#oh also kurt and ram are attached because they are attached. hope this helps.

[midnightdemonhunter]

What's that they say about vengeful angels?

[ongaku-ato-kakikomi]

Tiptoeing In Death (2)

This is a series. Please check the Masterlist to read the chapters in order.

Masterlist.

You stop in the middle of your bedroom’s entrance when you see one of the stupid jock ghost looking around your room, though you rapidly shake your head and continue your way in like you haven’t seen him. Luckily for you, he seemed to have been too engulfed into looking at some of your sketches on the walls to notice anything, the boy almost like he’s admiring them. 

He jumps up when you open your closet’s door, seeing his head turning towards you from the corner of your eyes. He doesn’t seem to do much more than what he was doing before you came in, but you tense up when you hear a chuckle as soon as you pick out some pajamas. 

“I’m getting a show already? Niiice...”

Feeling more than disgusted, you decide to not do the initial plan of changing in here and instead walk out of the room, clutching the fabric of your pajamas in your right hand while you get towards the bathroom.

“Hey, wait! Where you’re going?” You obviously don’t answer, simply grinding your teeth as you continue your way. “Ooooh, I get it. A shower, huh? Even better!”

‘For fuck sake, how did Veronica managed to get two of these idiots attached to her?’

Sadly, this isn’t the first time one pervy ghost tried to take a peek at your naked body… and so after a lot of research in weird books you’ve found in old libraries and a few tests with the help of Andrew, you found a symbol that can block the passage to a room from a ghost. So… now… there’s a giant symbol drawn onto the bathroom door along with one on the bathroom blinds, which means that you can do your hygienic stuff in peace.

You can’t quite stop the proud smirk gracing your lips when you lock the door behind you, your grin stretching out as soon as you hear the loud complaints from the ghost boy getting muffled by the door.

“What the- Why can’t I get through!? Kurt, I can’t get through!”

“I already told you, Ram. You can’t just try to walk through the door, you have to concentrate-”

“I fucking know that, but it’s not working!”

“Will you two just shut the fuck up!?”

“Mind your own business, Heather!”

Good. Now you know all their names: JD, Kurt, Ram, and Heather. No last names yet, but then again, you almost never learn those. If you wanna know more about why these ghosts are following Veronica around, you must wait for her to share her story with you…

… if she ever wants to share her story with you.

You quickly change in your pajamas while they’re fighting right outside the door, taking the opportunity soon after to brush your teeth in front of the sink. Once you’re finally done, silent enraptured the atmosphere all around, your head slowly turning towards the door.

They’re all gone now… right?

You give out a yawn just as you open the door, having to suppress a scream when you notice JD standing right on the side. He stares at you with it blank white eye, the blood splatter on his head looking worse than before. You blink rapidly and rub your eyes while you pass by him, acting as if you just had a brain freeze because of how tired you are. You don’t even give him a side look; that guy seems to be the smartest of them, you can’t risk giving him any hints that you can see him.

You feel a chill run down your spine when you hear him follow you, feeling his glare piercing through your back as if he wants you to die right there. From what you can tell, JD is a ghost with a lot of suppressed anger in him, using that anger to push anyone who might get close to Veronica away. At least, he’s angry enough to want you to disappear, even though you literally just met her today.

You scream when the phone suddenly starts ringing, putting a hand on your rapidly beating heart to try and calm it once you realize that there’s no danger. You walk towards the phone with JD close to your trails, almost trembling as you pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Honey, hi! How did it go? Has Veronica moved in?” 

You give out a fond smile at the sound of your mother’s voice. “Hi, mom. Yeah, she moved in today. She seems nice.”

“Oh, I’m glad! I was afraid we might have picked someone dangerous to live with you-”

“Well, anyone can be dangerous.” You take a few strands of hair out of your face, watching JD’s reflection in the window in front of you. “Isn’t that what you taught me?

“Yes, yes, you’re right… but she had quite the traumatic history, so I just wondered…”

“Mom, what happened to her is none of my business. You’re not supposed to tell me anything, remember?” 

“Yeah, she’ll tell you if she wants to, I know.” 

You tense up when he approaches his face to yours, probably trying to hear your mother’s voice better. “Mom, it’s late. I’m gonna head to bed. Kiss dad goodnight for me?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Have nice dreams.”

 “You too, mom.” 

She hangs up before you, your hand gently putting the handle back to its place before you walk back towards where your room is. Lucky for you, JD doesn’t follow you in and simply watches you from afar with a deathly glare, the boy still looking towards your form even after you close the door behind you.

Tonight might be a long night.

