s question. “My gums bled all over the place but it was totally worth it.”

“Oh my god, I know him!” says Mina, snatching the phone. “He was on all those teeth whitening ads, with the catchy jingle!”

She tilts the screen toward Kirishima, who whistles. “Nice, Sero. He is cute,”

The phone vanishes from both their hands to detonate neatly in Bakugou’s fist.

“Who. The fuck. Cares?” he growls, and Sero has never been more grateful for his jealous streak. Kirishima likes it too, though for different reasons, which he makes known by sprawling backward into Bakugou’s lap and cooing, “Aw, babe, you're so cute when you're jealous!”

Kaminari is not as endeared. “That's the third one this month, Bakugou,” he says, his voice a pitiful mix of mournful and resigned. “At least I've got a warranty this time.”

Mina puts her chin in her hands and bats her eyelashes. It’s exactly as cute as she thinks it is, but Sero has had years to develop immunity. “Have you asked him out yet?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Probably because I don't have a crush on my dentist.” Except how he does. He totally does have a crush on his dentist.

“Dude.” Kaminari stops pouting long enough to level him a flat look. “You get a cleaning every three weeks. Your teeth are fabulous, your wallet is empty, and you have a crush on your dentist. Ask him out.”

There's a very special type of burn in Sero’s chest to hear Kaminari say that. Dry, crackling heat, like an electric fire. He puts his face in his hands and presses the burning back down, away from his eyes.

“I was drunk when I told you all that. It’s more complicated than you think.”

He hears Mina:  “How is it complicated? You’re a catch. Just ask him out next time you see him!”

And Kirishima: “Even if he says no--which he shouldn’t, because Mina’s right, you’re a total catch--but even if he does, he’ll appreciate your honesty. Nothing manlier than honesty and respect.”

And Bakugou: “Either way you’ll get to stop wasting your cash like a chump and I’ll get to stop hearing about this bullshit.”

And Kaminari: “So you do like him.”

That’s the one he looks up for. Through his fingers he imagines a strangeness to Kaminari’s expression. A smile, just a little too crooked. Electric-eyed and bright. His normal look, really. It only looks strange for the wearing itself--for the deliberate way he seems to pull it on, less natural, more affected, like a costume and mask. Sero might think Kaminari was displeased with his answer if only he weren’t imagining it all.

“It’s complicated,” Sero says again, because it is. Because he does have a crush on his dentist, sure, but a crush on a near-stranger for the past four months is nothing compared to a crush on one’s best friend. More than a crush. For over a decade.

Kaminari looks like he has something else to say--maybe Sero’s imagining that too--but it's interrupted by a brave gaggle of fans, the first of several to approach. Someone says, “The Ground Zero Agency, here, in our burger joint!” It's one of those days where everyone at the table but Sero is recognized, but hey, that's okay. He's used to it.

Sero finishes his burger.

----

His dentist calls him Jack.

He doesn't know why. He doesn't ask. Jack could mean a lot of things. He's heard that some people use it as a nickname for strangers in America. Or it could be that Dr. Skye honestly forgot his name. That wouldn't be so surprising--it's not like Sero’s very famous, or even particularly recognizable. Nothing like everyone else at the agency. Between plain and forgettable, it's anyone's guess which he's been called more often.

“Hey, Jack!” says Dr. Skye. His smile is something close to blinding, but Sero is self aware enough to know that it’s probably more to do with the man’s quirk than genuine joy at seeing him again. He’s got a ton of other patients and he probably smiles the same way at them.

“Hey there, Doc,” says Sero. One nickname for another. “Fancy meeting you here.”

It's a dumb joke, if it even counts as a joke at all, but Skye snickers the same way he always does. And the way he says, “I missed my favorite patient. How you been?” is the same too. Probably par for the course. Probably Dr. Skye makes everyone feels so special.

But, well. Not everyone makes Sero “Jack of All Trades” Hanta feel special. Just Kaminari and Skye, mostly.

“Fine,” says Sero, even though it hasn't really. He was on a late night talk show a few nights ago with Kaminari, the host of which has it out for him. But Skye doesn't need to know that. “Just fine. You?”

Skye peers into Sero’s mouth and pokes around and hums a little. “Pretty good! Filled in a cavity for Lemillion. Have I told you I'm Lemillion’s dentist?”

Sero’s answer is unintelligible, which is for the better because he doesn't want to tell Skye that he's told him that six times already. Lemillion was actually the one who referred Sero to Skye. Not that Skye knows this, either, and Sero would like to keep it that way.

“But his pearly whites have nothing on yours,” Skye continues. “Which are perfect as always, by the way. Best I've ever seen. Aside from mine, of course.” He likes that joke. Sero doesn't mind because it's objectively true.

On the TV posted in the back corner of the office an ad comes on for a popular late-night talk show. Clips of Kaminari’s face flicker over the screen, and then his own. Sero’s pulse picks up but the TV is muted and Skye has his back to it.

“So, got any plans this weekend?” Skye says, and the ad ends. If Sero is visibly relieved then Skye is too distracted by the inside of his mouth to notice.

“Nuh muh,” says Sero. The ad comes on again. That’s just not fair.

“I don’t either. Usually my schedule is jam packed but it’s nice to have some free time, right?”

Sero makes a croaky, squeaky sort of sound. Skye nods like this is an acceptable human answer, and Sero would be embarrassed if he weren’t kind of freaking out. Something terrible will happen if Skye finds out that he is Cellophane. He knows it. Skye will be disappointed that of all the heroes he works with it’s Sero that has a crush on him, or he’ll make some awful joke about how Jack is an even more fitting nickname than he thought, or he’ll bust out a villain costume and fry Sero in the overstuffed dentist chair. Maybe not that last one so much but he’s panicking and Skye is turning around to nab a paper cup for Sero to spit in and the ad is playing for a third time what the hell is the network that desperate for viewers—

“Do you want to go out with me on Saturday?” someone says. He says. He, Sero Hanta, just said that. Gargled, really.

Skye stops with his body half turned and the ad finally, finally gives way to a commercial for a revolutionary new vacuum cleaner. “Come again?”

“Uh.” Sero reaches past him and plucks the paper cup from his hand. He spits very suavely into it. Except for how that’s a filthy lie because no one on earth can do that. “Um. I was thinking, maybe. Since we’re both free. Maybe we could get dinner on Saturday? Together? Or something?”

He wishes Bakugou were here. Bakugou would put him out of his misery. But to his eternal surprise, Skye does not laugh him out of the office. He does not grimace or lose his temper, which was probably an unreasonable reaction to fear. Instead he says, “Yeah. Yes. That sounds great.”

“Seriously?” Wait. No. That’s. That can’t be right. “That worked? Like. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider? That was the least smooth I’ve ever been.”

Skye takes a seat on his work stool and quirks one brow. “Well, maybe not now that you’re trying to talk me out of it.”

Maybe this isn’t as much of a disaster as Sero thought. “Maybe it was a test. Maybe I don’t want to go out with someone who would say yes to such a terrible proposition.”

“That’s too bad. I had the perfect place in mind, I’ve been wanting to take you for a while.”

Sero smiles, big and minty. “Really?”

Skye smiles too, and it is quite literally blinding. Sero doesn’t mind. “Yes.”

Sero has never been so happy to pay twenty two thousand yen. He’s happy. He is. He can’t wait for Saturday.

He can’t think of anything but Kaminari.

----

Listen, it’s not like Sero hasn’t tried to move on. He has. He’s tried. Ten years is longer than he planned to hold a candle for anyone. There was a cute paramedic eight years ago, and a police officer who tried to arrest him because she thought he was a vigilante seven years ago. A fellow hero five years ago. A talented chef three years ago. A museum curator two years ago.

With the exception of the one or two who were trying to use him to get to the rest of the agency, Sero torpedoed those relationships all on his own. He’d like to blame Kaminari, for always showing up at exactly the wrong moment and being charming and dumb and incorrigible and earnest and saying just the right thing to make Sero’s smile real, but when it comes down to it all those people deserved better than what Sero could give them.

He’s tried to move on. He has. That doesn’t mean he was successful.

----

“So you're really giving up on Kaminari?”

Mina is helping him pick an outfit. Her words. Sero would call it lounging on his bed and eating his food and reading his magazines. He never explicitly told her about his feelings for Kaminari, but Mina has always had a way with matters of the heart, and she sniffed it out by their second year at UA. Honestly he's lucky he managed to keep Skye from her for as long as he has.

He pulls out a yellow v-neck and says, “Nothing to give up on. It's not like I ever had a chance.”

“Didn't he kiss you in our third year?” She flips a page in the magazine too casually.

“Yeah, and then he started talking about Jirou.” He thinks about that kiss more often than he'd like to admit. The stuff after that—Jirou’s name in the mouth that had just been on his, Sero’s heart crumbling at the edges—not so much.

“Talk is cheap. A kiss is action.”

“Action from ten years ago. And dating Jirou right after that counts as action too, doesn’t it?”

Mina deigns to give him a flat look over her magazine. “One date, and they never even kissed. Not the same thing.”

“Yeah, well.” He leaves it at that and weighs the v-neck against a dark blue turtleneck. He’s always liked it, but it’s tough to get around his elbows so he doesn’t wear it often. Honestly it would probably look better on Todoroki, which is good because Todoroki isn’t the type to look down his nose at a hand me down gift. “Which one do you think?”

“Hm. Neither.”

“What? That wasn’t one of the options,”

“And you're sure Skye doesn't know you're a hero?”

He gives up on the idea of looking his best with a sigh. “Pretty sure.”

“How does that work? Does he just not care about your life?”

“Sure he does. He asked what I do, I told him that I deal with public safety.”

“And that's it? He never asked you more about it?”

No, he didn’t. Instead he said that he worked in public safety too, plaque can be dangerous, and did Sero know he was Lemillion’s dentist? “What's with the third degree? I thought you were rooting for him. Kaminari is.”

He manages to keep the bitterness from his voice because he isn’t bitter about it. It’s good that Kaminari is in his corner. Sure, it burns a little, but he’s not bitter. Why should he be? It’s for the better.

...He will admit, though, that he’d have preferred Kaminari not know about it at all. Sero hadn't even meant to tell him, is the thing. They were celebrating the interview with tacos and beer, and they were drunk and happy. Leaning on each other in Kaminari’s apartment. Whispering and giggling like teenagers. It was nice. It was so nice. And it could have stayed that way if Sero had just kept his mouth shut, but some stupid self-sabotaging corner of his mind blurted, “So I think I have a crush on my dentist,” and then his mouth blurted it too.

He still doesn't know what he expected to happen. His fool heart was probably hoping Kaminari would get jealous and swoop in for a kiss—they were close enough, could smell the alcohol and Sriracha on each other's breath—but instead Kaminari peeled himself from Sero’s side and said, “Congrats, man. Tell me all about it.”

He doesn’t feel bitter about it. Just stupid. Just sad.

Mina shuts her magazine. She bounces up and throws her arms around Sero’s middle, rests her chin on his shoulder and meets his eyes in the wardrobe mirror. She must be on her tiptoes. “Oh, honey, I just want someone who appreciates you for you.”

He almost says that's why he lied in the first place. It's probably what she thinks anyway. Plenty of heroes are romantically anonymous, trying to make sure they're loved for their personalities instead of their celebrity status. Mina doesn’t need to know that Sero isn’t out to pretend he’s less than Cellophane, professional Jack of All Trades. She doesn’t need to know he’s pretending he’s more.

But he doesn’t like to lie to Mina, so instead he says, “I think he does, really. Thank you, Mina.”

She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she’s a good friend, and so she drops it. Plucks both shirts from his hands and pulls out a mossy green button down instead. The cuffs can be unbuttoned and rolled up with ease over his elbows. With one hand he takes the hangar and with the other he pulls Mina close.

“The incomparable Alien Queen, saving the day as always.”

“I hope he deserves you,” she sighs, and squeezes him tight. “The incomparable Cellophane.”

To keep from laughing at the absurdity of that statement Sero drops a kiss on her head and says nothing at all.

----

Sero thinks there are probably better ways to start a date than feeling supremely underdressed.

Skye had said nice but casual, Mina’s outfit seemed perfect. They agreed to meet at the restaurant, a comfortable plan that lets Sero work up his nerve as he makes the short tape swing over. But then he gets there, and Skye is already waiting in a sparkly tux that reminds him of Aoyama but classier, and Sero is struck by a sinking sense of foreboding. They head inside and sure enough there are chandeliers, and suit jackets, and long sweeping gowns. The lighting is low and the balconies are high and there's a beautiful woman crooning into a microphone, with shimmering clones of herself singing backup vocals. The waiters here are the kind that pull out Sero’s seat for him and never smile. Which is made more intimidating by the fact that their table is located on a private balcony, which apparently exists for the sole purpose of overlooking all the extravagance and basking in the knowledge that it's above even that.

Underdressed is. A word. For how he's feeling.

The waiter—is he a waiter? He looks more official than that, white suit instead of black, greeted Skye with groveling familiarity—starts reciting the wines without use of a menu and Sero tries to be positive. There are worse ways to start a date, too. Sure it's a little rich for his blood, but it's not like Skye looks embarrassed to be seen with him. In fact he'd smiled when they met, and told him he looked great. Never mind that no one else is wearing their sleeves rolled up, and his elbows feel clunkier than ever.

“So what do you think?” Skye is watching him expectantly. The maybe-not-a-waiter is watching him expectantly too. Sero can't remember any of the wines because he's pretty sure they were all in French (Aoyama would love it here, really) so he shrugs and says, “They all sound great. Why don't you pick?”

He has the feeling this was the right decision because Skye turns and starts making snappy orders in French that he definitely had prepared. He comes here a lot, is what this says. He's trying to impress.

Once the waiter(?) trots away Skye leans conspiratorially across the table. “It usually takes three months to get a reservation here, but I whiten the manager’s teeth.” The manager, of course, that's who he was. Some appetizers land on the table, evidently on the house. Skye raises his eyebrows and spreads out his hands. “Nice, right?”

Sero has no idea what the appetizer is. It's gray and goopy with one sprig of mint or maybe cilantro on top and it's probably the most expensive bite he's ever going to have in his life. Should that make it more appetizing? Nice right, Skye had said, and Sero has the opportunity to be honest, to lie, or to deflect with a joke.

“Yeah, it's nice, but I think you could have done better. I mean, they didn't even chew my food and feed me like a baby bird.”

Skye laughs, bright and genuine, head thrown back, and relief floods Sero’s insides. He remembers: Skye likes him. Really likes him. And he likes Skye. This is doable. This can work.

