#oh the second picture is a blueberry costume i made for a baby | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tydy-the-megnet · 4 years

Text

Five Times Michelle Jones Wasn’t Nervous When Meeting an Avenger (And One Time She Was)

What’s up?! merry christmas and felice anno nuovo! This is a gift for @megnetsworld (appropriately named) that was originally supposed to be a christmas gift but i’m a tardy hooligan so.

anyway, a month or two ago I was like “i know you like iron dad but if you had to choose between famvengers and peterchelle which would you choose?”

she chose famvengers, so i was like “but you like peterchelle, right?”

and she was like, “obviously” so i was like “:D”

anyway, little did she suspect I’d do ALL THREE!!!!

enjoy. I hope this puts a Meganwatt smile on your face

…..

The first time Michelle Jones met an actual Avenger was in school, when Dr. Bruce Banner came to give a speech about biochemistry. The speech itself was fine; Dr. Banner was mild-mannered and it got a little stale at points but all around made sense at least.

Really, it was pretty standard to have a scientist come talk at an assembly every now and then, though Dr. Banner was a rather high-profile case. He looked very much like a scientist with his pristine white labcoat and shiny green tie.

The weird part of the event came afterward, when Dr. Banner was leaving. The man dragged Peter – and by extension, Ned and Michelle – to the side. Just to say “Hi.”

“Hey, Mr. Doctor Professor Bruce Hulk Banner, sir.”

Bruce stopped awkwardly at the boy for just long enough for Michelle to roll her eyes at her friend.

“Oh my god, you’re Bruce Banner.”

And there was her other friend, just as awkward.

“Hey.” She shrugged, looking at the famed scientist with bored eyes.

Bruce shook his head, blinking, and looked at them, “I, uh, just wanted to ask how I did? It’s been a while since I’ve done a speech, let alone for teenagers. Did I do alright? This school is pretty up there with its education, so I don’t think I went over your heads, did I?”

“It was great—” “—The coolest thing to ever happen here—” “A little boring.”

Peter and Ned looked sharply at her and she smirked.

She almost felt bad when Dr. Banner actually deflated. As if there was an even smaller ego, like the Hulk but tiny and feeble. More so than Banner, anyway, who genuinely looked like he couldn’t hurt a fly.

“It was? I tried to make it interesting with the slideshow and demonstrations…”

“Don’t listen to her, Dr. Prof. Banner, she’s just not into biochem.”

She shrugged, “Not even becoming a hulk myself could make it interesting.”

He blinked, but Michelle didn’t say anything after that.

…

The second time Michelle met an Avenger happened one weekend when Peter brought Ned and Michelle to the Avenger’s Compound. She caught Clint Barton, more famously known as Hawkeye, snaking into an air vent.

“What’s going on?” She asked, peering curiously at the wriggling archer.

He paused, his body still half dangling from the vent, “Nothing. Who is this?”

“Michelle.” She answered. Swift as an arrow, Clint was on the floor again, staring at her with his arms crossed over his plain grey tee shirt.

She stared back unflinching, brows furrowing, “Are you shorter than me?”

“No,” He said without missing a beat. He was ignoring the fact that he had to stare up at her, even if only slightly, “Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

“I told you, I’m Michelle. I’m with Peter.” She replied lazily. Nodding to the vent, she added, “What were you doing in the vents?”

He paused, considering the question. “That’s official Avengers business. Classified. Top secret stuff. Parker or Quill?”

“Parker. Who’s Quill?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“Thank you.” She offered a half-smile.

Clint gave a sound that was equal parts scoff and laugh, or at least she thought it was. “I’m going to need to investigate this matter. Protocol, you understand. Come with me.” It was obvious he was going for intimidation, but Michelle knew she was allowed here; she’d been invited in, after all.

So she shrugged and followed.

She could also tell that Hawkeye was having fun, from the gleam in his eyes and relaxed posture. Knowing he was a spy made Michelle think he already knew a lot about her – likely more than she would be comfortable with, but it wasn’t like she could do anything about that.

“So,” He said, leading through the corridors toward where Michelle vaguely recalled the foyer being, “Our little Baby Avenger brought himself a girlfriend, huh?”

…

The third Avenger Michelle met was Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, and it was because Clint introduced her. Unsurprisingly to those who knew her, Natasha was more suspicious of Michelle’s presence at the compound than Clint seemed to be. It was fair, Michelle mused, since she probably shouldn’t have been wandering around the compound by herself.

But hey, she was curious, and Peter and Ned were nerding out over a plane, so here she was. She wondered if she was about to be arrested. She kept her bored stare on Natasha’s steely face, even as her stomach crawled toward her feet.

When Natasha failed to say anything after a few moments, Michelle started helpfully, “I’m with Peter.” She paused, waiting for any sort of reaction, but her poker face was unmalleable. “Parker.” She added for good measure.

Natasha nodded slowly, before speaking to nothing in particular, “FRIDAY, send for Peter and his other friend. And tell him not to leave his friends unsupervised in high-tech facilities.”

“Yes, Miss Romanoff.”

“I know who you are,” Natasha said. Even though Michelle already knew that Natasha knew who she was – and likely knew that Michelle knew that she knew – it was very weird to her those words spoken aloud.

It was also incredibly ominous. Very “Big Brother.” Though Michelle doubted Orwell knew about S.H.I.E.L.D. or what it would come to be when he wrote 1984.

