#last-words-luther

[maddsmallow]

hiiii dbh people, just gonna casually slide up in here 5 years post-game release to fill in some of the kara fam appreciation void hee hoo 🤪

references under the cut

https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/dancing-woman-twirls-under-a-mans-arm-outdoors-royalty-free-image/97534722

and uh well here’s where i’d put the stock image of a kid on their dad’s shoulders that i used as a ref and also the pic i ref’d for kara and luther’s hands but. i cannot find them despite going thru my history and trying to re-look up what i searched so. rip me i guess

consider supporting me on ko fi! /maddmsmallow

[goodmorningbaltimore]

I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough can you see the stars. -Martin Luther King

[baekhyunsbestie]

When you get this, list 5 songs you like to listen to, publish (or just write the names of the songs) then send this to your favorite mutuals <3

luna my sweet baby angel !!!!! 🥹🩷 ty for sending the ask hehe these are my faaaaaave songs rn literally on repeat LMFAO

[rotzaprachim]

reading retrospective 2023: extremely thick and unexpectedly gripping general histories 

[hihomeghere]

Carousel Club | Five Hargreeves / Reader

Word Count : 3k Summary : After being dropped into 1963, you find work at the Carousel Club as a dancer. While following a tip where Luther could be, Five sees your routine. Overwhelmed by jealousy he sneaks into your dressing room. (I do not own the umbrella academy or any of it's characters.) Warnings/Tags : Smut, cursing, piv, men being sexist (its the 1960s what do you expect?) dom!Five, Aged up!Five. A little bit of angst. Not requested.

You always trusted your husband. He was your constant in a very fucked up world. You knew he would never purposely harm you, or put you in harm's way. Sometimes that meant following him through time and space, other times it meant trusting him to not burn your dinner. So when he said he had a way out of the mess you and your in-laws had caused, of course you trusted him wholeheartedly. 

You grasped Five’s hand tightly in your own, feeling a sense of deja-vu from the last time you two tried to spacial jump. Diego gingerly held your other hand, you looked up at him giving him a curt nod. He returned the nod before looking around at the rest of his siblings. You raised your eyes to the gaping hole in the ceiling, the intricate details of the theater framing the crumbling moon. Five squeezed your hand, drawing your attention back to him. You gave him a reassuring smile, well as reassuring as you could.

Electricity crackled around the seven of you, wind whipping your hair in front of your face. Five’s grip on your hand was almost crushing, like you were his lifeline. A giant blue orb of energy appeared above your family, growing and glowing. Five strained under the pressure, his face contorting into a pained expression. The blue light enveloped you all, flickering and pulsing. 

“Hold on! It’s gonna get messy!” Five yelled as the ground shook beneath you, shutting your eyes tightly you felt yourself being pulled away from Five and Diego. You only had a moment of panic before you were thrown to the ground.

You groaned sitting up, the blue light of energy blinding you. You raised your hand shielding your eyes.

“Five!” You yelled as you got to your feet. As fleeting as the orb had appeared it disappeared, as though someone had turned an old tv off. Was that a flash, or just your imagination? You shook your head, taking in your surroundings. No Five, no siblings, no briefcase. Where the hell were you? 

You wandered down the alleyway to the main street. Your hip twinged in pain after taking the brunt of your fall. You looked around the street, the lampposts and storefront neon signs were your only light source. You sank down on a bench, letting out a deep sigh. Your eyes wandered to a newsrack, you quickly got to your feet. You ran to it, holding the sides of the glass case. 

August 1st, 1963. Dallas, Texas.

Your heart leapt into your throat. Damn it, Five. Shit, Alison. God, where were the rest of Five’s siblings?

“Honey, are you alright?” A soft voice asked, you turned your head sharply. You were met by a sweet woman’s face, big blond hair and bangs. She had a cardigan wrapped tightly around herself as she reached out to touch your shoulder. You shook your head, still coming to terms with the last five minutes. “Come on, I’m just about to go get something to eat, why don’t you join me?” She said, smiling sweetly.

“I-” You cleared your throat, “I don’t have any money.” You said, shaking your head. “Well then my treat.” She said helping you to your feet. You followed the woman down the streets of Dallas to a quaint diner. You sat down across from her, taking a look over the menu. People chattered mindlessly around you as you came to terms with your situation.

“I’ve seen that look before.” She said, setting her menu down on the table. 

“What look?” You said furrowing your eyebrows.

“That look. Every girl I work with has had that same look.” She huffed thanking the waiter as he set down a coffee cup in front of her. “Small girl in the big city, not knowing where you’re gonna stay or what you’re gonna eat. Believe me, I’ve seen that look before because I’ve felt that before.” She said reaching across the table, taking your hand in hers. “So what’s your story, sweetheart?” You took a breath, choosing your next words carefully.

“My husband and I got separated.” You whispered, “My parents didn’t agree with our marriage and so we ran away. He was supposed to meet me here in Dallas but he didn’t show.” You said, not technically a lie, Five was supposed to be here with you.

“Oh dear,” She tsked, “well you do not have to worry about that anymore. I’m so glad I found you! You can stay with me until you get back on your feet.” You smiled, hopefully Five wouldn’t make you wait much longer. 

“Thank you…” You trailed off, realizing you hadn’t caught her name.

“Autumn.” She answered, holding out her hand for you to shake.

“I’m Y/n.” You smiled, taking her hand.

“You know Y/n, I could put in a good word for you with my boss. He may seem a bit rough around the edges, but we’re always short staffed.” She shrugged. Whatever the job was you would only have it for hopefully a week tops before Five caught up with you, along with his siblings.

“I appreciate it Autumn.” You smiled, patting her hand.

-

When you arrived at Autumn's place of work you wondered if you were a little over your head. You followed Autumn into the back entrance of the nightclub. You passed by many half dressed women, putting on their makeup and outfits. 

“This way sweetheart!” Autumn called, you picked up your pace following her through the dressing room. Once on the main floor of the club you were greeted by the intense smell of cigars. Autumn had all but disappeared, you wandered through the tables. Trying to work your way to the front of the club, while also trying to avoid the men’s wandering hands at the tables. 

“Y/n!” She called from a table, you turned your head. The club was familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You were face to face with Jack Ruby, the man who would put the hit out on Lee Harvey Oswald. You gulped, straightening your shoulders you walked over to them.

“Mr. Ruby, this is Y/n she’s looking for a job.” Autumn said, clasping her hands together. Jack looked you over, a cigar dangling from his lips. 

“Y/n who?” He said leaning back in his chair. You stuttered but only for a second.

“Y/n L/n,” You said with a smile, Hargreeves might get Five or your in-laws in trouble if anyone here caught wind of that name. He puffed his cigar, leaning over to whisper something to the man next to him. He chuckled before nodding, you bit your cheek. Feeling like a piece of meat in front of these men.

“Can you start tonight?” He said, lacing his fingers together. 

“Of course.” You replied, Autumn cheered quietly beside Mr. Ruby.

“Autumn, be a dear and show her the dressing rooms. Tell ‘em I want Miss Y/n to be on stage by tomorrow night.” He said motioning with his cigar in hand. On stage? You turned sharply looking toward the stage of the nightclub, scantily clad women fanning themselves with large feather fans. 

“Yes sir Mr. Ruby!” Autumn giggled, taking your arm and walking you towards the back.

-

You sat in front of your vanity, lined by bright golden bulbs. Brushing glitter onto your eyes before adding your long eyelashes. It had been three months since you had taken on your new job, along the way you had made many friends. You felt for all the girls alongside you, it was a rough profession but it paid well. You pulled your robe close around your body, walking over to the clothing rack. You rifled through the sheer jeweled fabric before your eyes landed on the black and white body suit. You threw your outfit over your arm heading back to your vanity. You were greeted by a beautiful bouquet of red roses, Autumn standing next to them with a coy smile.

“Autumn! Who are these from?”

“A secret admirer,” she cooed her bright red lips pulling back into a smile, “Just teasing! It’s from all of us girls here,” She said as she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. Her cheap perfume floods your senses along with her sweet sweat.