And it does, for a while. Sero tells heroic anecdotes (with some of the more heroic details fudged). “So the power’s out, and we need to see in order to… clean up the mess, right? My coworker’s static shock quirk can light things up for a second, but not enough. So he decides the best way, the only way to get the power going is to stick his tongue in an outlet.”

More or less how it happened. Static shock is close enough to electricity and the mess they were cleaning up was actually a villain that thrived in pitch darkness. The generated light from Bakugou and Kaminari’s quirks were enough to hold him back but not enough to beat him, so Kaminari went for it. Overloaded the power for the whole block. Put him in the hospital for two days and completely fried his tongue for two weeks. Later he slurred to Sero that it was worth it because he’d always wanted to do that.

To counter, Skye tells funny stories that might blur the line of patient confidentiality. “I took out Present Mic’s wisdom teeth a few years ago. Couldn’t hear for week after that,” he says, and Sero snorts on his wine. That sounds about right.

Over the main course they debate what materials Skye can bite through. Literally anything, according to Skye, and Sero is halfway to convincing Skye to bite through a fork when someone fancy and expensive looking comes over to rub elbows. With Skye, specifically. She ignores Sero. Which is fine, because it allows Sero to focus on his meal, and what he’s going to do after he finishes these seriously tiny portions. There’s no way he won’t still be hungry. Skye makes him a valiant but ultimately futile effort to include him in the conversation. Hey, it’s the thought that counts.

“I'm surprised she didn’t ask for your autograph,” Skye says, once the woman has given him her card and sauntered away. Sero laughs.

“One of the perks of dating me: you definitely don't have to worry about paparazzi.” He stops laughing. Blinks. “Wait, you know I'm a hero?”

Skye gives him a look that lands squarely between incredulous and amused. “Of course I do. You're kind of a celebrity.”

“Kind of,” Sero emphasizes, but he feels like he's glowing, like a secondary quirk has started up just behind his sternum. Skye knows. He’s known all along and he still wants to be with him. Skye warms too, maybe to see that his comment went over so well, and he continues.

“You're too modest. You're one of the top twenty heroes, and a member of the number one agency in the country. Honestly, I'm a little starstruck by you. Cellophane, Taping Hero, Jack of All Trades. Why do you think I call you Jack?”

That sweet, glowing warmth snuffs out.

“Ah, right,” Sero says. “Right. Thank you,”

Sero thinks of Kaminari. You hate it when they call you that, he'd said on the night of the talk show.

“And you do have the best smile,” Skye continues, oblivious. He winks. “After me, of course.”

“Thank you,” Sero says again. Kaminari once told him he had the best smile. No after me or except for. He was drunk and his cheeks were pink and his hands were sweaty. No matter how many times Sero told himself afterward that it was just sloppy drunken affection, he was never able to convince himself that Kaminari had been anything but sincere.

Sero tries his best to stay present through the rest of the meal, but it's hard. Now that Kaminari has smiled against the back of his eyelids it's more difficult to keep him out. When the waitstaff sweeps back in to check on them and refill their glasses, silent and efficient to the point of being cold, Sero thinks again of how very much he feels out of place. The difference is that now he imagines where Kaminari would have taken him. A local taco place, probably. Crowded and a little too loud. Casual, comfortable, warm.

Dinner winds down. They talk about other things. Sero sees some flaws in Skye’s personality now. Some stains in the white of his teeth. (Metaphorically. He doesn't think Skye’s teeth actually can stain.) He's a little bit arrogant, a little bit self-centered. He likes to flaunt his money. But these are just the natural flaws that come with being human--he's still kind, still funny and charming, and Sero is very suddenly, very starkly aware that he could fall in love with him. He's just not sure if he wants to.

They have coffee, share a dessert. If Sero starts to pull away, Skye doesn't seem to notice. When they leave the manager comes by to see them off and Skye leaves a generous tip. They walk to Skye’s house, which is bigger and fancier than Sero thought Tokyo had room for, and on the doorstep Skye kisses him.

There are sparks. He won't lie about that. The problem is that sparks only make him think of one person.

“Ah,” says Skye, and steps away. Sero opens his eyes.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing from my end.” Skye watches him. He takes another step back. “There's someone else, huh?”

What? “What? That's not--” What? “I don't--”

Skye lets him stutter, but Sero realizes as he does that his heart has been on his sleeve for the past few minutes--maybe for longer--and it's too late to tuck it away now. He falters, then stops. They stand there for a few seconds, both watching the ground.

“I'm sorry,” he says, finally. “I really like you, Skye, I just…”

“You seemed a little distant near the end there. Unfinished business with someone?” Sero hesitates, then nods. “Is it Chargebolt?”

Sero reels. Metaphorically, mostly, but maybe a little bit literally. He opens his mouth but Skye raises a hand, which is good, because he has no idea what he would have said.

“You don't have to answer that. It's just--I told you I've seen you on TV, you're kind of famous, and sometimes the way you look at him--” He shakes his head. “Sorry. It's not really my place.”

“You're really great, Skye,” Sero says, because he feels like garbage and he doesn't think apologizing again will help either of them. “I mean really, really great. I wouldn't have come out tonight if I didn't think so. You… you deserve someone just as great as you, who can appreciate you for how great you are.”

“Yeah. Sounds great.” Skye smiles, though it seems somewhat dampened. He opens the door and steps backward through it into a rectangle of light. “Hey, I hope you end up happy, Jack. You deserve someone great too. Don't forget to floss,”

It's such an unexpected parting shot that Sero can't help but laugh, and Skye laughs too, and the door closes, and Sero is still chuckling but really he just wants to call Kaminari and cry. He thinks about taping his way home, and decides to walk instead. He can’t imagine feeling more awful than he does in this moment.

Then the alert comes in.

----

Jack of all trades. Enough people have called him that over the years, usually with intent to flatter. Maybe they don't know the other half of the phrase. Maybe they just choose to ignore it. Either way, Sero came to terms long ago with how well it fit, like a second skin, like a worn and comfortable uniform: jack of all trades, master of none.

And he isn't. He knows he isn't. He's a solid pretty good at everything, which is usually enough. He's learned how to use Pretty Good at Everything to his advantage; he works at the top hero agency in the country (though depending on the day, the heroes in Midoriya’s agency beat them out) despite the fact that his individual stats are hands down the least impressive. But he's an excellent support hero, the best there is at backing up the star. He excels as a professional sidekick—the one thing he's best at. Most of the time he can think that without even a little bitterness. A brand's a brand, and he's more than lucky to have cultivated one at all.

This is what happened the night of the talk show:

It's not the first time he's been on this program. It's not even the second or third time. The showrunners have a good rapport with the Ground Zero Agency, so at least one member ends up in these very comfy interview chairs every few months. Even so, he can't bring himself to be surprised when the host asks him to introduce himself. “With us today we have pro heroes Chargebolt and…”

She pauses, tips her head. It's jealousy, he's pretty sure. Her quirk is kind of like his--prehensile hair that can whip out and grab things, she uses it to hold microphones for her guests--and she thinks she could do a better job at the Ground Zero Agency. She’s practically told him as much, though she was delirious with adrenaline and smoke at the time. Those were extenuating circumstances, and awkward as hell, just like this is shaping up to be. Oh well. He's good at smiling through awkward situations.

“Cellophane, the taping hero,” he says, to fill her expectant silence. He winks at the audience, shoots two goofy finger guns.

“Yes, and Cellophane.” Her voice flattens on his name. The applause reflects it, dialing down from enthusiastic to polite. But Kaminari whistles for him, which is silly and gratifying and makes Sero’s smile feel a little more real.

The host raises her eyebrows over her glasses. “And your quirk is…tape?”

“That's right.”  

“I see. Ladies and gentlemen, our local Jack of All Trades...”

Sero knows very suddenly that she's going to finish the phrase. He can already feel the eyes on him, the heavy beat of silence, the awkward little laugh bubbling in the back of his throat he'll use to fill it. It's going to be awful. He prepares himself to smile through it.

“Most valuable member of the team, right here,” says Kaminari, and the host is distracted.

“Is he?” She sounds dubious. Sero can understand that. Most valuable? He's valuable, sure, but most?

“Oh, far and away. He's the most versatile, the most rational. We'd be lost without him. But you know that already, huh? Remember that time he rescued you from that fire in the studio?”

A murmur ripples through the crowd. The host's face has gone startlingly pale. This was the incident that won the showrunners’ favor. It was also the incident that revealed the host’s resentment toward Sero. She'd asked them not to talk about it.

“You're selling yourself short, Chargebolt,” she says, evading his question all together. Her smile is tight and thin, lips barely moving. Kaminari’s smile dims. His eyes strike like flint in the light.

“I'm really not. I'm just showing Cellophane the respect he deserves.”

The host stares. Sero stares. Just like that Kaminari’s smile is back, a thousand watts beaming right at the audience.

“So let's show him some respect, huh?”

He starts clapping. The audience joins in, and so does the host, grudgingly. Sero is breathless with an emotion he can't name.

After the show is over and the autographs are signed and the host huffs past them, Sero catches Kaminari’s elbow. “Dude, what was all that?”

“I know, I know, it was petty. Aw man, Bakugou’s going to rip me a new one. Or maybe he’ll say it was about time.”

“It’s not like I don’t appreciate it, but you shouldn’t have done that,”

They exit the stage, leave the cameras and the oppressive heat of lights behind them. It takes Sero a moment to adjust but even in silhouette he can see the edge to Kaminari’s movements. The anxious flickering of his hands. Blue sparks at his fingertips. Agitation as he whips off the accessories of his costume, his glasses, his earpiece.

“I know, but she always does this, treats you like crap--”

“It's fine--”

“No, it's not fine. You hate it when they call you that.”

Sero stops walking. They're steps away from the changing room. Behind that door are their civilian clothes and their normal lives, and Kaminari’s hand is on the doorknob when he realizes that Sero is not with him. He turns. His face softens. His hand finds Sero’s hand, and for once he doesn't say a single thing as he opens the door and leads Sero through it.

----

The villain was robbing a bank with two accomplices. Technically Sero isn’t on call, but he’s made it a habit to tape his costume to an alley wall or rooftop when he’s out just in case. This was one of those cases--despite detouring back to the restaurant for his costume he’s still the first one on the scene by a long shot. Everyone else is busy or off duty or too far. Sometimes this happens. Sero’s dealt with worse.

Catching the first two was easy enough. There was a man with rubber limbs and another with mouths all over his body, neither of whom struck Sero as the brains of the operation. The last villain nearly got away in the chaos of the evacuation, but Sero caught up with her in the park across the street, trying to flee with a duffel bag full of money. She didn’t seem particularly unhappy that he found her.

She calls herself Amp, though her quirk seems to bear no similarity to Jirou’s. Not that Sero has a clear picture on what that quirk is. He's been holding her off on his own for fifteen minutes now, most of which has entailed them dancing around each other. Every time he tries to restrain her she fists her hands in his tape and a strange tingling sensation shivers up to him. He releases before the tingling turns into something worse, which he's certain it will, and then they’re back to square one.

“Remind me of your name, hero,” she says, bouncing back from a lunge. She unwinds another loose strip of tape from her wrists. “I told you mine, it's only fair.”

“Well, my mom told me not to talk to strangers, but since I really care about playing fair with villains--”

“No wait, don't tell me!” There's something wild in her eyes that makes him uneasy. They've been hopping around nonstop and she's barely winded. “I recognize you. Barely. Has anyone told you you're kind of plain? Don't worry, I'll get it,”

“Aw, you'll hurt my feelings.” He shoots low, yanks her ankles out from under her. Before she can get a hand in his tape he's released it, tries to pin her arms to her sides while she's freeing her legs--

Except she's not distracted. She catches the next string and tries to pull him off balance--pins and needles shoot up his arm, he detatches the tape--she springs for him as soon as she's loose, a hand reaching through his visor--

He tapes a lamppost and rips himself away. The air is sharp and too cold, on his face, in his lungs. Amp is laughing, tossing his helmet from hand to hand.

“I remember now!” she says. “You're from Ground Zero’s agency. You're not bad, but you're not great. Definitely not in the top ten. What do they call you again? Jack of all trades?”

“Got it in one.” Sero stands on the lamppost and he grins, and he catches his breath, and he considers his options. Not many. Kaminari and Mina are off duty. They might get an emergency alert, or see it on the news, but it’ll be a while. On the other hand Kirishima and Bakugou are busy with a villain across the city, though last he saw the HUD in his visor said they were on their way. Other heroes will assume they’ve got it handled, so no help there, but Red Riot and Ground Zero should be here any minute now. He should be relieved.

“There's more than that though, isn't there?” Amp taps her chin with one finger. Her smile is cruel. “Master of none, I think that's it. Figures I'd get the loser of the agency.”

“Pretty embarrassing that a loser’s kept you here for so long,  huh?”

Her eyes widen, her smile fixes on her face. She has an ego, he realizes, an exploitable one. He hops down and this time she leaps for him with less grace; he doesn’t manage to catch her as she stumbles past him but he snags the duffel bag. She cries out as he winds it up and sticks it to the top of the lamppost, out of her reach.

“You’re going to regret that,” she says. Her grin promises that much, and he has a sinking feeling she might be right, but he matches her smile tooth for tooth.

“That’s pretty unoriginal. I’m disappointed.”

“Fine. Then how about—”

Sero is spared whatever unsavory threat she was about to make by the explosive entrance of Bakugou and Kirishima. They barely look winded from their own fight; Sero is filled with relief and dread at the sight of them.

“Good job holding her on your own, Cellophane,” Kirishima says, and Bakugou says, “You had twenty minutes, Soy Sauce, why the fuck isn’t she down yet?”

Sero fills them in. “She calls herself Amp. I don't know what her quirk is but I think she needs direct touch to activate it.”

“Ooh, the number five hero and the number one hero, both here for little old me. How flattering!” Amp’s eyes flash. “Or was it number two today? I can never tell if you or Deku are on top.”

Bakugou growls, but Kirishima’s arm across his chest bars him from getting too close.

“Surrender,” Kirishima says. “You can't beat all three of us. Don't make this hard on yourself.”

“Hard on yourself, ha! That's a good one, Hardening Hero. I always liked you.” She winks. Bakugou growls louder. “I like you so much, in fact, that I'll listen to you. There's no way I can take on two top ten heroes.” A sharp little barb, but Sero’s used to the insult. “Take me in. I'll go peacefully.”

She pulls a pair of gloves from her pocket. Puts them on, holds out her hands, palms up.

