right down to the mike

anonymous asked:

Sometimes I feel like I don't fit in the trans guy community because I'm TOO masculine. I've never really liked feminine things, and even my "girly" interests and hobbies are few and I don't do them a lot. Sometimes I feel like I'm falling into the toxic masculinity that men are told off for.

My guy, toxic masculinity isn’t a color, a sport, a fashion choice, or anything like that. Toxic masculinity is the mindset that forces men who do not want to participate in masculine things, to do so out of fear of persecution. Toxic masculinity is viewing masculine things as higher, or better than feminine things. Toxic masculinity is the view that being emotional or soft is weak because it is feminine (and by extension “gay or like women”). Masculinity isn’t toxic on its own, it’s just a personality trait. It is made toxic when it is forced. If you like the most masculine things on earth and are happy with that, then good for you. That's who you are and you should always be who you are. As long as you don’t look down on feminine boys, you’re doing everything right. 

- Michael 

Numbers Go On Forever

“Lucas, I can think of several instances where I’ve been right and you haven’t.  To say anything different is just straight up wrong,”  Dustin concluded, throwing his arms up in the air for added effect.

Lucas stopped in his tracks, pivoting to look at his friend.  “Okay, Dustin.  Maybe you have been right once or twice.  That’s a given.  But I am still more right than you in general,”

Dustin’s face took on a look of such betrayal Mike practically expected him to sputter something along the lines of “Et tu, Brute?” before falling to the ground.  “No!  You have not been right enough times more than I have to make that claim, Lucas!”

A few feet away from them, Max was rolling her eyes.  “How did this argument even start?”

“Can’t remember,”  Mike replied.  They were taking the shortcut through the woods to the park because Eleven had never been on a swing set or a merry-go-round, and Mike could only hope his friends pulled themselves together before they got there.  He was used to their squabbling- it was just a part of having two friends that were so completely different- but he wasn’t sure if El was and he didn’t want her closing off to them like she sometimes did when she was overwhelmed.  “They do this all the time,” he added to El, who’d been walking quietly beside him.  “They bicker about stupid things but they’re not really mad at each other and they’ll get over it soon,”

“Yeah,”  Will told her.  “The have the same fight about every six months or so.  Usually Lucas wins but sometimes Dustin will wear him down enough until he just gives up.”

“Yeah,”  Mike said, relieved to have Will backing him up.  He was still learning what things scared El- she’d only been back with them for two months and things he considered simply everyday objects made her stiffen or panic.  He hated seeing her like that, but he was getting better at remembering and figuring out which things scared her.  And he hoped that someday El could have one full day where she wasn’t scared, not of anything.  Whether it was from her past or from the vast and confusing future ahead of her.

Eleven gazed at Dustin and Lucas and nodded.  She’d seen her fair share of spats involving the two friends, and she was used to the shouting and even the occasional shove.  Even if she didn’t know most of the words they used, she could see where the argument was going based on their animated faces.

And right now, Dustin’s face was a mixture of arrogance and rage.  “Give me a second to remember all the times I’ve been right- there’s so many it could take some time,”

To that Lucas snapped, “Yes, it usually takes some planning to come up with a bunch of lies.”

“One!”  Dustin said triumphantly.  Mike rolled his eyes.  If Dustin wanted to, he could really lay it on thick.  “Two!  Three!  Four!  Five!  Six!  Seven!”

“Didn’t know he could count that high,”  Lucas muttered.  Max kicked his shin in response.

Dustin decided not to hear this.  Mike was so wrapped up in his performance that he almost didn’t notice the tug on his jacket.

“Is something wrong?” Eleven was gripping his sleeve, a question on her face.

She shook her head, pointing towards Dustin who was still counting all the times he had apparently beat Lucas’s judgment.  “What is he saying?”

Mike had to think about that one for a second.  Most of the time he could judge what things El knew and what things she didn’t based on the limited knowledge he had of her time in the lab, but every once in a while he’d make assumptions that ended up entirely wrong.  Like the time she was looking at his science homework which he’d spread over the table in the basement and he tried to explain what an experiment was.  His heart stopped in his chest when she cut him off with a resolute “I know”.  Or when he told her it was time for lunch and she asked what the word meant only for him to blurt out like an idiot: “You don’t know?”  She looked away and didn’t fully meet his eyes until hours later, hardly having spoken a word during that time.  He felt unforgivable for embarrassing her the way he did- after all, why would she know the word lunch?  She was probably given food at certain times of the day that she came to expect but if no one gave it a name for her to use then the word ‘lunch’ meant nothing to her.  He still felt sick when he thought about it, and he had to be careful now as he tried to remember how he’d learned the concept of counting.

“He’s counting.  He’s trying to show Lucas how many times he’s been right about something.  He’ll probably run out soon,”

El nodded.  “I know some of them,”

“Some of the numbers?  Yeah, you’re probably heard lots of numbers without realizing it,”  Mike reasoned.

In the lab there were sometimes exercises that involved numbers, and sometimes Papa would count up to five and expect her to be finished with something by the time he got there.  She even knew how a lot of them looked like from watching the numbers on Mike’s watch tick forward.  But Dustin was exceeding the range of numbers she had learned, and she wished he would slow down so she could remember each one as he went up.

“How many?” she asked.

“Tons,”  Mike replied.  “Numbers go on forever, really.  But people usually use the same ones over and over again, so it gets easy to remember.  The first ones are just one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven…”  He stopped, his breath catching as he realized his mistake.

Eleven had stopped walking, her hands clenched together in her pink mittens.  She’d always known that there was something…off about her name.  Maybe it was the way only Papa used it while the other scientists called her nothing at all, or maybe how deeply unsettled Benny had been when he’d heard it.  But to hear that her name was a number, something simply listed along the line of unimportant figures…

Mike was turning red and stumbling over his words.  “El I…I’m sorry,”

She told herself it didn’t matter.  She wasn’t there anymore.  The boys called her El most of the time anyway, and that felt like a real name.  It didn’t matter.  It didn’t.  Slowly, she shrugged and kept walking.

