adam crawford

Why Amelie is a Great Musical
  • It has beautiful songs 
  • it’s fun and quirky 
  • maintains a childlike overall tone while also still having a bit of adult humour
  • there’s a fish named Fluffy 
  • Said fish is a tall bearded man who dances around with a fish puppet on his head 
  • it’s colourful 
  • Sets are gorgeous 
  • there’s a lovestory between a Gnome and an airline stewardess 
  • There’s a whole Elton John number 
  • FIGGS 
  • It’s a perfect love story that makes you feel good inside
  • Every character is lovable 
  • Savvy Crawford is absolutely adorable
  • The choreography and staging is lovely
  • You never want it to end

Glee Klaine AU__   Looking for: Mon Chéri

“Looking for: Mon Chéri” is a new reality TV show created to help Kurt finding a boyfriend. Three single and good looking men are opposed to try and win his heart. The contenders are: the British Adam, the Badass Elliott and the Sweet Blaine. The guys have to perform in front of Kurt and then go out on individual dates (movie theatre, coffee date and homemade dinner).

Adam and Elliott try too hard to impress Kurt with extravagant shows and self centered conversations but Blaine remains himself. Kurt is struck by his moving performance and his expressive eyes.

These are the reasons why eventually Kurt chooses Blaine.

what celebrity would be your best match
  • Aries: Chris Evans
  • Taurus: Chance Crawford
  • Gemini: James Franco
  • Cancer: Channing Tatum
  • Leo: Zac Efron
  • Virgo: Liam Hemsworth
  • Libra: Andrew Garfield
  • Scorpio: Adam Levine
  • Sagittarius: Taylor Lautner
  • Capricorn: Dylan O'Brien
  • Aquarius: Theo James
  • Pisces: Leonardo DiCaprio
Glee Kadam Fic: It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Kadam Week Prompt II

Kurt sings while he repairs a car, unaware that Adam is watching him. The song referenced in this fic is “Hallelujah” by Jeff Buckley.

“You’re an angel, saint, and a bag of chips, Kurt.”

Smiling broadly, Kurt waved him off as he set his toolbox down on the curb.

“Not a problem, Silo. It’s not like the Apples don’t make you drive everyone’s props and costumes over time and creation.”

“Damn straight.”

“Damn not-straight.” The two young men chuckled. Kurt looked under the popped hood and hummed thoughtfully.

“I still think this will be an easy enough fix. But I’m glad you waited to visit a mechanic here in the city— they’d charge you three times the amount my dad would. And what’s worse is that more likely than not they wouldn’t even do a great job—enough to get you going, but poorly enough to have you crawling back.”

“That’s evil,” Silo said wonderingly, giving the engine a baffled look.  

“That’s business,” Kurt said briskly, rolling up his sleeves. “If you give me…maybe a little over or under an hour, I can have it fixed.”

“How much do I owe you?”


“What? No,” Silo protested immediately, looking panicked. “Kurt, it’s a car repair. I have to pay you a little.”

“You’re a broke-ass art student,” Kurt chided, though his eyes were glinting with gentle amusement. “Whom we more or less force to carry all of our crap around at all these events like a packhorse. I won’t charge you.”

When Silo hesitated again, Kurt asked, “Buuuut if you want to pay me back, would you mind covering for Adam and lead the next AA meeting?”

“Hello everyone. I’m Silo,” said Silo in a deadpan tone.

“Hi Silo.”

They both burst out laughing and Adam couldn’t help but smile ruefully himself from where he watched several feet away. The initials for Adam’s Apples were admittedly a little unfortunate.

Kurt wiped his eyes. “He’s got finals soon and judging by how hard he’s been working, seems to be attempting suicide by-proxy. If you could lead a meeting or two, I can’t tell you how much I’d appreciate it.”

Silo grinned and gave him a thumbs-up, looking profoundly relieved. “Of course. I was going to offer anyway since I just finished for the semester.” His smile broadened and he briefly looked away, cheeks pinking just a bit. “Tori told me how you brought back her baby Michelle back from the dead. I don’t know if you can save Perry—“

“I promise you Perry is in good hands. By the way, is Perry a boy or girl car?”

“Oh, definitely a boy. I only ever ride men.” Silo started chuckling when Kurt looked away, visibly blushing. Shaking his head, Silo said wonderingly, “Geez, Adam is lucky to have you. He found himself a man whom can service a car and belt a high e. Any chance you have a brother?”