The heroes share a few searching, suspicious looks; Amp waits patiently. Bakugou nods once in Sero’s direction, but when he lifts his arms and steps toward her--

“I was talking to Red Riot,” Amp snaps. Her hands are bare and facing him--he didn't even see her whip the gloves off. “Back off, Jack. I go peacefully with him or no deal.”

“She's bluffing and she's shitty at it,” says Bakugou. “Let's just knock her out and drag her ass to jail.”

She throws one hand in his direction. “That means you too, Number Two. It's Red Riot or I make your life hell and involve as many bystanders as possible.”

Bakugou looks more than willing to risk it, but Kirishima’s hand stops him again. Sero doesn't hear what he whispers but he can tell Bakugou doesn't like it. Still, he lowers his sparking hands to his sides, and Kirishima gives his shoulder a squeeze. He moves forward.

“Gloves on, Amp. Palms together, fingers folded.” To Sero he says, “Cellophane, some tape?”

Sero frowns between them--Amp’s smirk and Bakugou’s scowl and Kirishima’s private, reassuring smile. He doesn’t feel reassured. He’s not comfortable with this at all. He was fighting her for nearly half an hour and the sudden hairpin turn to docile screams trap. But he trusts Kirishima, and he trusts Bakugou who also trusts Kirishima, and he’s not a top ten hero like either of them, is he? So whose judgment matters more?

He slings Kirishima a long string of tape, who takes it and promptly winds it around Amp’s hands. She’s still smiling. Why won’t she stop smiling? Bakugou’s whole body is still with violent, uncut tension. Kirishima is tying off the tape, and it’s taking him too long, too long, Sero’s insides rattle when she leans forward to whisper something in his ear--

Bite, not whisper.

Kirishima screams, and he hardens, and he screams, and he goes Unbreakable, and he screams, and he--he hardens further, bulks out in geode fractals as he screams and screams and screams--

He's not the only one screaming. “I'll kill you!”

“Ground Zero, don’t--!”

It’s too late. Kirishima’s jagged body slices through the tape and gloves, and by then Bakugou has already exploded into Amp’s range. He's roaring, and she's laughing, and they're reaching for each other. Sero is reaching for them too, but he's not fast enough. He watches it happen in slow motion: Amp’s fingers brush Bakugou’s elbow, Bakugou’s hand detonates, Sero’s tape wraps around their waists, in that order. Bakugou’s hand sails past her ear and the explosion goes off behind her head and it grows, and grows, and grows until it engulfs the whole bank. Sero doesn’t have time to feel horror because the shockwave sends Bakugou and Amp flying. His arms burn to keep up with them, but just as he starts to reel them back in, the strange zing travels through the tape and shivers up all the bones in his right arm. He detatches from her before whatever happened to his teammates can happen to him. Amp hits the ground and lands in a roll, tape puddling around her ankles. Bakugou is a dead weight in Sero’s arms, the force of the explosion and the energy it zapped from him rendering him unconscious. Sero risks a glance over his shoulder: Kirishima is out too, blown back into another building, still monstrous.

But they’re both alive. That’s what Sero focuses on as Amp flashes bloody teeth in a ragged mouth. Hot fear fills up the hollow of his stomach, but they’re alive, and that’s all that matters.

“Looks like it’s just us again,” he says, biding time. The heat of the burning building buffets him, simmers away in his belly. He slings Bakugou a safe distance away; she tracks the motion with her eyes but doesn’t go after him. Good.

“Oh, yippee, just me and Mr. Average.” She rolls her eyes, but her smile turns indulgent. “Honestly, though, I was most impressed with you. Red Riot and Ground Zero were kind of a let down, huh?”

She’s trying to bait him, but he doesn’t have the luxury of being reckless right now. No one is coming to his rescue because no one has reason to believe all three of them couldn’t handle one bank robber. If he’s lucky someone will check out the explosion, but he can’t rely on that. For now it’s just him. Sero, Cellophane, Jack. Master of none.

He keeps his body firmly planted between her and his friends and grins as though his knees aren’t shaking.

“You are a brave one,” she says, sweetly. “For someone so much lower on the totem pole. After what I did to them, what do you think I can do to you?”

“I'll take my chances,” he says, and takes care to keep his tone light and dismissive. Without his helmet she can see all the teeth in his broad smile. “I mean, none of us have ever heard of you. So if I'm an average hero, relatively unknown, then I guess we make a good match.”

That does the trick: she barrels at him, full tilt. Reckless. Her focus is tunneled enough that when she deflects the tape going for her face, she doesn’t see the string going for her ankles. The tape only catches one foot but she’s down, winded and bloody. Both hands on the ground to steady her. This is his chance—if he can tape her hands up before she gets her bearings, he wins. He skids a few steps closer, aims and fires, with both arms.

They are a good match, really. He got her for being reckless. She gets him for being too eager.

Turns out she’s not very winded at all—bloody and wild-eyed, but not down for the count by any means. The tape circles her wrists but she twists one hand in it and tugs, sharply, stronger than he gave her credit for. Stupid. Amateur. He detaches too late. The momentum of her pull carries him through, drags him until they’re on their knees before one another. She snarls a hand in his hair and then—

Then Sero is unraveling. Unwinding. Unbecoming, entirely.

It's like his whole body wakes up and goes into overdrive. Like she just reached inside his chest and cranked some dial up to a thousand and blew a fuse, the machine in him smoking and spitting sparks and overheating and dying, dying, dying. Tape shoots from his arms until they burn, until his whole body burns, until he’s crying and vomiting and there’s nothing left to give. Then it keeps coming anyway.

He doesn’t know how long he’s suspended there, unspooling. His tape is everywhere, piled high around him, boxing him in. All he wants to do fall. Curl up on the floor in the billowing white nest of himself before there’s nothing left. She doesn’t let him--she’s standing now and her grip on his hair is the only thing holding him up. Sero gags, and then he chokes. For one horrific, blinding moment he knows that this is how he's going to die: on his knees, asphyxiating on his own bile, completely undone.

A weak jolt of electricity steals into his body, but for Amp it must be stronger. She yelps and lets go of his hair; he crumples in a heap of tape and bones. On the ground he convulses. He doesn't even have the energy to detatch.

“Cellophane!”

He knows that voice. He opens his eyes without realizing he closed them and the world is sideways now: Sero stares from a distant place at the two figures fast approaching, small but getting bigger. Mina, gliding across the rooftops with Kaminari held tight to her hip. He zaps them between buildings, and even from this distance Sero can read the horror on his face.

No. No, anyone but him. An amplification of Kaminari’s quirk--it would kill him and everyone in a five block radius. Either Amp doesn’t know or doesn’t care, because she’s running straight for him. Kaminari’s going to die. Mina’s going to die. Kirishima and Bakugou and all the civilians are going to die.

He twitches. The streamers of tape still attached to his body rustle just enough to catch the toe of Amp’s boot.

She goes down hard, sprawling, end over end and when she comes back up the blood on her face is bright and angry in the light of the fire. It's the first time he's seen her without a smile. That's a small victory on its own.

“You.” She growls it as he pushes himself to standing. It takes him three tries. “You just don't know when to quit, do you?”

That’s something he has going for him, he supposes. He may not be as determined as Midoriya, or as passionate as Bakugou, but he’s a hero. He’ll persevere all the same.

“You're not in the top ten,” she snarls. “You're barely even in the top twenty. Who do you think you are?”

“I'm Cellophane,” he rasps. “Jack of all trades and the hero who just beat you.”

He snaps all the tape tight tight tight, just once, and Amp shrieks as the avalanche buries her and pins her down. Her quirk is still in effect, Sero knows because tape keeps ribboning out of him like an open faucet, but at least he can't feel it. He can't really feel anything. And then the world is sideways again, because apparently he collapsed at some point when he wasn’t paying attention. From an echoey, greyscale place he watches smoke plume into the sky. Between one blink and the next Kaminari is there. His eyes are big and bright and amber in the glow of the fire, the only spot of color. He's holding Sero’s face in his hands. It might be romantic in a different context.

“Detatch your tape,” Kaminari says again--is it again? How many times has he said it? “Cellophane--Sero, please, you have to--”

“Move,” Mina shoulders him out of the way. Maybe she melts through the tape or maybe she doesn't. He can't tell. He can't tell much of anything anymore. The world winks out, and Sero thinks, finally.

----

Of course it’s disorienting at first, but it doesn’t take too long for Sero to piece together that he’s in a hospital. He’s been in enough of them to know. Everything hurts, but in a drug-dulled kind of way, so it could probably be worse. Tubes and needles everywhere. There’s a blob of yellow at his bedside, and a fuzzy warmth in his hand. He blinks. Kaminari. Kaminari, playing with his fingers. He can’t really feel it, but it does stupid things to his heart to see. Maybe he’s dreaming.

“Hey, dummy,” Kaminari says. His smile looks wobbly and his eyes look damp. Not a dream, but the emotion in Kaminari’s face is probably just Sero’s imagination. “We thought we lost you for a minute there. How are you feeling?”

Sero tries to ask how the others are, Kirishima and Bakugou and Mina, and did they catch Amp, and did they put out the fire, and are the civilians safe, but his throat is too dry and cracked from disuse. Kaminari seems to understand his feeble wheezing anyway, because the wobbly look turns exasperated.

“They’re fine, everyone’s fine. They're grabbing lunch now, but they all want to see you. Can you worry about yourself for once?”

Sero tries for a smile; that feels cracked too. Kaminari watches and something in his face turns fragile, or so it seems to Sero, but he squeezes Sero’s hand and smiles back.

Kaminari fills Sero in on the details: they did catch Amp, Sero’s been out for roughly two days, Bakugou and Kirishima woke up yesterday. Bakugou was furious that an amateur villain got the better of him. The flowers on the side table are a get well gift sent from the office of Dr. Skye, with a toothbrush and floss bundle included. They’re pretty flowers, yellow daubs of cheer in the otherwise drab white room. Kaminari frowns at them, but it's hard to tell what for. “Hey, I’m sorry if this thing with Amp ruined your date, man. At least it looks like he’s still into you. Maybe he’s a keeper.”

“It’s funny that you think I need Amp to ruin my love life,” Sero says. He blinks at the shape his words take in his ear; he imagines an animate cheese grater would sound the same. “Nah, I ruined it all by myself. He just sent those because he’s a nice guy.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Kaminari sounds as though he isn’t sure what else to say. Sero sighs, and remembers that he’s still very tired.

“Don’t be. It was my fault. He realized that I was still hung up on someone else.”

Kaminari’s eyes cut quick, lightning paths to him. Huh. He may have given too much away. Drugs might be stronger than he thought.

“Then,” Kaminari says, and hesitates, a complicated twist of emotions passing over his features. “Then I guess I’m not sorry.”

The moment becomes charged, suddenly. The air between them. Sero licks his lips.

“Thanks for being here,” he says. It's mostly air. Kaminari’s laugh is air too, airy and wet and surprised.

“Of course I'm here. Can't let my best friend wake up alone, can I?”

“Kirishima’s your best friend.” Oh. Oh no. Did he say that out loud? He didn't mean to say that out loud.

Kaminari’s whole body goes kind of slack, and then it tightens up again. He looks annoyed, but not before he looks very, very sad.

“You're an idiot,” he says, and Sero splutters.

“Wh--that's rich, coming from you!”

“Yeah, it is. Is that what this is about? Is that what this is all about? We're twenty seven years old, how was this not made abundantly clear in high school? Kirishima is my best friend, yeah. And so is Bakugou and so is Mina and so is Jirou. And so are you, dumbass.”

Sero blinks, once, sluggishly. “Huh?”

“Sero.” Kaminari looks right at him. The lighting isn’t as romantic as a fancy restaurant or a burning bank but his eyes are still beautiful, and damp and earnest, though Sero is imagining those last two, he has to be. “You’re incredible. We’re all strong on our own but the only reason our agency is the best is because of you, you know that, right? Didn’t I say that? You glue us all together.”

Oh. Oh, shit, Sero isn’t imagining it because if Kaminari weren’t being so earnest he would totally have said tape instead of glue. That can’t be. Can it?

“Stop,” he says.

“And it’s more than that. You’re funny, and you’re nice, and you’re always smiling, even when it’s for everyone else’s sake and not your own. You’re my best friend, Sero, you’re more than that, you’re--”

“Stop.”

Sero’s limbs are still fuzzy-numb but he presses his hands over Kaminari’s mouth as best he can. He ends up sort of mashing his hand over Kaminari’s whole face instead. Pretty good, he thinks. Pretty good at everything. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’m not that great.” He clears his throat a time or three. “I'm no Ground Zero or Deku. I’m no Red Riot or Alien Queen.”

“I don’t want you to be any of them,” Kaminari says. Sero can feel his lips moving against his fingers and it’s killing him. “You’re perfect just being Sero.”

“Thank you. I’m lucky to have you as a friend.”

His hand flops back to the bed, and Kaminari—he looks surprised. Then he looks confused. Then he looks suspicious. Then he looks angrily suspicious.

“Do you,” he starts, narrows his eyes and starts again, “Do you not know how I feel about you?”

Sero considers giving up on trying to understand what’s happening. He shrugs a little helplessly. “Well, you just said I was your best friend, which is a hell of a surprise. Good kind, though.” Kaminari does not stop looking angrily suspicious. In fact it looks like anger might be winning out. “I mean. I mean, I think it’s the good kind? Are you okay?”

“Before this. Before all this—ten years ago. You didn’t know how I felt ten years ago?”

“Um. You definitely thought of me as a good friend. Just a friend.” Oh, huh. He hadn’t meant to put that stress on the just. Definitely stronger drugs than he thought, oh.

“Just a—” Suddenly the anger peaks. Sero’s sheets crackle with static and the lights and medical screens flicker. It gives out into something else before sparks start flying. Kaminari presses his forehead to Sero’s knuckles. He looks a little like he's praying. “Do you remember what happened after I kissed you ten years ago?”

Sero blinks once. He blinks a lot. “You started talking about Jirou.”

“No, you started talking about Jirou.”

“What?” says Sero, because what the fuck? “No. No, you kissed me and then you said that you wanted to ask out Jirou and you asked my advice and I said go for it.”

Kaminari sighs with his whole body. He turns his head to meet Sero’s eyes. His voice is patient and exasperated. “No. I kissed you, and then you got this dumb frozen look that you have now, and then you told me you’d had the bright idea that I should ask out Jirou. You said we’d make a good couple. We got along so well. You were rooting for us.”

Sero stares at him. Kaminari’s cheek on the flat of Sero’s hand, an annoyed twist to his mouth. His fringe in danger of falling into his eyes. He's beautiful. It hurts to look at him.

“Oh my god,” says Sero. “I said you should ask out Jirou.”