“Y’all didn’t have to do that!” You smiled as she pulled away, she only waved you off.

“You’re one of the best here! Don’t know where you learned all your little tricks.” She said bumping your elbow with her own. She looked down at your costume in your arms. “Need help?” Autumn asked, holding out her hand. 

“Yes please.” You said handing her your suit as you lowered your robe. You held onto her shoulders stepping into the suit, you adjusted your straps as Autumn tightened your corset. You admired yourself in the mirror, since taking on your new job you had become more toned. More than when you had worked at the commission, and these clothes were definitely more flattering than your blue suits you used to wear. You took in a sharp breath as Autumn pulled through the last loops, tying the ribbon with a neat bow.

“Alright sister, you’re ready.” She said squeezing your shoulders.

“Thanks Autumn, now go take your break!” You said waving her off. 

“Y/n! You’re on next!” Shannon called from the stage door. You nodded, quickly stopping to smell the sweet scent of your roses before grabbing your tulle skirt. You tied it around your waist as you walked backstage. You picked up your red feather fans, taking a deep breath. You walked up to the closed red curtains listening to the deafening cheers and whistles. You heard the clink of the ropes being pulled back before you were blinded by the spotlights. You closed your eyes, bowing your head, your body covered by the bright red fans. 

You started your routine, swaying your hips seductively as you pulled the fans back away from your body teasing the audience. You lost yourself in the music, thankfully it was difficult to decipher anyone’s face over the shadows cast by the spotlights. You unclipped the tulle skirt, throwing it off stage. You could make out a certain group of sailors, and a rather large man standing by the bar. 

You teased the audience, covering your body with the fans before flashing them a glimpse of your shimmering body suit. You pulled the fans over your head, rotating your hips in a circular motion as you lowered into a squat. You bounced on your heels before jumping back up to your feet. You smirked as the men whistled and cheered. 

The music slowed, and faded out as you walked behind the red curtain. You dropped off your fans before heading back to your dressing room. You opened the door, shutting it behind you. 

“Who sent the roses?” Five’s voice sent a shiver down your spine. You turned your head sharply, meeting Five’s predatory gaze.

“Five!” You gasped, your heart soaring in your chest. “When did you get here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” He said, crossing his arms. Your smile fell off your face, what was his problem? It’s not your fault that he dropped you off in the middle of 1963 with no resources. 

“Three months ago.” You said furrowing your brows, “I’ve been looking for you this whole time!” He scoffed, clicking his tongue.

“Oh really? It looks like you’ve been getting enough attention without me.” He huffed, glaring at the bouquet of roses.

“Excuse me for finding a way to survive here.” You spit pushing past him, knocking his shoulder against yours. You took a seat in front of your vanity, pulling out your makeup kit. He stalked up behind you, towering over you. He gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him through the mirror, effectively smearing your bright red lipstick.

“You’re mine.” He sneered, his lips pulling back over his teeth. You flushed, heat pooling in your core. You stared up at him through the mirror, his fingers squeezing your lips together. “Got it?” He asked. You glared at him, a devilish thought entering your mind. 

You kept quiet, smirking as you watched a shadow pass over his features. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as he tilted your head to look him in the eye.

“You must need a lesson.” He smirked, pulling you to your feet, you stumbled slightly in your heels. He kicked the chair away, you jumped as it thudded against the carpeted floor. His arm moved behind you, sweeping everything off of your vanity along with the roses. They crashed to the floor, the vase shattering. He pushed you against the vanity, caging you in with his arms as he slammed his hands against the mirror. He stared down at you with a wolfish grin, you felt yourself flush. Your heart started to beat faster as you squirmed under him.

“Yes sir.” You said tilting your chin up, staring at him through your lashes. He growled spinning you around, your hands splayed out in front of you on the top of the vanity. His hand connected to your ass cheek, letting out a low chuckle as you gasped. He moved your hair off of your back, his cold fingers attacking the strings of your corset. 

“Stupid- fucking- ribbon-“ he said through gritted teeth, you caught the slightly crazed look in his eye through the reflection. Your body felt on fire, three months without him made every touch that more exhilarating. As soon as the corset was loose enough he was ripping it off of your body, along with your panties. You were entirely bare in front of your fully dressed husband. He stepped back, loosening his tie as he watched you squirm in the mirror. 

“Not so confident now, dearest.” He smirked, unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt. You breathed hard, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Your nipples hardened against the cold air in the dressing room. You heard the familiar metal on metal as he took off his belt before unzipping his pants. He walked up behind you, nosing his dick against your folds. You clenched around nothing, pushing back against him. His hand came up to the back of your skull, wrapping his fist through your hair. He stared at you through his darkened gaze, you were breathless, your lips parting slightly.

“Please,” you whined, batting your eyelashes. He forcibly thrusted all the way in, knocking the breath out of your lungs. You let out a pornagraphic moan before you covered your mouth with your hand. He grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your mouth and holding it behind your back.

“Why don’t you let everyone here know who you belong to?” He huffed in your ear, thrusting erratically into you. You gripped the desk, the only thing holding you up as Five plowed into you. “Let them know that I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this.” You clenched around him as his words seemed to straight directly to your core. He let out a groan, loosening his grip on your hair. “Fuck you like this don’t you?” You nodded enthusiastically, your eyes rolling back into your head as his cock prodded against your g-spot.

“Yes, yes Five!” You babbled tears pricking your eyes, as he bent you over the desk. His hands flew to your hips, pulling them against his own thrusts. You could only lay there as your orgasm came crashing down. You were thankful you were on top of the vanity because there was no way your trembling legs would have been able to hold you up. 

Five’s eyebrows knit together as he arched his neck back, his hips stuttering as his orgasm quickly followed yours. Cumming with a loud shout he collapsed on top of you, your sweat causing his thin shirt to stick to your skin. He pulsed inside of you as he gingerly tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. He pulled away, peeling himself off of you. He kissed your shoulder as his softened cock slipped out of you. Your breathing was slowly coming back to normal as he tried to return your room to the state it was before he had destroyed it and you. He picked up your robe draping it over your shoulders. You sat up, feeling his cum start to drip down your thighs.

“What took you so long?” You asked, tying your robe close around your naked body.

“I just got here.” He sighed, tucking himself back into his pants. “I’m sorry I made you wait.” He turned to you, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“I’ll always wait for you.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his waist. He held you against his chest, resting his cheek against yours.

“At least someone will, Luther and Diego weren’t too happy about me dumping them in the past.” Five sighed. Diego and Luther were here, too?

“Where are they?” You asked, turning to Five with wide eyes. Five looked at you inquisitively, a small smile pulling on the corner of his mouth.

“Luther works for Jack Ruby, y/n. I found him in this club before I knew you worked here.” Your stomach dropped. Luther worked for Jack Ruby? That means he must have seen your numbers.

“Oh god.” You said mortified, hanging your head against Five’s chest. He chuckled, shaking his head as he lightly rubbed your back.

“Believe me, he was just as mortified as you are.” He said, “Although I must say I thoroughly enjoyed your routine.” He lowered his voice, his hands trailing down your body to rest on your butt.

“I think I could give you a private showing.” You smirked, wrapping your hand around his tie. You pulled him forward by his tie, smashing your lips against his. His hands gripped your hips, the velvety fabric smooth against his palms. 

“God I’d love that,” He let out a sigh, “but maybe we should wait until after we save the world.” 

Again? It was happening again?

“Vanya?” You asked, pulling away.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” He shrugged, “All I know is on November 25th the world ends, again.” 

“Guess it’s time for a family reunion.”

[foolinafable]

the setup

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader Synopsis: Five has a rather outrageous crush on his niece's tutor, so Lila and Diego decide to set them up by inviting her to their daughter's birthday party. Word Count: 1.7K Tags: Fluff, season 4, Crackfic, everyone knows they like each other but they are being stupid Note: sorry this took so long to come out, i had half written in august but only finished it now, not really proofread yet so mind any mistakes!

“You came!” the delighted voice of Grace Hargreeves shouted out as the girl bounded her way toward you. Enveloping you in a larger-than-life hug 

“Of course I did! I told you I would, didn’t I?” you questioned the girl, struggling to hug her back with her present in your hands. 