Adam winced a bit at that, nearly dropping two coffees. Kurt did not turn, so he could not guess the younger’s man’s expression.

“Thanks Si. Did you need to be going?”

Silo immediately checked his watch and started.

“Crap, my shift starts in ten. If there’s any problem—“

“There won’t be—“

“—just call and let me know. And bring over Adam tonight before closing; I’m happy to give you guys cheap food and booze under the bar.”

Adam thought he could hear Kurt smile faintly. “Sounds good to me. Have a good shift.”

Silo waved as he raced off around the corner. Kurt watched him go, and then got to work over the beloved rustbucket the apples teasingly referred to as the apple automobile. Adam watched him for a few long moments, knowing he was being stupid and yet thoroughly enjoying watching Kurt in an element that seemed every bit as natural to him as Apple rehearsal. He remained quiet, not wanting to make his boyfriend self-conscious.

It wasn’t long before Kurt started singing (it never was) as he worked, voice and his hands exceedingly gentle. Adam continued watching him, brow furrowing as he recognized the tune, which was un-Kurtlike to a near extreme:

“Well I heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
Well it goes like this: the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah….”

Kurt scrubbed at his eyes with his upper forearm. Were the car fumes stinging him? His voice dropped softly as he sang the refrain.

Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah.”

Several long moments passed as Kurt continued singing. And to Adam’s surprise Kurt’s voice was reaching a painfully soft, piercing register he’d only ever heard his boyfriend reach a few times before—such as his debut at the NYADA winter showcase. Adam’s throat tightened, mouth drying as it had that night, when Kurt threw his heart at the audience’s feet.

“Baby I’ve been here before
I’ve seen this room and I’ve walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
And I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
And love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallel—“

Kurt’s normally strong voice abruptly cut off. His back stiffened, and he stooped over the engine, immobile for a long moment.

Hallelujah.” Now his voice was thick with tears, and the beautiful word sounded as torn as if it were cutting the beautiful boy’s throat on its way out: “Hallelujah. Hallelujah.”

Adam hastily set the coffees on the curb and hurried to Kurt’s side, arms closing around his waist just as Kurt let out the last, near-inaudible “Hallelujah.” He jolted violently at Adam’s touch and hastily stepped away, entire body radiating tension. Adam’s heart ached when he remembered Kurt telling him about people whom flung him into lockers or attempted to toss him down a flight of steps—had he thought…?

“Dahling?” Kurt’s eyes were red, and he abashedly wiped them on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

He immediately stooped and pressed a hot coffee into Kurt’s grease-stained hands. A peace offering. Kurt looked at him with a watery smile, and then sighed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see…”

“You sounded lovely,” Adam insisted, catching a stray tear with a fingertip. “But you look so sad. I don’t—“

Kurt turned to look at the car again, expression inscrutable.

“The first time people came into my dad’s shop, and I would tell them I’d be fixing their car, they always looked a little freaked out.” He snorted inaudibly and pressed a hand against the car’s side. “That this…fairy boy in bedazzled overalls was going to be working on their baby.”

Adam kissed Kurt’s cheek. “Joke’s on them, dahling. They didn’t even know how to take care of their own cars. And no one could see you resurrect a car and call you a fairy.”

A fae, maybe. You could call Kurt a fae.

“They didn’t,” Kurt complained, smiling fondly when Adam kissed him again, embraced him. He set the coffee down. “Hey, I don’t want to cover you in car oil.”

“I don’t care. If Kurt Hummel is wearing car oil, it’ll be de rigeur by Fall.”

Kurt hesitated and then hugged him back, lips tracing over Adam’s neck pulse.

“When Finn came to work in my father’s shop, he didn’t seem surprised that I knew my way around an engine, though all the guys in Glee did.” Adam tensed and hugged him tighter. “I mean…you know we had problems, but he compensated by playing up the older brother role to a t.” He snorted again, tears dripping on Adam’s shoulder. “Never mind he was maybe two months older than me. He was really eager to learn everything in the shop…he was pretty good at it.”

Kurt only hugged him for a long moment, a near-wailing sadness emanating off him in waves. Adam desperately wished he knew what to say, but everything that came to mind sounded like a cheap platitude in the face of so awful a tragedy, so much life and promise cut short so early.