It was at several minutes of awkward silence while Michelle waited for her friends under the watchful eyes of two former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. And they were some of the top agents, too. Michelle had thoroughly scoured the data when Natasha had dumped that information into the public web several years ago. Hungry for information and curious of the shadow organization she’d only ever heard rumor of on the darkest parts of the world wide web had Michelle combing through file after file of everything she could find as soon as she could find it.

In fact, she probably knew more about these two agents than some of the other Avengers, though she’d never claim so.

It only made it funnier when Clint said, “You know, normally this is the part where you’d ask us questions? Is there anything you want to know?”

Michelle glanced thoughtfully at him, ignoring the sharp look Natasha gave him, “Yeah actually.” They tensed up, as if they hadn’t actually expected her to ask anything. If that was true, then they clearly didn’t know that much about her. She quirked an eyebrow at the pair, “Was George Orwell a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?”

…

The fourth time Michelle met an Avenger, she should have been amazed at the fact that she now had met three of the original Avengers. The same team that had saved New York from a real life Alien Invasion. And yet, as she stared up at the god of thunder, there was no amazement to be felt. No, at that point she only felt weird, because she was staring at a myth, and that myth was staring back.

Except that myth was staring at her with a mouth full of poptarts, and a box in his arms.

With a mighty gulp, Thor Odinson finished his mouthful of poptarts, never ceasing his big, blue-eyed stare, and set the box on the table.

He stood to greet her, “Hello. I am Thor Odinson of Asgard. I do not believe we’ve met,” He stated kindly, “This leaves me concerned, for I thought only the Avengers and allies were allowed into this place.”

“Hey. I’m Michelle Jones of Queens.” She replied, debating whether to curtsy. She wasn’t wearing a skirt, so she decided against it. “I’m an ally. I’m Peter’s friend.”

“Ah! I see!” Thor stepped forward, and it seemed like he covered the entire kitchen in a single stride, “You are Young Parker’s companion.” The way he said it had her face heating up, like he was insinuating something, “Barton informed me that you were visiting with Parker and his other friend.” He cocked his head, “But I also understand that you and Young Leeds are not to wander the grounds unaccompanied.”

“I wasn’t wandering,” Michelle replied honestly, “I was just coming to get a snack.” And she found one, she thought, steadfastly keeping her eyes on Thor’s face.

“Ah! Of course! And how rude of me to interrupt!” He turned and leaned over the table, grabbing the box of poptarts he’d been devouring and offering it to her like a trophy of war, “Would you like one?”

Michelle stared at the box for all of two second before replying, “Sure. I love blueberry.”

Thor’s jovial laugh filled her ears and she soon found herself sitting with him, finishing the box and sharing stories. She quickly steered him from his tales of valor toward Asgardian politics and economics (he was a prince, after all) and found herself telling exciting stories of historic earth battles as best she could (history was one of her strong points).

The mythical man wasn’t all that strange, really, she mused as Thor spoke.

…

The fifth time Michelle met an Avenger, she met Captain America and the Falcon together. By now they had already heard of Peter’s two friends who were visiting for a weekend, so she didn’t get the skeptic treatment, but she did get treated to two soldiers in uniform. In his uniform, Steve Rogers looked almost exactly like the pictures from her history book – the costume was a bit different now. He did look exactly like he did in the PSAs though, right down to the look he gave her when he first saw her. So much was that obvious, that she couldn’t resist the temptation.

“Hey, I know you.” She said simply, pointing to the old soldier with a half-smile, “You’re the PSA guy.”

It was so satisfying to see the Captain America redden under her scrutiny. More satisfying than tricking Peter into admitting he was Spider-Man, more satisfying than acing her last French test, more satisfying even than beating Ned at Trivial Pursuit: Star Wars™ Edition.

Sam Wilson’s bewildered look made the comment all the sweeter, because enlightened Michelle to the fact the he did not know.

“PSA guy?” Sam turned to Steve, who was giving the floor an awkward-yet-still-award-winning smile, “What does that mean?”

Michelle replied before Steve could, bringing out her best Captain America voice, “Hey kids, I’m Captain America, and I’m here to talk to you about bullies. A bully is someone who regularly harms or intimidates those weaker than them. Maybe they think its cool, but take it from someone who was frozen for seventy years – it’s really cool to follow the rules—”

“Jeez, do you have the whole thing memorized?” the relic said through an embarrassed chuckle. He then straightened up, looking at her with a stern face that reminds her that she’s staring at a World War II captain, “Are you a bully? You know, the nazis were bullies, too. It’s why I had to beat them up. Don’t be a nazi – be cool, like me, Captain America.”

Michelle snickered at the line, which Steve had pulled directly from that same PSA. Sam looked back and forth between the two, bemusement slowly fading to amusement. “What are you two talking about?”

“I recorded some PSAs a few years ago.”

“They show them in schools. They’ve become a meme.”

Sam nodded, “I’ve got to see that.”

“They’re all on Youtube.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

…

“This is her?” Tony Stark queried, his eyes staring into Michelle’s eyes as if judging her every being. He was leaning on the counter of the Avengers’ kitchen, looking too casual in his jeans and a band tee, sipping coffee from a mug that says “#1 Avenger.”