Kaminari explodes. So does one lightbulb. “You said I should ask out Jirou! The girl who's been in love with YaoMomo since our first year! After I kissed you!”

“Oh my god. I’m an idiot.” The whole world is flipping upside down and Sero has to fist the bed sheets to keep from tumbling ass over teakettle. He forgot that. How did he forget that? “Well—well, why did you do it, then?”

He gets a withering look for that, though Kaminari’s cheeks do seem to pinken a little. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t panic after you bear your soul to a guy and he tells you to date someone else?”

Okay, that’s grounding. Good to know Kaminari is still a lovable dummy. Sero relaxes by degrees. “You didn’t have to actually go on a date with her, though.”

“I panicked. You told me to so I said I would and I didn’t know where to go from there. Jirou is a good friend and she indulged me. And you lost the right to make fun of me when you stomped all over my heart and then forgot about it! I’ve been pining like a sap for ten fucking years, man, I thought you just pitied me!”

Kaminari throws himself across the bed, face down; Sero knows he should feel bad for being the architect of his own romantic angst, and he knows he should feel worse for reinforcing a decade long misunderstanding, and he does, and he will, but Kaminari is too melodramatic to play a very convincing injured party. Sero pets his hair, slides his fingers into it, and Kaminari lets him. It’s kind of tacky with sweat and old gel—he’s been here for a long time. Probably hasn’t even showered, which is gross. Sero loves him so desperately it hurts.

“I've liked you since I was fifteen,” Sero says. “You're my favorite person.”

“I like you a lot, Sero,” Kaminari says to the covers. His voice is muffled, but also it’s quiet, and small. “A lot a lot. Can I kiss you and you not tell me to kiss someone else this time?”

“Wow,” says Sero, because he can’t think of anything else to say. Kaminari peeks up at him; whatever he sees makes him look as vulnerable as Sero feels and then he’s—wow. Wow.

The EKG machine, previously silent and satisfied with Sero’s resting heart rate, starts to chirp in distress. Sero barely hears it. By the time a nurse bustles in the machine is wailing and Kaminari has Sero pressed into the mattress with his full weight, tongue in his mouth, hands in his hair, and Sero thinks, deliriously, helplessly, that if he died like this he could only be so lucky.

----

Three days after being discharged from the hospital and the guilt finally hits him.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He’s holding a button up shirt of dabbing Santas that Kaminari got him for Christmas five years ago. “I think I’m—I get kind of stupid, when it comes to you. It’s hard to imagine that you could really—for me—it’s just. It’s just that you deserve the best.”

Kaminari snorts a little. He plucks the shirt from Sero’s hands and folds it. “You are an idiot.”

Okay, he doesn’t really fold it. He mostly crumples it into a ball and stuffs it in the duffel bag next to the clothes Sero has actually folded. There are two more duffels just like this already waiting by the door. (He should probably invest in a real suitcase.) The picture frames and wall scrolls and floor lamps are in the car. They’ve already moved the big furniture. The place that was his home is disconcertingly bare, suddenly. Bigger and lonelier than it's ever been.

Kaminari singsongs, “Do you really think I’d accept anything less than the best?” and just like that any lingering traces of wistful nostalgia are whisked away.

Now it’s Sero’s turn to snort. “You would accept anything on two legs.”

“Lies and slander. I am a dignified superhero. Very respectable.”

Sero laughs. Guffaws. Hoots, because that’s hysterical. “You, respectable!”

“Shut up, man, I am! I have very high standards.” Kaminari starts to chuck socks at him.

“High standards!”

Once they’re done here they’ll transport the suitcases to Kaminari’s apartment, and then they’ll head for work. Grab some beers with the rest of the agency after that and share the big news. (Mina already knows, because she always knows these things.) Then they’ll go home, together. To their life: goofy posters and classic Japanese wall art. Take out boxes and healthy fruits and vegetables. Clothes folded and crumpled and side by side.

Kaminari abandons balled up clothing projectiles in favor of a direct attack. His hands are staticky and wedged in Sero’s sides and his armpits, but Sero has the advantage of long and wiggly fingers and he’s not about to lose so easily. They roll around. They spill the suitcase. Kaminari kisses him, which isn’t fair at all, and he says, “I have high standards. The highest standards. I only accept the absolute best. Get it?”

He’s not laughing anymore. Sero touches his face and his eyes flutter shut.

“I get it. Hey. I get it, it’s okay.”

“It’s such a—it’s so stupid, jack of all trades, you’re so much more, I wish I could just—”

“If we ever get invited back for another interview, you can rub our relationship in her face. How’s that sound?”

Kaminari’s eyes pop open. He clutches Sero’s hand on his cheek and static dances all over his skin. It feels sweet. That’s probably just in his head but he doesn’t care.

“Oh my god yes. I love you, yes, let’s do it. We’ll be so lovey dovey we’ll knock Kirishima and Bakugou right out of third place on JP’s Best Heroic Couple Billboard.”

“Hell, let's go for first. Eat your heart out, Midoriya.”

It seems this renders Kaminari speechless, because then he’s kissing him again. Sero can’t complain. For the first time in a long time he’s not satisfied with being average, not about this. He wants more. He is more.

Jack of all trades. Ha. Eat your heart out, Jack.

----

----

[the dabbing santa shirt exists and it’s beautiful. i hope and pray that no one figures out the inspiration for skye]

[melodramaticfanatic-blog]

Lucky in Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Warnings: It’s safe to assume that all my stories are going to have at least a little NSFW, 18+ and language. Just how I write.

Summary: Y/N became friends with Chris Evans shortly before Captain America fame made him a superstar. Now they’ve been through a lot together but Chris has always wanted more A/N: For @troublermalik. Chris Evans one shot with fluff and some NSFW/smut. This got long (WAY TOO LONG for a one shot probably) because I kept working on it and then putting it on hold and then today hormones made me their bitch so I went in on it HARD (while crying over the soundtrack from The Greatest Showman, naturally.) so sorry or whatever. Oh, and I hate this title!! I tried like 3 and didn’t like any of them

Word count: 8575 roughly.

Gif not mine, credit to owner

Y/N breaking her tooth was the best thing that had ever happened to Chris Evans. It may have been painful for her and required an emergency visit to a dentist, but if she hadn’t slipped while bowling and managed to fall at exactly the wrong angle, they may never have met. 

It had happened 2 years ago. Y/N had been on a blind date, a set up through one of her friends, and the man took her to a cosmic bowling alley. The lanes were dark, disco balls and black lights flashing against neon paint as classic rock pumped out of the speakers. Although the idea for the evening was great and Y/N wanted to enjoy herself, the man who was accompanying her was the worst kind of date. He was overly competitive about the score, utterly uninterested in talking to her (not that he could have even if he wanted to with the volume of the music), and far too interested in her various body parts. 

All in all, when the laces of the rental shoes untied (something Y/N didn’t notice due to the dim lighting) and caused her to stumble onto the slippery wax lanes where she promptly fell on her face, it wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. At least that was her immediate thought before she realized that she had chipped her tooth and the broken shard had injured her lip leaving her with a bloody mouth and damaged smile. She had bid a quick farewell to her date, promising to reschedule without any intention of actually following through on it, and left the lanes while searching google for the closest dentist’s office. That dentist just happened to be Dr. Robert Evans, who’s son Chris was lucky enough to be in the office visiting when Y/N arrived as he had just gotten home from filming his upcoming Marvel debut, “Captain America: The First Avenger”. Despite her bloody mouth and eventual slurred speech due to novocain, Chris and Y/N had hit it off immediately. 

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“You have no idea who you’re messing with.” Y/N narrowed her eyes at Chris and tried her best to look intimidating despite the fact that the man was several inches taller than her with the physique of a superhero...literally. 

“Bring it on Y/N,” Chris taunted back. 

“I’m warning you...”

“If you’re so confident, why not make this interesting?” he retorted with his characteristic easy charm. Despite his light tone there was an undercurrent of competitiveness to his words. Chris played to win at everything in life.

Y/N sized the man up and arched an eyebrow. ���Name your terms.”

“If your skills are what you say they are-”

“They are,” she interjected.

“Well then, I’ll owe you a six pack of beer to drink while I wash your car. If, by some freak accident, I prove to be more talented in this particular arena than you are though...” Chris smirked at her for a moment as he thought about what he’d claim as a prize. Then his entire face lit up with mischievous delight. “You’ll be accompanying me to the upcoming Avengers red carpet premier.”

Y/N pursed her lips as she thought about the stipulations. She felt very confident in herself but if something did go wrong...she didn’t like the idea of going to a premier. She had been photographed several times while hanging out with Chris and her picture had even gotten into the tabloids. It was not the most pleasant experience in the world. Many of his fans knew about her; she was his best friend after all so he had mentioned her in interviews a few times. Most fans were very nice in regard to her relationship with Chris, they knew she dated other men and knew that Chris dated other women so they did not see her as a threat. Every time her picture appeared in a tabloid next to the Captain however, a new outcry would rise from the internet and she would be hit with waves of negative comments and anonymous hatred from obsessed fan girls. Going to a premier where there would be rows upon rows of journalists and photographers seemed like pushing her luck. 

“Scared Y/N?” Chris had his most dangerous smirk firmly in place, one side of his mouth lifted and his brow quirked. It was obvious to Y/N that he was teetering on the edge of laughter, ready to break out any second in the full body shaking peals that were never far from the surface. 

“Of you?” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly. “Never. I just feel bad that all the paparazzi are gonna be able to snap pictures of you washing my car. Maybe they’ll publish articles speculating about if you’re broke and working for me to make ends meet!”

His smirk just got wider. “Just remember, I like how you look in silver.”

“Thanks but I won’t need to know that. Now stand back in awe.”

Y/N pushed her hand against Chris’s chest lightly and the man took a step back chuckling, more likely to be kind than because the shove had any effect on him. She positioned her feet carefully, shoulder width apart and narrowed her eyes with focus. Her fingers tightened around the grip of the club in her hand and she drew her arms back slowly before swinging them out again in a gentle arc, knocking the bottom of the metal putter against the brightly colored ball on the ground. It connected with a pleasing knock and spun forward along the artificial grass.

“Go baby, go...” Y/N muttered under her breath as she tracked the ball’s progress. “Curve for me...!”

As though the ball could hear what she was asking of it, it swerved and began to ride along the ridge of a hill.

“Yes...yes...YES!” The ball found the perfect course trajectory and dropped into a small cup next to the large flag that marked the hole. “Hole in one! Fear my mini golf genius, Evans!”

Y/N jumped into the air and came down to rest on one knee, celebrating as if she were Tiger Woods and had just won the PGA cup. Chris couldn’t resist shaking with laughter at the display, his right hand coming up to grab his left pectoral as it always did when he laughed uncontrollably. 

“We’ve got a long course to play here, Y/N. Don’t get cocky on me now.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Y/N retorted with a serious air before her face turned wicked. “Being cocky is your job.”

Chris shook his head and positioned himself at the line between artificial grass and sidewalk. All around him, children and families were delighting in the amusements of the mini golf course: chasing balls that had escaped into water hazards, taking pictures with the fake dinosaurs that lined the Jurassic themed diversion, laughing and lamenting their poor luck as they came out of a hole that was only par 2 with more than 5 strokes. 

He and Y/N often ended up in strange contests like this as they were both competitive and had a fondness for sports...or at least sport like activities. They had done everything from beach volleyball to ultimate frisbee, usually with a small wager attached to the win. Most nights, Chris wanted to win because he liked to win. Tonight however, he wanted to win so that he could have Y/N on his arm at the upcoming premier. He had just broken up again with his on-again / off-again girlfriend and knew that showing up at the premier alone would only result in him being bored out of his mind most of the night. Y/N would absolutely prevent that; she was always fun to be around. 

“You going to shoot your shot Evans or have I intimidated you into quitting already?”

“Oh please, my skills are hotter than the fire coming from that very fake volcano.”

Y/N cocked her hip out slightly and braced her hand against it, striking the international pose of female confidence as her face resolved into an expression of exasperated incredulity. Chris tried not to focus on her, tempting as it was to ignore the game and spend his time watching Y/N and laughing in the unrestrained way she always caused. Instead, he trained his eyes on the blue ball he had picked out (a choice that Y/N had made some very uncouth remarks over) and concentrated on hitting it with enough force to find the cup but not the excessive amount that would cause it to skip right over the hole. With an apparent lack of effort, Chris managed to sink his shot in one as well. 

“Oooooh,” he chuckled and shook his head. “What’s Danny gonna say when you tell him you can’t go out for date night because you’ll be on my arm?”

“I don’t think he’ll be too upset,” Y/N deadpanned back. “After all, I’m sure he’ll be out with his new girlfriend that night.”

“You guys broke up?”

“Yeah, earlier this week.” Y/N ran a hand through her hair, mussing it up prettily as she led the way to the next patch of green. “He was too needy, ya know? Everything was always about him. Like, I’d get home from working a 10 hour shift and he’d be there asking me why I hadn’t made him dinner.” She shook her head in a frustrated way. “Who looks at me and thinks Stepford Wife?”

It’s definitely not the first thought I have, Chris mused silently. My first thought has always been...no, never mind. Better not to acknowledge that thought. 

“Wow, bad time of year for romance all around, I guess.”

Y/N looked at him in confusion, one eyebrow arched delicately. 

“Jenny and I broke up again too,” he clarified. 

“Dude, you know I love Jenny,” Y/N began, her shoulders slumping as she looked at her friend, “but I seriously do not understand how you do it. I get whiplash just watching your relationship from the outside. How do you even keep track of if you’re together or not?”

“Maybe that’s been the problem all along, Y/N. I was thinking we were together when she was thinking we weren’t...we’re just on the wrong schedule! You’ve solved it, Dr. Phil!”

“Don’t you sass me, Evans,” she said as she reached out to smack his large bicep playfully. “I’m not afraid to call your mother.”

“Ok, ok, I’m just teasing. Nah, Jenny is great...and when it works, it’s great. But...” he trailed off with a shrug. 

“But how often does it work? Like a rough percentage?”

“Maybe...10% of the time?”

Y/N looked back at him with her eyebrows raised, her face expectant as he thought over what he had just said. 

“Yeah, I get you. If it’s only working 10% of the time, the other 90% sucks.” 

She nodded at him, a hint of sadness in her face. “You deserve better than 90% suckage Chris.”

Chris knew that Y/N was serious whenever she called him by his first name. Most of the time she referred to him simply as Evans or by some new mocking nickname she had crowned him with. Despite their teasing banter, the two were very close and cared for each other deeply. He knew that she wanted to see him happy just as much as he wanted that for her. 