--------------------------------------

The next day, you open your eyes to see none other than Andrew’s face right in front of you, the little drowned kid having watched you sleep with wide-opened eyes all night.

“... Hi.”

He blinks a few times, a grin forming onto his lips. “Hi.”

“You know that watching me sleep is extremely creepy, right?”

His grin stretches out. “Huh-huh.”

“I mean, you might be my best friend… but I would like you to not do that in the future.”

He rolls his eyes at you just as you sit up, stretching your arms up in the air while yawning. “Sure… but only once those ghosts will be completely gone. Someone needs to protect you while you’re unconscious.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him after you stand up. “Well, how nice of you.” 

“Complain all you want, but you know I’m right.” He turns around when you walk towards your closet, waiting for you to change. “If those guys know that you can see them, you know you’ll be in danger.”

“I know.” 

“I mean, you remember what happened last time, huh? You almost died-”

“I know.”

“And then we had to seek that old woman to know about a ritual-”

“Andrew… I know.” You send his back of his head a look just as you finish changing, brushing your hair with your hands to try and tie it to a ponytail. “I learned my lesson, we’re not gonna repeat that story again.”

“Of course you won’t, I won’t let you.” He turns around after you finish putting your hair in a ponytail, a frown settled on his face. “Which is why I will stay with you today.”

You stay silent for a while, then give out a sigh. “You know that’s just gonna make them suspicious of me, right?”

“I don’t care.”

“They’re gonna see a drowned ten-year-old boy follow me around all day, they’re gonna wonder if I didn’t kill you or something.”

“Well, they’re gonna see me at some point anyway, I’m linked to you!”

“And they’re linked to her.” He follows you towards your door, giving him one last look before you open. “Okay, look… you can follow me, but no talking to me whatsoever, alright?”

He gives a groan. “... fine.”

A smile soon graces your lips. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

He rolls his eyes just as you open the door, both of you stepping out.

------------------------

“You should take your own apartment.”

Veronica ignores JD’s voice in her ear, concentrating on eating her cereal like any normal person would do. She can also hear Heather, Kurt, and Ram fighting a few meters away, the subject not being important enough for her to actually listen. Though it does sound better than hearing her crazy ex-boyfriend’s voice all the time.

“Take. Another. Apartment.”

“I can’t….!” She whispers those words, hoping that it’ll be enough to quiet him. “This is the only place that would take me, okay? So shut it. Don’t make me remind you that this is your fault.”

He quiets down immediately, flashes of his last moments coming back into her head. She shakes them off and takes another scoop of her cereal into her mouth. She doesn’t know you, but you seem nice and, judging by how you’ve been acting, you don’t know anything about her past. Which is a miracle... considering that her town’s deaths have been on the news for months. 

But if it means she can be normal to one person for just a little time, she'll take it.

"Enjoying my cereal?"

She almost chokes on her food at the sound of your voice, redness creeping into her cheeks when you laugh. She turns shy eyes towards your form just as you prepare your own breakfast: a simple red apple.

"I'm sorry… was I not supposed to?"

"Of course you can eat. What's mine is yours." You take a bite out of your Apple, sensing her a cheeky smile that brings a genuine onto her lips. "What are you gonna do today?"

"Oh, well…" She looks down at her bowl for a moment before she gives out a smile. "I was thinking of going on campus. Seeing where my classes are before they start next week."

Your eyes widen with excitement. "That's a great idea! Oh, and if you want, I can be your guide."

"But I don't wanna bother-"

"Hey, I have nothing to do today, it'll be my pleasure." You take another bite of your Apple, raising a finger as you give her a serious look. "One condition though."

She feels her stomach turn in worry. Maybe you know who she is… are you gonna ask her to not let people know you live together? She wouldn't blame you if you did.

"Um… what is it?"

Your lips stretch out into a large grin. "No cars. We walk there."

She can't help but let out a laugh, her shoulders relaxing from relief. "Well, I don't mind!"

"Good." You send her a wink before disappearing into the hallway. "It's a date. Be ready in an hour."

She feels her cheeks heat up at the mention of the word 'date', even though she knows that you didn't mean it that way-

"Stop it." 

She tightens her grip on her spoon when she hears his voice. "... Stop what?"

"Being nice to her. I don't like it."

"Well, watch me, then." She stands up and walks towards the sink, putting her empty bowl in it. "Because I like it. And you have nothing to say in the matter-"

"A drowned kid is linked to her, Ronnie." Her heart drops into her stomach just as her eyes widen, shocked as to what he just said. “You know what that means, right?”