“Yeah,” her boyfriend answered, licking his lips. Peter was standing beside Tony and doing that awkward shuffle that betrayed his nervousness. He kept glancing between Michelle and Tony as if one was going to combust at any moment.

She was stood across from Tony, her stomach flipping and flopping while the man calmly took another sip, so she figured it would probably be her in the flames.

The sixth time she met an honest-to-god Avenger was the time Peter Parker introduced her to Tony Stark; and seeing how the genius was basically her boyfriend’s father-figure these days, Michelle decided he was the most important, too.

She wished she could see her own face in that moment, so she could at least know what kind of expression she was making at Tony. From his solemn stare, she couldn’t be sure what he was feeling. Michelle prided herself on her observational skills, but there wasn’t much to observe other than the billionaire’s eyes that refused to blink.

“She’s cute. Good job.” He turned abruptly and clapped his free hand onto Peter’s shoulder.

Both teens practically exploded at the impact, from the way their held breaths left their bodies. Smiling tentatively at her, Peter moved closer, but was interrupted by Tony saying, “Hey, Pete. Why don’t you go get that other guy? I still wanna talk to him about how he hacked your suit.”

It seemed to Michelle that it was a subtle way of saying “Don’t make out in front of me, please.” But Peter didn’t seem to catch on when he obediently left without taking her.

Now she was alone with her boyfriend’s might-as-well-be father, who happened to be a famous billionaire philanthropist.

“I honestly didn’t think he could do romance. He seems too awkward.” He said suddenly.

Michelle replied honestly, glancing at the doorway Peter had used, “He’s still really bad at it, but I am too, so…” She trailed off.

“Ah, so you’re like that.” He laughed into the mug.

She looked to her feet and began scuffing her shoe against the linoleum tiles of the kitchen, “Yeah. I don’t mind it, though. And I don’t think he does either.”

“Oh, not at all.” He responded flippantly, and though she wasn’t looking at him she could tell he waved a hand, “He’s always talking about how cool you are. I thought you’d be out of his league.”

The words came out like a reflex, “Yeah, he’s lame like that.” And she almost jerked her head up to stare at him wide-eyed.

His laugh kept her eyes aimed down, though. “So,” He asks next, “Do you know about his internship?”

She did glance up at that, but her gaze only made it to his chest where an arc reactor clung to his shirt – Peter had said it housed nano-tech – and she answered with a question, “You mean the Spider-Man thing?”

“You do know. That’s good,” Tony decided, “It means he doesn’t have to make up dumb excuses when he’s late to dates.”

“Yeah, he’s really bad at that.” She managed a shaky laugh and finally met his eyes again only to see how amused he was. She blinked, and suddenly she was standing straighter, almost indignant.

“Oh?” He asked, noticing the change immediately, “Are you done being awkward now? Can we have an actual conversation? I heard from the others that you didn’t even react to them.” he smiled when she replied by flipping him off. “That’s it, relax, kid. I already gave you my blessing, not that he’d listen to me anyway. Why am I the one to get you all nervous? Thor’s an actual god, you know.” He said it mockingly, without any real reverence, as he takes a sip from his mug.

She almost said something about how much she liked Peter or something about how important Tony’s opinion of her was because Peter thought the world of him. Tony had said Peter wouldn’t listen, but she knew it would still make things weird.

But she said none of that. Instead she said, “It’s because rich white men are the scariest thing in the world.”

He choked.

32 notes · View notes

twistednuns · 5 years

Text

June 2019

“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving.”

A (very) sunny day in London. Seeing a seal in the Thames, right under the Tower Bridge. Walking through St. James’s Park, eating ice-cream. Taking a beautiful picture of Laura in Covent Garden. Finally getting out of the underground. A tiny rainbow reflection in the sky over Greenwich.

Playing badminton in the evening with Frank. Sitting by the river, making new friends (duckies).

Micha. Meeting in Thalkirchen after I had just seen a half dead mouse. Walking along the river, finding a nice spot across from the zoo with a bunch of musical hippies playing the drums on the other bank. We got drunk on Toro Loco and Grasovka in ice hockey cups until he kissed me in the middle of a sentence. It took quite a while until I noticed I was just kissing my first man with a tongue piercing. At some point I re-erected a knocked over portable toilet (does drunk me have superhuman powers?) and we walked to the subway together. Such a gentle weirdo.

Making breakfast for someone other than me. Sharing an apple. Eating out of the same bowl.

IKEA has veggie hot dogs now. Excellent. I also got a new cutting board. And that’s ALL I got. I’m virtually patting myself on the shoulder right now.

Christoph and Lauren’s wedding was pretty chill. We squeezed into a car, went up a very steep hill to attend the ceremony and spent the rest of the day around a camp fire drinking gin and tonics or dancing to very bad music. I loved getting to know Michael’s boyfriend of 4 years. I always received gay vibes from him… good to know that my gaydar isn’t broken.

Taking polaroid pictures in the beautiful afternoon light. I also loved Christian’s outtakes of the theme music quiz. One of them honestly looks as if I’d just won a beauty pageant - we have a host, two ladies with jealous side glances and me, all excited, open mouth, in front of the mic, waiting for her tiara…

Spending a few hours in my mum’s garden. Doing dangerous yoga exercises in the grass. Walking barefoot. Marveling at the lush roses everywhere. Watching a blackbird taking a bath under the cherry tree. Very entertaining.