“I’m tired of the whole relationship thing at the moment,” Y/N continued. “It never seems like the people involved are on the same page. It’s never just relaxed and easy. Like this! The way that we are together.” Y/N reached out and laid her hand against Chris’s chest, stopping their progress along the course so that she could look him in the eyes. “Everything is always good between us. We can talk about anything, we can always have fun, we’re tend to agree on the big stuff and be on the same wavelength...why can’t real relationships work like this?”

Chris gave an easy shrug and shook his head, watching as Y/N turned to move on to the next hole. Real relationships. We could have a real relationship, he thought, we could have a great relationship, even better than what you just described. If only you felt the same.

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“HA! Hahahahahahaha,” Chris had burst into the kind of laughter that doubled him over in exaltation. It ripped out of his belly and shook every muscle in his well toned body as he gripped his pectoral with one hand, his other hand holding Y/N’s shoulder as an anchor. 

“Not fair! If I hadn’t messed up the 12th hole so badly, I could have won!”

Chris could only shake his head as he laughed. He hadn’t just beaten Y/N, he had destroyed her. 

“Seriously, I think there was like, water on that hole or something. There is no WAY it should have taken me over 8 strokes to make a par 2 hole. STOP LAUGHING YOU BIG JERK!” She whined in a voice of fake outrage. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Chris sighed as he finally caught his breath. “You’re my favorite thing in the whole world.”

“Ha! I’ll believe I rank in the top 10, Evans, but I’m not claiming the top spot with your nieces and nephews around. Hell, I’m pretty sure even Dodger comes ahead of me on that list,” she scoffed. “Which is fair as he is such a great dog.”

He just smiled back at her indulgently, trying not to let on how wrong she was. “Whatever you say babe. Now, about what you’ll be wearing to the premier-”

“UUGGGHH!!”

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“UUUGGGHH!!! GRRRR!!! ARRRGGGH!!!”

“You can moan all you want, girlfriend. You made the bet, you have to deal with the consequences.” Y/N’s roommate, Angie, said in her thick New York City accent as she stood outside the bedroom. Years of being away from the city had done nothing to change how she spoke. 

Y/N felt like she had been groaning and moaning ever since she had lost to Chris that night at the golf course. She would never go back on her word so she had gone out and gotten a great gown, silver as requested, and prepared for tonight with a pedicure, manicure and professionally done make up and hair, but none of it had done much to calm her nerves. As happy and relaxed as she always was with her best friend, the spotlight was not her comfort zone. She didn’t want to think about how the next few hours would be spent in front of hundreds of people and in the company of movie stars. Sure, Chris was a movie star...but he was also just Chris. Silly, puppy-dog, can’t stop laughing, dork, sweetest human being alive Chris. Hanging out with him was like snuggling in a giant sweater. He was all fluff and comfort. Tonight was going to be a whole different ball game. 

“Seriously Ange...I’m not saying that I won’t go, but seriously...what am I doing?!”

“I can’t believe you’re whining about this, Y/N,” Angie replied with a roll of her eyes. “You’re going to the premier of a huge Hollywood movie where you’ll be next to some of the hottest men in the known universe. Oh yeah, and you’ll be there as the date of one of those absolute hotties. What is there to complain about?”

“Don’t call Chris a hottie...it’s weird.”

“He is a hottie. I can’t change the facts, girl. The fact that you are somehow magically blind to his intense good looks doesn’t mean I am.”

Y/N looked at her roommate and frowned. She wasn’t immune to Chris’s good looks; you’d have to be 10 kinds of stupid not to notice that the man was handsome. It was more that she chose not to think about him that way. Keeping him solidly locked in her mind under the label of “Friend” made everything much simpler. 

“If you’re going to stand there and mock me, the least you could do is tell me how I look?”

Y/N gave a small spin for her roommate. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant style that she would never be able to replicate again, which complemented her sleek gown nicely. The structured bodice hugged her beautifully and pushed her chest up to put a decent amount of cleavage on display. Its straps lay off the shoulders, a delicate drape of fabric brushing against her upper arm, and the fabric continued in long swaths down the back of the gown, creating a train-like effect. The skirt itself had a small train, really just a puddle of fabric attached to the slim tube that was fitted to her legs. The whole gown fit like a dream, she hadn’t even needed alterations, which was the main reason she had picked this one. 

“You look amazing. You’ll fit right in. In fact, I’ll be surprised if you don’t come home with a date...if you get your choice of the men, go for Tom Hiddleston. I’ve seen him dance; I think you could make good use of the way those hips move.”

“Angie!” Y/N cried out in shock just as there was a knock on the door. 

“What? I’m human, girlfriend.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N responded, brushing by her roommate. “You’re something alright.”

Quickly checking her hair in a mirror and smoothing her hands over the front of the dress, Y/N opened up the door. Chris was standing in the hallway and before she could put up her guard against it, Y/N was struck with exactly how amazing he looked. His dark hair had been gelled lightly and slicked into a dapper style that fit his bone structure perfectly. His beard was trimmed and neat and before Y/N could reign the thought in, she found herself wondering if it would tickle to be kissed by him with that beard. Damn Angie, putting thoughts into her head just before Chris arrived. The best part though was his suit. It was a bright cobalt blue that accentuated his eyes until they became hypnotic. The bright white of his shirt made a gorgeous contrast to the bright blue fabric and the black that lined the lapel of the jacket. 

“Well damn,” Chris said with a frown as his shoulders dipped.

“What? What’s wrong?” Y/N looked down at herself nervously. “Is the dress not good? Do I look terrible?”

“Not at all. It’s just that..” he trailed off with a shake of his head and looked down while she waited anxiously. “Well, I tried so hard and thought I looked pretty good tonight but now it’s not going to matter at all because no one is going to be able to look away from how beautiful you are, babe!”

“Don’t do that, Evans!” Y/N reached out and punched his shoulder as he looked up at her from under his lashes with a wicked smile.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he said with a chuckle. “Seriously though, Y/N. You look more incredibly beautiful than any woman I’ve ever seen.”

“You can keep the compliments coming, I’m not forgiving you that quickly.”

“Since I have your permission, I think I’ll just keep complimenting you all night.”

“When are you just going to ask her out, Chris?” Angie called from inside the apartment. “I’m sick of you two doing this ‘We’re just really good friends and there’s no sexual tension between us’ thing.”

“Angie!” Y/N practically screamed. “I swear, if rent was not so obscenely ridiculous, I would kick you out and pretend we didn’t know each other.”

Chris laughed a bit awkwardly and cleared his throat.

“Alright, if you’re not going to jump on it, girlfriend, I’ll take this bullet. When are you going to ask me out?” Angie had come to the door and was looking at Chris with a cocky expression on her face.

“We’re leaving. Right now,” Y/N said, her tone dark. She gave Angie a small but forceful push back into the apartment, grabbed her clutch from the table near the door and proceeded to slam it behind her. “I cannot even. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into her tonight.”

“I hate to tell you but that was not a tonight only situation,” Chris said as he easily looped an arm around Y/N’s waist. “Your roommate has been flirting with me like that since the first time I met her.”

“And you never mentioned it?” Y/N looked up at Chris in confusion but he just gave a relaxed shrug. 

“She doesn’t actually mean anything by it. Trust me, if I took her up on it and asked her out, she would freeze up and then refuse.”

“And you know this because...?”

“Just one of those things.”

Y/N continued to look up at Chris, her brow furrowing and a small frown creasing her face. She didn’t like the sound of that. Had Chris asked Angie out? Had they actually gone out? As they walked out to the waiting town car, Y/N pondered the possibilities silently and tried to decide why the idea of her friend and her roommate having secrets or a relationship bothered her so much.

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Flashbulbs were everywhere. It was beyond blinding and if Chris hadn’t kept a steady hold on Y/N, she probably would have bumped into someone and fallen down. 

“They’ll calm down in a bit,” he whisper-shouted into her ear. “The only reason they’re taking so many pictures is cause we just got here. A little down the line, you’ll have no trouble seeing.”

“How can you see?!” she asked in a terrified voice.

“I’m just used to it.”

“I don’t understand how anyone could ever get used to this...” Y/N muttered.

Chris took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. He knew this wasn’t where she felt the most comfortable but he also wanted Y/N to enjoy herself. Premiers weren’t always great but if you let them, they could be a lot of fun. 

“Mr. Evans, we need you for a quick chat over here,” an assistant came bustling up to direct him to an interview. 

“Do you want to come with or hang back?”

Y/N looked at him with wide and wild eyes. “Hang back, definitely hang back.”

He laughed and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek for courage. “Stay right here, babe. I’ll be back before you know it.” He pressed down lightly on her shoulders as though he were sticking her in place and moved off to the microphone the assistant had pointed out. 

Y/N took a couple of deep breaths and tried to calm herself. Chris had been right about the flashes calming down and now that some time had passed she was able to see a little better. In front of her were lines and lines of journalists and photographers, all calling out names and questions, but behind her there were bleachers full of fans. Many of them had signs and posters; some looked as though they had been camped out all day. Y/N turned slightly so that she could read some of the signs. 

“Hey, hey, Y/N!” someone called out to her. 

She looked around and spotted a fan at the barrier waving to her. “Umm...hi?”

“HI!! Sorry, this is probably totally creepy,” the girl said with a big smile. “I just feel like I know you from all the times Chris has talked about you.”

Y/N went a little closer to the girl. She was young and had obviously been waiting for a long time. Clutched in her arms was a canvas with all of the Avengers lovingly represented on it. One or two of the characters now bore a signature from the actor who played to role. 

“That’s really cool,” Y/N said pointing to it. “Did you make that?”

“Yeah!” Her face lit up as she held the canvas out for Y/N to inspect. “I want to be an artist when I grow up.”

“Do you mind?” Y/N reached out hesitantly and the girl placed it in her hands. It was incredible, each detail captured, every character given so much emotion. “You’re really talented.”

“Thanks! I was hoping to get everyone to sign it but...I couldn’t get a couple people’s attention. Do you think you could ask Mr. Evans if he’d sign it though?”

Y/N looked up at the girl and smiled. “Hold on to this,” she said, handing the canvas back. “I’ll make sure he comes over...or I’ll kick some Captain butt.” With a quick wink and smile, Y/N turned back to the front of the carpet and moved back to the space where Chris had left her. As if on cue, he finished his interview and returned to her. 

“Ready to keep going?”

“Not quite. I need two favors from you actually.”

Chris stared at Y/N, his eyebrows slightly raised. He could tell by her low and serious voice that she was being sincere. “What’s up?”

“Do you know who’s already inside?”

“Uh, yeah. I know that RDJ, Hemsworth, Mackie, Scarlett, Paul and Tom Holland have made it down the carpet...why?”

“Alright, she caught Rudd and Tom Holland. Do you have their phone numbers? RDJ, Hemsworth, Mackie and Scarlett, I mean?”

“Yeah...again, why?” Chris was beginning to look at Y/N like she had lost her mind. 

“’k, so favor number one: can you send a group text to those guys and the rest of the cast and ask them to make sure they sign this girl’s artwork?” Y/N jerked her head slightly to indicate where the fan stood. “She’s been here for a long time waiting and she made this incredible work of art to honor you all. It’d really mean a lot if everyone did this. If they could just come back out really quick?”

Chris was beaming at Y/N now, his phone already in his hand. He had been worried that she hated every bit of what was happening and it warmed his heart to see her caring so much about his fans.

“Done. Is favor number two that I go over and sign it right now?”

“Well...yeah.” Y/N gave an embarrassed shrug. “Sorry to be predictable.”

Chris wrapped his arm around her waist again, guiding her back towards the fan. “Trust me, babe. This is not an ‘’I’m sorry’ situation.”

Y/N smiled up at him brilliantly before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the young girl. “Look who’s here! And I didn’t even need to kick his butt. I just told him someone had a picture of his face and he couldn’t be stopped,” she said teasingly, looking between Chris and his fan. 

“It’s true,” Chris said with his trademark charming smirk. “I can’t resist beautiful things.”

Y/N laughed at him and shook her head, stepping back slightly so that his fans could have access to him. Watching him talk to everyone, sign posters and pose for pictures, she was reminded how lucky she was to have him in her life. His presence was something she had almost grown too accustomed to...almost taken for granted. 

“Hey Y/N,” said a low voice just behind her.

She turned to look over her shoulder and spotted Sebastian Stan standing at her side. She had met him several times before through Chris and had forgotten that as another Marvel actor he would be attending tonight. 

“Hey Seb, it slipped my mind that I’d be seeing you.” 

The man reached out and draped an easy arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “Ouch, didn’t realize I was so forgettable,” he said with a chuckle. 

“Don’t be stupid,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“He can’t help it, stupid is his default setting,” Anthony Mackie teased as he walked by on his way to sign the canvas.

Both Seb and Y/N laughed at the man, Seb miming a kick in his direction.

“So, did Chris bring you tonight?”

“Yup...I lost a bet.” Y/N hung her head in a comical display of shame. 

“Well you may have lost but I think we all won.”

She looked up at him with her head cocked to the side. 

“You look gorgeous, Doll.”

“Oh,” Y/N blushed furiously, both at the nickname and the words preceding it. “Thanks...?”

Sebastian laughed at the way her word went up at the end, turning it into a question. 

“Hey Seabass!” Mackie called out. “Get over here and look at this. The girl managed to capture my magnificent thighs!”

With a smirk and a quick squeeze, Sebastian released his hold on Y/N’s shoulder. “Gotta go, Doll. Duty calls.” He shot her a wink and walked off to the line of fans, clapping Chris on the shoulder as they passed each other. 

“Alright, I’m thirsty,” Chris said as he reached her. “Ready to go inside?”

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“You didn’t tell me to make sure I had waterproof mascara on, you big jerk!” Y/N punched Chris’s shoulder again lightly, blinking her eyes rapidly and rubbing her hand along her cheek. The movie was fantastic, full of action and great one-liners like all Marvel movies, but it also had heart wrenching, terrible moments that had brought Y/N to the edge of sobbing. 

“I didn’t want to spoil anything,” he replied chuckling. “Besides, you look amazing.”

“I look puffy and red...and if I get a hold on Tom Holland tonight, I’m going to tear him apart for breaking me down like that!”

Chris was laughing in earnest now, his whole body rumbling. “That just means I have to spend the after party making sure you don’t get near him.”

“Good, you do that. Keep me at your side all night or I’m likely to hit one of your friends and cast mates for making me cry.”

“Alright, tough guy. Let’s go get a drink and enjoy the party, huh?”

“I can’t go in there yet!” Y/N looked at Chris in horror. “I have to go to the bathroom and take care of the trash panda mess that is my face! Get it together, Evans!”

