#violints

he’s the type of guy who’s realllly into magic tricks and will force you to watch him incorrectly guess which card you had for a full forty-five minutes

lmao since when is pointing out a millionaire’s racism “starting drama” wtf

when will someone throw every tumblr rper into one groupchat and just watch them all duke it out

                ‘van! you listened to frozen 2 yet? totally think it’s gonna beat that billie eilish crap in the grammys this year -- next year? i don’t know what the grammys are, but justice for our ice queen, you know? bop after bop and all that ... is the grammys like an election? like how it is with presidency stuff? ... do we get to vote in it?’

    “   pete’s  away,    so  the  mice  will  play!!!   “    wade  is  unceremoniously  shouting   as  he  quite literally  kicks  open  the  door  to  their  apartment,   picks  up  vanya  from  where  she’s  sitting  peacefully  only  to  throw  her  over his  shoulder  like a  bag  of  potatoes,   and  then  make  his  way  over  to the  kitchen  to  set  her  atop  the  counter.      then,   he starts  unpacking his  whole  bag  of  goodies  :    a stained  duffel  bag  he’s  got  around his  other  shoulder. 

                     ❝   there’s a cold lonely light that shines from you.   ❞

Awareness comes as it sometimes does: slowly and then all at once. It’s the headache that Klaus feels first, less like a box of cotton up his nose and more like someone’s taken a hammer to his skull, which isn’t a new feeling-hell he cracked his skull to the point of death only a few days ago, headaches are familiar ground. Still it’s unpleasant enough to make him moan softly shifting slightly on the soft pillow. That is new: usually when Klaus is crawling his way from unconsciousness it’s when he’s taken too much before collapsing in the street, or sometimes an uncomfortable hospital bed. It’s a nice change and he’s happy to just lay and appreciate it, and then he remembers. Vanya. The mansion collapsing, the theatre, Vanya, the moon-the meteor hurtling towards them all until-Klaus’ eyes fly open and he jerks into a painful sitting position, gasping. The meteor, the one he’d stopped, or thought he stopped, and pushed right back into space. Was that real? Had that happened? Or was it just some weird trick of his brain? Klaus isn’t Vanya or Luther or Allison, he didn’t have strong amazing save the world powers, just a bunch of ghosts following him around. Surely this was all a mistake, a weird dream after a bad trip? His thoughts run in circles making his head pound and his breath comes in shallow, terrified gasps. Eyes wide he tries to take in his surroundings, a bedroom he realises, one he doesn’t recognise which if anything is even more worrying. Distantly he thinks he might be hearing Ben saying his name but it doesn’t matter because if that was just a dream or a weird trip, if that didn’t actually happen then it means the world is still ending, or has ended. If it did happen, if he did stop the meteor with his fucking brain or whatever well-well he doesn’t really want to think about that right now, actually. 

Escaping the mess of blankets on the bed is hard, his shaking limbs feel heavy and useless but he manages eventually. He swings his legs over the bed, stands up and instantly has to hold onto the wardrobe for support as his legs almost go out under him. Ben’s voice sounds a little frantic now, but Klaus is deaf to it, numb to anything but figuring out where he is, and what’s happened, and if his siblings are still alive. Staggering towards the bedroom door is slow and agonising, but Klaus is an expert at dragging his barely conscious body around. When he finally makes it to the door he doesn’t hesitate or think before throwing it open into-Vanya’s apartment? He recognises the living room, the sofa he’s crashed on so many times, but that doesn’t make sense. If he’s here then were is she? The thought that Luther might have locked her up again makes his legs go weak and he stumbles, nearly passes out and has to swallow past the nausea and added panic that the thought brings.