Dustin hadn’t noticed their conversation nor was he still counting- it was Lucas’s turn to chew him out and he was protesting vehemently to every word.  Mike hoped they’d shut up about it soon.  El needed to spend some time at the park with them, forgetting the origin of her name and why it was given to her in the first place.  Although she probably never would forget, would she?  Mike kicked at a pile of leaves as he walked.  She’d never forget anything from the lab, especially not her own name.

Mike nearly plowed into El’s back as she stopped, whipping around to face him.  She grabbed his arm, squeezing right down to the bone.  “Mike,”

“What is it?”  If she looked upset before, it was nothing compared to this.

“One, two, three, four, five…”  Eleven’s grip was becoming painful.

“I-I don’t understand, El,”  Mike said.  He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down somehow.

She twisted away from his hand, throwing her arms out in frustration.  “There’s more!  There’s one, two, three, four, five…”

She’d attracted the attention of the others now too, who’d never seen her so frazzled.  “Eleven, what are you trying to say?”  Lucas asked in the firm voice no one else in the group could ever muster.

“There’s more me,”  El gasped, jabbing a finger at her chest.  “There’s one, two, three, four, five…eleven!”

“Did you ever see anyone else in the lab?”  Will asked gently.

She shook her head, running her hands through her short, curly hair in exasperation.

“The lab is under new management now,”  Max pointed out.  “Dr. Owens or even Dr. Brenner…they’re gone.  If there are others from the lab, they’re not there anymore.”

El’s eyes were filling with tears.

“We don’t even know if there are more though,”  Mike interjected weakly.  “The number sequence could be random.  Or maybe that’s not what it’s for at all.  Maybe it’s all just…”  He was fumbling too much with the theory to continue.  It didn’t matter what he said anyway- they all knew Eleven was right.  And what could they do about it?  They had to fight tooth and nail to save Will, and then to save Eleven.  They were lucky to have all six of them together as it was.  

“We’re sorry, El,”  Dustin murmured.  “Really,”

She stared, rotating her penetrating gaze to each of them before whispering,  “I want to go back home,”

Wordlessly, the group followed as Eleven cut back through the woods to the Wheeler’s house, where she opened the door and went upstairs to the guest room where she often stayed.  The door closed and Mike had a sinking feeling in his chest; the door would not be opening any time soon.


DOUBLE DATE (Day 2 Double Date AU)

The doors to their private room opens and she’s a little taken aback to find that her companion is not alone. There’s a man seated across from her bedmate for the evening, a woman on his right, and Lena racks her mind because she can’t remember signing up for extra company. She’s too tired to put on a façade.

Her gaze is locked onto the only person she knows in the room, the one who relishes in playing games.

She gathers her composure and steps further inside. Her Luthor upbringing won’t allow her to be bested by anyone. Not even to the daughter of real estate tycoon, her current fling; Veronica Sinclair.

“Sweetheart,” Veronica greets and Lena manages a sliver of a smile that she knows is insincere. “Glad you could finally join me.”

“I was held up at work.” she doesn’t bother apologizing. A Luthor never admits their wrongdoing. “But I see you’ve found company in my absence.” her gaze drifts to the two strangers before her, giving them that trained Luthor smile, before taking her seat. “Like always.”

“This is Mike Ellison.” Veronica introduces, looking at the man like he’s the appetizer she’s going to consume. “He started working at the firm, I believe three months ago.”

“It was actually four months ago.” the man intercedes.

“My apologies.” Veronica’s smirk widens. “I suppose I can’t help but think of that first time I saw that roguish grin that went with that strapping chest of yours.”

“Please, you’re embarrassing me Ms. Sinclair.” he smirks proudly.

“And how many times do I have to remind you to call me Veronica, Michael.” both the raven haired woman and the blonde roll their eyes.

“Apparently not enough.” Lena murmurs. Kara looks at the raven haired woman, knowing she recognizes her from somewhere but can’t quite place the face with a name. “But I believe there are further introductions to be made.” she continues before anyone can remark.  “And you are?” Lena waits for the blonde to introduce herself.

“Where are my manners?” the Sinclair heiress cuts in, a twinkle of mischief in her deep dark brown, almost black, eyes and Lena readies herself because she knows her bedmate never does anything if she won’t benefit from this somehow. “Allow me to introduce you to Michael’s girlfriend.” sounding absolutely gleeful as she regards the blonde she’d been disparaging not too long ago and the youngest Luthor knows the other woman is a key player in tonight’s game.

“I’m not his girlfriend.” Ms. Danvers is quick to correct, head wagging fiercely with her nose wrinkled in distaste at the very idea.

“Ms. Danvers here is a reporter.” Veronica grins wide.

Lena’s eyes narrow toward Veronica, knowing the game had begun. Her smile tightens as she regards the reporter sitting before her.

“I see.” Lena replies after sipping her glass.

“But Ms. Danvers doesn’t just work for some small time newspaper, despite her appearance.” Kara and Lena both bristle at the obvious insult while Mike just sits and smiles. “She a junior reporter at Catco.” she grins predatorily like she’d just caught Lena in her trap from which there would be no escape.

“Well, I started recently actually.” her hand reaches up, fingers at the rim of her glasses as she pushes them back. “I used to be Cat Grant’s assistant but…”

“Ms. Danvers,” the Sinclair heiress cuts her off. “I insist on proceeding with the proper introductions.” there’s a twinkle of mischief in Veronica’s eyes and Lena readies herself because she knows CatCo is one of the biggest critics of her brother. “This is the head of Luthor Corp’s Research and Development branch, the youngest C.O.O. ever to grace the business community, Lex Luthor’s younger sister.” recognition flashes in Kara’s eyes.

“That was a mouthful.” Lena retorts unkindly. “Though I think Veronica could have spared the lengthy introduction by just saying that I am Lena Luthor.”

“Well, I know you love to make yourself known.” Veronica ripostes.

“There isn’t a room I walk into that does not know who I am.” she doesn’t really have to do anything for eyes to flock her way since she’s because the Luthor’s have their hands in practically everything. “Unlike you, dear.” because Lena’s surname holds more weight in the world.

