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#allison hargreeves
planetumbeerella · a day ago
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Allison: What's your daily intake of coffee, between one and three?
Five: Eight cups
Allison: Eight cups a day?
Five: No, eight cups between one and three
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the-mercenary-guy · 2 days ago
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Five: Painkillers are the “Mute Notifications” for your body.
Allison: Go to sleep.
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estelinhabb · a day ago
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God, five really is the only one whose got his shit straight. There's an apocalypse god dammit, if you don't focus on that everything else is gonna die as well, ur loved ones too. So priority should always be the apocalypse.
Shout out to Klaus wanting to save Dave's life is the long term as well, faves being faves.
And Allison too, u go girl, u go Ray
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galaxy-blue · 2 days ago
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Luther: Allison, what are you doing?
Allison: Making chocolate pudding.
Luther: It's four in the morning, why are you making chocolate pudding?
Allison: Because I've lost control of my life.
Allison: Here's your pudding, Klaus .
Klaus: Oh that's okay, I'm not hungry anymore.
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hargreef · 23 hours ago
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Hello I was the one who asked if you took writing prompts. I have one about tua if you're I terested. So my prompt is that show!allison and five are out in town in the 60s like in the second season. And so they decide to go to a cafe for lunch but after five goes in the door the owner won't let allison in because it's whites only. Five gees ballistic threatening to burn the while please down if they don't let her in. Sorry if it's long ❤
hi anon !! thank you for the prompt :) 
i hope you enjoy!!! (im sorry if its not completely accurate, i sort of ran away with the idea and it did its own thing)
“This is where you work,” Five states bluntly, craning his neck to read the ‘ladies beauty parlor’ sign displayed above the entrance to the salon. He stuffs his hands in his pockets once he’s finished observing, choosing to squint through the windows instead. “Huh. Nice place.”
Allison purses her lips to hide a smile as she watches him, arms folded across her chest. “It is. It’s a good place to work. Good people to be with.”
“At least you weren’t alone,” Five replies, humming in satisfaction. He says it more as a statement rather than an empathetic musing, tightly content with that knowledge as if it were a certified fact rather than a sweet concern. “Best to surround yourself with people when you’re stuck in time.” He clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth together in that way he always does when he’s trying to say something sensitive. “I’m glad you found good company to be with.”
Allison ducks her head, somehow resisting the strong urge to wrap him in a hug. As tender as the moment is, she refuses to ruin it by initiating physical contact and result in that stand-offish, closed off demeanour he exerts when anyone attempts to be touchy with him.
Instead she knocks his shoulder with her elbow, arms still crossed with a smile on her face. “Thanks, Five. I am too.”
He nods curtly, straightening out his blazer awkwardly. He stays looking through the window to focus his gaze somewhere, avoiding her eyes as he peers at the salon workers doing their jobs. It seems to fascinate him, and it strikes Allison all of a sudden how foreign the concept must be to someone who has spent their entire life surrounded with ash.
“I’ve never been in a hair . . . store,” he says, clearly away with his own thoughts as he takes in the sight in front of him. “A salon, I mean.”
“Well, this is for women’s hair,” Allison tells him, with a wink. “I’m sure we can find barbers for you somewhere if you want a cut.” She studies him for a moment. “I don’t really think you need one, though.”
“I can cut my own hair,” Five says, sounding almost insulted at the suggestion he would allow someone else to do that task for him. “I always cut my own hair.”
“I know,” Allison threads carefully. “But, y’know. You don’t have to anymore.”
“I want to,” Five says defiantly, and Allison quickly realises she’s not going to get anywhere with this conversation. Five can be a brick wall, at times, and perhaps it’s so often due to his instilled habits from a lifetime of being so alone, but she knows this is something to bring up another time, when both of them have the patience for it.
“Why don’t we go grab some lunch?” She suggests, instead. “You must be hungry.”
He looks as if he’s going to refuse her offer, but as if on cue his stomach rumbles loudly, completely disputing whatever lie had been about to make its way out of his mouth.