“The last time we were together, when we found out Dad’s cancer was gone…and Blaine tried asking me to marry him…Finn read him the riot act. He was so furious that Blaine asked all these people to help propose to me in public even when we weren’t together.” A shuddery laugh and Kurt shook his head. “I thought Blaine was going to wet himself, I really did. And the way he got after the other Glee members was actually pretty nice…it felt good to have someone supporting me for a change.”

“Whatever it’s worth,” Adam said seriously, pulling away from Kurt to look at him. “I am always in your corner.”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed at the ends as he smiled, and Adam’s mouth went dry again.

“Thank goodness for that. I know he was uncertain about you the first time you met judging the way he kept giving you the side-eye, but you passed. When we left, he told me he was happy for me.” Kurt exhaled, squinting into the pale light of a chilly spring sky. “And that you were a good guy.”

“He threatened to break my face if I broke your heart.”

“Oh God.” Kurt buried his face in his hands and Adam laughed. “That does sound like him…

“The night before you and I returned to New York, he and I worked on a car together.” Kurt lowered his hands and closed his eyes, somehow managing to look very old and painfully young all at once. “It’d been a long time, and it was nice. We even started singing together—Hallelujah.”

Adam reached for him again, and again remained silent. He was floundering helplessly inside, deciding at last that the only nearly-appropriate thing to do was to stay silent, bear witness, and to hold onto Kurt for dear life.

Kurt squeezed him back hard. “I like the challenge of finding what’s broken and fixing it. I even like the smell of car oil. I think Finn liked those things too…I’m never going to be able to work on a car without thinking about him.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s…it’s not okay, exactly, but I’ll take this hurt for having known him.” Still Kurt did not pull back and he did not let go. “But every now and again, when I think I’m closer to fine, something dumb like this—or when I go grocery shopping for Ben & Jerry’s and I gag at that Late Night Snack flavor he liked so much…” Kurt’s hands tangled in his own.

“The other day I realized that his birthday was coming soon and I started looking stuff up online. And then I remembered. My mother is dead. My brother is dead.”

Looking pained, Adam pulled back to kiss Kurt’s tearing eyes, his fingers cupping the younger boy’s pale face. They looked at each for several long moments, Kurt managing a half-hearted smile.

“You’re staring. Do I have grease on my cheek?”

“Yes.” Said Adam, before leaning in for a kiss.

It was long, and hard, and their faces were slippery from tears, some of which were Adam’s. He had liked Finn Hudson very much, looked forward to a long friendship with him.

Thought they would possibly be brothers-in-law one day.

But that would never be, and Kurt was again holding his heart’s pieces in his hands, and not for the first nor last time he felt a rush of gratitude that Burt Hummel at least still lived, because how many fractures could even Kurt’s impossibly-strong heart have left in him?

Kurt let out a soft noise of surprise when Adam pulled back to press his swollen lips against Kurt’s hands.

If he died right now he might be happy, save for the fact that he’d hurt Kurt on the way out….how much Adam would like Kurt’s to have proficiency to fix things, to be able to open Kurt himself up and fix the staccato jerks of a broken heart. But of course that was impossible too, and as he tucked Kurt’s head beneath his chin he felt a wild surge of gratitude that Kurt was still here, that the grief that would topple older and wiser men had not poisoned Kurt’s insides. Awed, he ran a hand up and down Kurt’s back.

Despite what had become of them, Elizabeth and Finn could not have died unhappy, not in having the love of someone so precious and remarkable a person. Adam’s heart gently broke a little more, and he tenderly placed his lips to Kurt’s ear, singing what he thought Finn might’ve sang on his death throes:

“Hallelujah. Hallelujah.  Hallelujah.  Hallelujah….”  

Kadam Fic: Learning to Fly (1/?)

Title: Learning to Fly
Series: A New Direction (was Season Four Remix) 
Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Burt Hummel, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Carmen Tibideaux, Cassandra July, Artie Abrams, Tina Cohen-Chang, Adam’s Apples, Original Characters
Rating: PG13
Genre(s): canon divergence.
Parts: 1/?

Summary: As another school year starts at NYADA, Kurt seemed to have it all. The respect of his teachers, a group of wonderful friends and best of all, getting to live with the man that he’d come to love. So of course, the universe would throw a few curve balls in his direction.