“Yes, but-” the girl started, not able to meet your eyes, embarrassed at her thoughts 

“But nothing!” you quickly interrupted her. “Now go play with your friends. I need to find your mom or dad and figure out where to put your present.” You shooed the girl away towards her friends. 

Luckily, you didn’t need to look far, Lila spotted you almost immediately after her daughter left you. The woman quickly made her way over to you with a large smile on her face, mirroring her daughters. She quickly pulled you into an excited hug before pulling away and taking the present off your hands. 

“So glad you could come, Grace had been asking repeatedly if her favourite tutor was coming.”  

“I’m her only tutor?” you questioned 

“That’s what I said!” The woman laughed, glee apparent in her features as she grabbed your hand with the one not carrying your present, walking you towards where all the adults were unfortunately stationed watching the children, some looking like they would rather be anywhere else. 

“Diego!” Lila called out to her husband, who quickly turned towards her, his smile widening when he noticed you stood next to her. He quickly hugged you in greeting before turning his attention to his wife. 

“Where did you put the pinata? Luther and I are going to set it up.” 

“Um,” Lila looked around, spinning around in a circle to survey the area when her gaze locked onto someone near the ball pit. “Five!” The woman called out, waiting for him to look at her before she continued, “Can you bring the pinata over? Thanks!” She quickly called out before rushing off, mumbling something about needing to get the cake.

The man in question quickly made his way over, holding a very familiar-looking piñata 

“Is that an east side piñata?” you questioned as Five handed it over to Diego, who looked at you with so much relief you thought you could've saved his life

“Yes,” he practically shouted in glee. “Yes, it is!” looking around smugly for someone, but you weren't sure who 

“You might need a bit of a heavier hand with that then. At my younger cousin's birthday last week, it took an adult to hit it for the candy to come out,” you warned the older man. He simply nodded, walking off to put it up, a large smile still present on his face, 

“Hi” the man you were left with almost whispered, believing that he would scare you off if he came on too strong. 

“Hi, Five,” you smiled in greeting, “I haven't seen you at the house recently. Been busy?” you replied. Truthfully, wanting to keep talking to the attractive man, 

“Yeah, sorry, been working overtime at the CIA, sure you understand” he smiled slightly at your attention to his lack of presence lately. Making him believe that maybe Lila and Diego were right about your reciprocation of feelings towards him

 “How has University been?” he questioned, wanting to keep the conversation going 

“Very good”, you respond. Hand on hips at his disbelief in your answer, shock evident on your face “Honestly!” you smile,

“I mean, I'm on Christmas break at the moment, so there’s not much to do other than tutoring.” You shrug your shoulders, trying to hint to the man that maybe the two of you could spend some time together. But before Five could reply, Klaus came bouldering over with Claire. 

“Five! Lovely to see you!” 

The man greets his brother, Klaus, you quickly learn from Five's reply 

“And this is?” Klaus asks, gesturing towards you when Claire whispers to him. 

Klaus “The tutor! We have heard so much about you!”

“Really?” you questioned, looking down at your feet in nervousness. “I didn't know Grace spoke about me so much.”

“Oh, not from Grace-“ Klaus began, a large cheeky smile covering his face. But he was quickly interrupted by the feeling of a hand on his gloved one, causing him to pause in alarm. When he was quickly dragged away by Claire, her eyes wide in alarm, while Five was glaring at him with such ire you could imagine Hades opening up hell for whoever was at the other end of it.

“It was lovely to meet you”, he shouted as his niece pulled him further away from you.

You smiled, a clumsy laugh tumbling out as you looked at Five, his hands covering his face in annoyance, but a clear smile was present on his face when he removed his hands, but before either of you could say anything more, a familiar head of hair came running towards you.

“How is the birthday girl doing?” you ask, ruffling her hair as she smiles widely at you.

“Amazing, but I would feel even better if you watched me go down the slide”, the girl replied cheekily, making a small scoff come out of her uncle's mouth at her words. 

“Well, we can't have the birthday girl not be at max amazingness, can we?” you teased as she led away from Five and towards the play area. An apologetic smile on your face as you left him, hoping that it wasn't the last time you would speak to him today.  

── ✧

You didn’t see the brunette again until much later, stood by the ball pit after having escaped the herd of parents asking you intrusive questions, you were sure you would’ve blown a fuse if anyone else asked why you were still single as you were ‘such a lovely girl.’ 

“Finally freed yourself from the lionesses, I see”, Five joked as he came to stand next to you, beer in hand. “It seems Klaus has not been so lucky.” You looked over to see that they had now set their sights on the boy crowding around him like paparazzi. 

“Remind me to stay clear of that side of the room,” you complained, hands rubbing at your temples in worry that they would begin to hurt “There's only so long I can handle being asked about my lack of boyfriend before I strangle one of them,” you admitted, not catching the man's smile at your words.

“Don’t worry, I'll protect you,” he proclaimed.

“Yes, I'm sure you will be much a deterrent to the herd of mamas,” you joked, laughing at his recoil, head shaking in amazement at your goading.

“You really know how to make someone feel good about themselves, don't you?” he teased 

“Clearly”, you smiled, sarcasm laced heavily in your response.

The balls in the ball pool quickly flew up as a man emerged from them, causing you to jump back in alarm as Luther popped his head up from below, a large smile on his face at catching you off guard, eyebrows raising slightly as he noticed his brother stood next to you. After a laugh, you spoke pleasantries with the man, trying to ignore Five's hard glare that he was directing at him. The younger-looking male sighed loudly, causing the two of you to look towards him, the eye contact made the man go red in embarrassment before clearing his throat, looking exacerbated. 

“I thought you were helping Diego set up the  pinata?”

“I was?” The larger man questioned, eyes wide as he looked around the party, clearly alarmed that he wasn't doing what Five had mentioned, scampering out of the ball pit when he saw Diego, but before he could make his way over, Diego called out for everyone to come over for the game so the three of you slowly made your way towards the growing group of children and adults. Five made sure to lead you over to an area with less noisy parents, making you smile in thanks as he grabbed you by the small of the back to lead you away when a parent tried to call out for you.   

To say the next few moments were a disaster would be an understatement, mirroring your earlier words as the pinata was from the east side no matter how hard Grace or her friends would hit the object, it wouldn't break. Luther, clearly wanting to make it up to Diego for missing the memo to help him, tried to use his strength to break the Pinata, and while the Pinata did break, so did the birthday cake. Bits of it went everywhere like a volcano explosion, covering all the guests, much to the children's joy and parents' horror. 

You now stood off to the side, trying to get any larger pieces of cake out of your hair, laughing at the furious faces of the other adults. When Five gave you a napkin, you smiled, letting out a quiet appreciation as you wiped at your face. Feeling that you had gotten enough off, you turned to the boy, laughing at his cake-covered face.

“Here,” you said, moving to wipe some cake off his cheek with the napkin, trying to contain your giggles, he smiled brightly as you moved away from him slightly, his own hand coming to tuck a strand of hair full of icing behind your ears and then regretfully retracting his hand

“Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe go to a coffee shop where my siblings won't interrupt us every few minutes?” he asked, fingers fidgeting with nerves. 

“Like a date?” you questioned, trying not to get your hopes up, smiling up at him, head tilting slightly to the left as you pondered his words.

“If you want” he replied pensively. 

“I do”, you quickly rebutted, smiling as the boy led you towards the door with a matching grin on his own face.

── ✧

“I told you he would ask her out tonight,” Diego spoke smugly, watching as his brother helped you put on your coat, his wife watching, annoyed beside him.

“I thought it would’ve taken him until our Christmas party.” Lila rebutted, clearly annoyed that she had lost

“But I suppose it is about time you won one of our bets”, she replied smugly, quickly lowering Diego down a peg as the two watched you and Five leave their daughters' birthday party, hands intertwined.

[matan4il]

An incomplete "there's a good chance the icon you love and support is a Zionist" list

🌟 Raphael Lemkin, a Jewish Holocaust survivor, whose family was murdered during it. Lemkin is responsible for coining the term "genocide," and for every legal provision that exists today against it. His work against genocide was inspired by his Zionism.