Lena can practically feel the CatCo reporter’s eyes drifting between her and Veronica. She turns to face those baby blues.

She’s expecting to see judgment but instead the blonde is frowning with concern that seems to be directed toward her alone. The tension between her and Veronica can be cut with a knife and it’s clear to anyone with any intelligence that the Sinclair heiress is purposely baiting the youngest Luthor, no doubt wanting to instigate a negative reaction that can be published of the news outlets tomorrow.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys but I could scarf down an entire cow right about now.” Mike remarks as he finally looks up from his menu, completely oblivious to the barbs states shared between his boss and her counterpart.

“I recommend the Wagyu.” Veronica suggests, when a member of the wait staff comes to take their orders, her tone heavy and sultry. “It’s very tender, soft, melts right in your mouth.” the waitress commits all their orders to memory before scampering back off to the kitchen to place their designated meals.

Veronica and Mike are leaning forward, talking, seemingly enraptured in each other’s company.

Lena’s gaze travels upward toward the blonde who’s staring intently at her plate. She leans toward the reporter. She might as well make use of the blonde seated in front of her looking as bored as she is. Ms. Danvers catches the movement from her peripherals. Bright baby blue eyes are now gazing in her direction.

“How long have you been at CatCo?” Lena finds herself asking because the blonde can’t be more than in her early twenties.

“Ummm.” her brows furrow, knotting the middle of her forehead. “I was Ms. Grants assistant for two years before she promoted me as a junior reporter two weeks ago.” her hand reaches up, fingers pushing back the black frames upon her nose bridge.

“That’s quite a feat.” Cat Grant has a reputation for being a perfectionist. “You must have been very competent.”

“Or perhaps there’s more to little Ms. Danvers than meets the eye.” Veronica intercedes, eyes narrow as her smirk widens, looking as though she’s about to pounce on her prey. “I suppose I understand the attraction seeing as Cat Grant seems like the type to get off on telling others what to do.” the insinuation isn’t lost on Lena or the CatCo employee. “And you look like you’d be crawling on your knees, so very eager to please.”

“Come now, Veronica, not everyone sleeps with their assistant.” Lena can attest to this fact since she certainly has not. “Cat Grant is a professional and I’m sure Ms. Danvers is the same.” why else would notable Cat Grant keep her around.

“Ms. Grant is very professional.” bright blues focus on the way Lena’s smirking derisively at Veronica Sinclair. She blushes and it’s obvious to Lena that the blonde isn’t used to hearing compliments. “I try to be.” she’s fidgeting now, undoubtedly unaccustomed to being the topic of the room.

“She must see your potential.” there’s a glimmer, a fire behind those glasses that Lena is absolutely certain could set her own icy exterior aflame.

“Ms. Grant’s just kind.” and Lena’s certain she’s never heard that word associated with the renowned Pulitzer writer, head of her own media conglomerate, Catherine Grant. “She’s very helpful, always giving me advice.” she bows her head. “She’s very patient with me.”

“Great patience is called for on the hard path that you have entered on.” Lena finds herself paraphrasing.

“I absolutely love Degas.” baby blues brighten and Lena can swear she’s almost blinded by the dreamy look on the reporter’s face. “The movement between his strokes, how the dancers seem like they’ve been captured in mid movement yet they still seem to flow.” Ms. Danvers prattles on and Lena’s all too content to listen. “It’s all very graceful, unlike myself.”

“You mean you’re not a dancer, Ms. Danvers?” Lena questions, genuinely curious.

“I’m afraid I haven’t really had much experience dancing.” the blonde blushes in slight embarrassment as Lena nods, knowing there probably hasn’t been much opportunity for the reporter to partake. “I’m not coordinated enough for it, really.” and Lena knows she’s saying it because she believes her words to be true and not because she’s fishing for compliments.

The blonde seems far from the type to frequent the club scene and perhaps she stood like the perfect wallflower during school dances. She seems timid, uncertain, fidgety, and so pure. Quite unlike anyone Lena’s ever met.

“I’m sure you’d be marvelous,” the youngest Luthor assures, genuinely believing her words. “With the right partner.” she knows how it must sound, how she’s smirking, leaning a little forward toward the reporter, must seem like she’s propositioning herself, offering herself up on a platinum platter.

The thing is she is.

And she isn’t even doing this, acting sultry and seductive, to spite Victoria or to beat the Sinclair at her own game.

“I haven’t done a lot of dancing with partners.” Kara divulges with her baby blues eyes pouring into Lena’s emerald greens, sparkling with fondness and a hint of heartache. “The last time I danced was when I was five.” she confesses. “My mother signed me up for beginner’s ballet.” her eyes glimmer briefly with sadness. “I was in there for like, five minutes and then I sprained my ankle doing a simple lift to on the bar.” Lena looks at her in disbelief and the reporter just blushes. “So I think I’d be too worried on stepping on my partner’s toes.”

“I stand by my earlier statement.” she affirms.

“Somehow I think dancing the waltz isn’t as simple as you make it out to be.” she’s certain it isn’t just a well-timed count of a step. “It’s kind of like painting, isn’t it?” Lena cocks her head to the side, intrigued by the blonde’s words. “You can’t just give someone paint and a brush and expect them to create something remotely good.”

“You’re speaking from experience.” Lena deduces.

“I dabble a little.” she admits. “I’m nowhere near the league of a master like Picasso or anything like that, but I think it’s safe to say I’m a better painter than a dancer.” the youngest Luthor’s eyes don’t leave hers and she’s trapped. Like quicksand, she’s sinking further and further. But strangely, she doesn’t want to escape. “I guess I find it easier to get lost between the strokes rather than the steps.”

“You need the right partner to inspire those feelings.”

“I suppose you could be right.” Kara concedes with a gentle smile. “After all, dancing is another art form, kind of like writing.” she supposes it’s all about flowing, except she’s supposed to do it with her feet instead of her head.

“Babe, come on. Let’s not bore everyone at the table.” Mike interjects.

“I hardly find the subject matter tedious but I suppose it is a bit hard to follow for someone who cannot appreciate the finer things in life.” Lena rebuts, earning a grateful smile from the blonde who looks like she’s trying very hard to maintain her composure.