On AO3

Keep reading

Kadam Week Prompt Five: Our First Noel

Kurt and Adam either meet or reunite while participating in a volunteer event.

In this fic, Kurt decides to spend Christmas Eve working in a LGBT youth shelter. Burt comes along to help (no Blaine all up here in this bitch) and Kurt meets a kind young man whom found his NYADA audition “Breathtaking.” ^_^

There are a few more switcheroos in this fic: Burt doesn’t tell Kurt about his cancer until the day after Christmas. Kurt’s going to be seriously upset (and not happy that Burt didn’t tell him immediately; I think I would be too) but I’ll say that Burt wanted Kurt to not have to worry about it over Christmas (and the kid DOES worry.)

Plus, on a more selfish note, I have to keep this fic fairly short if I want to finish the week’s challenge, and if Adam and Kurt wanted to talk shop about cancer, this story would be considerably longer.  

Please enjoy!


Kurt never believed he would credit Sue Sylvester with having a good idea (let alone a philanthropic one) but her enlisting the Glee club to volunteer at a homeless shelter last Christmas Eve had been a surprisingly sweet initiative on her part. That had lasted all of one day, but he thought it would be a good annual tradition to adopt.

When he thought he would be spending Christmas alone this year, Kurt had signed himself up to work at a halfway center known as the “Rainbow Connection,” a center which provided aid to displaced LGBT youth in New York City.

But Burt had shown up at the door with a tree, very nearly inducing a heart attack of Kurt’s own. After the tree had been put up and they’d waved Rachel off for her cruise, Burt had volunteered to come along with Kurt to the shelter. The man had signed up considerably late, but none of the staff minded.

“We really need all the help we can get,” said the curly-haired man whom shook both their hands at the check-in desk. He was wearing a Santa cap. “We won’t be turning away anyone today, that or any other day.”

Kurt looked around the center’s reception room. It was a weathered place, bearing scratch marks on walls with chipped and faded paint. Old pipes gurgled from the ceiling, and the carpet was frayed and water-stained. He might’ve been imagining things, but judging by its slightly lopsided halls the place seemed to be actively sinking into the earth. Burt looked around too, brow furrowing.

“If I have anythin’ to say in Washington about any gay kid shelter—and damned well I do—I’m not gonna stand for Ohio’s shelters getting this beat up.”

Kurt thought the building was in desperate need of a facelift, but the staff had tried cheering the place with an explosion of color: There were LGBT flags and safe space stickers everywhere you looked, a burst of silver and blue paper chains surrounding a battered menorah on a crooked table, and a kenora surrounded by red and gold tinsel not far away. Christmas lights were wrapped around the battered old pipes, and down the halls were intermittent little Charlie Brown trees the staff had likely picked from the remains of Christmas tree lots. They’d been loved into life with handmade decorations, photos of staff members and shelter comers. Kurt’s heart ached and his throat tightened as he looked at them, looked at the resource posters for food, foster care, financial aid, and STD prevention and care.

“I’m glad this place exists.”

“Me too,” said Burt heavily. “But I’m real sorry that it has to.”

“We got a whole lot of people coming in tonight and tomorrow,” said the shelter attendant, and they turned to face him again. “The weather tonight is supposed to set a new record for the coldest Christmas NYC’s seen in eleven years.”

Kurt felt a hot wave of guilt. His dad had flown so far to see him, had saved him from being one of the displaced teens coming in for a respite from the cold, to the only Christmas they were likely to get. He stepped closer to his father, and Burt wrapped an arm around his shoulders, hugging him.

“Now to find jobs for you both. Can either of you cook?”

Burt muttered a “Not really,” while Kurt nodded. “A little.”

“’A little’ meaning my kid cooks better than anyone I ever met. Uh, don’t tell Carol I said that.”

The man sighed, looking profoundly relieved. “Right then. Kurt, if I could just have you take a right down the hall to the kitchen, they’ll put you to work. Mr. Hummel, if you’ll just come with me, please…”

Kurt reluctantly waved goodbye to his father, headed into the kitchen area, where he was pleased to find lots of people already at work, bustling over trays of turkey, foil casserole dishes of potatoes and cranberry sauce.

The man in charge eagerly put Kurt to work on the Christmas cookies. As Kurt picked up an icing bag, for one sliver in time, his mother’s hands were wrapped around his much smaller ones, guiding his decorating for Santa’s cookies.