🌟 Martin Luther King, Jr., who did not only support Israel and its right to security, a fellow participant at a dinner with MLK shortly before his assassination quotes him as having stopped a student attacking Zionism, and replied, "When people criticize Zionists, they mean Jews. You’re talking antisemitism." He also encouraged Americans in 1967 to support the Jewish state, as Egypt blockaded the Straits of Tiran, endangering Israeli citizens by cutting the country off from its oil supply.

🌟 Emma Lazarus, a Jewish American poet, whose words ("Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breath free") are engraved on the Statue of Liberty's pedestal, after they helped raise the money needed for its completion. Drawing from the value of Jewish solidarity, she also wrote, "Until we are all free, we are none of us free," adopted as a slogan by intersectionality (while many in the movement exclude Jews from it). She was a great supporter of establishing a state for Jews in the Jewish homeland, having argued for this idea years before the word "Zionist" was even coined.

🌟 The 14th Dalai Lama, the leader of the fight against the occupation of Tibet, who was invited in 1994 to Israel, at a time when China's communist regime did its best to prevent his visits anywhere in the world, and who came to Israel more than once, talking about the 2000 years long Zionism of Jewish culture in exile as an inspiration and role model for Tibetans. "Among Tibetan refugees, we are always saying to ourselves that we must learn the Jewish secret to keep our traditions, in some cases under hostile circumstances."

🌟 Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who spoke more than once about how her pursuit of justice is a continuation of that very same thing in Jewish tradition. She had repeatedly referred to American Zionist Jews as sources of inspiration. For example, in 2018, during her fifth visit to Israel, in a speech she gave when receiving the Genesis Award, she mentioned two such women, Emma Lazarus and Henrietta Szold.

🌟 Nelson Mandela had an ambivalent view of Israel, but repeatedly recognized its right to exist, which makes him a Zionist, he also called upon Arab states to do the same, and was favorable towards the Zionist Jews who supported him during his underground days. Mandela being critical of Israel and still a Zionist is an apt reminder that criticizing the Jewish state and opposing its very existence are NOT the same thing, and only one's antisemitic.

🌟 Felix Salten, the Jewish author of Bambi (the book Disney's movie is based on). The tale was originally a metaphor for Jews suffering antisemitism, something Salten personally had to cope with. He was also an ardent Zionist, feeling the self-liberation at the core of this ideology suited his idea of how to deal with Jew hatred.

🌟 Sun Yat-Sen, who helped end the rule of China's last imperial dynasty, was its first provisional president, and is nowadays honored as an important Chinese leader in both China and Taiwan (sometimes referred to as "Father of the Chinese Nation"). He was an enthusiastic supporter of Zionism. Among other instances of expressing that, he wrote in a 1920 letter to a leader of the Jewish community in Shang Hai about Zionism that it is, "one of the greatest movements of the present time. All lovers of Democracy cannot help but support wholeheartedly and welcome with enthusiasm the movement to restore your wonderful and historic nation, which has contributed so much to the civilization of the world and which rightfully deserves an honorable place in the family of nations."

🌟 Magnus Hirschfeld, a gay Jewish sexologist, nicknamed among other things "The Einstein of Sex" and "The Father of Gay Liberation," because his medical and scientific work on human sexuality, as well as social advocacy for women's, gay and trans rights, was nothing short of pioneering. He was persecuted by the Nazis to the point where he died in exile. They broke into his institute of sexual research, where the world's first clinic performing sex reassignments surgeries was located, and burned down the institute's library. Hirschfeld had attended a Zionist conference following the Balfor Declaration of 1917, and his work on sexual liberation found inspiration in young socialist Jewish Zionist workers he met during a visit to the Land of Israel in 1931-2.

🌟 Marcia Langton, a professor and prominent Aboriginal rights activist from Australia, who has been leading the fight against racism and for her community. She spoke out against the hijacking of native rights movements by terrorist sympathizers and antisemites, and has clearly stood against all loss of life, including that of Israelis.

🌟 Felix Zandman, a Holocaust survivor whose work on resistors is integrated into many smartphones, laptops, cars, satellites, hospital ventilators (saving many Covid patients), airplanes and more. Whenever the anti-Israel crowd is scrolling social media on their phones, they're enjoying the work of a Zionist, who enthusiastically supported the State of Israel, and even introduced an important improvement to the Israeli Merkava tank, which has likely saved many Israeli lives, Jewish and non-Jewish alike, and others like him, since Israel's high tech is considered only second to Silicon Valley (going back to at least the 1990's). If they truly wish to boycott everything that's been "contaminated" by Zionism, they should probably just boycott technology.

🌟 Rosa Parks, an African American leader of the civil rights movement (and someone who personally demonstrated how one can resist without turning violent). She was one of 200 notable black American leaders who publicly organized to express their support and respect of Zionism as the Jewish right to self-determination, and Israel as the manifestation of that right.

-> Like I said, this is VERY incomplete, even just in terms of how the overwhelming majority of Jews are Zionist, and have been since the inception of Judaism, which is itself Zionist. Over the years, this led to many non-Jewish human and native rights champions to be supportive of Zionism, too. Take note of who is being vilified, when the term "Zionist" is ignorantly used as if it means anything other than belief in the equal right of Jews to liberation and self-determination in the Jewish ancestral land. Especially when it is used as being inherently evil.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[notakugelblitz]

FERNANDO • Five Hargreeves x Reader

as everyone seems so sad since the release of season 4, i thought this could help :’)

it takes place during season 3, during Luther and Sloane’s wedding. as you spend your last moments with your siblings in law, you start to have some regrets about the life you could have had with Five.

NO WARNING, all fluff 😊 2341 words

i got inspired by ABBA’s song Fernando and it’s so Five x Y/N related I love it (well this is how I interpret it)

english isn’t my first language so sorry if you spot any mistake

enjoy ☂️

It was only a matter of hours now. You were all staying at the Hotel Oblivion, the last survivors. The Kugelblitz was growing and yet, Sloane and Luther had decided to marry.

While the boys were having a bachelor party before the ceremony, you were wandering the corridors aimlessly.

Ever since you arrived in 2019 with Five, his family quickly became yours. They welcomed you so warmly and trying to save the world twice clearly forged something big. But when you met the Sparrows, the hate that they felt against them seemed rather excessive (apart from Luther of course). Probably due to your age, you felt more mature about it. Seeing Sloane and Ben loosing all of their family pained you grandly.

You even found in Luther’s future wife a friend, which was a surprise but you enjoyed her kindness quite much. Your feet led you to Sloane’s room so unhesitatingly you knocked at her door which was half opened. She answered and smiled as she spotted you.

“Y/N ! Come in !” Sloane said to you, her soon-to-be former Sparrow Academy sister, in a cheerful fashion as she closed the door behind her.

Then she turned to face her once the door was firmly shut. You smiled, noticing the dress Sloane was sewing herself.

“It looks flawless.” you said, pointing at the white dress laying on the bed.

Sloane smiled gently at your comment and walked over to it, caressing the dress lovingly with her hand.

“Thank you … I just hope it fits me.”

“I’m sure it will. Nothing you wear unfits you.”

You chuckled a bit falsely, feeling a pain in your heart but yet you managed to smile. It was the best day of Sloane's life, and probably her last, after all.

She seemed to notice the sadness in your eyes and immediately became concerned as she took a closer look at you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong ? You look … sad.”

You sighed and grabbed a vase, sitting on the chair as you took the flowers out of it. You started to tie the stems altogether to create a crown.

“I am not sad. I am just … seeing you all excited for your wedding … I’ve been there too … ” you let out.

Sloane smiled and sat down on the bed opposite you, watching you make a crown out of the vase’s contents.

“Yes, I am but … I get the impression that you didn’t enjoy yours ?” she said slowly, a hint of suspicion in her voice as she tried to make sense of your comment.

“Oh no, I loved it !” you exclaimed suddenly. “I had the most wonderful wedding. And I believe yours will be just as perfect.”

She smiled genuinely as she heard you say that you enjoyed your wedding.