She smirks. “Coulda’ fooled me.”
“Shut up,” he says with a scowl, but there’s no bite in his voice. He follows her along as she steps past him to continue their tour down the street, the hot sixties sun a reverent glare in their sight as they do so. It’s warm with a cool breeze, gentle sways of the city trees backgrounding their stroll.
They make their way in silence, Five deep in his thoughts as he bobs along quietly beside her like a very short, very stiff shadow. Each passer-by offers a strange look or double-take, the striking difference between the two of them painfully pigmented in correlation to their current debut in this timeline.
Five doesn’t appear to notice, and if he does he says nothing about it, striding casually by her side as if they were back at home and sauntering downtown. Allison isn’t sure if that’s due to his general lack of social awareness, or lack of racial knowledge, or lack of giving a fuck, in which realistically it could be all three, but she doesn’t question it as they go.
Her brother is a strange man. A strange child in so many ways, but Allison has learnt its best not to question him in some things.
Five stops abruptly outside a small café with a soft blue exterior and a bell above the entrance. A white bike with flowers in the basket is on display beside the window. It’s very sweet and simple.
“This seems like a you place,” he says, with a small nod. It’s surprisingly considerate of him to select somewhere he imagines would cater to her tastes rather than his own, but then again Five probably never sits and has food in a café other than Griddy’s, so she supposes he’s not exactly picky.
“It’s nice,” she tells him, smiling in appreciation. He looks sort of proud for a moment for having chosen correctly, which she absolutely cannot deny is awfully adorable. The way he tries to hide his pleased smile is very endearing, and so very Five. Her heart thumps with warmth and love for her smallest brother, suddenly, in a bare moment of gratitude that doesn’t come often when she engages with his prickly self.
He pulls at the door handle, eyes shooting up at the jingling bell momentarily before he swings it open and steps aside for her. “Shall we?”
“Let’s,” she says, waving him off with the gentleman act. She doesn’t even think to check before stepping in, purse in hand and smile on her face, which is quickly transitioned into gut-churning frustration when every head sitting down turns to stare at her.
Five doesn’t notice the automatic tension at her presence, following her with breezy ease and still fiddling with his blazer. “Where to?” He says, glancing around for an empty booth as if this is an everyday task for him. Nevermind the blatant glares from every single person here, this entire setting is relatively rare for Five, the concept of sitting down casually for a meal a faraway occasion Allison can imagine he indulges in once in a blue moon, so of course the last thing he’s going to notice is the gaunt stares of every diner sat at every seat.
Nonetheless, she hesitantly backs away, eyes darting to the sign just above the countertop. WHITES ONLY.
“Fuck,” she hisses, turning around. She nudges at her brother standing behind her, now totally confused at her change in demeanour, and gently tries to usher him back out the door. “Come on, we’ll find somewhere else.”
Naïve, and slightly ignorant, Five frowns and refuses her guidance. “What? Why? Just go sit down. There’s loads of tables. “
“Five, I can’t,” she says, quietly, conscious of the attention drawn to her and her every move. “I can’t be here. We need to go.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Five says, surprisingly forward as he tugs at her wrist and pulls her along to an empty booth. He must have noticed the stares by now, but simply ignores them as he hauls her along and practically shoves her into a seat. He settles in comfortably opposite her, straightening up as he does so.
“See?” He says, as if it isn’t excruciatingly prominent how everybody is looking at them.
Uncomfortable and anxious in her seat, Allison takes a deep breath. “Five, I’m serious. This is dangerous for me, okay?”
“I’m sitting right here,” Five says with a raised brow. “Nothing is dangerous with me here.”
“And I believe that,” Allison says quickly, noticing the uniformed waiter approaching them with a scowl on his face. “But this isn’t that simple, okay? We’ll just find somewhere else.”
Before Five can respond, the waiter arrives within reach to the table and points to the door, a cruel snarl on his face. “You,” he gestures at Allison, tone dark and grated. “Out. Now.”