She left him chuckling fondly as she strode off to check her makeup and gather herself. Hardly a minute had passed before Chris was joined by Sebastian, the man holding out a beer which Chris gladly accepted. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Seb asked casually. 

“Went to clean herself up. She got a little teary eyed during the screening.”

Sebastian nodded and took a long pull from his beer. “Listen man,” he started hesitantly. “Are you two...I mean, do you...”

Chris stared at his friend with his brow furrowed. 

“She still dating that guy? Davey, Dippy, Dopey...whatever his name was?”

“Nah, they broke up.”

Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. “And what about you?”

“I broke up with Jenny again, I told you that.”

“No, I mean, with her. Are you...would you be pissed if I asked Y/N out?”

Chris just stared at the other man. Sebastian wanted to ask Y/N out? His Y/N?? But she’s not mine, he reminded himself. She never has been. And she’s dated plenty of other men since I met her. What right do I have to tell Sebastian no?

“Uh- I mean, go for it.”

“Do you mean that?” Seb asked, studying Chris’s face.

“Yeah, sure. She did just tell me that she was kinda over the whole relationship thing right now though, so she might not be the most receptive...you might get a better response if you wait,” he added the last bit casually, tacking on a shrug and wondering if he was overacting the casual vibe he was aiming for. 

“I’ll take it into consideration,” Sebastian said thoughtfully. “See how the night goes and play it by ear.”

Chris just nodded numbly.

“Alright,” Y/N called as she approached the two men, “I’m decent enough to hang out with the world’s mightiest heroes again.”

“Would you settle for hanging out with the guy that plays a semi-stable 100 year old man?” Seb asked with a charming smile, stepping out to reach Y/N before she got to Chris. 

“Uh-” she said, glancing between the two men.

“Just don’t let her near Tom Holland,” Chris said, clapping Seb on the shoulder and moving away with a huge fake smile plastered on his face. “She’ll kick his ass and then we’ll all be in trouble.”

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“Mr. Evans, I know it’s a party, but please don’t forget you still have a late night interview after this...it might be wise to slow down on the drinks?”

The small assistant was hovering near Chris’s elbow, his expression anxious as he watched Chris sip yet another scotch on the rocks.

Chris didn’t normally drink, but tonight was not a normal night. “Keep me at your side all night”, that was what Y/N had requested. That was what Chris had wanted. Instead, she had spent the evening on Sebastian’s arm, at Sebastian’s side, laughing at Sebastian’s jokes, dancing with Sebastian. He slammed down the rest of his drink, wincing as it burned his throat, and knocked the glass onto the bar. 

Most of the time, Chris was extremely easy going. He was good natured. He liked almost everyone. Jealousy was not something he felt often but at the moment it was twisting in his stomach like an anaconda around its prey. His center was nothing more than a tight fist of rage. This wasn’t him being competitive, this was a base instinct. Fight or flight. Protect what was his. And maybe it was just the alcohol or maybe it was seeing her with someone that seemed to pose a real threat to him, but at that moment, Chris decided that Y/N was his. She would be his.

“Mr. Evans? It’s about that time to head to the show?”

“Thank you, Harold,” Chris replied to the assistant with a smile, his face easing out of the angry mask it had become over the last few hours. “I just have to go and get something.” With that, he stood up and made his way over to where Seb and Y/N stood, the man’s arm laid casually around her shoulders. “Sorry to interrupt but I actually have to steal you away, babe.”

“Oh?” Y/N sounded surprised but not necessarily disappointed. 

“Yeah, gotta go to that chat show remember? Interview with James Corden for TV? You said you’d come hang out?”

“You can stay here if you’d rather,” Sebastian offered quickly. “I can always give you a ride.”

“Thanks Seb, but I’ll go with. I wouldn’t mind just chilling backstage. Besides, I really like James Corden. He always makes me laugh with his crosswalk musical things!”

Sebastian looked slightly disappointed but didn’t argue, choosing instead to simply give Y/N and Chris both hugs and send them on their way with a promise to call her and arrange lunch. 

“You guys are having lunch?” Chris asked as they left the building and walked towards the town car that was waiting outside for them.

“He offered to take me to a ball game and then buy me food,” she responded with a shrug. “I tried to make it clear that it wasn’t gonna be a date.”

“Oh?” he asked as his heart lifted. “Seb’s not your type?”

“I can’t imagine dating a celebrity,” Y/N replied, her tone laced with disgust. “Besides, I told you, I’m over the whole relationship thing right now.”

“Right...” Chris felt his heart sinking back down in his chest again. This was the first time since he had met Y/N that they were both single at the same time and he was free to try and start a romantic relationship with her. Of course she would be sworn off romance. Will I ever catch a break? he wondered as the car pulled out and began the short drive to James Corden’s studio.

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Y/N sat backstage and watched the monitors of what was happening just around the corner. James Corden had brought Chris out to wild applause from the audience and asked him a few introductory questions about the movie. Chris gave all the right answers, promoting the movie well and exercising his not unformidable charm. 

“And there are deaths in the movie?” James tried to wheedle out spoilers. “Does everyone make it through?”

“Hey, I’d love to tell you, but I’m pretty sure Marvel has snipers in the audience that would take me out before I got a word out,” Chris joked jovially. 

“Well, at least tell me if I should go to the theater prepared with kleenex! That’s just good manners.”

“I’ll say this,” Chris hedged with a small smile, “I have it on good authority that waterproof mascara is recommended.” 

“Oh, well I always make sure to wear waterproof,” James retorted with a flutter of his eyelashes to the audience’s delight. “But who is this good authority? I heard a rumor you were recently single again; was I misinformed?”

“No, that’s true, I did break up with someone not too long ago.”

“Someone new in your life already?”

“No,” Chris said with a warm smile, his eyes flicking down briefly as the smile grew wider. “No, not new. Someone who’s been in my life for a while but I never fully appreciated.”

“Oh?” James tried not to interrupt or even make himself very noticeable. If Chris  kept talking, he may get a huge scoop. 

“That’s not the right way to say it actually. I always appreciated this person. I’ve appreciated her since the day we met...but I always thought that we couldn’t be any more than we were.” 

Backstage, Y/N sat frozen. Was Chris talking about her? She had told him off about the waterproof mascara...but the rest...?

“You’re married right?” Chris looked up suddenly at James who nodded. “Is your wife the greatest person in the world? The one that you want to tell all your stories to? The one that you can talk about anything with and always have fun with? The person who always seems to be on your wavelength?”

James was nodding frantically in agreement. 

“But more than that, right? Like, she also expands the things you know, gives you new experiences, takes you new places. She makes you better than you are. She’s the person that you see first in any room. You could walk into a full three ring circus and your eyes would still find her first. It doesn’t matter what she’s wearing, she’s still the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. She’s my best friend and so much more than just that; so much more than I can put into words. That’s how it is with her; that’s how I feel about Y/N.”

All the air in the room, all the air in the world, seemed to have disappeared. There was no sound. Not a rustle of fabric or a whine of an electronic device. Y/N’s lungs seemed to be clenched too tightly to draw breath. Chris was in love with her. That was what he had just said, wasn’t it? He hadn’t used those words but what else could he have meant?

“Thank you for sharing that with us, Chris. And congratulations to you and Y/N. On that rather beautiful note,” James turned to the cameras with a smile, “We’ll take a break and be right back!”

The audience clapped and a crew member counted them out, letting James and Chris know when it was safe to relax. The moment the cameras were no longer filming, Chris leapt from his seat, shook James’s hand and practically galloped backstage. He was worried that Y/N might have fled but she still sat, frozen, in the chair she had taken before he made his confession. 

“Y/N?”

She turned her head to look up at him, her eyes wide and dazed. “That was...”

“The truth?” Chris finished for her.

“Was it?” She asked, her gaze becoming more focused on him. “Is that how you feel?”

He nodded. “That and more. I should have told you before, I should have just listened to Angie and asked you out but I...I don’t know. We were such good friends. And you were always dating other guys. And you hate the celebrity thing, you always said you’d never date anyone famous and you hate it when your picture shows up places, and I knew if we were together your picture would be taken.” Chris knew he was rambling but couldn’t seem to stop. “I always thought you just hated my career too much and that you weren’t interested but tonight...you were so great tonight. You took such good care of those fans and you even had fun but then Seb came around and he was flirting with you and you were laughing and touching his arm and I was this close,” he held up his fingers with a small space between them, “to tearing his arm off and beating him with it. Make him even more realistic as Bucky. So I just had to tell you, I had to-”

Y/N flung herself out of the chair and into his arms, her lips colliding against his with all the force of years of repressed passion. Chris responded equally as enthusiastically, wrapping his large arms around her and lifting her off the ground as he pressed their bodies together. Her lips were lush and tasted slightly of vanilla and cinnamon; Chris wondered if she always tasted this sweet and then if she would taste this sweet everywhere else. His hand went to the back of her neck as her fingers tangled into his hair, causing the gelled locks to splay and stick out in ridiculous, messy patterns. She tugged on his tresses lightly, garnering a moan from him, which allowed her to briefly slip her tongue into his mouth. 

Chris held Y/N even closer, his tongue chasing after hers and caressing its way into her mouth. He ran it along her lips, against her teeth, finally reaching out to brush against her own tongue, licking and exploring her as deeply as possible. 

“Chris,” she breathed out raggedly, breaking the kiss to speak. “Dressing room. Now.”

He didn’t hesitate for a moment. She had already been in his arms so it was easy to reach a hand down to the back of her thigh and pull her legs around his waist. Walking quickly, he carried her down the hallway, ignoring the looks of several crew members. He had been waiting years for this moment, god help anyone who tried to interfere or judge.

While they walked, Y/N kissed along his neck, her light nibbling causing his knees to tremble dangerously. 

“It does tickle,” Y/N giggled slightly. 

“What’s that, babe?”

“I was wondering earlier if your beard would tickle me if you kissed me.” She nuzzled against him and giggled again. “It does.”

“Just wait...soon it’s going to be tickling the inside of your thighs,” Chris retorted, his tone darkened with lust. 

Y/N sucked in a deep breath and bit her bottom lip. “I’ll hold you to that, Evans.”

They reached the dressing room and Chris shoved the door open, striding inside and dumping Y/N onto the plush couch. “Don’t move,” he warned before turning to quickly close and lock the door. She wouldn’t have had time to move had she wanted to; Chris moved rapidly and within seconds was over her again, his body a pleasant weight pressing against her, pushing her down into the soft couch.

“I love this dress,” Chris muttered against her lips. “You look so amazing in silver.” He stopped to kiss her again as his hands traveled along her body. “But it’s covering too much of you...”

Chris sat up and grinned wolfishly at her before moving his hands down to her ankles. He went slowly, his touch brushing the fabric upwards as his fingers traced along her skin against her ankles, her calfs...up to the outside of her thighs. As his hands reached her hips, he looked away from their progress to stare at her eyes again. 

“Lift your hips for me, babe.”

She did as he asked and he continued to slip the fabric off her, his palms stroking over her belly, brushing along her breasts and finally coming up to pull the gown over her head. He cast it to the floor of the dressing room and simply stared down at her for a moment, sprawled on the couch in just bra and panties, looking up at him with her eyes full of hunger and lust. 

“Damn, Y/N. You are even more amazing than I imagined...and trust me, I imagined a lot.”

He grinned at her wickedly again as she bit her lip and then trailed his fingers down her neck causing her to shiver. He continued his descent, his hand stopping only briefly to squeeze her breast through her thin bra before moving down again to find the edge of her underwear. 

Never taking his eyes from hers, Chris slipped his fingers into the edges of her panties and drew them down, pulling them away from her and dropping them on top of her discarded dress. Y/N seemed shy, closing her legs and blushing, but Chris coaxed them open, kissing her knee and trailing his hand along her inner thigh. 

“You’re beautiful, babe.”

“Chris, I-” Y/N started but broke off in a ragged gasp as his fingers brushed over her slit. 

“You what?”

“I,” she panted. “I-”

“Is there something you want to tell me, babe?” His tone was teasing as he smirked down at her. He continued to run his thumb up her slit, pressing it against the small bundle of nerves each time. 

“Mmmm...” She moaned and arched her back. “More...please...”

Chris stoked her again, this time pressing circles against her clit when he reached it. “I don’t think that’s what you wanted to tell me, Y/N.” He moved her legs gently so that he was sitting between them, her slick sex fully exposed to him. “What did you want to tell me, babe?” Instead of stroking, this time when he touched her, Chris pressed his long middle finger inside her, groaning at how she squeezed around it.

Y/N was panting and moaning, her hips moving on instinct against Chris’s hand, chasing pleasure, while her own hands squeezed and tweaked her breasts. 

“I love you, Chris,” she said on a breathy exhale. “I love you!”

“I love you too, babe,” Chris said triumphantly. He pulled his finger out of Y/N earning a moan of disappointment that rapidly became a groan of pleasure when his mouth took the place of his hand. 

Chris licked a stripe along Y/N’s wet pussy, savoring the taste of her, every bit as sweet as her lips. Just as he had promised, his beard tickled the inside of her thighs as he went to work, exploring every part of her with his tongue. Every few strokes and licks he would work his way back to her clit, giving it a firm flick with his tongue before sucking it gently. In a matter of minutes, Y/N was coming undone, chanting his name while he sucked on her and shaking as the waves of her orgasm washed through her. She was so overwhelmed by the pleasure, she didn’t even notice as Chris stood and began to undress. It wasn’t until his body weight was above her, pressing her pleasantly into the couch again, that she opened her eyes.

“Hey babe,” Chris whispered, kissing her lightly. His face hovered over hers, bright blue eyes shining down at her with a mixture of lust and love, his hair still standing on end from where she had run her fingers through it. 

Y/N moved her hands to his shoulders, squeezing the large muscles and sliding along the soft skin. He was the most beautiful man she had ever met and he loved her.

“I need you inside me,” she whispered to him. 

Chris wasted no time in complying. The tip of his hardened length had already been aligned with her, brushing against her entrance teasingly. At her word, Chris pressed his hips forward, both of them groaning as he slipped into her. 

“Damn, babe,” he moaned against her neck, his head falling against her, “You’re so tight.”

Y/N couldn’t think straight enough to protest that it wasn’t her tightness but rather his impressive size. Chris was thick and long; he was barely inside her and already filling and stretching her in that perfect blend of pleasure and pain. He moved slowly, pressing into her with gentle determination until he was fully sheathed in her. For a moment they simply stayed that way, as closely connected as possible, but before long, Y/N was aching for him to move, craving the friction and pleasure to come. 