“Well … I’m relieved to hear that ! For a moment, I thought you’d been married to an arsehole or something !”

“Five is an arsehole indeed, but he is a great man, I can assure you.” you laughed.

You then approached her to check the size of the crown on her head.

“There.”

Sloane smiled as you placed the flower crown on her head carefully. Feeling the weight of it, she looked in the mirror, gently caressing the flowers and admiring the work that had been done on it.

“Thank you, Y/N. It’s beautiful …”

You looked at Sloane’s reflection and surprised yourself with a sort of mothering smile. It suddenly brought you nostalgia and sadness at the same time. Sloane checked over her shoulder, noticing your change of mood, a look of concern once again present on her face.

“Y/N … are you sure you’re okay ?”

You pinched your nose and sighed, trying to avoid some tears from falling. You couldn’t believe how weak your were but the tiredness and the end of the world wasn’t making it easy.

“Five and I married when we were 56. Secretly, as it was forbidden by the … by our employers,” you started to explain.

You checked on her, wanting to know if she was ok with you opening up like this. Her eyes saying like “Go on, I’m listening.” and her hand grabbing yours relieved you suddenly.

“I am 58 now. I just wish I had met him sooner …”

You looked down at your feet. It might sound weird for Sloane as you also had the appearance of a teenager. But still she kept holding your hand, gently rubbing the back of it with her thumb as you spoke, trying to give comfort in any way she could.

“Is that why you’re sad ? Because you wished you’d had more time with Five ?”

“When we got back here, we thought of a well-deserved retirement..” you sighed deeply. “But then he decided to save the world again because he’s addicted to it. And I wouldn’t blame him for that, he spent his life doing so. I just …”

You bit your lips, looking down at her hands, young and soft.

“And you just … want to be able to grow old with him … like normal people who marry and have a family …”

You looked up at Sloane, surprised that she’d understand that easily. You slightly opened your mouth because of the astonishment but shook your head.

“I know that everyone expect me to say that I have no regrets because I had time, unlike you … no offense of course. But coming back in 2019, both of us teenagers again, I thought … it sounds stupid, but I thought we had another chance, you know ? To grow old normally, without any Commission nor Kugelblitz.”

“I get that … you feel like you’ve been robbed.”

You nodded and looked up at her, cupping her cheek with your free hand.

“I shouldn’t bother you with that. Let’s enjoy this night, shall we?”

Sloane seemed to freeze.

“Would you like to be my maid of honour ?” she lets out suddenly.

You arched an eyebrow and smirked.

“I mean … you’re the only friend I’ve got here and … Ben is a dumbass. And a boy.”

“Yeah right … I’d be honoured.” you chuckled.

Without warning, Sloane hugged you tightly, resting her chin upon your shoulder. This felt good actually, and you got a bit moved knowing that you both needed it. At this moment Sloane’s wedding became your last most important mission. You wanted to ensure that it’ll be the night of her life and all the happiness she could feel, the same you felt back then, shan’t be disturbed.

• • •

The Hotel Oblivion had never been as beautiful as it was now, with the Hargreeves being the last survivors on earth. Celebrating a wedding a day before the end of the world had something rather beautiful.

You were standing by the aisle, beside Sloane, as you were her maid of honor. You looked at her and Luther with a kind of nostalgia, smiling a bit sadly while Klaus was pronouncing some vows.

As Klaus’s speech continued, Five kept his eyes on you. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia himself as he took in the moment. All the people he loved most were here with him, yet he knew deep down that these would be the last moments they’d get to spend together like this. The thought was more than a little concerning to him, and the hand holding his glass subconsciously clenched into a fist.

At the end of the ceremony, everyone went their separate ways, some dancing on the dance floor, some at the buffet. You headed directly to the bar where all the alcohol was, serving yourself a glass of whisky with the same nostalgia and sadness in your eyes.

Even though you had moved to the bar, it was as if Five’s eyes had never once left you. So he grabbed another glass and joined you at the bar.

“Are you just planning on staying here all night ?” he asked, taking a seat next to you.

Just by his tone, it seemed as if he was trying to hide his concern under his usual snarky demeanor.

“Aren’t you ?” you asked, pouring some whisky into his glass.

You sighed and lifted your glass to raise a toast with him, your smile a bit off. Five raised his glass as well, clinking it against yours.

“You’ve got a point there.”

He took a rather large gulp of the drink before setting the glass down. Five glances at you as a look of concern crossed his face again.

“You’ve got that look on your face. You alright ?”

You sighed and drank your glass bottoms up, then filled it up again. You then turned to see Sloane and Luther dancing happily.

“Do you have any regrets ?” you asked monotonously. “I mean… we never had the time to really enjoy a happy married couple life, you know ?”

He turned his head towards you and raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Are you being serious right now ?” he quipped.

“That’s what you’re worried about ? Really ?”

“Did we, Five ?” you asked, looking right at him with pain in your eyes. “I mean, yes, we got married, but for what ? Working two years at the Commission with your name after mine and then coming back in 2019 to save the world and have no fucking break.”

You sighed and drank your glass again, bottoms up, not disturbed by the strength of the alcohol.

He sighed, running a hand down his face as he spoke.

“That … that’s not a very fair question. It’s not as if we could’ve helped it.” he started off, trying to reassure you as he picked up his glass and swirled the alcohol around. “Things just happened that we had to deal with. Like you said, we were more focused on stopping the apocalypse than ... anything normal couples would usually do.”

“I dreamt of a retirement, Five. I truly did,” you let out. “Reappearing here with damn teenage appearances, I… I thought we had a second chance, you know ? Having a whole life for ourselves. But no.”

You sniffed and poured yourself another glass. A look of hurt and concern spread across his face even more at this. He knew how badly you had wanted to experience life like every normal people did and all that came with it, and seeing you admit how disappointed you were … it was crushing for him.

He put his hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing it as he tried to find the right words to say to console you.

“You know it’s not too late, right ?” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“We only have a day left, Five. Don’t mock me.”

He grabbed you by both shoulders and turned you to face him, gripping them tight.

“I am not.” he said defensively, his voice regaining its hard, blunt tone. “You’d know that if you’d just listen to me for a minute. What I’m trying to say is … you want to experience being a normal, young adult ? Fine. Well, there’s nothing stopping us now, is there ? So stop sulking and start enjoying this while it lasts.”

You looked at him with surprised eyes, rather shocked by what he said. You didn’t have the words, mouth slightly open. The music stopped and another song started : "Fernando" by ABBA. You felt shivers down your spine hearing it. It was the song that played during your first dance … well, it played on the car radio, and you danced somewhere on the side of the road on your way back from your little clandestine marriage back in 1977.

As soon as he heard the opening beats of this special song, he couldn’t help but smirk and internally snicker, already anticipating his next move. He grabbed your hand with a slightly tight grip and started to pull you to the dance floor.

“Five, what are you doing ?” you gasped, leaving your glass on the table.

You were still a bit shocked but let him pull you anyway.

“Oh my ! Five is going to dance !” Lila exclaimed.

“Awwwww, that is way too cuuuuute !” Klaus chuckled.

“Gross.” Ben added.

Five glared at the others as he dragged you towards the dance floor, ignoring their teasing. However, the death glare changed back into a smirk once he got onto the dance floor and pulled you into his arms.

“Just shut up and dance with me,” he quipped.

“But you never dance …” you whispered.

But you didn’t say a word when he placed your hands on his shoulder and in his palm.

“You’ve been wanting to have your time to enjoy yourself as a married couple, right ?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “So then … why not spend our last night doing exactly that ?”

You huffed, touched by his words. It seemed like the end of the world had opened his eyes somehow, and enjoying every last minute with the people he loved felt more important now, ever since he met his old version saying that he shouldn’t save the world and all that awful stuff …

You smiled at him widely.

“Thank you …” you almost whispered.

His heart felt both heavy and warm at your words. Heavy in the fact that he was suddenly very aware of how limited their time was … but warm in the fact that it seemed like you’d finally come back to your senses.

“Save your thanks and enjoy yourself for the night, okay ?” he replied quietly, a small smirk on his lips. “The only reason I’m doing this is so you’ll stop moping and complaining, just so you know.”

