❛ 𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 .

TUA IMAGINES BLOG.

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𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑: 𝟎𝟎𝟎

LOADING  .  .  .

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY IMAGINES & HEADCANONS BLOG !

accept any type of imagines in this blog, really; short stories & headcanons of any genre —— you want fluff, angst? go ahead and request ‘em in.

although there will be limitations: absolutely no pedophilia —— which means that if you ever ask a nsfw about five in his ... 13 year old body, please show yourselves out, the door is left open for you —— and rape?? absolutely big no. and any incentious relationships is basically where you cross the line. 

any nsfw will be marked as such and will be warned beforehand.

for short stories, please provide me a plot, or a short summary of what you want, it’ll make it easier for me ! otherwise, i’ll have to randomise it if you vaguely send me a short plot. x

𝘼̲𝙄̲𝙎̲𝙇̲𝙄̲𝙉̲𝙂̲ 。

MASTERLIST.

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im not dead (unlike ben 🤡), and i’ll get to requests and other things soon! sorry, it’s been a busy couple of days for me. 

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DAY THREE.

you tap nervously against the handle of your suitcase, staring up at the dark wooden door in front of you. you really don’t know how to approach this, or hell, the person who resides in the apartment you’re standing before —— would she welcome you like she did all those years ago before you left?

with a soft sigh, you shake your head and raises a fist, delivering three firm knocks against the wooden surface and await the response. distinctively, you hear the chime of a violen stops and your breath stops in your throat, the tell-tale of pitter patter of footsteps against the floor muffled from behind the door.

it feels like forever until the door opens, a curious and hesitant glance of the shorter woman through the little gap between the door and its frame —— wary gaze turns into shock, and shock turns into happiness in a matter of second, the door soon being ripped open and almost off its hinges.

before you can fathom what is happening, slender arms wrap around your torso, bringing you close against her body in a tight but gentle squeeze. “last time i checked, you were in france,” comes vanya’s muffled enquiry against the fabric of your jacket, and you giddily return her embrace.

it’s true. you were in france for business purposes, your job bringing you around the world and occassionally to america —— where vanya resides, but of course, you wanted to see her. no matter the distance, it never is too far for you. “i missed you,” is all you said in response, and you felt her smile curves against your neck.

50 WORDLESS WAYS TO SAY “I LOVE YOU.”

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IMAGINES.

AXEL.

x.

BEN HARGREEVES.

x.

LUTHER HARGREEVES.

x.

OSCAR.

x.

OTTO.

x.

HEADCANONS.

DIEGO HARGREEVES.

general.

FIVE HARGREEVES.

general.

SERIES.

50 Wordless Ways To Say "I Love You".

DAY ONE, DAY TWO.

LAST UPDATED: 02/09/2020.

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DAY TWO.

there are days where you would stay awake for diego’s return after his nightly round of being a vigilante and partolling around the neighbourhood. you’re always there, sitting on the bed either on your phone or reading a book with a first aid kit beside you, awaiting for his return and to patch up his wounds if there are any.

but tonight? tonight you’re exhausted beyond belief, falling asleep around one in the morning when he has yet to return, the first aid kit on your bedside table. work drains you of your usual energy, allowing sleep to consume reluctantly despite your nightly routine in staying up for his arrival.

diego doesn’t mind it, the way your lips part halfway as soft snores escape past —— or the way you seem to look so peaceful when you are far off into dreamland. he’s glad that he doesn’t need to patch himself tonight, there is a surprisingly decrease in number of the usual nightly crimes in the neighbourhood, so he can just change and tuck himself beside you.

when he noticed the blanket has slid off your form during the night when you stir, a silent chortle emits from the rugged male, stepping forward to tuck you in properly underneath the blanket to prevent you from catching a cold.

he tucks himself in beside you, a light kiss on your forehead and wraps an arm around your waist to pull you close beside him. his smile widens when you pulls yourself even closer, bodies flushed against each other —— and allows his eyes to fall shut, catching up with you deep into dreamland. 