“Don’t mind her, Michael.” Veronica dismisses Lena’s words. “She’s always a bit cranky after staying so late in the office.” she gestures at the server and Lena rolls her eyes because really, the bottle was positioned a mere foot away from the real estate heiress. “I think you may need to refill your glass.” Veronica advises. “It’ll definitely help loosen you up.”

“I think you’re loose enough for the both of us.” Veronica frowns but all Lena cares about is how Kara’s hiding her smile behind her water glass.

The wait staff seems to have some sort of sixth sense because they manage to diffuse the tension once more as they begin to bring the entrée’s to the table. The servers place each of the beautifully crafted food that almost looks too pretty to eat in front of their designated destinations.

“What did I tell you?” Veronica asks as Mike takes a healthy bite of his steak.

“It’s so good.” he’s practically moaning and both Lena and Kara find themselves losing their appetites.

“It goes even better with this cabernet.” she tilts her glass toward Mike who takes it without question, smirking boyishly before taking a sip. “Well?”

“You have really good taste.” her employee compliments.

“Unlike some.” Veronica looks pointedly at the blonde who, instead of looking jealous, just seems tired.

“I don’t think you should be questioning Ms. Danvers tastes.” Lena remarks as she looks at the woman beside her in disgust. “It would be criminal to say that to someone who loves Degas works.”

“I forget how passionate you get with your artworks, dear.” Veronica remarks patronizingly. “I’ve always been more of a food connoisseur myself.” she boasts. “And I do say, what you have is certainly appetizing Michael.” her tone indicates she certainly isn’t talking about the food on his plate. “And I could certainly do with more… meat.”

“I’m sure Mike here will be more than happy to help you.” Kara rolls her eyes, smiling a smile that doesn’t brighten her eyes as she locks gazes with the rude socialite, no longer able to stomach their disgusting display of disregard toward their intended company. “And from what I’ve heard,” because the man had quite a reputation at their university. “You probably won’t have to worry about choking on any meat he has to offer.” Lena doesn’t bother stifling her laugh.

The reporter seems mild mannered but she certainly has bite.

“Come on, Kara, no need to get your panties in a twist.” Kara turns her sights from the real estate heiress over to her would be date. “All those late hours at the office is rattling your mind babe.” he places a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm the journalist. “I’m just being nice.”

“First of all, I’m not your babe and I’m never going to want to be your babe.” her nose crinkles in disgust. “God help the poor woman who does.” though that hypothetical woman would probably deserve it, falling for a boy like Mike Ellison. “Second of all, we have very different definitions regarding the word nice.” hers is the legitimate dictionary definition while his was more the more liberal suggestion.

“Nice is holding the door in front of a woman.” Lena finds herself supplying as she glares at the immature imbecile. “Nice is helping a child cross the street.” she can feel those bright blues peering her way but she keeps the patented Luthor glower directed at the poor example of man sitting at her table. “Exchanging sexually charged innuendo with another woman in front of your date is hardly nice.” Lena focuses on the Neanderthal before her, her smile sickeningly saccharine. “And you know, some of us actually have to work for a living and not just attempt to sleep our way to the top.”

“I don’t see how this concerns you.” Mike’s eyes narrow as he attempts, rather pathetically in Lena’s honest opinion, to look intimidating.

“You are at the room I booked, breathing in the same air as I am, eating a meal that will be charged on my account, so I would say this behavior of yours does concern me.” she doesn’t hold back, wanting the man to remember he isn’t fit to lick the sole of her designer heels.

“Now, now Lena, play nice with the common folk.” Veronica interjects, knowing it will only fuel the situation.

“I’m done here.” the blonde gently places her napkin back on the table before making her way out. “By the way Mike,” she pauses by the doorway, throwing one last glance at the man. “The next time you want to impress a girl, try not to be such a dick about it.” the reporter states like she’s commenting on the bland weather outside the restaurant. “It was nice meeting you Ms. Luthor.” she doesn’t bother sparing a glance at Veronica.

“She was getting kind of boring anyway.” Mike brushes off the rejection with false bravado.

“I suppose the vernacular she uses must escape you from time to time, given she doesn’t speak like she’s fresh from the sorority house.” a woman of such intelligence is hardly boring. “Don’t even bother mouthing off another word to me or I will make it my personal mission to make certain the only thing you’ll be fit to do is pick up trash for the rest of your life.” Lena promises and apparently, Mike isn’t dense enough to dismiss the severity of the Luthor’s claims. “Must you always be so destructive, Veronica?” she watches as the blonde leaves the room.

“I thought that’s what you loved about me?” all Lena wants to do is wipe that gleeful smirk off her face.

So she does.

“When have I ever claimed to love you?” she turns her focus on the reporter’s date who is busy cutting up his steak. “Now, I think we’ve taken this little game as far as we can.” Lena stands. “I would say it was nice meeting you but I don’t see the point in lying.” the Luthor remarks as she turns toward Veronica. “I trust you understand this means our dalliances are concluded.”

“You say that now but you’ll come crawling back…” Veronica states boldly.

“You deluded woman.” Lena cackles coldly. “When have I ever crawled to you?” she questions, an elegant brow curved challengingly as her eyes narrow dangerously. She can’t think of a scenario where she begged for Veronica’s company. “You believe you’re the cat but really you’re the insignificant mouse in our little game.” she walks toward the door. “But I suppose I should thank you,” manners dictate her to do so. “For bringing me someone who is actually worth my time.”


She rushes out of the restaurant, eyes instantly scouring the streets for the maiden with golden hair. It doesn’t take her long to spot Kara near the edge of the curb, a few feet from the restaurant’s entrance. The raven haired genius makes her approach.

“I apologize for the scene back there.” Lena begins.

“It’s fine.” Kara looks at her phone, readying to order an Uber. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to write about what happened back there.”

“I’m not apologizing because I’m worried of being the headline in tomorrow’s paper.” Lena clarifies, miffed that her genuine gesture of goodwill is being reduced to a ploy to get her name out of the news. “I am quite used to being made a spectacle.” the young woman holds her head high. “And despite what your publication believes,” there have been many articles condemning her brother for the way he conducts business. “A Luthor can be decent.” she prepares to turn but baby blues lock onto her emerald greens and she finds herself unable to move.