I want to learn Spanish and this video gives me hope - apparently I can heavily rely on my French vocabulary.

Why the men I like usually look the same.

Hanging out with Martina, Tobi and Diego the dog at the Thalkirchen campsite. Watching the rafts go by (horrible music), driving them home with their car right before the apocalyptic thunderstorm.

The perfect dessert: berries or peaches with fresh cream. The perfect dinner: Truffle pasta.

The concept of eclecticism.

Spending the afternoon with Franzi at Maria Einsiedel. Meeting baby Elise for the first time. Hopping into the Eiskanal, turning my body into a freezer for five minutes. Eating tiny lemon ice-cream and galia melon.

Meeting Catrin and Andreas at Brillengalerie in Altheim. Really good cappuccino (he’s an optician AND a latte artist). I loved trying on those gorgeous glasses and talking to Catrin about the Latte Art championships and rude customers.

Our trip to the Bavarian Forest to make a cake tree for the wedding. We visited Lena’s uncle who turned a tree trunk into a three-tiered cake stand with his chainsaw. We helped. I really want to get a chainsaw license now.

Once again: roses. They are incredibly lush this year. I don’t know why exactly but climate change seems to have one tiny upside.

Drawing. Portrait practice. Filling my sketchbook from idee. Polychromos coloured pencils.

Using Instagram’s story feature for the first time. I love editing pictures and adding gifs and colours. Immature and tacky but fun.

Looking trough old analogue pictures. Finding lots of my dad looking like the perfect Millennial. 90s fashion really IS back. I still loathe fanny packs though.

I found someone who’s coming to India with me!! I’m going to travel with Bibi this summer. So excited!

Unfortunately: the Solitaire app on my phone. Unhealthy obsession. You know you’ve got a problem when you’re getting REALLY good…

The smell of dill pickles reminds evokes vivid memories of my grandma. She used to make them herself, in heavy stoneware next to the wash room in the cellar.

Spending the evening with Bibi at Kulturdachgarten (having Ginger Spritz as a sundowner in the late afternoon sun), eating Israeli mezze at NANA in Haidhausen and seeing Rocketman at Rio cinema. My colleague works there so we got discount tickets and free ice-cream. Taron Egerton is a fabulous actor. If I had to describe the film in one word it’d be flamboyant. Also, I’d have loved to be the costume designer for this.

Iglo veggie love frozen meals. With Hela curry ketchup. Nom.

Extremely cute new rockery plants (who will have to do with regular potting soil I’m afraid).

Meeting Andre at Thalkirchen. Spending the evening on an Isar gravel bank, drinking the beer Martina brought from Croatia. Joining the… eh, what’s the Mile High Club for people who prefer water to air travel? Catching the last train home. Taking dinky photobooth pictures because we still had ten minutes to spare. That fake photo strip makes me happy instantly whenever I look at it.

Getting better at asking for what I want.

The character Moe in the Netflix series Trinkets. To me, she’s so much more attractive than Tabitha. And I love her attitude. And her hookup in episode seven. What a pretty man.

Manu making me realise how much I look like my dad. “At least jawwise!”

Spending the evening with Tom. Pre-theatre Spritz, Melancholia at Kammerspiele, Isar-beer near Müllersches Volksbad. Talking about our insights and issues.

It’s fascinating to see the lupin in front of my balcony door open it’s blossoms gradually from bottom to top. This plant has such an interesting structure and geometry.

Salad season. Somehow I only like salads in the summer but then I eat them passionately. With strawberries, Black Forest tofu, peaches, blueberries, mangoes, olives. Those nice, firm Roma tomatoes you only get during the summer months. I made a huge bowl of Tabouleh the other day and had it for breakfast, lunch an dinner.

Going home in the morning, smelling of another person.

Booking flights to India. 5 weeks. I’ve never been gone for so long and then I chose India of all places… I feel a mild panic attack coming but I’m also super excited.

Artificial cherry flavour.

A day trip with Lexi. She brought crisps and a fun Mexican dice game which we played on the train. Spending the whole afternoon soaking in the warm water at Therme Bad Aibling. Discovering the amazing acoustics in the various domes. Making a new duckie friend. Weird mirror selfies with hairdryers. Dinner at a Bavarian restaurant in Rosenheim. Teaching le Sash some obscure Bavarian words.

The word obscure, come to think of it. Uncanny is a close second.

Jupiter being so bright in the night sky. I always notice it first as soon as it’s dark.

Librarians are secretly the funnest people alive.

So many things, really. I’m feeling quite happy at the moment. My only problem is that I keep gaining weight. Somehow enjoying myself is adverse to the strict regime I need in order to stay perfectly healthy.

Random things: Schweppes Fruity citrus and orange lemonade. Tomato sandwiches with fresh basil on olive ciabatta. That squirrel running over the garage roof in the morning. Dreaming of ferry rides through US rivers. And intercourse with a panther. The Garner Ambre Soleil natural bronzer spray with coconut oil. Nice colour, good smell, minimal chipmunk effect. And of course me regular Garnier sun oil. It’s the bottled essence of summer.

Filling in for someone in the Natural 20s pub quiz team. Being invited to a pen and paper round with feline characters only. Meeting Sophia who, I realised later, played Rosencrantz (or Guildenstern?) at Entity Theatre’s production of Hamlet last year.

My complete and utter obsession with Phil Collins’ version of You Can’t Hurry Love. I think it’s going to be my next karaoke song.