He blinked, and got to work carefully decorating snowflake shaped cookies, making silvery curly-ques atop light-blue icing, dotting them with glittery sugar and chocolate chips. He knew he was being silly; people would be more interested in eating the cookies then looking at them, but he didn’t want the dessert to seem perfunctory. He’d yelled at his bemused father for trying to stick a plate of oreos in front of the fireplace when that just wasn’t the same.

He made rainbow cookies with gender symbols atop them, cookies in the shape of an ace with black, blue and purple frosting, glittery blue, pink and white striped stars to represent the transgender flag. Perhaps he went a bit too far by making little gingerbread men in frosting tuxedos holding hands with each other, but he could not resist. Soon he made little gingerbread women with icing skirts doing the same, followed by large heart cookies. Feeling sheepish, Kurt nonetheless got to work writing on the hearts, wondering if they seemed too much like Valentine’s-conversation candy.

“These are all lovely.”

Starting, Kurt whirled around, nearly knocking the young man beside him in the ribs with his elbow—there really were too many cooks in the kitchen. “Oh! Oh, I’m sorry. And thank you.”

The young man smiled. He was a tall bean pole, with dark blond hair tousled beneath his beanie, with light-blue eyes and a small cleft in his chin. Kurt felt the bottom briefly drop out of his stomach. “It’s quite alright. I’m sorry; there isn’t too much space here.” He had a British accent.

He took a careful step back, still smiling down at Kurt’s cookies, expression soft. “Oh, these are wonderful. You make pastries as well as you sing, Kurt. People will be fighting over them.”

Kurt’s face was suddenly as flaming as his cookies and he looked away, smiling broadly.

“I hope not. And thank you again, ah—“ His eyes widened in surprise as he realized that while the stranger knew his name, Kurt didn’t know his. And certainly he wouldn’t forget a face like this one.

It was the stranger’s turn to flush. “I’m sorry; I’m a fan, not a stalker.” He frowned. “Stalkers aren’t allowed to say that, are they? Ah, well. Adam Crawford.” He extended a floury hand, and Kurt took it with a bemused smile. “I forget you’re not a NYADA student just yet.”

“How did you know I got in?” Kurt asked wonderingly.

“I heard your performance at the Winter showcase.” Adam smiled again, eyes warm and bright. “If Madame T didn’t let you in after that, I can only conclude she’d need to be shut in an asylum.”

Kurt laughed aloud at that, surprising himself. “Well, thank you. I think Rachel was the showstopper though.”

“Rachel Berry?” asked Adam, brow creasing. “She was fine. But the way you sang…” Adam shook his head in stunned amazement. “It was positively…breathtaking.”

Kurt colored a little more, knowing he ought to get back to the cookies and yet rooted to the spot. “Thank you.”

“Fair warning,” said Adam, moving to check the bubbling pot he’d been working over. He scooped out a ladleful and after blowing on it for some time took a tentative sip. “The moment you finished singing the Apples gathered outside to discuss potential tactics on how to recruit you. I likely would’ve discovered where you lived and shown up on your doorstep with my homemade apple pie. You wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

“Wait, what? The Apples? And recruit me for what, being gay?”

“Of course you can’t recruit people into being gay. You can only become gay by sitting too close to the telly,” Adam said seriously. Then his face fell and both he and Kurt burst out giggling. Adam wiped his eyes.

“The Adam’s Apples are the show choir group I founded.” Kurt’s eyes lit up at once. “I thought you were remarkable, but to be honest, I didn’t have much hope, considering how good you are and we’re…” Adam shrugged helplessly. “Well, show choir. Even amongst misfit artists, show choir members are treated anathema at NYADA.”

“That’s okay. I was part of my high school glee club, and even nerds threw rocks at us from cars. But pie and show choir both sound excellent to me.”

Adam opened the oven and Kurt got a hot waft of decadent cinnamon and melting brown sugar, along with the gentle smell of apples. “Come to the dark side, Kurt. We have pie.”

“As long as it’s not koolaid.”

“And try a bit of this,” Adam offered, fetching another saucer and offering Kurt a small scoop of soup. Throwing Adam a dubious look, Kurt blew on it and tried, eyes closing.

“Oh dear God, that chicken and dumpling is divine.” He laughed and shook his head. “Did you follow me here so that you could win me over to your show choir with food?”