“Yeah, right.”

You chuckled, knowing that he was doing it for himself too.

“Though we never thought that we could lose, there's no regret.” you quietly hummed along.

Five spun you around, and he couldn’t help but laugh a bit, enjoying himself much more than he thought he would. Seeing him smile like this, being truly happy after a long time, moved you a bit. Those dimples, his glimmering eyes …

As you hummed to the lyrics of the song, the smirk on his face widened, and he began to sing along.

"If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando."

[norikuna]

🌿 I LOVE YOU SO MATCHA! — gojo satoru sfw!

prologue. → green was the color of life, and gojo satoru, in all his contradictions, carried life in the way he loved recklessly, laughed shamelessly, and held you like the universe began and ended with you. 🌿 🤍 part of the cookbook (@antizenin)

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

but green is the colour of earth. of living things, of life. and of rot. — unknown.

warnings+. sweetness and established relationship, there's angst in this i genuinely couldn't help it, reader wears a dress in a scene, mentions of injury!

word count. 4k! song inspiration. luther — kendrick lamar, sza

a/n. i'm doing the sukuna shibuya bow from making another predictable twist and ending. but i actually rlly loved writing this, this fic is gonna stay with me i fear <3 gif made by me!

mp3. if it was up to me, i wouldn't give these nobodies no sympathy. i'd take away the pain, i'd give you everything

most people think of gojo satoru in shades of blue.

not the soft and wistful kind that paints summer skies, or the quiet ripple of a lake at dawn. no, they think of an unearthly blue. sharp and electrifying, the kind that stings your eyes and lingers even after you look away.

the shocking azure of his cursed technique, like lightning bottled and ready to shatter the earth. or maybe it's the endless stretch of his eyes, the kind of blue that is so bright, you may burn yourself if you look too long.

to everyone else, gojo is blue. bold, and unrelenting and impossible to ignore.

but to you, gojo satoru is green.

it took time for you to notice it. green doesn't always shout or demand attention. it waits quietly in the background, sometimes content to let others take the stage.

but once you saw it, it was everywhere. it bloomed and took over your life.

the café smells like freshly brewed coffee, warm bread, and the faint sweetness of jasmine blooms sitting in a vase by the window. it's a quiet day, the kind that only seems to exist when gojo has finally managed to wrangle some rare time off.

your boyfriend sits across from you, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, grinning like he's thought of something utterly brilliant.

"okay, hear me out," he says, holding up a hand like he's about to make a groundbreaking declaration that will shatter the earth and bring world peace, "you're the oolong one for me."

you pause and scrunch your face, mid-sip in your tea, "please don't."

gojo leans forward, his grin growing wider ever still, "no? how about this? you're simply tea-rrific."

you bury your face in your hands, as an elderly couple looks at the two of you oddly, "you're unbearable."

"tea-rrific. like terrific," gojo laughs, wagging a finger like a professor lecturing his class, "get it? because -"

"oh, i get it," you cut in, shaking your head but still smiling at your entire world of a boyfriend, "i just refuse to reward bad behaviour."

but you should know better than to think you've tampered down on the relentless force that is gojo satoru. he is relentless in all things, especially when he decides to make you laugh. he's launched into an entire string of tea-related puns, each one worse than the last.

chai think you're amazing! we're a matcha made in heaven! leaf me alone, i'm on a roll!

and somehow, somewhere between the chai and matcha, you start to notice the green.

the delicate stems and leaves of the jasmine says slightly as the café door opens and closes, catching your eye. their soft green isn't loud nor is it attention-seeking. just quietly present, a backdrop to the white blooms that adorn their head.

it is the kind of colour you don't realise you've been missing until it's suddenly there.

you glance at the window, and the trees lining the street are the same, their leaves dappling the sunlight as they sway in the breeze. even the café walls, painted in a muted, sage-like shade, seem to glow just a little in the sunlight. a backdrop to gojo's charming antics.

he's still in front of you, his hair gleaming the same dewy shade as the jasmine blossoms. so animated as he explains why leaf me alone was an under appreciated pun.

there's green in him too, you think.

not in the obvious sense for gojo satoru is far too outwardly vivid to be defined by something as soft as the green akin to your matcha. but it's still there, beneath the flash of his grin and the sharpness of his humour. in the way that he leans closer to make sure you're still smiling.

in the way he somehow turns the whole world into a quiet garden on days like this.

"okay," gojo says, leaning back to cross his arms over his crisp white tee, "i'll stop. but admit it, i brewed up some great ones."

you roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betray you, "fine. one of them was acceptable."

gojo gasps, clutching his chest like you've delivered a fatal, cleaving wound, "one? one? i give you comedy gold, and the love of my life repays me like this!"

the jasmine leaves quiver again as your knee knocks up, shaking the table, "you're impossible."

gojo smiles softer this time, tipping his head as though you've delivered the greatest compliment in the world, "yeah. but love me so matcha!"

the strongest sorcerer in modern history is cracking himself up again, and you can feel the warmth of the colour green around you. in the leaves, in the dappled light, and the man across from you who somehow makes the world softer, and sweeter. and full of life.

there's a matcha-green hoodie in gojo's closest. it's oversized, cozy and worn just enough at the cuffs to feel like a bit of a secret. something loved so well that it holds pieces of him in the quilted fabric.

it's nothing like the sharp navy and indigo of his uniform that he wears on duty, where every line is a untouchable warning. no, these clothes are the opposite for you. it's familar. it's gojo's off-duty self, the one that the rest of the world doesn't get to see.

gojo only really wears it at home, when he's padding around barefoot with tousled, snowy hair brushing over his forehead as he pretends to tiptoe (and fails spectacularly) to let you sleep in. it's the kind of green that somehow makes the mornings softer, as if the day dances quietly around you too.

it's also the green of the evenings when he drapes himself over the couch in your apartment, long legs dangling over the armrest while he beckons you with a lazy smile.

the fabric is impossibly soft against your cheek as you settle into his broad chest, and his arms loop around you like they were always meant to belong there. it smells like him too, a little like cedar and a little like pine. and you think it might be your favourite place in the world.

one time, you stole it.

you hadn't planned it. you had been cold, and it had been right there. before you knew it, you had been walking around the house in its oversized embrace.

when gojo had caught you for the first, his grin stretched wide, playful and wicked.

"hey, well," gojo had drawled, leaning against a doorframe like a cartoon cat that had finally cornered the mouse, "look who's going through other people's closets."

you tugged the sleeves further over your hands, "it's comfortable. you take my shit all the time."

"it's cute on you," gojo says, sauntering closer and placing his large hands on either side of your face, "but you know...no one looks cuter than me."

you snort and turn your back on him, which only encourages for the six-foot-three man to chase after you. and even though he claimed he needed it back, he didn't get it for a week.

maybe because you refused to give it up, or maybe because every time he saw you in it, he just shook his head, grinning as if he’d been caught in the middle of something he didn’t mind losing.

when gojo invited you back to the family estate, you had braced yourself for grandeur. looming gates, and endless halls. the suffocating weight of tradition.

and yes, the grandeur had been there. but what lingered most in your memory wasn't the vastness or the architecture. it was how beautiful it was.

there were several shrines that lay nestled among the estate, hidden away on plots of land. this one had been worn soft by time, covered in moss and nestled among the larger stones.

spring had woven itself into every corner of the estate, from the blossoms swaying overhead to the long grass brushing against your ankles as you walked.

gojo stood a few steps ahead of you, glancing back as if to make sure that you hadn't disappeared, hadn't been swallowed up by the earth. he was dressed in far more traditional robes for once, navy linen lowing and rippling as he moved.

but there was something endearingly out of place about him here, like a bird perched on the wrong branch.

"spring makes it look nicer than it is," he said, running his fingers over the soft, white edges of his undercut. you can hear the underlying vulnerable note in his seemingly casual voice.

you didn’t reply right away, too caught up in the way the sunlight filtered through the cherry blossoms, scattering dappled green shadows across the worn stone steps. when you reached the base of the shrine, you paused, taking it all in: the moss, the blossoms, the breeze, and him.