A desire and drive to be creative. Making collages out of dried leftover paint. Drawing on the window panes. Getting out gouache, pastel chalks, oil pastels, those weird 3-in-1 coloured pencils which create such a nice texture. Drawing first thing in the morning. Spending hours drawing owls for the coffee roasters. Using coloured pencils to draw portraits of all the cool girls of Instagram.

Oh, speaking of art. I don’t want to jinx it but I might get the chance to write a book soon! I met an editor who works at a publishing house for lifestyle books and needs someone to make a book about portrait drawing/painting for her. So. Excited. They’re also looking for a trainee in the graphic design department. I really hope I get to collaborate with them in one way or another.

Cute summer outfits. Good colour combinations. Accessorizing. Wearing pretty clothes with a creative twist. Actually putting some thought into putting together an outfit can be a lot of fun. After all it’s just another way of making a collage.

Polarized sunglasses providing me with the bluest skies and rainbow-tinted tram windows.

The Croatian man who sat down next to a visibly pregnant Bavarian woman on the subway and started telling her about his daughter Persephone and the abduction myth connected with her. I keep reading and hearing about Demeter and Persephone lately, for example about Baubo and the vulva presentations / Demeter worship.

Carmen Rohrbach’s Unterwegs sein ist mein Leben. I was very impressed by how much she has seen and experienced. How much she knows about nature and animals. I mean, she’s a biologist, too. Reading this book made my days a little more special because it gave me a sense of how much more there is to discover on this planet.

Eating vegan ice-cream (pumpkin seed and ginger-turmeric) with Micha. Sitting on the balustrade in front of the Art Academy. Staring into these insanely pretty blue eyes all the time. Looking for the toilets, roaming through the hallways. I love the architecture of that building.

A ladybug escaping the subway train through an open door. Freedom!

I love how the characters resemble each other so much in the different generations in the TV-series Dark. Uncanny. And they feature very nice colour contrasts, too. I guess I like their production designer / cinematographer.

Late-night Isar strolls. Drinking red wine, lying down, watching the stars surrounded by fireflies! (which are quite rare where I live so I was lucky - the strangest thing is that I had drawn a firefly into my sketchbook earlier that day, feels like I manifested it)

Tollwood gin and tonics, forgetting to go home, ending up in a gay club at 3am. Nice Thursday.

Making up for the lack of sleep on Friday afternoon. Waking up late. Releasing my inner Julia Child at 2am by making sushi rolls, taboulé and Bergsteigerbrot, something like super tasty vegan granola bars with lots of nuts and honey.

A little bike tour with Frank along the river. Pseudo-meditating on a log, eating some snacks I brought. Floating with the current. His alliterations (“further fodder for future followers”).

#personal #present perfect #things i love #june #2019 #june 2019

0 notes

laurlovescookies · 7 years

Text

Kadam Week Prompt Seven: A Stressful Event

- One of the guys is stressing out over a pending event. (Parental visit, audition, work deadline, whatever you like as long as it causes a freak out.) How does the other get him through it? Or help him him celebrate getting through it?

Adam and Kurt are pleasantly surprised when the New Directions throw them a shower for their first child. Not really stressful, mostly just silly. A lot of Blaine and Rachel bashing though.

Sorry this is so late! Work’s been keeping me busy. This fic takes place eight years after Kadam meet in New York.

You guys might notice that Tina here (unlike Rachel or Blaine) has been redeemed. Up until season four I don’t think anyone minded her; she was a cool, artistic, easy-going person whom was great friends with Kurt and had a wardrobe you’d like to pillage. Understandably she gets upset with the lack of spotlight she gets in Glee; something that made me sad was the fact that she was treated as a token Asian character, a background prop, a sort of “Oh, aren’t we diverse and inclusive for including a Chinese American character despite the fact the spotlight always focuses on a straight white couple in some way or another.”

The fact that she lied about her stutter made her seem very human to me; people will do anything to fit in or seem endearing, even if that involves participating in their own denigration.

Season four absolutely murdered Tina and turned her into a character impossible to like. I was so sad; where was my positive representation? Honestly, bitch!Tina seemed to be the result of the writers saying, “Welp, all these strong personalities are graduating from McKinley, so we’ll need someone to be the new boss bad bitch.” The result was that Tina became a sort of Santana/Rachel hybrid, which is awful and felt forced in any case, like giving a bunny a flamethrower. And her obsession with Blaine? Ew.

So, in this verse I’m going to say that Tina became older and wiser; for better or for worse she’s capable of change. (This time better!) However, Rachel and Blaine usually only change after re-learning the same lessons over and over again, and by the next episode they’re back to themselves. So, no character redemption there, sorry.

Rant over. Let’s get going!

-O-

Kurt and Adam ought to have known something was rotten in the state of New York when Mercedes casually requested heading to their apartment for coffee after lunch earlier that afternoon. After all, the young diva dropped by unannounced virtually every night for dinner, amused at Adam feeding her two or three helpings of food before dessert, and less so by Kurt’s insistence on making her probiotic protein shakes that were as healthy as they were awful.

The Hummel-Crawfords knew she was humoring them and were grateful; after all, at eight months Mercedes’ belly ballooned out, making her back ache and it difficult for her to walk comfortably. Guilty even though Mercedes assured them she knew what she’d been signing up for (more or less), Kurt and Adam felt better doting over her, massaging her back, making ice cream runs, or watching old musicals together. Mercedes certainly didn’t object, knew she wouldn’t be refused anything. She didn’t have to ask.