“I’m sorry.” the blonde deflates. “I’m just frustrated about the Mike thing, what was happened back there, about work, but that’s no reason to take it out on you.” baby blues flash with genuine regret.

“Apology accepted.”

“I don’t really believe in everything I read.” she clarifies. “I learned a lot from Ms. Grant.” the newbie journalist begins. “One is to trust my gut.” as she stands on the sidewalk with the richest and most influential woman in the world, something tells her not to trust the words “As a junior reporter, I’m learning about personal biases and searching the truth for myself which means checking facts and making sure sources are credible before I even think about writing an article.” believing the blonde’s words as those baby blues shine like a beacon of truth, Lena nods.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m famished.” her car pulls up, the valet having no need to see her ticket for everyone knows who Lena Luthor is. “Join me for dinner.” she turns toward the blonde.

“You telling or asking?” the blonde looks amused either way.

“Telling.” she walks toward her passenger side door, opening it wide as a gesture for the blonde to hop inside. “I’d like to continue our conversation about Degas’s masterpieces on a full stomach.” Lena baits the blonde, knowing she’s probably itching to gush about artworks with someone who can understand what she’s talking about.

“And you always get what you want.” Kara states as her feet begin to tread toward the Luthor’s vehicle.

“Of course, I do.” she says as the blonde reporter slides inside her comfortable leather seats. The businesswoman closes the passenger door before making her way to the driver’s side. She tips the valet generously, like always, before taking her seat. She lets the engine roar to life as Kara clips on her seatbelt. “I am a Luthor, after all.” and Kara thinks she shouldn’t find it so charming but she really does.


The bright fluorescent lamp lights cascade down on the pair as they walk toward Lena’s car, eager to enjour their impromptu meal in the empty parking lot of a bank that the food truck where they procured their meal is situated.

“What?” she slides onto the hood of her Audi, gesturing for Kara to do the same. The reporter follows her lead and Lena places the copious amount of food she purchased between them. “Didn’t think a Luthor would be caught dead eating from a place where they don’t serve $1200 dollar bottles of wine?” she proceeds to take a bite out of her bulgogi taco. “I’ll have you know, I used to frequent food trucks around my apartment back in Uni.” she informs after swallowing her food.

“No… it’s nothing like that.” Kara assures, laughing at Lena’s antics, as she follows the genius’s lead once again and takes a bite of her own taco. “That’s so good.” the reporter praises.

“I won’t steer you wrong.” her tone indicates she isn’t just talking about potential eateries.

“You really do look more relaxed than you did before when you walked into the room.” the reporter observes. “You kind of looked like you were walking into an arena or something earlier.” and the youngest Luthor can’t help but be enraptured at how expressive Kara’s bright blues are as they widen and nearly bulge out of her head. “Not that you seemed terrified or anything like that!” she backtracks, fearing she’s offended Lena somehow. “But like you were readying for battle.” she clarifies.

“In my experience, it’s best to treat all scenarios as such.” it is the Luthor way, after all.

“All scenarios?” Kara licks the leftover bulgogi sauce from her bottom lip and Lena can’t help but think it’s absolutely criminal. “Even dates like this?” the blonde questions, head tilting slightly as she does.

“Date?” Lena leans forward.

“I mean… oh my god I’m totally misreading the situation aren’t I? I thought… With the eyes and the touching and the well….” she gestures to their intimate position. But then there’s a flash of understanding in those bright blues and it comforts Lena, to know that there’s one person out there who isn’t trying to hide their truth from the youngest Luthor. “I guess it’s understandable not to want to rush anything since you just walked out on your girlfriend.” an elegant brow curves upward. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

“Don’t be.” Lena reaches out, hand placed atop of Kara’s meaningfully. “And you most certainly do not have to worry about being a rebound or anything of the sort since Veronica was not my girlfriend.” she’d hate for Kara to feel as though she’s being dragged into an insipid game between her and Veronica.

“No?” and the raven haired businesswoman could swear she actually saw the blonde’s ears perk up upon hearing the information.

“More of an acquaintance I meet with from time to time.”

“An acquaintance?” Kara questions in disbelief because a woman wouldn’t wear such a low cut dress while having dinner in a private room if they were merely having dinner with an acquaintance. “Do you always use such endearing epithets to call upon acquaintances?”

“Why Ms. Danvers is that jealousy I detect?” Lena teases good-naturedly.

“I’m just naturally inquisitive.” Kara huffs. “And yes,” she declares because she’s always been honest. “Maybe I’m a little jealous.” the reporter answers, earning a wide grin from the youngest Luthor.

“There’s no need to be.” she affirms because Kara’s romantic inclinations are very much reciprocated. “Veronica is a somewhat regular dalliance.” Lena bites her lower lip and now Kara finds herself wanting to do the job herself. “She’s perhaps, the closest thing I’ve had to a relationship.” it’s surprisingly easy, opening up to the reporter. It goes against her nature, but conversing with Kara just comes so naturally. “I’ve known Victoria since boarding school.” Lena discloses.

“You were in love with her?” Kara guesses.

“God no.” Lena shakes her head. “I saw her as a challenge.” she admits. “She likes playing games and I never back down from a challenge.” her Luthor heritage simply won’t permit it. “At first I thought these games were a sad attempt to make me jealous but that meant Veronica could actually feel something other than the need to connive and to fuck.” Kara blushes a bit at her word choice but lets her continue. “Then I thought it was just a ploy to rile me up in bed,” it never worked because she hadn’t really cared. “But I realized she just loves all manner of fucking with people.”

“You don’t seem like the type who would put up with that kind of behavior.” though they’ve only met, she can see this defiant fire behind those emerald depths.

“To be honest, I don’t really care what she does.” the blonde looks so confused and Lena knows she’s fighting her reporter’s instincts by not voicing her question. She also knows it’s because Kara doesn’t want to intrude, because the blonde isn’t looking at her as a subject to write about, but as a person she’d genuinely like to know. Lena looks away, afraid those bright blues will dim with judgment. “I suppose she’s a habit I didn’t want to break.” she finds herself rationalizing.