“Please, Chris,” she begged him. “Please fuck me.”

Chris chuckled and kissed along her neck, slowly drawing his hips back and starting a steady rhythm, rocking against her. 

“More,” she moaned as her fingernails dug into his back.

He snapped his hips forward forcefully and she cried out, her back arching as her face screwed up in pleasure. Chris kissed along her jawline and continued, his strokes becoming faster and harder now that she was accustomed to the feel of him. 

“I’m close, I’m so close,” Y/N moaned as he continuously hit the sweet spot deep within her.

“Me too, babe,” Chris said through gritted teeth, his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Let go, Y/N...just enjoy it.”

With one last moan of his name, she came undone again, her nails digging into his back as her body tensed and relaxed, her muscles clenching tightly around Chris and bringing him over the edge as well. He found her lips again, kissing her and moaning her name as he continued to thrust, coaxing them both through the waves of pleasure as they came down. 

For another minute, they simply lay on the couch, twisted in each other’s arms, enjoying the feelings they had been denying themselves for years. Then Chris drew back to stare down at Y/N; her hair was a mess from rubbing against the couch, her cheeks flushed and lipstick smeared. Her eyes were still glazed with recent pleasure and her chest heaved unevenly. 

“You’re just as beautiful as the first time I saw you,” Chris said lovingly, leaning down to kiss her chastely. 

“The first time you saw me I had a hole in my lip and a mouthful of blood,” Y/N scoffed at him.

“Yeah, you did. And you were still the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.”

“Such a liar, Evans.”

“Not to you, babe. Not about this.” He shook his head seriously. “I was crazy about you from the first moment I set eyes on you.”

Y/N blushed and looked away from him biting her lip. “Hey...what’s our percentage?”

“What?”

“You know how things were only good with Jenny like 10% of the time? What would you say our percentage is?”

Chris looked down at her and laughed, enjoying the unrestrained laughter that she always brought out in him. “About...99.9%.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment before breaking out into a huge smile. “I’ll take that answer.” 

“What percentage would you have said?” Chris asked quizzically. 

“Nope, not telling,” Y/N said with a smile as her phone started to buzz. 

“Oh, come on, babe, that’s not fair!”

“You should have asked me before you told me what your percentage was if you wanted to know! Now I have no incentive to tell you,” she teased while grabbing her phone. 

“Oh, I can give you an incentive,” Chris growled playfully. “Come ‘ere!”

He grabbed her and pulled her laughing back to the sofa, kissing her wildly and tickling his fingers along her body. Y/N’s phone lay forgotten on the table, the screen open to a text from Angie that read simply: “Saw Corden. About damn time!”

[dcarevu]

Batman TAS: Heart of Steel (Part 2)

“I do wish your toys wouldn’t play so roughly with you, Sir.”

Episode: 39 Robin: No Writer: Brynne Stephens (Brynne Chandler) Director: Kevin Altieri Animator: Sunrise Airdate: November 16, 1992 Grade: A

Picking up where we left off, and things don’t appear to be off to a stellar start. Batman escaping the grabber that is installed incredibly high up on the cave ceiling seems anti-climactic. Because after that, HARDAC just gives up. Batman starts to track its location, and it disconnects from his system, ending the moment. What the hell, HARDAC. Didn’t you just have control over everything? You couldn’t have locked Batman out entirely and prevented him from even getting that far? Luckily this segment ends with a pretty funny callback to Part 1 from Alfred, and from here things are awesome the entire way. I think that the cliffhanger last time was only there to be a cliffhanger and get ratings for Part 2. I guarantee it was an afterthought. But whatever, it’s out of the way, now let’s get to the good stuff!

The previous episode was used to set a lot of things up. It had some good moments, but they held off from showing us the major excitement. This episode flies by, and it feels like nonstop action with some of the best imagery we have yet to see. I’m so happy with how well they nailed the designs of a lot of these robots, and the concept was taken to its max potential. I love the way that the robots (disguised as people such as Bullock, Gordon, Mayor Hill, etc) move around, sometimes walking and talking just like you and me, but other times they leap and scuttle in a way that almost resembles the way the little girl moves in The Exorcist or like the girl from The Grudge. Paired with their glares and those piercing eyes, and it’s easily as creepy as anything on Courage the Cowardly Dog. The most disturbing moment is when one of the robots twists its head all over the place and then follows Batman up the elevator cable. It’s a moment of tension because we know the bot will grab Batman if he doesn’t hurry the hell up and solder through it. It’s a similar feeling to being followed and trying to quickly unlock a door. After Batman solders through, the elevator falls many floors and completely demolishes the robots that were onboard, and we get to see their mangled carcasses. Like with Captain Clown from The Last Laugh, robots give the writers a lot of fun opportunities for violence that is not typically permitted. There’s an earlier scene where a robotic Bullock is thrown onto the Bat-Signal where it gets electrocuted. We see a charge running through it, its hand twitches, and it loses its skin-like shell. Seeing how willing Batman was to deliver this type of punishment to Bullock was a little bit concerning, and we even see Barbara start to cry during the aftermath before they realize that it’s not really Bullock. Beautiful stuff!

During the climax we get a lot of this type of thing all shoved together into one scene. There are explosions galore (I sorta gave up on the fire count that we had going, but if I hadn’t, you’d better believe that this episode would count toward it), some twisted imagery in the form of seeing Bullock and Gordon suspended in a tank of water for observation, and Randa gets part of her face ripped off, revealing a metal skull underneath. It makes Batman jump in fear as he turns around and sees her. While one of Batman’s major talents is scaring the piss out of the criminals he fights, as we know from Scarecrow episodes, he himself is not immune to fear. It’s nice to see him expressing this emotion without the use of mysterious gas.

HARDAC’s motives were fleshed out a lot more, and they are a little cliché. Replacing all humans, eliminating man-made flaws, allowing the world to run smoother, yada yadda. We’ve heard this before. What I find more interesting is Karl Rossum’s role in all of this. What I gathered was that Rossum designed HARDAC to replace certain human-operated functions with robot-operated functions. For example, self-driving cars. He had a daughter that died in a car accident, and so he vowed to rid the world of the possibility of this happening to anyone else. Because he…for some reason…gave HARDAC a free-thinking mind, HARDAC decided to take this plan much further than intended, considering all humans a problem period. They’re too imperfect. Ironic, given HARDAC’s quick downfall, but hey, this is the 90’s. Technology has a long way to go. Anyway, Rossum’s motives are pretty vague, though, so I could be interpreting this wrong, but I like that there are a couple of ways to take it. I can see someone else going more literal and imagining that he wanted to replace drivers with robots, or even some of the more problematic citizens. Who knows. Interestingly, in Part 1, we see Randa using a self-driving car, which I just now remembered. I thought I remembered something too about Randa being modeled after his daughter, but they never mentioned this. Head-canon I guess. I have to ask, is Rossum innocent? He doesn’t seem to be in much trouble at the end, but we have no way of knowing how far he was going with this plan. Yeah, HARDAC went further, but that doesn’t mean that Rossum wasn’t trying to go further than most sane people would, you know? I have a feeling that we’ll never see him again and won’t have to worry about it, but Batman the Animated Series has this way of surprising me.

Barbara Gordon gets more time this half hour, and she’s so rad! Her voice actress (Melissa Gilbert) plays her so well, and combined with the lines, she sounds like she’s incredibly intelligent. How love how she talks to her stuffed bear when she’s by herself, but what she talks about is how she plans on breaking into Cybertron to rescue her father. It combines cute with badass and capable, and she seems to be a strong female role model that any kid could look up to. Not to say that I condone putting yourself into the kind of danger that she did, but hey. You know what I mean. Last episode she may have been an extension of Jim. This episode she broke out of that and felt like something entirely her own. You already know that I know, but for those who don’t know what’s coming (Char), hopefully we’ll see lots more of Barbara! She did mention how much she enjoyed getting in on the action, and Batman told her that she did an excellent job. If that doesn’t sound like a recurring character, I don’t know what does!

I don’t have too-too much more to say, but this episode was way better than I remember. So far, it may even be top ten material. Char loved it too. She said that she was happy that no one died in the end, but jesus, when Possum was fried by HARDAC’s laser, I thought he was going to be left a pile of ash. Never program a super-powerful, free-thinking computer to have weapons like that… You give it a will to be free and a way, what could go wrong?

Get a load of Gordon’s tall mustache. 

Some of the animation in this one reminds me of The Tick. It’s the line work as well as the eyes. I couldn’t find any info on who did the animation for The Tick, but could it have been Sunrise?

Jesus, he’s not dead? The intensity of HARDAC’s laser blast was shocking, and it looked soooo violent.

I keep seeing a smiley face on HARDAC’s light/eye/whatever. On purpose?

Basically what I see when I go to the dentist. What creepy lighting! I like how intimate this segment was.

It must be so therapeutic for Batman to get to beat the shit out of the fake Bullock, especially after this shit-eating grin. What a great face!

Bullock’s twitching hand was super gross. Anyone else agree that this is Sunrise’s best work on the show?

This robot almost looks zombie-like, which is fitting considering Bullock’s apparent demise. 

What happened to the batarangs, Batman? 

Even when dead, those red eyes stare in such a malicious way.

“Please let go of my cape.”

Is there any reason that these guy need to have light-up eyes like this? No! HARDAC clearly installed them just for the��“Holy shit, what the hell is going on” factor. 

Yes, HARDAC, humans are so imperfect. Meanwhile one of your friends lets Bruce slip away like this. 

KILL IT. KILL IT. KILL IT. 

THANK YOU. 

These trashcan robots very much look like the robots from Castle in the Sky. 

Seeing them in this kind of danger is quite disturbing. As is the fact that a computer is keeping humans contained like this. 

Up until now, we’ve only seen Randa as a drop-dead gorgeous woman. We saw the twist coming, yet it’s still quite the surprise!

A really stupid moment in an otherwise amazing half hour. A makeup mirror deflecting a laser like that felt really implausible (yes, in the face of everything else), and it also seemed like a lame way to remind us that Barbara is, in fact, a woman. 

Batman panics as his head is about to be crushed by an elevator. Batman breaks a few times during Heart of Steel. He’s sure to experience some nightmares about computers.

Bob Hastings has a tremendously good moment as he calls out the name of Jim’s daughter, thinking she’s dead. 

Char’s grade: A Next time: If You’re So Smart, Why Aren’t You Rich?

Full episode list here!

[mina-van1104]

Happy Good Friday! Just want to say haters are losers & I’m clearly not a loser. My newer neighbor of 2 something years always has to make a rude comment to us when we’re outside. I’m clearly not slow & not a loser like they are.

They live in 2266 green house named Zimmermans on Rockdale Dr. They have been the ones harassing us since they moved in September 2018. They are not originally from Nevada & I’m FROM Nevada. Zimmermans should shut up & who do they think they are?!

Yeah I have a Bachelors degree, 2 college degrees, & 2 extra medical licenses. I was number 33 GPA out of 500 five hundred something people in my class. I was also an Honors/Advanced student with scholarships including athletic scholarships & other awards-earned. Was always in the advanced good choirs up to college UNR Chamber Chorale.

My older sister Catherine Van Schwartz (30) a former News Reporter on KOLO 8 News Now & Post Gonzaga University Grad 2012 Summa Cum Laude (highest degree) and top 20 valedictorians number 11 out of 500 (five hundred something people in her class). She was also Honors/Advanced student. My older sister very well known In Sparks/Reno because my sister has always been popular before she was a news reporter. My older sister had a lot scholarships & awards-earned! Catherine was also president of Intermezzo (Show Choir) in 2008 and Captain of her tennis team & elected Treasurer in Student Council. My sister also got nominated for an Emmy in Oregon as a News Reporter 7 years as a News Reporter.

Yeah, we are definitely NOT slow like the Zimmerman family. Zimmerman family; shut up! We are obviously better than you. We will always be above you & you know it. Sorry you Zimmermans life sucks that you have to belittle us and caught on my camera several times. How stupid can you Zimmermans get?! Such low lives they are. Zimmermans harassments stress have caused me to faint in the past & have seizures, rushed in ambulance 3 different times hospitalized for days & a few weeks these past few months & since 2018. You guys almost made me literally die & you guys should pay or SHUT UP!

I’m not a person who causes any drama or trouble but I will always defend myself & my family. My parents and my big family of Asians/Caucasians white people who don’t all live in my household are all intelligent/talented people.

My parents know more than 5 different languages fluently. Don’t ever talk to me, my family, or to anyone like that. Whatever you Zimmermans or haters say, you will always be below me & that is the truth. You Zimmermans are the “SLOW” ones and you know it! And all the racist things they said in the past to us caught on my cameras.

I’ve been living in the same house literally since I was born. Our same yellow house (with white picket fence now) was bought when these houses were first built in 1990 before I was even born. We had the best next door neighbors. Good neighbor friends who were white kids we hungout with in our neighborhood as kids. Giving presents to eachother every Christmas (not even joking).

Now we still have good neighbor friends who are white who lived in our neighborhood for more than ten (10) years who don’t live next door to us. Couple houses away. We still have good neighbors-they just don’t live next door to us.

I hope everyone remembers that whether you believe in GOD or Karma or not believe in it, Karma is very real & I don’t have to do anything. Don’t ever mess with me or my family & don’t mess with anyone else!

Watch what you say Zimmermans because Zimmermans are the TRUE idiots & everyone who’s smart enough knows it. Their lies, their hatred- good people will never believe you Zimmermans & never believe any racist people. I’m glad I’m not racist & was born into a successful, authentic, genuine family.

Haters are losers & they will NEVER go far in life. Zimmermans should get a brain & when I say get a brain I meant someone who knows when to be respectful to ALL people. You could have a college degree & still be an idiot like the Zimmermans. I have 2 college degrees & am respectful to all groups of people & actually have a real brain. I’m glad I’m not fake like some people.

So Zimmermans I hope you know when to shut up because everyone knows that you guys will always be below us no matter what you guys say. I just want peace but their family is too dumb & don’t know when to quit. I’m glad My family & I are not a losers like they are.

Also another different family who has moved in 1 year ago July 2019. 2265 grey colored house diagonally across street, Clarks (From California) I noticed they put their mailbox open because they know I walk my dogs early in the morning.

They (Clarks) were purposely trying to frame me & make it seem like I’m doing something suspicious. Because their mailbox has been open these past few days but today while I was walking my dogs their mailbox closed. An hour later I witnessed their jealous/racist kids opened the mailbox & started yelling to make it seem like I did something when I did not.

Do NOT frame me because you Clarks have no life. They only installed cameras a couple months ago. Luckily I’m a Scorpio & more Psychic than other people & stick with my instincts usually.