Looking back, Adam thought he’d seen Mercedes quickly compose flashes of secret smiles, dark eyes knowing.

As Kurt unlocked the door, there’d been near-cataclysmic screams of “SURPRISE!” that had nearly sent a startled Kurt reeling back into the hall, and while Mercedes roared with laughter Adam looked on in amazement as Kurt’s old Glee club friends rushed to meet them. He grinned broadly and laughed himself in the flurry of handshakes and hugs; for better or for worse, Kurt’s friends were never boring.

The room was carpeted with balloons and streamers, and there was an enormous, pram-shaped cake waiting on the coffee room table next to a sea of wrapped packages. Flushed and beaming, Kurt wiped his eyes as he stooped to embrace the small children clamoring for his attention—Emmanuelle and Israel, known as Emmy and Izzy. “Oh dear God. It’s a glee-union.”

“We couldn’t let the opportunity to throw you a party pass,” said Quinn, looking pleased as the children sidled next to their mother, eying the cake hopefully.

“You mean you couldn’t pass up an excuse to come to New York.”

Quinn’s pale eyes twinkled with amusement. “I thought they were one and the same. You’ll find a picture of New York skyscrapers in a dictionary underneath the word party—I know these things, I’m a lawyer. And it was the least I could do; you two must’ve felt you’d fallen off the world when you came to the twins’ shower in Vermont.”

“More or less. Good ice cream, though.”

Israel had wandered to sit on the sofa in-between Mike and his girlfriend Marley. Lieutenant Colonel (Kurt still thought it bizarre to think of him that way) cast a reproving smile at his son, quipping a brow.

“Son, remember the bus? What do you do when you see a pregnant lady?”

Izzy’s eyes widened. “Oh.” He clamored off the sofa and timidly approached Mercedes, holding out a hand. “Excuse me ma’am. You can have my seat.”

“Oh! Thank you, baby angel boy.”

Kurt shook his head in silent wonder as Izzy lead Mercedes to the sofa, the woman sighing in relief as she settled down. Puck looked pleased.

“And why do we remember to be nice to ladies, especially pregnant ones?”

“Because chicks dig manners.”

Quinn punched Puck in the arm as everyone laughed. Kurt chuckled as he and Adam sank onto love seats. “You really had me going there for a second, Puck. Still a far cry from the guy whom used to throw me into dumpsters.”

“Yeah well, the chain stops and ends with blah-blah-Oprah-spiel blah.”

Eyes shining, Kurt slipped his hand in Adam’s as he looked around the room. How different a time from high school and yet there was still so much the same: Santana was leaning against the wall trying to look bored and instead just looking amused. She released several duo hits with Mercedes before deciding she preferred more behind-the-scene action, and was now an A-list publicist whom received a metric grip of letters a month requesting her services. Beside her was her wife Brittany, in dead-serious conversation with Emmy over proper feeding and care of unicorns. Brittany starred in a children’s show filled with puppets (whom Brittany believed were alive) dedicated to teaching children physics and collegiate equations. Not far away was her own child Luz, whom was peeking into tissue-stuffed gift bags to see if anything of interest was there.

Not far away Artie was cooing to his bleary-eyed baby Stephen on one knee, and his live-in girlfriend Tina perched on the other. Tina had starred in several of her husband’s films, but recently turned her attention to developing her own line of steampunk clothing, costume jewelry and cosmetics. Kurt smiled as she grinned and waved; they loved the finer points of fashion together and had rekindled their friendship from far away. It hadn’t been so difficult as he’d feared; Tina was no longer the callous person she was her last year in high school. It helped that even Tina was no longer really speaking to…

He moved on; Sam was leaning behind the couch and was kissing a giggling Mercedes on the cheek; they were on-off-on-off-on-for-ten-months-steady now. Kurt felt a pang of gratitude that Sam had been so accepting of Mercedes’ decision to be his and Adam’s birth mother, though he wanted children of his own…

He tasted his heart in his throat when he looked on an empty seat that ought to have been Finn’s, the young man brightly eager to meet his niece or nephew. No one had sat in it and perhaps thought the same thing…

Rachel and Blaine were also conspicuous by their absence, but in this case it was the better alternative. He’d come to appreciate cutting himself off from toxic people, even in the painful circumstance that they loved you. Or believed they did.

But everyone else remained. Them and the best person he’d ever known.

Adam looked down at him as he rested his head against his shoulder, so filled with quiet happiness he would be content never leaving this moment, save to meet the baby…

“Okay, pound puppy, enough with the misty eyes,” Santana drawled, whom threw a box in their direction; Adam only just managed to keep it slipping from his fingertips. “Didn’t come all this way for your boohoo.”

“We live in the same building.”

“Your point being?”

“We were going to throw you a gender-revealing party,” said Brittany, whom by now was sitting with Emmy in her lap. “The kind where you cut open a cake and everyone waits to see either pink or blue.” Suddenly she looked troubled. “But we didn’t know the gender. The cake is blueberry-flavored, but it came out purple on the inside. Did I make an inter-sex baby?”