“You don’t really have to explain.” Kara smiles assuring that she isn’t judging the raven haired beauty before her.

“I’ve just been consumed with work and after that last woman I bedded violated that NDA form,” Lena sighs and Kara nods her head, remembering an article about some model’s wild night with the youngest Luthor about a year ago. “Veronica is there when I want her and the sex was quite good.” it’s a shallow reason, she knows. “Not many people would touch a Luthor with a ten foot pole, at least not without asking for something Brobdingnagian in return.”


“It’s alright.” she’s used to this treatment, to being used. “Though I am sorry you got dragged into her little game.”

“I actually should be thanking you for giving me the opportunity and for sticking up for me as well back there.” Kara discloses, letting Lena know there wasn’t any actual harm done because she greatly appreciated the young genius’s actions. “Not many people would have stood up for a stranger they just met.”

“Not that you needed help, but I was merely being truthful.” it wasn’t about coming to Kara’s aid but just her trying voice her opinion.

“I guess it’s my turn now since you’re probably wondering why I went out with such a d bag.” the query had crossed her mind. “Mike and I went to college together and he’d been hounding me for a date for years so I finally gave in.” Kara smiles easy and carefree, knowing a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders. “I told myself maybe he would change but I always knew he would never grow out of being…”

“An imbecilic frat boy?”

“Yeah.” Kara laughs. “See, my sister Alex just got married,” she begins. “My friend James Olsen got promoted as Chief Editor,” a lot of late nights at the office. “And my best friend Winn finally got a girlfriend.” she rattles off the list of people that have slowly been drifting away from her. “I guess I was just tired of walking into an empty apartment.” she was in no position to judge the youngest Luthor. “I should have just gotten a dog.”

“I thought you just got rid of the old one.” Kara laughs.

“You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?” she knows but she finds herself incredibly willing to face whatever challenge the raven haired beauty might pose.

“Yes but I’ve no doubt in your capabilities Miss Danvers.” Lena threads their fingers together, looking at Kara like she painted the stars and the moon onto the night sky, and all Kara wants to do is kiss the woman senseless.

So she does.

Their mouths meld and despite the taste of bulgogi sauce lingering on the blonde’s lips, she can still taste the sweetness that is undoubtedly Kara Danvers. It’s perfect and sweet and Lena finds herself instantly addicted to the journalist’s taste.

They part reluctantly and Lena takes the opportunity to wipe the taco crumb from the blushing blonde’s cheek.

She looks so beautiful under the fluorescent lamp lights and Lena’s certain she’s never beheld such an effervescent creature in her entire existence. She pulls her in for another kiss, one that Kara reciprocates with equal fervor.

They grin against each other’s lips, enjoying the best date they’ve ever been on their entire lives, content with the knowledge it certainly won’t be their last.


from a page this since been deleted

Nate and I had been freinds for a while. Our first week of high
school was finally over, and to celebrate, Nate asked me if I wanted
to spend the night at his house. I thought it would be fun, so I
said yes, and went over to his house that night. His Dad made us
tacos and refried beans for dinner. They were actually pretty good,
Nate’s favorite, so he had 3 platefuls, I couldn’t believe that, I
was stuffed after only 1. His dad told us he was going to bed, and
that we should do the same soon. So we changed into our pj’s, which
for nate was a very tight pair of grey cotton shorts and a t-shirt.
We crawled into our sleeping bags and layed down, tucked in for the
night, when suddenly, I had to fart soooo bad from all that mexican
food. it built up, and built up until finally PPPPPPRRRRFFFFTTTT! I
let out a loud nasty fart. Nate was discusted. “oh man, that stinks
dude, you’re gonna pay for that.” Figuring he was jokeing around,
and not thinking too much of it I laughed and fell rigt asleep.

I woke up a couple hours later to the Sound of Nate laughing. The
lights had been turned on and I could see Nate standing over me,
still laughing. I couldn’t figure out what was so funny, but I
suddenly realized that my arms were tied together behind my back, and
my ankles were tied together also. “Whats going on Nate?” I asked, he
just giggled a little more and turned around so that he was still
standing over me, but with his back faceing me. Then he started to
lower his body, as he did, the fabric of his tight grey shorts clung
to his ass, which made its way closer and closer to my face. I
squirmed about, but it was no use, and Nate’s ass lowered itself
closer and closer to my face, until it was only about an inch away,
then he finally stopped and
let out one of the loudest, longest, and stinkiest fart I had ever
come in contact with. I guess he heard me trying to breathe through
my mouth to avoid the stink, so he grabbed an old pair of his white
briefs that was laying on the floor and stuffed them in my mouth. As
I squirmed and mummbled with dicontent he lowered ass until it was
now touching my face, and continued to push with his strong ass until
my nose was pushed tightly against the seam of his tight shorts that
was going up his ass crack. He farted again and rubbed his smelly
ass around on my poor helpless nose. Nate was like a non-stop
farting machine oooohhing and ahhhhing as he continued to fart and
grind his smelly ass on my face. I felt like I was gonna die, I was
trapped in the stinky confines of Nate’s ass crack which grew hotter
and hotter with each fart. I was sweatying like crazy, and I could
start to tell that Nate’s ass was sweating as well as his shorts
began to get damp. Just as I began to wonder if this nightmare would
ever end, I heard Nate’s older brother Mike shout from the
doorway “Nate, what the hell are you doing?” I was embarassed that
his brother had seen what he was doing to me, but at the same time
relieved that I would finally be saved. But Nate just laughed and
said “We had mexican food for dinner tonight, and I don’t really feel
like stinkying up the whole house.” Mike replied, “Good thinking,
mind if I use our little air freshener too?” Nate said “Of course
not, just let me get this one last one out.” Nate then unloaded a
mamouth SBD up my poor unsuspecting nose. It lasted almost an entire
minute, and smelled of rotten eggs. Mike and Nate both laughed
hysterically as I lay trapped under Nate’s stinky ass feeling sick.
Nate finally stood up, and for a briefs second I got a wiff of fresh
air. Then I saw Mike turn his back toward me. He pulled down his
pants, exposing tight black boxerbriefs. He sat down right on my
nose and immidiately let out a giagantic fart. Mike Said “How does
that smell Fart Face?” and pulled the briefs out of my mouth so I
could respond. I told him it smelled like hell, like hot stinky ass
and it was makeing me feel sick. Mike just laughed and shoved the
briefs back in my mouth and continued farting. I began to feel like
I was dieing, my whole body felt weak and all I could concentrate on
was the extreme stench. Finally I felt Mike’s ass lift up and
thought it was all over. then I saw his hand reach back and pull
down his boxerbriefs, exposing his bare ass. It was muscular and
slightly hairy. I tried to beg him not to put his naked butt on my
poor helpless face, but between the briefs in my mouth and the lack
of energy, I doubt he even knew I was trying to speak. I saw his
bare ass lowering itself to my face again and heard Mike say “now
you’re gonna get it good Ass Face” Before letting his ass touch my
face again, he spread his ass cheeks apart and pointed right to his
big smelly asshole and said, “thats where your nose belongs.” Then
he continued to hold his butt cheeks spread wide apart until his ass
came in contact with my face again. He pushed his widespread hole
down on my nose, and then let his butt cheeks mold around my face.
At this point, even without him farting it smelled like hell. Nate
said, “careful Mike, you’re gonna kill him” MIke laughed and
said, “Nah, he might pass out, but he won’t die.” and then let go
with the longest fart I have ever encountered in my whole life.
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT! It was a long smelly SBD that lasted well over
a minute. Although I am not sure exactly how long because I passed
out about half way through it.

