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The Umbrella Academy when they're in trouble:

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Just imagine this really sparkling text saying ‘apocalypse’ with stars and glitter all over it levitating between Five’s hands

(I didn’t know how to draw it) I tried

So, I’m probably going to draw something from Over the garden wall, not really sure what tho

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does any body want to ttalk about the character

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One of the coolest parts about being a fan of fanfic is you can actually contact the author. And they will respond. And then you can message them nonstop until they allow you into their lives and then you’re becoming their beta reader and suddenly you know multiple authors of all types of fiction books and fanfic authors who will drag out their deleted fics for you to read at a moments notice.

Anyway. Comment on fics and message authors. It’s absolutely worth it.

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Why are you problematic

just for fun

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She’s the only one of you I actually trust. Her and the floating idiot. That’s Miiiiiister Floating Idiot. "☕️🪓🎩💀🖤" + "🍸💄👑✨️💛"

↪ AIDAN GALLAGHER and ROBERT SHEEHAN as FIVE & KLAUS HARGREEVES in THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY (2019-2024)

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April snip drop number three. Is this was artist feel like when they post their doodle dumps? That's essentially what I'm doing. :)

This is another Howling snip, this one takes place, like all my snips, in the future. This one is during the rescue of Five from the hotel. As with all things Howling, work in progress, subject to change. You know the drill.

Another snip Another snip

...

He was so thin.

It was the only thing Diego could think at first, staring at Five for the first time in six months. He was ghastly thin, the bones of his elbows poking out harshly, his collar bones were sharp ridges below deep gaps. His cheeks were sunken, a heavy darkness around his eyes that looked like bruising. His hair was longer but looked like it had been haphazardly chopped at some point. It didn’t look like it had been washed or brushed in weeks, mats and knots clumping the thicker parts of it.

Worse was the way he stared at Diego’s knife, turning it over and over in oil slicked fingers like he couldn’t believe he had it.

“Hey, you,” Diego said gently, hoping it would bring those feral eyes to him.

It worked, bloodshot green snapping to him in an instant.

“It’s good to see you,” Diego said carefully. “Though it looks like you’ve seen better days.” There was a pale yellow tube taped to one side of his face. It disappeared up into his nose one way and down below the collar of his shirt, another piece of tape keeping it in place on his collarbones. .

Five didn’t answer him, staring intently, unblinking. Diego stepped toward him, having to take a large step over a downed robot to do it. The knife in Five’s hand immediatly shifted, the tip pointing toward him.

Diego put his hands up to show he wasn’t holding anything. “Yeah I figured you’d be pretty mad at me. What I did to you was... it was wrong."

Five blinked, some of the tension leaving his shoulders instantly. “I know,” he croaked. The knife was still pointed in his direction, but it had dropped a fraction.

Diego looked at the bodies around them, oil staining the carpet where one had been cut down by Five. “You just fought like hell,” and still he looked like he’d been losing repeatedly. Diego didn’t know if he should take the knife or let Five keep it. There was something deeply unstable about him that made Diego want it. “Why don’t you give me that and we can get out of here.”

“I’ll keep this,” Five said, a weird cadence to the way he spoke that he’d never had before. 

Diego reached the for the knife, Five moved as if to defend himself, quick as lightning, faster than Diego thought possible, he sliced for his throat. Instinct saved Diego, deflecting his own knife with the force of his power, sending it shooting off into another direction. Five watched it go, a strangled noise tumbling out of his mouth. He flinched back when Diego grabbed his bandaged wrapped arm.

The next second Five struck again, the flat of his palm finding Diego’s windpipe. He wheezed and choked, letting Five go to double over and defend himself. Five didn’t strike again, turning on his heal and shooting off down the hall at full sprint.

“W-wait!” Diego wheezed after him, eyes watering from the pain.

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April showers (snips) brings May flowers (inspiration).

This one is a Howling snip for wayyy way in the future, after Five gets rescued and they're all living together while Five tries to heal. As with all things Howling, this is not a final product and is subject to change.

Another snip

...

The nasty comment that slipped out of his lips silenced the room. Instantly, all faces turned to him, eyes watching. His heart lurched in his chest, shoulders rising unconsciously. He shouldn’t have said anything. He’d been quiet this whole time but he just had to let one slip. He already couldn’t remember what he’d said. Their eyes on him stripped him to the bone. 

Stupid stupid little thing he was. The porter would have hit him for that; his siblings probably wanted to hit him for that. Viktor moved before the others, rising from his chair, arms loose at his sides, something troubling furrowing his brow. Diego was the first to look away. He was always the first to look away. Allison sighed, pulling air as deeply into her body as she could, searching for the patience to deal with him. 

Viktor took slow and steady steps toward him, trouble on his face but Five could tell it wasn’t anger. He couldn’t tell what it was but he was getting too close, hands still loose as his sides, but Five was no fool. His jaw clenched hard, shoulders near his ears and his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He wasn't sure what his face was doing but it couldn’t have anything good. Luther made a half-aborted move to rise from his own place on the couch, the movement catching Five’s attention. He’d protect Viktor certainly, just like the goon protected the porter, no matter what that meant for Five.