“What the hell?” Five says, aghast. “We literally just got here.”
“You can stay,” the waiter says, coldly, before he nods towards Allison and points once again to the door. “You get out. We don’t serve black folk here.”
This grabs Five’s attention. “You don’t what?”      
“Five, it's fine.” Allison clutches her purse like a lifeline and makes a move to step out of the booth. Five’s foot stretches out from under the table and halts her in her step, blocking her from exiting as he continues to stare at the waiter with a murderous frown.
“It’s not ‘fine’ Allison,” he snarls, interlocking his fingers on the table in an act of displaying his means of staying for a while. It’s clear he has no intentions of leaving any time soon, and the waiter locks his jaw, impatient.
“Get out, or I’m calling the police,” he snaps, in a very no-nonsense tone that indicates he won’t argue this further. “I’m damn serious, girl. Get up, and get out. Go find food with your own kind.”
Mortified, Allison once again attempts to depart from the booth. Five’s leg doesn’t stop her this time but his entire body does, blinking rapidly into place right in front of her to keep her in her seat.
The waiter jumps back, completely startled at this fucking barbaric party trick. “The hell?”
“Speak to her like that again,” Five snarls, squaring his shoulders and turning his nose up. “Do it.”
“Five—” Allison tries again.
“No, Allison,” Five spits, evidently furious at this point. The waiter is still somewhat in shock at what he’s just witnessed, and most likely the rest of the café too considering they’re watching this unfold like it’s a TV show, and he stumbles backwards for a minute in a weak attempt to process it.
“You talk to her like that again and I will skin you inside out,” Five hisses, eyes flashing in rage as he stands protectively in front of her. “Christ, you people are assholes.”
The waiter, over his moment of shock, leans down to sneer in Five’s face. “If you don’t get your filthy acquaintance out of this diner in the next two minutes, I’ll drag her out myself.”
“You lay a hand on my sister and I will burn this place down,” Five threatens lowly, voice dropping about eight octaves in tone with the darkness of its intentions, the veins in his neck protruding from where he’s tensing with aggravation. Flustery crawls in red blotches up his neck, fingers trembling from where he stands seething with fury.
“Let’s go, Five,” Allison places her hands on his shoulders from where he’s blocking her, attempting desperately to get past him and out of this stupid café. “It’s not worth it.”
“You think I’m kiddin’ around?” The waiter challenges, standing up to his full height and addressing Allison once again with his eyes, disgust clear as day on his face as he looks her up and down.
“I think you better have half a goddamn brain to think twice about pulling any bullshit while I’m standing right here,” Five sneers, and Allison nearly swears she can see sweat sheening on his forehead.
“In that case,” the waiter smiles cruelly, cracking a knuckle before he reaches behind Five and yanks at Allison’s arm, hauling her so roughly out of the booth that she trips in her step, stumbling along as he pinches her skin with the forceful grip.  
And Five sees red.
“Let go of her you fucking imbecile!” He roars, reaching blindly behind him on instinct to snatch a butter knife from the cutlery holder in the middle of the table. He blinks into place onto the waiters back, locking an arm around his neck and jerking him backwards until he crumples to the floor, choking spastically in his grip. His clutch on Allison is quickly released as he attempts to unwind from Five’s serious hold, twisting this way and that as he tries to free himself.
“Five!” Allison shouts, heart racing manically. She can almost feel the reaction behind her, understanding all too well who could be on their way right now. Her suspicion of interference is justified as she takes a glance behind her, stomach churning at the other uniformed waiters making their way over.
“Five, get off of him, we need to go!” She yells, although it proves to be of no use considering Five clearly plays by his own rules and has no means of listening to her.
“Rumour these assholes!” He yells back, flat on his own back as he continues to choke the waiters red, puffing face. “Stop being a goddamn saint and use your power!”
“No, Five!” Allison backs away from the approaching waiters, unable to resist grabbing a knife herself although it’s not as if she’s intending on using it. Not by any means like Five has, having already stabbed the damn thing in the waiters ribs, flourishing as the man howls in pain.