“Well, at birth we’ll only know the baby’s sex, not gender identity,” reasoned Adam, pressing his head against Kurt’s. “It’s not like the baby will come out waving a blue and pink flag, or even a rainbow one.”

“Considering the amount of gay energy you and Prancy Smurf exude, it wouldn’t surprise me,” said Santana loftily as Kurt tentatively turned over her gift as if there might be a bomb inside it.

“I wish you’da let us know what the sex is,” piped up Artie. “Tina couldn’t decide what kind of clothes to make, so she wound up making a mini David Bowie-esque wardrobe.”

“Hey! Now I’m gonna tell them you got the baby hardcore rap music!”

“We already know the baby’s going to be intersex,” said Brittany patiently. “The cake says so.”

“Bae, the cake doesn’t get to decide whether the baby’s a chick or has a dick.”

“But cake doesn’t lie. And while we’re talking about presents, my gift comes from Lord Tubbington the third,” said Brittany proudly. “The gift of being allowed to see dead people.”

A pause. “And how did that come about, Brittany?” Asked Kurt, as if he were talking to a three-year-old.

“Easy. He waved his tail, like how the three good fairies waved their wands for Princess Aurora. Now when the baby comes, he’ll be able to see all the dead people.” She looked very proud. “Not some. All.”

“Excellent.” Said Adam gracefully. “What a good gift. I’ll be sure to send the cat a thank-you note.”

“Did the gift come with a receipt?” Kurt complained. “Can you give my baby the gift of song instead?”

“Baby boy, the kid already has the gift of song,” Mercedes griped, looking indignant. “I’m the baby momma, and you two are gonna be singing in this kid’s face like a nonstop musical.”

“That sounds like hell,” said Puck, looking disturbed. “I actually included both pink and blue hair dye for the kid once she/he wants a faux hawk.”

“We appreciate our share of the favor,” said Adam with a smile, before Kurt could object. For the sake of his sanity he’d learned long ago to not ask too many questions amidst the New Directions. He felt a bit wistful that he wound up meeting them so much later on, and felt genuinely privileged to sit with these fine lunatics. “But we didn’t want to inundate the baby in blue or pink, which is what surely would’ve happened had we found out.”

“These posers don’t want to know.” Complained Mercedes as Quinn poured her a glass of lemonade. “And I know that if I knew the sex, I’d want to spill my guts to someone here. And sooner or later it’d make its way back to them.”

“Why worry? It’s not like Rachel’s here,” Puck pointed out. Not a second later he looked sheepish.

Everyone stiffened a bit at that. Kurt briefly flicked his eyes to the ceiling, and Adam sighed.

“So!” said Marley cheerfully, nonetheless sounding strained. “Um, how’s she doing, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Not good,” said Brittany vaguely. She was the only member of New Directions whom occasionally spoke to Rachel, mainly because she was too kind to hold a grudge. Or too forgetful; no one was sure which. She twisted a blond curl between her fingertips. “She and Blaine are getting divorced. It’ll be in all the supermarket magazines soon.”

“Pay up,” said Puck to Artie, whom rolled his eyes and began digging for his wallet. Tina looked affronted. “You couldn’t have told us that earlier?”

“No. Because it’s Adam’s day and Kurt’s day and baby intersex’s day.”

“Thanks, lovely,” said Kurt gratefully.

“Blaine wanted to come today,” muttered Sam. “This time I told him no.”

Everyone looked at him; he shrugged uncomfortably. “Normally, I’d…but, well…he’s…”

“Just say it,” Santana snapped impatiently. “Everyone knows the hobbit whom likes hiding cake in his socks would keep things lively, but I don’t need to get blood all over these walls up here in this bitch.”

“Damn straight you won’t. I just had them painted.

“Remember last time?” said Mike, looking pained.

“Of course we remember last time. Who needs to call the cops during a kid’s christening?” Mercedes demanded.

“I don’t condone violence normally anymore, but I made an exception for him,” said Puck, cracking his knuckles. “I’m just so relieved the church had a quality brand dumpster ready. My only regret is that the truck wasn’t on its way to take it to the dump.”

“Puck.”

“What? Dude, I promised your brother on his deathbed—“ A shadow passed over Puck’s eyes “—that I’d beat the crap outta anyone who’d try making you sad. And I owe you for all those years I tossed you in the scrap.”

“…um, thanks, Puck. That’s sweet and violent at the same time.”

“People say the same about me, funnily enough,” said Santana loftily. “Although they usually omit the ‘sweet’ part.”

“I thought at least Rachel would come, though,” said Quinn softly, chin in hand. “But she said she was sick.”

“’Sick’ is Rachel Berry code for ‘I’m on a yacht near some leprosy island somewhere.’ You saw the tabloids.”

“But we all came for The Stud Muffin.” Said Tina sadly. “For her and Blaine.”

“I wish we hadn’t. I cried for the hour and a half of my life I’ll never get back,” scoffed Puck. “Thank God my man Adam faked an allergic reaction to the food at the after party.” Adam had just been passed a beer, and now raised it in Puck’s direction.

“I thought the movie was maybe intentionally bad,” said Artie with a frown. “Some kind of advent-garde social statement?”

“The only statement baby girl over here got was that there are better things to do with your time than watch Stud Muffin. Like cut yourself.”

“And that includes hanging out with those two, especially considering they only come when they need a shoulder to cry on.”

“Or someone to mooch on for over a year,” said Sam wearily.