"it's beautiful," you said finally, and he gave you a lopsided smile that felt more honest than any grandeur could ever be.

he waited for you at the top of the steps, his gaze steady and warm as the spring air. for a moment, he looked like he belonged here, a part of the ancient garden itself. like a carven statue created by loving hands, forever memorialised as something not quite human. but you knew better.

he didn't like this place — this house that felt more like a museum than a home, this estate heavy with the weight of a family name he wore like armour. since arriving, he’d been quieter than usual, his usual spark dimmed by old memories and expectations, and constantly bowing servants who called him lord and master gojo.

but now, as gojo watched you walk through the long grass, something shifted. his shoulders have relaxed, his hands hung loose at his sides. and then, so softly you almost missed it, he says, "i want to marry you."

you froze, the words catching in the breeze between you.

he wasn’t looking at the shrine anymore, or the blossoms, or the sky. gojo satoru was looking at you, his blue eyes calm and unwavering, like he’d found his answer in the very place he’d been avoiding.

"i know it's not much right now," he added, his voice low and rough around the edges, as though he wasn’t used to baring this part of himself, "and i don't care what the elders say. but you're the only person i want."

at the edge of the jujutsu high campus, there's a vending machine of incredible drinks. its green paint had faded, and chipped from the years of stubborn sun and countless coins clinking into its slot.

it hums faintly, blending into the scenery like a reliable friend that carried you through your own years of high school.

somehow, it's become your spot. not officially, no. there was no grand declaration, no conscious agreement and treaty. but after his classes, he always ends up here.

and so do you.

it starts the same way each time. gojo satoru saunters up to his fiancé with that unmistakable grin, white hair catching the light as if he was trying outshine the sun itself.

you watch as he slides a coin into the slot with theatrical position, with his finger hovering dramatically over the buttons. like he's choosing between life and death, instead of commercial canned drinks.

"one iced matcha," gojo announces in a tone meant for a training arena, and not a quiet campus corner. his hand arcs in an exaggerated flourish as he offers you the drink, "for the love of my life."

you roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betray you, "flattery won’t get you anywhere," you reply, accepting the can and cracking it open with practiced ease.

it's a dance you've done a hundred times, but somehow it never gets old. he leans against the vending machine, towering and smug, watching you take a sip like he’s waiting for something.

"don't even think about it, satoru" you warn, holding the can just out of his reach.

but it’s gojo, so of course he thinks about it. he grins wider — how is that possible? and in one fluid motion, he leans in and steals a sip before you can react.

"i will get revenge, always so difficult," you weakly huff, but your fond smile gives you away.

"difficult to resist," he counters, winking like it’s a challenge, "besides," gojo adds, holding the can up to the light as if inspecting its soul, "it tastes better when it’s yours."

you snatch it back, pretending to glare at him, but he’s already leaning closer, his hand brushing yours as he reaches to press another button.

"second round?" he asks, as if this isn’t already part of his plan.

the vending machine hums again, green and steady and familiar, as it delivers another drink with a satisfying clunk.

green had grown to be more than just a colour. it had been a thread that stitched its way through your love story. quiet and constant.

so when the day came, when your heart thudded heavier than ever before and your hands shook just slightly as you smoothed down the expensive fabric, it only made sense that the colour of vitality and new beginnings was everywhere.

the first ceremony itself had been steeped in tradition, from the elegant folds of your formal robes to the rhythmic chants that seemed to echo on in your head. you were grateful for its beauty, but it was the dinner afterwards that felt like yours truly.

the reception was tucked away in a corner of the sprawling grounds, where the tables were adorned with white lilies so luminous they seemed to carry their own light. they sat in vases of muted jade, the colour rich and soft, like the grass after a spring rain. the candles flickered in delicate green holders, casting shadows that waltzed across the tablecloths.

gojo was, of course, the first thing you noticed when you stepped into the space. he wasn’t wearing robes anymore; he’d swapped them for a sleek black suit that fit him perfectly, save for the ever-so-slightly loosened tie (because he couldn't help himself). his hair, as untameable as always, gleamed in the low light.

and then there was you, in a flowing green dress that felt like you’d stepped out of a dream and into his orbit. the soft fabric caught the candlelight, shifting from deep emerald to pale sage as you moved, shimmering. you thought about how this colour, the one that reminded you of leaves and tea and moss-covered shrines — had always meant life to you.

gojo's grin when he saw you was wide enough to rival the moon, and he made a show of adjusting his tie like a movie star spotting their co-star for the first time, with an awfully cliché wink.

"you clean up nice," he said, eyes gleaming with mischief, and then something more love-struck, "my beautiful wife. i must be the luckiest man on earth."

"and you’re just realising this now?" you teased, the soft fabric of your dress whispering as you stepped closer.

dinner wasn’t a grand banquet, but it was perfect — just your closest friends, a table overflowing with warmth, and gojo stealing glances at you as if you’d disappear if he looked away for too long. between bites of food and sips of something sweet, he leaned over to whisper ridiculous commentary in your ear about your guests: how much wine nanami had thrown back, or how shoko had situated herself perfectly near the food.

but then, in quieter moments, he’d reach for your hand beneath the table, his thumb tracing soft, lazy circles on your skin.

the night blurred into laughter and soft music, of digital cameras and drunk speeches. the green hues around you shifting like memories folding into themselves. you caught sight of the lilies swaying gently in the breeze and thought about how gojo had insisted on them when you’d been indecisive.

"white lilies mean devotion," he'd said, smirking like he knew something you didn’t.

"and green?" you'd asked.

"green's for us," he replied, "or for you. i know you like it so much. an' it's cute when you're sentimental."

by the end of the night, gojo's tie was completely undone, and his jacket hung over the back of a chair. he pulled you onto the dance floor despite your protests that your feet hurt, practically yelling in their strapped heels.

"then i'll carry you," he said dramatically, dipping you halfway before breaking into laughter when you yelped.

the two of you swayed there, in the gentle green glow of the reception, his arms wrapped around you and the world falling into place. your husband smelled faintly of the lilies and something warm you couldn’t name. you're sure if you put pen to paper, like a poet of old, you might be able to name that feeling.

"you know," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, "i've been to a lot of ceremonies, but this one’s definitely my favourite."

"oh? why's that?" you asked, resting your cheek against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"because this time, i got to marry you."

you used to love the colour white. it had been the colour everything pure. everything soft that made you feel safe. the brightness of it had brought a clarity to the world.

it was the colour gojo's unruly hair, glistening in the sun like a crown. you had been so enamoured, watching him run slender fingers through soft strands. to you, white had always been perfect and radiant in all of gojo's unbridled glory.

but the winds of the snow storm must have shifted.

you still remember that day so vividly, as if your mind could never forget it no matter how much you wished it could. the white falling on the streets of shinjuku, covered with layers of freshly fallen snow. pristine and untouched.

but there had been a sickening crack of flesh against pavement, the wet thud that only those who've known death too closely can identify.

you had seen it before you'd even registered the horror of it all. the red, the bright crimson that bled into the snow. staining it, warping it. turning it into something so vile. the ministrations of ryomen sukuna.

gojo's body, cleaven and unmoving. the garnet staining his snow-white hair as it pulled from under his spine. the quiet calm that had settled over his face, as if he had seen something so wondrous in his last moments.

that snow, once so untouched and pure, was suffocated by the iron scent of blood. and at that moment, when you had lost him forever, was the moment you knew that white would never mean purity again.

the colour of white, the colour of christmas eve — no longer held any softness for you. it wasn’t the gentle lightness of his hair; it was the cold, hard truth of loss. it was the memory of blood seeping into that pure snow, the last thing he saw before his life was ripped away.

now, you avoid it. you avoid white whenever you can, as if by doing so, you can erase that moment from your mind. you keep your house warm and cozy, perhaps almost unhealthily so, with shades of warm and soft earth tones, and you dress your daughter in colours that remind you of life, of what was still worth living for. but white? it's a shadow, a reminder. so, you avoid it.

but then, one afternoon, a few months later, your daughter tugs at your hand, small and warm, a soft giggle escaping her as she skips ahead of you. you can’t help but smile at her, at how much of gojo satoru is in her — the way she laughs without hesitation, the way her energy fills up every room, every corner.

you're walking down the street, the air still crisp from the tail-end of winter. it's one of those moments when the world feels ordinary, but in the best way possible. sunlight filtering down between reconstructed buildings, the bustle of the city in the background, your daughter's little chirp bubbling in the space between. you're lost in her, in the joy she brings.

but then, you stop.

you don't mean to. you didn't even notice where your feet were taking you until it happens. your gaze drops to the ground, and there it is.

that spot. the place where it all happened. the very spot where the white had been stained with merlot, the place where gojo's life was stolen from you. the pavement looks the same, the cracks just as they were before, but there's something different now.

a tiny green plant, barely noticeable, growing through the crack in the concrete. the leaves are soft, a rich shade of green that seems to pulse with life. it's small, fragile, but determined, its roots pushing through the cold, unforgiving pavement.

you swallow, the lump in your throat almost choking you.