Outnumbered and cornered, Allison kicks gently enough at Five’s shoulder from his sprawl on the floor, alerting him into shoving said waiter off his front and coming to a rumpled stance himself, positively all over the place. His hair doesn’t beat the wild in his eyes, but he looks borderline animalistic as he once again throws himself in front of Allison, butter knife dripping blood from his hands.
“You assholes touch her and this entire building is coming down,” he spits at all of them, who have halted at the sight of the knife and their colleague jerking on the floor. “I swear to every goddamn Deity in the sky I will blow this place up.”
It’s then that one of the waiters pulls out a fucking shotgun.
“Five,” Allison says, panicked. She jostles him from where he’s backing up closer to her. “Five, we need to go!”
“Fuck, alright,” he hisses, snatching up her wrist. He pauses briefly to flip off everyone in the café like the cheeky bastard he is before he blinks them out of there, reinstating them at the telephone box right across the street. Feeling as if she’s going to hurl, Allison leans over with a gag, stomach weak from either that entire ordeal or the jump, she isn’t sure.
“Fuck, Five,” she hisses, after managing barely a spit on the ground. She straightens up, covering her face with her hands as she processes everything that just happened. “What the fuck was that?”
Five pants aggressively on the spot, still glaring at the café despite being all the way across the street from it. “Assholes,” he spits. “Fucking pricks.”
“Yes, Five, welcome to racism,” Allison scoffs, sarcasm dripping from her voice like the gushing blood from that goddamn butter knife. “Yeah, it’s shitty, but unfortunately that’s the world we live in!”
“I don’t understand it,” Five snarls. “And I don’t want to understand. I refuse to understand. I’m—how dare they—”
“I know you’re angry,” Allison grasps his shoulders. “I know, I’m angry too. But we need to get somewhere safe, okay? Can you blink us home? Back to my house?”
“I’m sorry,” Five mutters, without moving an inch. His eyes are blank when he redirects his gaze to her face. “I’m sorry, Allison.”
She’s not sure what exactly he’s apologising for; attempting fucking murder at that stupid café, getting them stuck in the fucking sixties, or just for the fact the world is a cruel, nasty place that involves the sick, twisted concept of racism. In hindsight, Five has apologised for a lot of things, which she’s coming to the slow and wobbly understanding that aren’t entirely his fault.
She knows her brother would die to protect her. She knows he would die to protect all of them. Hell, he would die two times over, gut himself bone-deep and tear apart his own insides if it meant that his family would be okay. Five is a goddamn war machine, and not even the end of the world could stop him from saving the ones he loves.
It’s remarkable how she often fails to recognise that. Five has and will continue to do everything in his power to protect his family, and if that includes beating up a racist waiter in the 1960’s, then so be it.
“It’s fine,” she murmurs. It is fine. It’s not enough, and she needs to say more, he needs to hear more—but she will tell him later. They will rest, and she will make him something sweet and she will tell him how grateful she is to have him in her life. He will scoff and pretend like he doesn’t have feelings, but there will be a twinkle in his eye and a twitch in his lips and she will hug him and tell him she loves him so.
She will do all of those things later. For now, she squeezes his shoulders. “Get us home, okay?”
He clasps at her wrists at his shoulders, squeezing her back. His eyes tell more than his mouth ever has.
He nods. “Yeah. I’ll get us home.”
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sad3girl · 10 months ago
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the only show that is allowed to have its characters call each other 'sis' and 'bro' is the umbrella academy because not a single hargreeves knows how families work
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awanqi · a year ago
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Umbrella Academy sketch dump!! I love this show
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feralnumberfive · 5 months ago
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The Hargreeves as funny posts I came across on Tumblr
Luther:
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Diego:
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Allison:
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Klaus:
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Five:
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Ben: 
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Vanya:
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prettyteenvamp · a year ago
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Face it, the healthiest long-term relationship in this family was when Five was banging that mannequin.
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