50 WORDLESS WAYS TO SAY “I LOVE YOU”.

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maybe some headcanons about dating five? i don't need anything specific (just the general ‘what the relationship would be like’) but, have a gender neutral reader, if possible?

i think we need to establish that five is a mildly jealous person when it comes to his significant other.

if he sees just about anyone who looks at you even just for a short glance, or accidental eye contact, he’ll be squaring up his shoulders immediately.

he always brush off your words, though. like him? jealous? ha, that’s funny. no way in hell that he’ll get jealous.

(except he is.)

the way he shows his love for you is through physical touch; five is a man who has a hard time saying his emotions towards someone outrightly, so it’s always through physical touch and his ways of making sure you’re alright.

“have you eaten?”; “are you okay? are you hurt anywhere?” those are ways he show that he loves you without outrightly saying it. fleeting and gentle touches, patching you up with lighthearted lecture more often than not.

he’s not much for pda aside from the hand holdings or arm around your waist, and kisses on the cheeks when no one is looking. but the small physical affections show that he’s taken by you, just as you are taken by him; a loud warning sign to show that you’re off-limits. (see: jealous five.)

in conclusion, he’s a more physical type of guy than verbal.

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Thank you for the Otto cuddles!!! You gave me a much needed serotonin boost! Tvb 💕💕💕

my apologies since it took so long! thank you for requesting 💞

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omg that little ben fic with the wordless ways to say i love you- my heart. it's so cute 😭

thank you so much!! 💞💞 i try to do everyone justice ehe.

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also, do you have a masterlist?

i haven't created one yet, and i sure will soon :)

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DAY ONE.

it had been one of your bad days to the point that it leaves you shaking with anger and exhaustion, hands balling into tight fists and eyes cast down to the ground below you, legs pulled against your chest as you curl into a ball. there is a soft shuffling from outside your door, tentative hums and silent pacing back and forth down the hallway as if hesitant whether or not the individual should knock on the door or not.

you weren’t exactly quiet when you entered your shared apartment with your boyfriend, stomping your way all the way from the entrance to the bedroom, discarding your bag by the door harsher than necessary and slamming the door shut behind you to hide yourself from the world, and completely ignoring the greeting from your boyfriend perched on the kitchen island, eating cereal.

you were too tired to function, too angry at your boss to return his whole-hearted greeting —— and you felt bad, almost, for leaving him hanging like that.

there’s a quiet, dulled sigh, muffled by the door and the slightest of crack from the door causes your fists to ball even tighter if possible. you shake, eyes fixated on the wooden planks beneath you, and you take a sharp inhale in as another wave of vexation courses through your veins.

“hey,” comes ben’s soft voice, penetrating through the wall of indignation you pulled up, walking slowly and keeping mind of his footsteps —— too afraid that if he’s too loud, he’ll work you up further. he takes a seat in front of you and gently pry your hands from the tight balls you’ve created, and held onto them as you continue to shake. 

a shuddering breath escapes you and that simple action is enough to break you, tears finally escaping and cascading down your cheeks. ben’s soft coo reaches your ears as he brings you into a tender embrace, strong arms firmly enveloping you but still gentle, your own personal safe haven.

“it’ll be okay.”

yeah, it will.

50 WORDLESS WAYS TO SAY “I LOVE YOU”.

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Hi hi! Can we have a cuddly Otto imagine? Pretty please? 💕 PS. I loved the Oscar imagine with the plump kitties!! So cute!! 💕💕

fingers card lightly through the soft platinum locks as your boyfriend rests his head on your lap, a blissed out expression across its countenance that makes you bite back a smile; much like a cat’s. the boys have just returned home from another mission, tired and bruised, but still able to express their gratitude as you tend to their wounds, albeit not verbally — still, you know they appreciate it even when they don’t vocalise it.

otto, on the other hand, had laid his head on your lap the moment you sat down with a book, eyes closed and simply snuggling into your stomach. it’s comical; a giant 6′7″ man sprawled out across the couch, legs having to dangle at the arm rest because they simply wouldn’t fit. poor couch has its worse days, i guess.

