#totallyevan

[number5theboy]

@totallyevan​‘s TUAOCTOBER Day 24: Fraud

Klaus + ‘It’s Tough To Be A God’ from The Road To El Dorado

[evesbeve]

Ah yes, the two genders

(via @totallyevan)

[tuaparadis]

[zontiky]

"HE KISS A SNACC

HE DIE BY GETTING SHOT AND THAT WAS WACC

BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY

HE BACC"

- @totallyevan

[dogbearinggifts]

Sorta related to ghost-time-travel, it was just kind of inspired by it. Do you think Dave stayed in the afterlife/earth/whatever-the-fuck for 50 years wandering around before he found Klaus (sober Klaus) in the day that wasn't? Since he DID die in 1968-69.

I think he did. We don’t know the “rules” for becoming a ghost yet (why some people go to the afterlife, why some follow their killers around, why some seem to just….stay in one place, etc.) but I see Dave as more the type to wait. I like to think he’d meet up with some of their mutual Army buddies once they too died and just kind of chill, trading stories and jokes and reminiscing about those they’d left behind. He was probably always more than a little wistful about those too-short months he and Klaus had together, but I think he also had hope that somehow, one way or another, they’d be reunited. 

[thesevennumbers]

I’m doing my homework and @totallyevan is now taking me under his wig?

shocked and confused???

(in all seriousness, thank you! you’re so sweet❤️)

[mieczyhale]

mace does inktober 2019 day 1 | prompt:: birthday

[click for better quality bc fuck tumblr]

dave got klaus a puppy for his birthday because that’s just what gays do

tua inktober prompts by:: @totallyevan

[0004-hargreeves]

Inktober, but With Words, Day 4: Death

I thought I'd join in 4 days late with a story for @totallyevan's TUA thing even though it's the 5th but whatever :) Enjoy!

I'll edit in a 'read more' option later when I'm not on mobile lol.

Summary: The story of the time Klaus first tried drugs to suppress the voices in his head.

Warnings: drugs, drug use, mentions of death, overdose, swearing

°•○●○•°

Klaus was...an interesting person, to say the least. He always tried to do the right thing. When he was 5 he stole 3 baby birds and their nest because he believed he could take better care of them than their mother.

Father didn't allow him to keep the babies though, and made him take the nest back where he found it.

He couldn't reach the branch, and being the stubborn child he was, he didnt want to ask Diego or Luther or even Five for help. He didn't need it. He never needed it.

So, he left it at the bottom of the tree, unaware that it wasnt the place for delicate babies, and where they were was only rewarding the predators.

That was his first tango with the dead, finding the dead birds a couple of days later after sneaking out.

The second time was only 5 years later. Klaus was 10, and he'd been locked in the mausoleum by father twice now.

He never truly got over it, no matter how many times he'd been in there. It still scared him shitless.

He'd realized eventually that the door was unlocked the whole time, and that father had been using his fear to make him afraid of trying to escape on his own.

He pushed open the door and slowly walked out, sighing in relief.

He just had to be back before father came back, and he'd be none the wiser.

Klaus took a stroll downtown, keeping his head low so no one would recognize him, eventually ducking in to an alley to circle back to the mausoleum.

"Hey there, kid. You look like you should relax a bit."

Klaus whirled around and saw a man with wild hair and a toothless grin. He was sitting on the ground of the alley, several bags of white power around him. When he didnt reply, the man spoke again.

"I got some magical stuff, boy. All your worries will melt away. No charge for your first time." He smiled, a crazed, stoned look in his eyes.

"W-what kind of stuff?" Klaus asked, his curiosity piqued. He was desperate to get the voices out of his head, if the man was telling some truth.

"All kinds of stuff!" The man laughed, throwing his gloves hands out from his side. "I got heroin, cocaine, weed, ecstasy, acid, you name it! I take it you wanna try?"

Klaus nodded, unsure what all those names were. He stretched out his shaking hand and the man pressed a bag of white powder into it.

"You'll want to snort that one." The man said, pressing one finger to the side of his nose. Klaus walked away, opening the bag.

He noticed it smelled quite bitter, like vinegar, and he reached a hand in and ran it through his fingers.

He grasped the bag shut and took off, running back to the mausoleum for when father returned.

Slipping in the heavy door, Klaus took a seat on the floor, trying to ignore the ghosts screaming his name in horror, begging him to help them.

His hands shook as he emptied the contents on the floor, taking a dollar bill he found on the street and rolled it up. He was terrified, but maybe, just maybe, this stuff could help him.

He bent down and took a quick sniff, wincing as the drugs went through his nose and into his system.

The ghosts were still there.

He decided to try again, this time taking a bigger sniff, and again, and again, getting angrier and angrier that nothing was working.

He started to feel drowsy suddenly, but he could hear the screams of the ghosts fade away into nothing.

He felt happy, excited that it finally worked.

Then, his heart slowed, as did his breathing. He felt sick and lightheaded, and he began coughing uncontrollably. He crawled over to the wall, scared and confused.

What the fuck was happening? He vomited on the floor, leaning heavily on the wall as his eyes drooped and he drifted into darkness, the pain and nausea floating away.

Klaus died for the first time that day. He overdosed on heroin without truly understanding that he did.

But he came back. He came back with a jerk, gasping for air and frantically trying to get his bearings.

He was still in the mausoleum, on the floor with a puddle of his vomit beside him. He didnt understand what happened. He didnt remember everything that happened in the last hour, which is what he guess was the amount of time that passed.

Father hadn't returned, from the look of things, and Klaus was grateful. He could get rid of the drugs on the floor and pretend that he never went out there, he never got any drugs, he never died.

That's when he realized that the voices and the ghosts were gone.

They were silent, they're weren't there. They worked. The drugs actually worked!

Klaus laughed humourlessly. He couldnt believe it! The old man told the truth. All his problems dissapeared.

He told himself than the drugs would wear off though, and he began to feel scared. He didnt want to see them again. He couldn't.

Father came about two hours later and was impressed with how calm Klaus was.

He didn't know that it was only because of the drugs.

After that day, Klaus went out almost every Sunday on their days off from training to go out and buy a weeks worth of drugs from different sellers on the street.

He made sure to only take enough that the ghosts would be gone, to avoid another accidental overdose.

Of course, it happened a couple more times, with him waking up with a start every time.

He wouldn't find out until he was 29 and at a rave that all those times had been God giving him second and third and fifteenth chances to get his life straight.