It was stupid, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Adam maybe cooked this way for someone else.

“Is it working?” Adam asked innocently, chuckling when Kurt nudged him playfully. “No, dear. I come here often. I only just so happened to recognize you.”  

“Are you…are you a volunteer as well?”

“Yes,” said Adam, stirring the pot and adding pepper. “School and the Apples keep me busy and I can’t come as often as I like, but I like to volunteer as a day camp counselor here. The facility works with the state to find lgbt-friendly foster homes for minors, but lots of them like to come here and participate in therapy or art classes.”

“Are you…” He ought not to ask, not to ask— “Are you here with your family tonight?”

Adam smiled and shook his head. “No, they’re back across the pond in Wessex, but no one minded a bit when I came out, not even my gran. I’m afraid I’m saving my money in the kipper for a longer vacation opportunity in the summer, so I won’t be with them this year.” He exhaled, and looked at the window, beckoning Kurt over with a finger.


The sight knocked the heart out of him; there was already an enormous line of people outside the shelter. Attendants were trying to shepherd people inside, but the line wrapped around the block. People were huddling together, all the while the wind was whistling and the world was being pillowed with snow. Kurt blinked again and prayed Adam didn’t notice him dab at his eye.

“Here I’m reminded it could be worse,” the taller boy said quietly, going back to his cutting board to slice potatoes. Kurt turned back to the cookies, tracing words on the desserts as quickly as he could. “I feel guilty.”


“I…my dad struggled with my coming out, it was so different than everything he ever was, and yet he took me exactly as I am, unconditionally.” Kurt palmed his eye. “I was so afraid when I told him that I’d…well, my friend Mercedes offered to let me stay at her place, if…”

Adam looked over at him, expression serious. “You shouldn’t have had to worry about that at all, Kurt.” Adam pronounced his name Kuht, and Kurt liked how it sounded. “No one deserves to be thrown out of their home for something they simply cannot help. While I’m very happy your dad is supportive, I wish that support were simply expected, rather than being an instance of sheer luck.”

Kurt smiled sadly. “My dad said something along the same lines.”

Suddenly he got an idea, and seized a package of paper cups and ripped off the plastic. Kurt grabbed a tray from a shelf beneath him, and after setting the cups upon it started filling them all from an enormous dispenser with cocoa. Adam watched curiously as Kurt feverishly sprinkled cinnamon in them all, grabbed his coat off the hook and started buttoning. “What are you…” He looked outside and his eyes widened with understanding. “Oh…”  

“I know I probably can’t give one to everyone in time,” Kurt said breathlessly, bustling for the emergency exit. “But I have to at least try.”

Stunned, Adam watched as Kurt headed out, the wind buffeting him as he did so. A second later Adam turned the burner and oven off, and started stacking a tray of his own, curiously sampling a hot cocoa with cinnamon. He closed his eyes. God, but that was delicious.  

He hurried out afterwards, the chill knifing into his bones, making him seize up. He’d been in such a rush to follow Kurt that he’d forgotten his coat. Kurt was already making a beeline for the line, his face flushed pink. Adam watched it for a stupidly long moment, then jolted and followed suit.  

By now the line was moving and more people had made their way inside, but no one rejected the cocoa, some sipping cautiously while others simply moved their faces over the steam, wrapping icy fingers around the hot cups.

Soon after the boys rushed in again, and again, and on the sixth time Kurt thought at least he was getting some exercise this Christmas. He and Adam kept bumping into each other as they served chocolate, and Kurt couldn’t help but huddle closer to the other boy—it really was bitterly cold out.

By the time they’d served cocoa to the last person heading inside they staggered back into the kitchen, exhausted, very flushed, very cold and cracking up. “Dear God, your hands,” Adam exclaimed, taking Kurt’s flushed hands in his own.

“Hello, pot. I’m kettle. You’re pink,” pointed out Kurt, and started giggling when Adam swatted at him affectionately.

Soon the food was moved to the counter, where the line was already waiting. He looked over at Adam. “Do you have any plans for Christmas?”

“Oh, I’ll…enjoy some movies and soup in bed. Catch up on my reading.”

Kurt said nothing to that for a few moments. Hours ago he’d expected a quiet day himself, had been able to excuse his not-returning to Lima on lack of funds (and a desire to avoid his ex.) But after Burt had appeared, the idea now seemed inexplicably lonely.