“you should get to a more comfier place to take a nap, otto,” it’s not like you don’t like it, in fact, you adore it when he is a cuddly mood. believe it or not, beneath all that intimidation and height, he’s just one huge teddy bear.

otto merely hums in response, peeking up at you and your smile widen at the tell-tale sign of a childish pout upon his lips. “i’m plenty comfy here,” is all he said, before he snuggles closer towards your stomach,

a soft sigh emits from you, head shaking in amusement before you resume in reading your book. as much as you would dread the pins and needles that come after his nap, you know it’s plenty worth it if it means peace and his company for just a couple of minutes, or hours.

i swear im not dead. im really sorry for my inactivity!

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oscar.

“don’t tell oscar that i’m giving you extra treats,” you murmur softly, as you hand out a few more treats for the plump cats crowding your feet, and one has made itself comfortable on your lap. you watch with a wide smile as they eat from your hand, some dropping to the floor but that too is snatched by a plump black and white cat.

you thought you are being sneaky, but in fact, it is your lover who is the sneakiest one out of the two — or rather, the four of you; considering his physique, it isn’t hard for him to slip in and out of the shadows unnoticed. you? you are just clumsy.

so when a hand is placed upon your shoulder, you had probably jumped a few feet in the air out of your skin and startling the tabby on your lap, a squeak leaving your mouth. “they are already fat, (y/n),” comes the familiar swedish-accented voice from above your head, your gaze lifting in a guilt-stricken look as you find oscar’s amused one.

“they’re not fat! they’re just ...” another meow interrupts you and you’re looking at three pairs of eyes, all from the same three plump cats you’ve been feeding, collaborative projecting pleading eyes that have you sighing in defeat. “yeah, maybe they’re fat, but they’re cute! full of love!”

oscar merely chuckles as he comes around to pluck the tabby from your lap, replacing its perch on his lap. “fat,” he repeats, the word earning a huff from you. “but cute.” there is a small pause, and the swede turns to look at you with the most serious gaze you’ve seen him with, despite the ghost of a smirk that curves at his lips. “like you.”

your lips part and close, unable to form words at the sudden compliment — red faced, you merely turn back towards the other two cats by your feet. 

hi hi aisling here !! sorry i havent uploaded something yesterday, my muse has been low as shit,, but please send me requests !! the first time, i was an idiot and had forgotten to turn on the asks :clown emoji: but now it’s open !! :) 

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dating diego h. would include:

the protective boyfriend - but not possessive;

as much as he respects your boundaries, diego is the type to be passive-aggressive the moment he sees someone else that is not him flirting with you;

he claims he’s not a jealous boyfriend but he 100% fucking is;

but you always reassure him that there is no one else that you would want to spend your life with;

he’s always so cocky and teasing when you patch him up after he returns home all bloodied and wounded;

“patch me up, doctor.”;

“i will tear a bigger laceration, hargreeves.”;

if you kiss his wounds, he’ll be flustered;

but he loves it;

the protective boyfriend, once again, but this time it’s coming to your rescue when you need it, even if you are a fighter yourself;

he’s always so fussy whenever you get as much as a scratch;

“i’ll kill him.”;

“diego, it’s just a scratch.”;

“i’ll still kill him.”;

meeting his mother first because she’s the one who his heart holds dearest from his family, and you are so nervous in meeting her but she’s so nice and gave you a hug as greeting;

she welcomes you to the family as soon as you meet her;

you totally did not shed a tear;

meeting his siblings is ... well, i should say interesting. they are all different;

you are closest to allison and vanya, though, because they open you with welcome arms;

luther & klaus (and ben) are happy diego finally finds someone, and klaus is a brat that teases diego about it;

five is just ... five. he congratulates diego and disappears to get a cup of coffee;

you accept his siblings, and his siblings and mom accept you, it’s all he can ask for because his family means so much to him even when he doesn’t show it much and well;

he’s fought alone before, but now he’s got a partner in crime with him;

that’s more than he can ask. 

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luther h.

beneath all those muscles and intimidating height, luther has a fairly sensitive soul. despite being in “favour” of his father, he still receives his own end of emotional abuse and trauma - as well as body dysmorphia. and you are very well accustomed with this.

you know those days were he would wear long sleeved shirts even in the scorching heat of the summer, or when he would flinch away from stares coming from passers-by as he ventures down the path, or when he would stare at himself in the mirror with a look you know all too well that is disgust. but he always said that he’s grateful he’s still alive and given a second chance, but is it worth the hatred of one’s own body?