Mike Faist: *exists*

Me: *runs down stairs* wow A+ *crashes into wall* A+ to the young gentleman for just existing man I just omfg *wheezes* I just love him okay wow just A++++++ human beinging right there good shit *heavy breathing* good shit the best shit right there hell fucking yeah mmhm damn it my heart holy fuck I mean c’mon have you seen this man like wow what the cheese this man is beautiful wow just A+++ right there A to the frickin ++++

Afterward (Week 5)

No real notes this time. And it’s…ahem…work safe this week. Next week’s installment will be late (or quite early, maybe on Saturday…since I’ll be away for a while after that. As always, if you’re new to this fic, start at the beginning: Day 0.

Originally posted by tobias-eaton

Sara left for her weekly NA meeting just before 7 pm, leaving Michael to finish the school night bedtime routine. She hadn’t been gone five minutes before Mike donned his jacket and bike helmet. “I’m going to Dylan’s,” he told Michael matter-of-factly.

Michael looked up from the professional engineering listings he’d been perusing in surprise. He knew Dylan was Heather and Larry’s kid, but what on earth made Mike think he could ride over there at this time of evening? “Not now,” he said with equal certainty.

Mike stared him down, helmet already snapped below his chin. “Why not? He has a new Wii game. He told me I could come try it, at school today.”

Michael shut the laptop. Was he serious? “He’ll still have it tomorrow,” he said. He gave Mike a smile.

It wasn’t returned. “It won’t be new tomorrow.”

Michael frowned. “That may be true, but it’s a school night, and bedtime is 8:00. It’s almost time for you to take your bath. You know that.”

“Mom wouldn’t care.”

“Ha,” Michael answered. “Right.”

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Would you do a Josh X reader prompt “I came back for you”? Where the reader goes back for Josh (leaving right before Sam and Mike go down to the basement in the last chapter) and saves him? - Requested by Anonymous

This couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t believe it. Mike had lied. Josh couldn’t be dead. You refused to believe it, darting away from the two of them – despite your sister’s calls, Sam’s pleas for you to go back to her were still ringing in your ears. You couldn’t just leave Josh there. It was the least you could do… to get the…

‘Josh?’ you asked tentatively, seeing a figure huddled in the corner, rocking slightly.

Josh’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice. The sudden movement caused you to stumble a few paces. Josh was looking worse for wear. His eyes were wide with fear, and shock seemed to have clouded his features – though you were sure it was nothing to do with seeing you. His attention was darting skittishly around the room.

‘Hannah’s here,’ he said in little more than a whisper.

Your heart felt as though it stopped. He seemed so certain that he’d seen his sister.

‘Josh, we’ve gotta go,’ you said, swallowing your fear and taking a cautious step forwards.

Josh seemed to shrink into his corner slightly, his attention darting all over the little cove, flicking across everything other than you.

‘Please, Josh,’ you said, hearing your own voice breaking slightly. You knew how much he’d been through, how it’d affected him; how much he’d put everyone else through, the horrors that you’d all faced had lead on from the things he’d done, but there was no way you were leaving him for the wendigoes.

‘C’mon, we’re gonna get out of here,’ you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Something in your voice seemed to snap Josh out of his little rut for a moment. His eyes cleared a little and his focus suddenly snapped towards you.

‘Why’re you here, (Y/n)?’ he asked, his voice little more than a worried whisper.

‘I came back for you,’ you told him, moving to crouch in front of him. ‘Now c’mon, we’ve gotta get out of here before –’

A loud shriek cut you off though, but it seemed to be moving away from you. Your blood ran cold, but right now you needed to focus on Josh – the others would be all right, they had each other.

‘Why?’ asked Josh dolefully.

You groaned slightly, grabbing his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

‘Joshua Washington get up!’ you told him sternly. ‘This is like when we were five and I save you from all the monsters. Please,’ you added, somewhat pathetically.

‘Saved me?’ he asked, sounding slightly amused as you helped him up. ‘I so protected you all those times.’

You chuckled, despite how desperate you were, how terrified you were, you managed it.

‘Well then, let me repay you by saving you this time,’ you said, draping his arm over your shoulders.

‘Thank you,’ he said in a small voice, limping beside you towards safety. You were going to get out of this somehow. But you were doing it together, like normal.