“Well, you’re sitting with us at the volunteer’s table tonight.” Kurt said crisply, voice leaving no room for argument. “Those are my terms if you want me to join the apples. Take it or leave it.”

Adam looked bemused, then amazed, and then laughed gleefully.

“You drive a hard bargain, sir. I’ll take it.”


Later that night, Adam would pass a cookie to Kurt that he’d made himself. It simply read, You’re Adorable.

And Kurt would stutter and look away, and Burt would lift a brow and throw an inscrutable look at his son, whom was glugging down cocoa to avoid answering. Burt’s uncertain expression would thaw (albeit begrudgingly) as Adam described his work as a counselor in the youth programs at the youth center, and his ragtag showchoir at NYADA, and how Kurt sounded like a silver bell at the winter showcase. (If Kurt hadn’t been red before, he was scarlet then.)

And Burt would invite Adam to take the Rockettes ticket he’d bought for Rachel before he knew she was leaving town. And Adam would stammer that no, he really couldn’t and Burt Hummel said calmly that he damn well could, and would because the tickets were non-refundable and ‘my kid just lit up like the star of Bethlehem, so will you not ruin my kid’s Christmas?’ And Adam was speechless, though he was already understanding that a wise man does not argue with Burt Hummel.

And Kurt would squeeze his hand underneath the table, and offer Adam the opportunity to come back home with them afterwards and eat too much food while they watched basketball (while his father did, anyway) and that sounded perfect, so of course Adam said yes. And of course Kurt would smile, eyes shining.

That would be their first Christmas together. It wasn’t their last.

Kadam Fic: All’s Faire In Love and War (1/1)

Title: All’s Faire In Love and War
Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Blaine Anderson, Original Characters
Rating: PG13 
Genre(s): slight canon divergence, major lol Klaine and Blaine (I mean this - am not at all nice to him here. 
Parts: 1/1

Summary:  Taking a summer job at the New York Renaissance Faire provides some interesting opportunities for Kurt, both professionally and personally.

Read on AO3

This is something that I’ve had sitting on my hard drive for some time and wanted to share. It’s an offshoot of my misspent youth as a Rennie and proud member of the International Wenches Guild at the NY Renaissance Faire at Sterling Forest (with the corset scars and compromising photos to prove it). Some of this is based on my real experiences in attending the faire and the friendships I made their with my fellow Rennies and the members of the cast.

It’s a slight AU, where Kurt did not meet Adam at NYADA and they meet for the first time at the faire. It’s a one parter now, but I may expand on it later. Ta!

Keep reading

I hated how they villainized every character that cockblocked an “endgame” couple. Look what happened with Brody, who was pretty likable until they randomly decided to make him a manwhore to bring back the fairytale ending couple (finchel). Hell, they even did it with Adam kicking Kurt out of the apples just because of him being engaged to Blaine. Yes they were endgame, but that doesn’t mean every ex has to be a villain.

Kadam Fic: Dramatic Theory (1/2)

Title: Dramatic Theory
Series: A New Direction (was Season Four Remix)

Pairing(s), Characters(s):
Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Burt Hummel, Carole Hudson-Hummel, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Noah Puckerman, Tina Cohen-Chang, Artie Abrams, Original Characters
Rating: PG13 
Genre(s): canon divergence.
Parts: 1 /2

On AO3

Summary: As Kurt prepares to make his professional debut at the Garrison Shakespeare Festival, he finds that he has a lot more to learn than simple stagecraft.

Keep reading


Good or bad, here’s some creative “Phantom of the Opera” promo posters and slogans focusing on the Phantom and/or Christine rather than the logo mask.

  1. “15 haunting years” (Broadway 2003)
  2. "Tonight belongs to…” (Broadway and US Tour 2008)
  3. “Romantic legends live forever” (Toronto 1994)
  4. “Danke Hamburg!” (Hamburg 2015)
  5. “Surrender to the music of the night” (West End 2003/04)
  6. “Phantom: Be seduced” (Las Vegas 2006-12)
  7. “Be seduced” (West End 2016)
  8. “London’s most haunting love story” (West End 2007)
  9. “London’s most haunting love story” (West End 200?)

To my knowledge, poster number 2, 4 and 6 used random models instead of actual leads, while the other feature people who’s played the role.