She doesn’t want to think about it. She doesn’t wanna think you could have killed someone so young, not when you’re this sweet and generous towards her. You have to be a normal and kind girl, not a psychopath. She can’t deal with psychopaths anymore-

“I’m just trying to protect you, Ronnie.”

She breathes in loudly before she lets it out, her hands tightening onto the counter. Can he shut up for just… one second?

“You need to leave this place, Ronnie.”

“Four of you are linked to me, JD.” She grinds her teeth, imagining his face in her head. “I think out of the two, she’s the one who should run away.”

“Those idiots deserved what we did to them-”

“Hey, who you’re calling an idiot?”

“Yeah, who you’re calling?”

“You three! I’m calling you three idiots!”

“Don’t you dare put me in the same basket as those two morons! I’ll have you know that I’m a goddess!”

“Yeah, a super annoying goddess!”

“And we’re not morons! I don’t even know what that means!”

Veronica just gives out a loud groan of annoyance as their voice continues fighting right behind her, internally hoping for the next hour to go quickly.

Spending time with you sounds so good right now.

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine Advent one-shot - “Blaine’s Bicycle Dilemma (Rated PG13)

After Blaine fails at putting together his daughter's big Christmas present, he is forced to call in a professional for help ... which definitely does not put him in the running for son-in-law of the year. (1586 words)

Notes: This is a re-write, and includes all of the Klaine Advent 2017 prompts from attachment to mist. Also assumes that Burt might still hold a bit of a grudge on his son's behalf for cheating on him, and then dating Karofsky (none of which is mentioned).

Read on AO3.

“Stick tab A into slot B … What the …! What slot B? There’s no slot B!”

“Attach part 3a to 3b using one of the thirteen medium screws as shown in the example to the left … but don’t tighten … Jesus Christ! Now you tell me!”

“For parts 22a and 22b, do not tighten screw and nut too far or you risk bending the metal … oh no … crap! Crap, crap, crap, crap, CRAP!”

“With the included 11/17 inch hex nut … 11/17 inch? Does that fraction even exist?”

“Use one of the small bolts … wait? I have small bolts? (Rustle-rustle) No, I don’t! You gave me a bucket of extra-large bolts that don’t seem to go anywhere, but not one small bolt!”

Blaine collapses on the living room floor a failure, his daughter’s bike in thirteen pieces scattered around him like the broken remains of some metallic, viper-red, zombie horde. The parts he had managed to screw together form the skeleton of an aluminum beast, and after a fifty-third read thru of the instructions (the ones in Filipino since the English side makes even less sense) he discovers that he did the middle half in reverse somehow.

If Blaine Ander-Hummel was ever to break down and cry over anything, this would definitely be the time.

No. He has to keep his head. He has to come up with a plan. There’s never been anything in his life he hasn’t been able to think, sing, or charm his way out of. One of those methods had to apply here. He pulls his iPhone out of his pocket and checks the time.

4:45 a.m. on Christmas morning.

He chokes.

Think, Blaine! Think!

Buying another bike might be possible if he’s willing to lower the bar on his daughter’s expectations … a lot.

Because the only place open at this time on this particular day … is Walmart.

But this bicycle - Tracy picked this one out special. Sure, she might not care in the long run. She might just love whatever bike Blaine gets because it’s a bike and she’s been talking about getting one non-stop for months.

But Kurt will know. Kurt will know it’s not the same one that he himself ordered.

And Blaine will never live it down.

Oh, why didn’t he let Kurt pay extra to have it assembled? Why in hell did he think he needed the ‘dad experience’ of putting together a bicycle on Christmas Eve? What did he think this was? A Hallmark Christmas Special? This is real life, and in real life, as talented as Blaine is, putting things together that require more tools than a flat-head screwdriver are a little beyond his scope, regardless of his one summer putting together a car with his father. For the most part, his dad became so frustrated with Blaine’s attempts at telling the difference between a transmission and a carburetor that he did most of the work himself, talking Blaine through every step as if he were a soft-minded toddler.

Ironically enough, the one person in the house qualified to put together this bike is Kurt.

Blaine sighs. It’s time for him to admit he’s reached his limits and call in a professional.

But first, he has to buy himself some time.

He turns the alarms off. He hides Kurt’s phone. He closes the black-out curtains tight in all the rooms. He sends a very important text message.

Then he sits in the living room and waits.

At six a.m., a half-dead asleep Blaine raises his heavy head at the sound of a Ram pickup pulling up outside the house. he stands slowly, on his guard for any sound – the patter of excited feet racing toward the living room; his husband lumbering into the kitchen to start the coffee machine; the crowing of innocent voices, cheering and singing in praise of Christmas morn - but there’s nothing. Blaine’s attempts to keep the house quiet and dark are working in his favor. Excellent. He’s safe … for now.