In the past they’re four year old children & their family yelling at us being insulting to us & Jessica Clark, John Clark, Lonnie mocked & harassed my Facebook/Social Media. Clarks are such idiots still makes me furious how dumb they are. Good thing I’m smart & me & my family will always be above you Clarks.

Their boys caught on my camera Insulting us caught on my camera a few months ago & still yelling today- they also shot toy foam nerf gun pellets directed at our house in the past but told police a long time ago- they don’t do it anymore. While our car was shot by a REAL gun twice in January 2020 & November 2020.

I hope people will be aware of my neighbors the Zimmermans 2266 (green house) & Clarks 2265 & how evil they have been to us over the years some caught on my camera with their kids. They have NO RIGHT!! Those racist neighbors are originally from California while I was born here in Nevada. Who do they think they are?! Stop ruining my city!

They Zimmermans, Clarks will always be below my family & me & that is the truth no matter what they say! Do not try to frame me because GOOD people know the TRUTH, you’re lies will not go anywhere. Only IDIOTS will believe them. I tell nothing but the truth. God is real. Don’t mess with me or my family or anyone! Violating my civil rights. They need to get arrested & those neighbors clearly have no life. Nevada is MY city either shut up or get out of my city! How dare they move into my city & be like that to us?! You guys have NO RIGHT! Grrr! So furious! 🔥

Also it’s always out of staters giving me trouble in life mostly Californians or Texas & NOT saying all Californians or Texas & out of Staters just MOST of them. Please do not cause problems to us as life is already hard eventhough I love my life. Stop ruining it.

Eventhough I enjoy my life & love my life. I’m sorry those haters’ lives are not great that you have to put your anger out on me & my family. Sorry their kids are uneducated, jealous racist people. I hope they know when to keep things peaceful & not start up drama again because they clearly have no life & that good/smart people will never believe them. Stop disturbing our peace! Sorry you evil newer neighbors don’t know when to shutup. We’re smarter than you guys & you know it! Please newer neighbors, keep it peaceful because I don’t want unnecessary drama because I have a life & apparently the newer neighbors don’t.

I was Nevada born & raised. Family living in Nevada since 1979 (42 forty-two years). Still & will always be proud of my 2 college degrees, Bachelors Degree, & my 2 extra medical licenses. I am a family member Asians of doctors (all blood-related), veterans (blood related), dentists (blood related), Physical therapist (blood related), Acupuncturists(blood related) , News Reporter (blood related) , family of caucasian white people (some blood related to us). Don’t mess with my awesome, successful, big family. Be kind to one another. 💕✨Stop Asian Hate! Hope y’all have a fantastic day!

# Selfie # StopAsianHate # Vaccinated # NativeNevadan # PositiveVibes # MarchMadness # Gonzaga🏀 # LoveDrivesOutFear # dogs # running # coach # Nurse # NevadaBornAndRaised # NevadaNative # athletic 🐾🏃🏻‍♀️💪🏼# RenoNevadaBornSparksRaised # HomeMeansNevada # Nevada # UNRnevadaAlumnaMay2016🎓 🐾 # PostUniversityGraduate 🎓 # Overachiever # WolfPackAlumna 🐾 # BachelorsHealthSciences # PublicHealth 🐺 # 2CollegeDegrees # 2ExtraMedicalLicenses # AlreadyAllAchieved # TrueAccomplishments # integrity # RenoBornSparksNative 🐾🐶 🤙🏼 ✨🌻

[shonizu]

The Proust Questionnaire

Interview with Matthew Montez

In the age of a virtual and distant world, an interview through means of text and email entails a different tone than that of a traditional face-to-face conversation. My interview with Matthew Montez encapsulates the quick and to-the-point answers that compare to the means of which the interview was conducted. Quick, easy, and straight to the point answers that reflect how media is now consumed. What started as a short text chain on Instagram evolved into an email response that held everything pre-written. The way I take the interview is the same as everyone else, our own take on how it was answered: the tonality, the pattern of speech, the vibe, it becomes fabricated to our own imaginary version of what Montez sends. Through this, we go on a journey to find who they are in the answers. Who is Matthew Montez? Using the Proust Questionnaire as a guide. We receive the basic information to understand, but together the answers conform to an idea of a person. Montez’s answers are direct, poignant responses that are reflective of the medium and age they were sent, but hold deeper connectivity and meaning between the lines.  What is your idea of perfect happiness? 

Surrounded by loved ones as we devour a pie of Williamsburg Pizza and watch a childhood classic, H20.

What is your greatest fear? 

Being lost or isolated alone for an extended period of time.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? 

My inability to be alone and my consistent spiraling and intrusive thoughts that I can never seem to quite shake.

What is the trait you most deplore in others? 

When people are selfish.

Which living person do you most admire? 

My mother.

What is your greatest extravagance?

Working on a professional production for the first time and feeling validated by the experience of it. Feeling like I do belong in the industry I’m in and I have a place here.

What is your current state of mind? 

Contemplative yet anxious.

What do you consider the most overrated virtue? 

Obedience, being complacent.

On what occasion do you lie? 

When the truth is not relevant or too hurtful to approach. 

What is the quality you most like in a man? 

Delicacy, Open-mindedness, and approachability.

What is the quality you most like in a woman? 

Raw honesty and approachability.

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

Simply, articulate, literally, sultry.

What or who is the greatest love of your life? 

My dogs: Chelsea & Bella.

Which talent would you most like to have?

I would love to be able to have any such musical talent, whether it be singing or playing an instrument. 

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? 

My obsessive need to please others.

Where would you most like to live? 

Barcelona, Spain.

What is your most treasured possession? 

My laptop; it holds a collection of all my stories. 

What is your most marked characteristic? 

My loudness.

What do you most value in your friends? 

Honesty and Loyalty.

Who is your favorite writer? 

Aaron Sorkin.

What is it that you most dislike?

When people aren’t approachable or rude for no apparent reason.

What is your greatest regret? 

That I wasn't more confident in the times that I lacked it and needed it. 

What motivates you to work hard?

My peers who surround me motivate me and the things that I see online of what could be my life if I pursued and worked at it harder. 

What is your favorite thing about your career? 

That I get to work in a collaborative environment with so many like-minded people. 

What did you want to be when you were small? 

I wanted to be a dentist just because I thought it would help make a lot of money so I could support my family.

[consciousowl]

What’s It Like To Be Truly Happy?

Life is a ripoff when you expect to get what you want.

Life works when you choose what you got.

Actually, what you got is what you chose.

To move on, choose it.

Werner Erhard

If someone knocked on your door tomorrow and handed over a tax-free check for $10 million, or $100 million, or even $1 billion, would you know what to do with it? Would you already have a very clear handle on how you would choose to spend your time?

At that point, money would be no object. In theory, you could do anything you want. Would that automatically make you happy?​

Fake Happiness versus True Happiness

We live in a consumer culture. Hundreds, if not thousands of ads, commercials or promotions per day bombard each of us. Imagine if you could get every single one of the products and services you see on TV or digital devices. Would that make you truly happy?

​It is said that you can never get enough of what you don’t truly want. Fake happiness is based on instant gratification and cheap thrills. It is always external to you, and leaves you dependent and craving, whether it is a new Lexus or a hot fudge sundae. You are usually in a rush to get your hands on it. Very often, what you buy functions as a status symbol to separate yourself from the pack.

True happiness is based on your actual experience, independent of the actual object.

It’s not the object itself… it’s the feeling beyond it is what we crave for. For example, Apple Mac’s, iPads and iPhones are compelling, because they are beautifully designed, and impart a sense of perfection. They empower you to do all kinds of things you never even thought of doing. They awaken the creative YOU, and derive their unique value from that. They open you up in a huge way, and that is their incomparable gift.​

What You THINK You Want

If you are like most of us, you want a life that closely matches the glossy magazines. You want to hobnob with the rich and famous. How about visiting Richard Branson on his Necker Island? Think of the prestige of giving a keynote speech along with the Dalai Lama. How about attaining ultimate professional recognition? Maybe you can win the Pulitzer, or even the Nobel Prize!

As did the ancients, you want power, glory, wealth and romance. You want to have it all. If it is education, you want a Ph.D. from a prestigious school in a hot subject. How about a Ph.D. from Stanford in A.I. to make you a standout data scientist? Why not grab the first new model Tesla off the assembly line, even ahead of Elon Musk?

You want your life to go smoothly, effortlessly. If someone gave you a magic wand to wave, and have anything you wanted, you would drop everything you are doing, seize it and never look back. You want a trophy wife or a rich husband? No problem. You want people to adore you all over the world, and remember your name forever? No sweat.​

What You TRULY Want

If you are not smiling by now, you should be. You must sense something is off in this hedonistic calculation. Attaining all of the wonderful things above is external to you. Who ARE you? Why are you here? What is your mission in life? The Big Picture is infinitely more satisfying.

You want an energizing relationship with your Creator. Your Source adores you. He is even in love with you. You are here to literally become God, to fulfill your ultimate potential. You were created to create. This is your playground. You are taking in the lessons you need to become the master magician.​

You want an energizing relationship with a Significant Other, male or female. That doesn’t necessarily have to be a husband or wife, or even a relationship. Your Significant Other is anyone who deeply inspires you, who cares about you in some way. Like a knight in shining armor, there is nothing you wouldn’t do for your lady in the castle.

You want an energizing relationship with your WORK. Your work is most definitely not your job, or even your career. It goes much deeper than that. It is your mission in life, what you were expressly designed to accomplish. Jesus Christ defined it for Himself quite simply, “I have come that you might have life, and that more abundantly.” He wasn’t preoccupied with a crown of glory, only with making Earth more like Heaven.​

Related article:  Life as Art, Art as Life

What Is Your Hierarchy of Needs?

Dr. Abraham Maslow transformed psychology back in the 1960’s from being preoccupied with sick people to increasingly focusing on health people. Maslow opened up humanistic psychology, which set the stage for transpersonal psychology, and the whole transformational movement.

Maslow work focused on a hierarchy of needs, which motivate people. He pointed out in his conceptual pyramid that we obviously must meet basic needs before we can concentrate on higher ones. We need food, water, warmth and shelter, then safety and security, and then belongingness and acceptance. After we feel sufficiently loved, we can then focus on self-esteem, differentiating ourselves in society through accomplishment.

Maslow identified these early needs, the basic and psychological needs, as deficiency motivation. We are operating out of a deficit, and need to fill a void. Only then can we feel OK. He then completes his pyramid with Self-Actualization, including peak experiences. This entails the ability to make your dreams come true. Maslow even hinted there was something beyond that for a few, what he called, “Self-Transcendence.” You give up preoccupation with your everyday self and discover a whole new identity, that of a divine being.​

True Happiness in Meaningful Achievement

All the money in the world would seem hollow if you stopped growing. You could have it all, and yet feel as if your life were almost over. Executives with hundreds of millions of dollars have actually jumped out of high rises. By their own estimates, they were abject failures.

In accomplishing anything truly worthwhile, you are not the same man or woman as you were when you began. The effort opens you up, matures you, empowers you to go to the next level in your life. We don’t want to produce schlock. We want to be world-class whatever our area of expertise.

Our achievements must resonate with the Big Picture--why we, as individuals, came to Planet Earth. We each have our life work. We are each given one or more talents, as well as one or more passions. The breakthrough happens when our talents and passions perfectly align with the world’s deepest need.​

True Happiness in Contribution

Christ reminded His disciples that they are the Light of the World. We, too, are the light of the world, even when we don’t admit this. We deeply want to make a difference in a world that appears all too flawed, with endless wars, financial upheaval and ecological distress. We want to make this a better world when we go than it was when we came.

If you look at people like Bill Gates and Steve Jobs, they didn’t build the computer industry just for the money. Something else made them tick. They loved computers, and they wanted to make sure that everyone had equal access to them, a computer on every desk, one that you would love. Gates ended up systematically giving away his billions with the Gates Foundation, inspired by his wife, Melinda.

When I got out of college and first took the est training, I remember Werner Erhard disclosing how much he wanted to leave a legacy. We all knew about his black Mercedes coupe and smiled. However, that was hardly the focal point of his life. As Werner, himself, put it, “When I die, the only thing I want is a world that works. Put ‘A world that works’ on my tombstone.”

True Happiness in Love and Gratitude

The older I get, the clearer it is to me that this is all about love. Unconditional love is what we crave more than anything else. That love IS happiness. We want to give love as much as we want to receive it. If we were granted an entire world, that world would be empty and useless without someone to share it.

The fastest way to experience happiness and open your heart to love is through gratitude. Simply making a list every day, both for what you have already received over the years, as well as what you are about to receive in the near future, absolutely works. The Secret was totally straight about this, and its emphasis on giving thanks was more than worth the price of admission.

When I truly fell in love with someone special… I learned to love unconditionally. That love elevated me spiritually to the point where I could get direct access to universal love. I began to spontaneously feel love towards all kinds of people, whether or not they fit my pictures.

Falling in Love with the Little Things

When we truly get into what we are doing, whether washing the dishes, taking out the trash or working on our taxes, we feel free. It is our resistance to all the exigencies of life that makes us miserable. You can even get into seeing you dentist. Mine has a beautiful office surrounded by a mini-forest.

Life is always in the moment. NOW, NOW and NOW. When you learn to go with your living experience, you will take in the lovely girl’s smile, your colleague’s pat on the back or the breathtaking sunrise. You need nothing more. Just that. When you can relish every moment, you are truly happy. This world is inherently beautiful, no matter how ugly we try to make it.

When you give up your agenda and you stop feeling frantic about things, you will feel free. A highly intelligent entrepreneur I know went on a vipassana retreat for two weeks. No radio or TV. No books. No electronic devices. Complete silence. People simply dropped off food to his cabin. That was it. He found the experience deeply rewarding, and recommends it to others.​

True Happiness as a State of Being

Happiness is never really “out there,” as much as that seems to be the case. It always emerges within you. It is a state that can come and go times without number. Happiness is something you can choose. You can start by thanking someone. You can bless anyone who walks buy. You may not even feel it at the time. Later you most definitely will.

A prominent nondual master taught his students a very simple path to freedom. Imagine that God really does control everyone and everything. There is no such thing as free will. Whatever will happen will happen, no matter what you do. All you can ever do is go with the flow. You really have no other choice. You will then feel a sense of freedom that defies explanation. How can you lose?

Long before we started Conscious Owl, we played with a paradoxical aphorism that still has merit:​  You can have anything you TRULY want, so long as you choose it EXACTLY the way that it is!

You can have anything you TRULY want, so long as you choose it EXACTLY the way that it is!

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