Viktor kept lowering his stance for every step, until he was crouched in front of Five, careful of all his movements, smooth and slow and easy to follow. Viktor raised one hand toward him, Five’s body moving of its own accord, caught in jittery limbo between flinching back and being afraid to miss where the blow would come from. Five didn’t dare move, Luther would snap him in half, Viktor would beat him senseless, hand raised to hit him, hit him hit him–

Gently, almost feathery at first, Viktor hand came to rest on his upper arm. It was warm, the touch instantly making his heart lurch again, but differently from the blackening fear that had consumed him. This was instant, butterflies exploding in his stomach, his head suddenly filled with effervescent bubbles. His heart crawled up his throat to choke him, face burning, eyes blurred, his mind wiped blank, he struggled to remember the apology word. His mouth was too dry and throat too tight to speak anyway. 

“It’s okay, Five,” Viktor said, in that way that he could make his whispers so loud. “You’re home, you’re safe. You’re with us.” His hand moved slowly down Five’s arm, and then back up again, a warm solid pressure that crumbled him down to the raw wounded nerve. He felt his tears run molten hot down his burning cheeks, entire body trembling under his brother’s soothing touch.

“S-sorry,” he managed to croak out, unable to look at Viktor. He knew the fear was silly now, but he still waited to be struck. Would that be what he deserved.

“You know, it’s a really nice day out right now, why don���t we go watch some birds? Do you want to walk–”

Five shook his head, tears falling onto the clenched fingers in his lap. 

“Alright, why doesn’t Luther get your chair.”

Luther moved the instant he was called into action, jumping up and then seeming to remember himself and went to sit again. He aborted that halfway through, stood up straighter, and marched for the wheelchair parked in the corner of room.

Despite himself, despite the way his muscle refused to relax and tears streamed unbidden down his face, watching Luther made him smile. Only he moved like that, because this was really Luther. The touch on his arm was firm and grounding and always gentle, a slow rhythmic up and down that slowly made his shoulders drop and his chest loosen.

Five got himself into his wheelchair without help. Viktor only drew his hand back to get himself in position behind Five’s chair. He pushed the back of it with his hips so one hand could rest easily on Five’s shoulder.

Down the hall and out the door, spring was in full swing outside. Birds swooped between trees and bees bumbled through the grass looking for flowers. One of the crystal doodads Klaus had hung on the eaves of the house was catching the sun and scattering little flecks of rainbows on the walls.

“Sun or shade?” Viktor asked softly, near right next to his ear.

Five gestured to the shade in the porch. He’d gotten quite a bit of sun earlier. Viktor wheeled him over to his parking space next to the bench, sitting down beside him and offering him his hand. “You’re gonna be okay,” he said, and it struck Five that Viktor was reassuring himself of that, too.

He nodded, squeezing the hand in his. He would be okay, for them.

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So, I know I haven't been super active lately, but it's April and that's my new year, and that means I'm going to celebrate by posting some TUA things I've written.

...

“I don’t know where you get the patience for this.”

Luther looked ridiculous with his little reader glasses and his shoulders hunched up as he read. “It’s got to be done, Five.”

“Can’t you just write in there that I’m happy and shit.”

“Tony said the judge wanted you to write about your life.”

“I have nothing to write about.” It felt sour to say it. World class survivalist and assassin and he’d been reduced to nothing. 

Luther sighed. “I know you haven’t been feeling good lately.” It was merely the gentle tone that Luther took that made Five bristle. 

“I’m fine,” he snapped. 

Luther gave him a hard look over the top of his glasses. “Write about the good days.”

“What good days?” It felt like forever since he’d had just a neutral day. Really it had only been a week and a half according to the stupid mood journal Klaus was keeping for him. Nothing bad had happened, he was just moody and angry and unfortunately sober.

“Puberty,” Klaus kept saying. 

“It’s winter,” Luther would suggest. “That sort of thing affects a lot of people.” It was true that the first time it snowed, Five had had an all consuming flashback and spent hours walking around the city in a daze. He was soaked through and freezing by the time his siblings found him and he still hadn’t quite had the thought that it was snow and not ash.

It was an all-hands-on-deck emergency because Allison and Viktor showed up the next day from across the country to coddle him while he came down with the one of the worst colds of his life. Viktor still asks how he’s feeling when they talk on the phone. It’d be cute if it didn’t make Five feel so childish. 

Thankfully it hadn’t snowed much this winter, and when it did he simply avoided all the windows. It hadn’t snowed the whole time he hadn’t felt well. Not that he wasn’t feeling fine, he was, a little down, a little spacey. It was hard to focus when there was nothing to focus on, his life turning hazy and obscure around him.

“Five,” Luther said a little sharply, getting his attention. His face softened when Five finally looked at him, something sad in his eyes. He reached and pulled the pen and paper toward himself and away from Five. “We have time to do this later, alright? Are you tired?” He looked away, down at the paper that Five had written a few measly sentences on already.

“I’m fine,” but now that he realized he’d zoned out, he was suddenly drained. He wondered how many times Luther had said his name before he heard him. He kept doing that, zoning out and getting lost and having to be shaken back to life by one of his siblings.

“Are you happy?” Luther blurted out, reading the one line of text on the page.

“I have everything I’ve ever asked for,” his brain was just too broken to handle the quiet anymore.

“I know,” Luther said doubtfully. He looked up at Five. “You know we want you to be happy, right?”

“Yeah,” he just wasn’t sure he was still capable of the real thing anymore. He flicked his hand out toward Luther. “I’ll think about it and write more later.”

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Mr Pennycrumb & the Boy 💕

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Stabbed! A short comic

made for an anthology awhile ago

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These exist. The problem is that these characters are usually called the villains.

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The magpie who fishes stars

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My friend sent me this with a "this made me think of you."

I feel so seen.

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The Umbrella Academy Season 4 (Deleted Scene)

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new name