If he can answer the door before … shit! 

Blaine hops to his feet, his left leg stinging, numb from being folded underneath his body for the past few hours. It doesn’t want to move, or hold much of his weight, so he drags it to the side as he hobbles quickly for the door, catching it before the people coming up the walk, whispering urgently, have a chance to ring the bell.

“Blaine!” Carole yelps with genuine fear when he yanks open the door. “Wha---what’s going on? Oh my God!” She takes in his appearance – his wrinkled sweatpants and t-shirt, his hair sticking up and out in all directions, the bags under his eyes a violent shade of purple. “You look awful, honey! You said you had a problem and it was important …”

“Yeah,” Blaine mutters. “Yeah, I do … hi …” He opens his arms to his mother-in-law, ushering her into the warmth of the house along with the man he hopes will save the day. He doesn’t have time for pleasantries. He simply jumps to the chase. “Help me, Dad?” he begs, giving Burt a quick hug. “Please? Help me?”

“Why?” Burt asks, looking concerned. “What did you do this time?”

“Well, I … wait … this time?” Blaine peers through the oppressive mist of sleep long enough to be offended, but with a tired Burt staring him down and the realization that he probably deserved that one, he drops it and continues. “I was supposed to put Tracy’s big Christmas present together, but I think I really, uh, screwed up. Please don’t judge me.”

Blaine steps aside and reveals the monstrosity. Carole gasps into chuckles. Burt tilts his head, walking around and examining it from all angles.

“What’s it supposed to be?” he asks.

“Oh God.” Blaine drops his head back and covers his face with his hands. “I messed it up so badly that you can’t tell it’s a bike. You! Of all people!”

“Calm down, sweetheart,” Carole says. “This much anxiety isn’t good for your health. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”

“I can’t calm down!” Blaine groans behind his hands. “There’s too much at stake!”

“Too much at stake,” Carole repeats, confused. “Do you mean … your marriage?” She can’t imagine that that was Kurt’s ultimatum, especially considering her son and his husband have one of the most stable marriages she’s ever seen. Kurt pretty much tells her everything. Aside from some hiccups back in their high school and college days that had been left behind years ago, he never mentioned any fighting, any issues of any kind. He was so excited about today, about having the family together. He even mentioned how in love he was with his insane husband. Could that have been a bit of a black truth? Kurt is usually the dramatic one, but these theatrics from Blaine … this is too much of a breakdown for there to be anything else on the line.

“Worse,” Blaine mumbles. “If I don’t have this bike put together by the time Tracy wakes up, Kurt said … uh …” He doesn’t want to say it, but with the two people he dragged out of their comfy hotel beds at the butt crack of dawn staring at him – one with worry, the other in aggravation – he has to come completely clean “… he’ll never have sex with me again.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Carole sighs, relieved. She puts a hand on Blaine’s shoulder, fighting back laughter so hard that it’s turning into tears. “I think you’re overreacting just a tad.”

“No” - Blaine shakes his head wildly - “no, no, you don’t understand! We had a deal! I put together the bike and he’d wrap the rest of the presents. And do you see all the presents?” Blaine gestures frantically to the stacks of neatly wrapped gifts under the tree. “He’s been wrapping them all day!”

“Why didn’t you guys just pay to get the bike assembled?” Carole asks.

“Because … I … wanted … to do it,” Blaine admits, sheepishly peeking out from behind his fingers.

Carole snickers. Burt rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t think it would be that big a deal! I’ve always been pretty good with my hands!”

After Blaine’s hands remark, Carole can’t stifle her laughter any longer. “How’s that right one treating you, Blaine? Cuz I think the two of you are about to become very well acquainted!”

“Oh God,” Blaine moans the same time Burt grumbles about not mentioning his sons and sex in the same sentence, especially before he’s drunk his morning coffee.

“If I fix this for you,” Burt asks, lying the bike-thing on its side, “do you promise never to make a comment about your sex life with my son again?”

“I promise,” Blaine says, pinching his lips tight and making a gesture over them like locking them with a key … even though he’s not entirely sure that’s a promise he can keep. He and Kurt don’t expressly go out of their way to make sexually suggestive remarks, especially in front of their parents, but sometimes things slip out.

Burt blows out a breath, looking from his hopeless son-in-law over to Carole, trying hard not to cackle out loud and wake the whole household.

“Alright,” he relents, taking off his coat, “hand me a wrench. And just … no more talking about anything unless it’s the Buckeyes or the weather.”