“People grow apart,” Tina said, looking uncomfortable. Doubtful even. “It’s just…” She shook her head. “I just don’t even recognize him anymore. And it’s not the weight, that’s just…whatever, but c’mon, it’s a high school romance. He needs to let Kurt go.”

“Can we please not—“

“Do you know what kind of freaks we are, that most of us wound up getting married to our high school sweethearts? It’s like we went to musical Hogwarts.”

“Not Kurt, though,” said Artie as he stuffed a fistful of dollars into Puck’s waiting hand. “He had the nerve to marry outside our big, happy, incestuous family. I think everyone here has slept with someone here at this point but Kadam.”

Adam pressed a fist against his mouth but couldn’t conceal the laugh. Kurt looked as if the soul had been sucked out of him.

“Do you have to keep calling us that?”

“Why not? It’s cute.”

“I ship Kadam,” said Adam as he started cutting pieces of cake for the restless children. Luz wound up pushing Izzy to the side once Adam cut a corner slice with a flower on it. Britney had donated the egg and Mike the sperm, but Santana had been Luz’s surrogate. And she had Santana’s blood running through her veins. Kurt flicked him.

“No. Not you too!”

“Adam was already in show choir,” said Brittany slowly. “So that makes him our cousin, basically.” She patted his hand. “Don’t worry, Adam. You’re marrying a relative too.”

“Well, hooray for incest,” said Adam graciously, which wasn’t something he’d ever imagined he’d say.

“Can we get to opening presents already?” Mercedes whined. Kurt prepared to rip the paper off his box, but Mike spoke up, sounding dazed:

“Are Blaine and Rachel really getting divorced?”

“Well, twinkle-toes, I hate to break this to you, but Blainers is gay, and Rachel is straight. One of these things is not like the others…”

“I know, it’s just…it just seems like yesterday they were sending those flowery invites. The weird ones with the entwined male and female sex symbols?”

“Incidentally, changing your décor won’t change your sexuality.”

“I’ve tried,” said Kurt sadly.

“I’m glad it failed,” said Adam smoothly.

“Get a room,” Mike muttered.

Adam’s blue eyes twinkled mischievously. “Welllll, our room is next door—“ Kurt shoved him.

“I feel bad for them,” murmured Brittany. “They must’ve felt all alone in the world. That’s why they got married. Lord Tubbington’s the same way; that’s why he now has alimony payments to his fourth wife.”

“And we all went to the wedding, regardless if we…sort of fell apart along the way.” Said Artie, sighing. “Sam tried talking to him, we all tried talking to him, but we couldn’t persuade him otherwise.”

“Kind of what happens when someone marries someone out of pure spite,” said Santana quietly. Kurt wished with all his heart they’d let this go; all of the pastel-colored boxes were cute. “Even I wouldn’t sink that low.”

Marley looked thoughtful. “I remember during the rehearsal dinner Blaine kept talking over and over again about how happy he was. It was a little emphatic.” Her brow furrowed. “Because he kept looking over at our table and repeating it.”

“I don’t remember,” said Kurt dismissively. “Adam was showing me a funny video on his phone under the table.”

“Oh, so that’s what you guys were doing,” Tina purred, winking at a mortified-looking Kurt. “I thought…”

“There are children in the room!”

“You know, something we never told the ladies here is that while the groomsmen were getting ready in the hotel room, Blaine staggered in and begged Kurt to take him back.”

Mercedes, Rachel, Tina, Brittany and Santana inhaled the same breath at the same time. Kurt sighed again.

“I’m sure he didn’t actually mean it. He was drunk, and he’s not in love with me—just the idea of being young, full of potential, and not a complete…” He made a vague wave motion with his hand.

“Douche canoe?” Santana offered, accepting a slice of cake.

“Caution: Children.”

“Caution: My daughter hears a lot spicier words from her abuela,” said Santana sweetly.

“Well, I think he did want you back, considering he fell to his knees, buried his face in your suit, and bawled…that was before Adam socked him.”

Adam turned red. Mercedes looked intrigued.

“I thought that black eye came from…what did Blaine say it was from?”

“Falling down the stairs and somehow blacking his eye on the way.”

“Well, well, well, looks like Sir I’m-Such-A-Well-Mannered-Englishman has some teeth after all,” said Santana, lip curling.

“I felt like I achieved the American dream that day,” said Adam, and the room burst into applause. Puck nodded appreciatively.

“I’ll get you a medal.”

“And after Kurt and Adam escaped out the window, Blaine got up and said he didn’t mean any of it, that he still loved Rachel,” said Sam softly. “And was just playing a late joke. None of us thought it was funny. I didn’t want to watch him do this to himself, but I thought…I’d at least stay through the ceremony before leaving. If only for in memory of what we used to have.”

“I stayed for booze and free food,” said Puck. “And to toss Blaine into another dumpster on my way out.”

“Was that really necessary?”

“Oh, come on. That was a fancy-ass dumpster filled with caviar, or some crap. He ought to have been flattered.”

“We might be here for awhile,” Kurt whispered in Adam’s ear, sounding annoyed, but affectionately so. Adam kissed him on the cheek and hummed.

The upside to Kurt’s friends visiting was that cable television was rendered completely unnecessary.

-O-

#kadam week 2017 #kadam fanfic #kadam #kurt hummel #adam crawford

17 notes · View notes