“luther?” you wander through the hallways of your apartment, in search of your ginormous boyfriend. dressed in your best clothes for a date night, you have been waiting for almost an hour for him to get ready. you are patient, of course, but it is almost way past their intial reservation schedule.

you come across his huge form in the bathroom, staring at himself; at the muscles akin to an ape’s staring back at him through the mirror - and you knew. your eyes soften, stepping through the entrance of the bathroom as carefully as you could and place a gentle hand upon his bicep. you offer him a smile, the look reflected in the mirror — reaching his eyes. “let’s order take out instead.”

you can physically see the relief in his eyes, as his shoulders slump at your suggestion. subtly, he leans into your touch; there is conflict in his eyes too. “no, we can go out tonight. you have always wanted to go to that restaurant, don’t you?”

“mm, not really,” you hum and rest your head against his upper arm, idly tracing through the soft locks of hair adorning his arm. then, you rest your chin upon his arm, smiling up at him as he meets your eyes. “we can go some other time. i want you all to myself tonight.”

soon, he returns your smile and nods, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “i love you,” comes the whispered confession.

you tilt your head up lightly and leans on your tiptoes, catching his lips with yours. no words are needed to be said.

“i love you too.”

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ben h.

the last time you saw him was the night before he was sent on a dangerous mission, unknowingly his last mission. when you waited that night for him to return and there was no sign of him, you told yourself that maybe he was tired after his mission and returned home to rest — so you slept your worries away.

but as nights continue to go by and there was no sign of your boyfriend, you took matters into your own hands and tracked down the brother you knew is closest to ben.

and the news you heard that you have dreaded every night became a reality; ben hargreeves has died on his last mission. he was 20. 

klaus left the academy and you locked yourself in your apartment, crying your eyes out to the point of redness and lack of sleep — too devastated to sleep; you wished this is all just a nightmare that you’d wake up to, and ben will be right there through the phone to comfort you like he always does.

but this isn’t a nightmare. this is reality.

once in a while you would check in on klaus, watched on as his life deteriorates  right in front of your very own eyes as he succumbs to drugs and alcohol. you try to help, you really do, but even in this state you’re not really helpful.

“i love you,” you whispered, in front of a grave that holds his body — eyes staring up into his carved ones, the usual light and mischief replaced with a dull, dark colour. “i hate that i can’t stop loving you.”

in the distance, the figure clad in all black, hands tucked into his pocket, watched as the love of his life shed another tear before they turn their back on his statue and stalked out of the academy — and he, too, shed a tear of his own.

“i hate that i can’t stop loving you either.”

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axel.

as the bed groans beside you, the sound of feet shuffling against the wooden floor, you vageuly make out the shadow of a tall man in your peripheral vision; moving through the shadows of the ungodly hour of dawn as quiet as the darkness.

you shift slightly under the covers, snuggling into the lingering warmth of the now vacant space that your lover usually occupies beside you, and the figure stops momentarily. tiredly, between the spectrum of awake and asleep, the corners of your lips tug up —— “having to go soon?” you ask, voice still groggy with sleep.

there is a brief pause, then another set of shuffling. you manage to make out the outline of your lover’s physique as he leans down beside your side of the bed, kneeling on the cold wooden floor below. gentle fingers gingerly brush across your forehead, moving away the strands of hair that had fallen on your face in your sleep, and your smile widens.

“be careful,” you murmur, still half-asleep. quietly, the figure leans forward and delivers a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. you hum, and leans forward at the lingering petals against your skin.

“go back to sleep, älskling,” comes the soft rumble of the swedish assassin beside you, his hand warm against your cheek. “we will be back by dinner.”

you hum again, shifting once more to slide a hand atop his, “mhm. tell oscar and otto to be careful too. don’t want blood everywhere like last time.” there is a chuckle from axel, and his hand slides off slowly as if hesitant to leave you. “see you later.”

a hum from him. “see you later, älskling.”