In the Wake of Sunbeams | ch3 |

Summary: Through thick and thin, siblings look out for each other. After all, adventures and mishaps are best when shared. (oneshots for Sunshine Siblings Week)

Title/Prompt: Gardening
Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3
AN: For some reason, writing this reminded me of this McDonald’s sign that we’d always pass which said ‘Over 99 billion served’ and for the longest time when I was young and had poor, uncorrected eyesight (and even poorer reading comprehension apparently), I thought it said ‘Over 99 balloons saved’. Hah, alas. Well, I think anyone who knows me in the slightest recognized that I would go straight for the gardening prompt. I can’t deny that writing this was incredibly fun and just what I needed, so I’m rather happy with how this turned out, which is a first in a very long while. Likely the last prompt I’ll be able to submit on time (still planning to write them all though!) since school has started again and I can no longer overestimate how long I can stay awake and still function. Happy reading!
(Also on ff.net)

It is peaceful in the backyard, in the garden, the kind of calm that makes one boneless, the kind that settles and tucks over like the softest of blankets. Wind chimes sing a quiet lullaby, light and enchanting, courtesy of playful breezes that come around to whisper in their ears and kiss their cheeks before dashing off again. Sunlight, rich and warm, spills across the grass and lights the flowers until they become a bouquet of colours, bright and stunning. The day is light and clear with blue skies and puffy white clouds the size of mountains, the sort of day that makes the heart ache with the knowledge that such a perfect moment cannot last forever.

Underneath the dappled shade of the apple tree, Naruto sits back and sighs, allowing the sweet and heady fragrance of dirt and grass and ripening apples to calm and relax his mind. He sets his gardening gloves and spade carefully next to him and stretches his long legs out, mimicking the thick roots that rise above and dip beneath the ground like waves reaching out towards the house before completely relaxing, his limbs utterly at ease. He shuts his eyes and feels the spots of light that peek through the leaves of the tree and that glide across the ground and across his form, warm on his skin and as light as a kiss.

A hum rises from the back of his throat as an actual kiss, soft and gentle and touched by the scent of lavender, presses against the whiskers on his cheek. He grins slowly, lazily, and his eyes flicker open to take in the sight of his wife, her indigo hair glowing violet at the edges from the sun and her lavender eyes creased in a happiness, a smile dancing on her lips.

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Call My Name

“Call My Name”
Song- She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty

**Smut Warning*

Everyone’s at the bar. The boys are touring and they deserve to have a day off.

Everything was going perfectly up until Jaime and Tony started wrestling and broke one of the chairs.

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Hypothermia - Chapter 8

Mike x Reader

First Chapter - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

It was Mike.

He was covered in dirt and bruises and dried blood and he was wearing some green jacket that you knew for a fact he didn’t own.

But it was Mike.

You didn’t waste any time before running straight to him, though it was more of a hobble in your weakened state, barreling into his open and waiting arms. Suddenly, everything was okay. You weren’t going to die alone on this mountain, you weren’t going to be stuck here forever, you weren’t going to have to regret that your last words to him were so trivial. Mike was in your arms and everything was going to be okay.

When you finally pulled your face out of the crook of his neck where you had buried it and looked at his face, it blew you away. He was looking at you like it was the first time he’d seen sunlight after days of darkness. He was shaking beneath you, though you were pretty sure you were too, and you could see the wear and tear the night had had on him, but if there was ever a time when he had been more beautiful, you couldn’t recall it.

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Bearing Bad News

Take the night. See your families if you have them.

Those were the words Erwin Smith had spoken to the remaining members of the Survey Corps upon their return from the 57th expedition. This time, there were more families left behind than soldiers returned, and Mike Zakarius, with his trusted Nanaba beside him, had taken the task of bringing letters to the families of the fallen and reciting the words he was beginning to doubt truth in.

Their sacrifice will help lend its way to our victory.

Though neither he nor Nanaba bore their sorrow on their faces, by the end of the evening, it was evident in their step, what had once been a proud march had dwindled to nothing more than a forlorn trudging.

With his fist poised high in the air, he took a breath, preparing to knock on the very last door. Beside him, the petite blonde straightened, running a few fingers through her disheveled hair to comb it into place.

After his knock, there was a pause and he knew the occupants of the house were hesitant to answer. They knew what they’d find on their doorstep. A soldier with news. They might have seen the homecoming procession, they may not have. Judging by the length of time that passed before the door opened, he supposed they hadn’t, and feared the very worst.

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anonymous asked:

maybe some mike x reader headcanons for AFTER the second year event?? like the interview, the hospital etc etc?

  • Mike would not let go of the reader when they got picked up by the helicopter. The police had to pry them apart for the interviews.
  • When Mike finally saw that Jessica was still alive, he rushed to her side, but the reader’s hand was still clasped tightly in his.
  • The reader found out that Mike almost shot Emily right after their interviews. Mike all but broke down in the reader’s arms after Em confronted him.
  • The reader shared a room in the hospital with Sam.
  • The growing friendship between Mike and Sam was pretty obvious. Whenever the reader walked into his hospital room, she would often be there chatting with him.
  • The reader was in the hospital for two weeks, whereas Mike was only in it for one.
  • Even though his dream job is President, he was also considering being a police officer. After the events on the mountain he decided he had seen enough violence and gave up on that.
Wherever He Goes

If Harvey had a dollar for every time a victim or witness had uttered the words, “It all happened so fast”, or some variation thereof, during his time working as a prosecutor he’d have, well, he’d have enough dollars to dine out at his favourite expensive restaurant every night for a month. Or so it felt, anyway. It was a cliché, and Harvey hated clichés. Even if they were true. And he couldn’t deny the truth of this one, when he found himself the witness and Mike the victim. Not that Mike had gone down without a fight.

Idiot, Harvey thought, for about the hundredth time, as the events of the afternoon played on a loop behind his eyes. Reliving the moment over and over again in his head as his mind constantly spiralled back there. One minute Mike was standing on the sidewalk, looking down at Harvey still sitting in the town car Mike had just got out of. The next he was sprawled out on the pavement over half a block away. Only in Harvey’s anxiety-induced visions, Mike didn’t always get up again. Yeah, Harvey had a feeling he was going to be waking up in a cold sweat thinking about all the worst case scenarios for a while. Damn that kid.

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