"satoru..." you whisper to yourself, but your daughter’s voice pulls you from your morbid, breaking thoughts.

"look!"

you glance down, seeing her kneeling beside the plant, her tiny hands reaching out to touch it with wonder in her eyes.

"it's pretty, isn’t it? can i pick it?" she asks, her voice light and innocent.

you nod, tears welling up in your eyes that you refuse to let fall. you hold your breath, trying to steady your heart. it's absurd, you think, how something so small, so simple, could make you feel so much. how something as insignificant as a sprout could make the weight of the world feel just a little bit lighter.

nitrogen, iron and phosphorus are all found in human blood. and hey! they're also needed for plants to grow!

you hear the voice of teenage shoko, kicking her legs back as you tried to finish your homework, right before yaga assigned you another detention. but now the memory comes back to you, sickens you. tears at your heart.

you crouch down beside her, your fingers gently brushing against the plant’s leaves.

"yeah, it's pretty," you whisper, voice barely audible. “best let it rest where it is, yeah?"

you've taken a deep breath and stand up, your daughter tugging you along as she continues on her path, unknowing, innocent. entirely unaware of the memory of her father, lauded as a hero and as a sharp weapon by all those who knew him.

most of those who knew him.

but you glance back at the little plant, the green leaves waving in the soft breeze, and for the first time in months, you don’t feel the crushing weight of grief.

you just feel… a little less lost. and for the first time, the colour green feels like something more than a memory of gojo satoru.

more of a promise for the future, for those who lived on.

[jellyfishsthings]

WARNINGS: stlll angry reader because i am a petty and grudgy (is that a word? I am not sure) queen, death, funny internal monolgue (i am getting good at them) um not exactly smut but suggestive content ... oh and my terrible writing because it has been a while... also how cool is this collage like 🤯

part 1, part 2

The hotel they had been stayed was a little bit dusty and not overcrowded but his family hoarded him like crazy. They were talking his ear of nonstop demanding answers he didn't have once again. His shoulders felt too heavy and he just wanted to sleep. His lovely wife was avoiding him and when she wasn't avoiding him, she glared at him. His heart ached at her presence. How had he screwed up this one lovely thing fate threw in his way?

His family was a calming presence sure. But he didn't crave them the way he needed her, his chosen family. Don't get him wrong he loved his annoying siblings to bits, those little shots were everything he had. But he didn't seek them out the way he did her. He was infuriated with her from day one. He was a trained assassin, a ruthless killer, yet one simple smile from her, as lightly mean teasing comment turned him soft, weak to his knees, ready to do her every bidding. It wasn't healthy ... right?

He was glad she was getting along with his family and overjoyed when she fought by their side in the Sparrow Academy proving to be a valuable asset. He told her as such which resulted in more yelling from her and a fond smirk on his face formed on his lips as he heard his brothers snickering behind his back.

"Asset? You have the nerve to call me an asset?" Her voice could be heard from miles away but his heart flattered at her sight. Her cheeks were read from the fight and a new cut was adorning her right cheekbone and Five couldn't bring himself to care for the scene they were making because she was finally here, next to him, alive and partially unhurt. He would take her anger over her absence. His mind was calmer and he was more rational, less reckless. All he wanted was to grab her angry face and kiss the anger out of her. Was it toxic? Perhaps. Did he need her desperately? Definitely.

The days have gone by with the blink of an eye and as their impending doom approached them he could she her resolve crumbling, she became less harsh with him, tangling their fingers in show of silent support and Five at that moment felt invincible, there was nothing he couldn't do. If he was going to die he was going to die in her arms, he was going to feel her lips against his one last time and he was going to feel her around him again.

The opportunity arised in Luther's crazy wedding. He could understand the sentiment. He had done the same but he thought his marriage was more beautiful than his. His dark green eyes were constantly scanning the room as he consumed one drink after the other. He was going to be hammered beyond recognition and his wife seemed to have the same idea as she mixed drinks and swayed on her feet. She had never looked more beautiful. She had put on a bit weight, yet not enough and all he wanted was to staff her face with her favorite foods to make sure she would stay healthy.

Somehow they had ended up on the dance floor, stumbling over each other's feet as they giggled lightly underneath their breaths. They were watching them closely from the balcony of the room, yet he was so far gone in her that his brain was stuck in that thought as it repeated her name in an endless circle. His fingers ghosted patters in her lower back and he could feel the goosebumps rising at her exposed back. She had been wearing a beautiful dress, the one that resembled THE dress, the one she wore when their relationship started.

Their last night on Earth.

They were going to spend it together.

With a bottle of the strongest whiskey in hand and pulling her by the waist they ended up in an abandoned room as they stumbled and fell on each other. They flopped down on the bed, bouncing on the mattress and the springs groaned from the sudden weight. His jacket had been discarded in a matter of minutes as he pounced on her like an animal would to its prey and kissed her hungrily.

In a matter of minutes their clothes were resting on the carpeted floor and he was inside her moving at a lazy pace, gathering the other in their arms as soft chuckles and moans filled the air between them. For a moment they were back to their weeding night, were they had drunk once again more than it was humanly possible and they recited their vows while they made love. Five had always craved the softeness, the intimacy of this act were you could still be coherent to treasure and worship your other half with receiving and giving pleasure.

"I take you as mine, knowing and loving all of your strengths and faults, just as I offer myself to you as yours with all of my strengths and faults. I will be there for you in your times of need, just as I know I can turn to you when I need a guiding hand."

Tears were slipping past his eyes as he repeated his oath over and over. He had to make her remember just how much he loved her, because if they were going to die, she had to know that she was loved and treasured, and that he would do anything to make thing right once again.

The angry red sky was what greeted them and found them in each other's arms with pounding headaches and disturbed groans. His face was buried in her neck, drawing in her familiar scent, waiting for her wrath to unveil and kick him out. He had stepped over the line last night, they had both been drunk and not clear headed as things went too far. Yet her fingertips drew shaped in his spine and a chill raced in his bones.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was so soft it could have been lost in the mayhem that surrounded them. Five unfurled himself from around her and leaned in his arms staying on top of her, keeping his weight off of her.

"No. Don't do that. I am the one who should be apologizing."

"No... I- look I do not want us to die and still be angry with each other."

"I could never stay angry with you... not for too long at least." He let her startled laugh wash over him and he softly smiled at her as she nuzzled her face on his chest and hugged him close.

"You don't hate me?" She whispered in a defeated voice.

"I could never hate you my love"

words: 1.237

TAGLIST: @js-favnanadoongi @loca4moony @inkedeye2345 @baguettehead @stvrlitsky

[muzaktomyears]

John Lennon and Yoko Ono: his affairs, binges and diet pills

For years the radio host Elliot Mintz was the only person the former Beatle and his wife trusted. Now, he has written a book about his intense relationship with the couple — including what really happened during Lennon’s infamous ‘Lost Weekend’

John Lennon, Yoko Ono and Elliot Mintz outside the Mampei Hotel in Karuizawa, Japan, 1977. Right: Lennon and Ono in 1980

I am holding a pair of glasses. They are antique, made of steel wire and perfectly round. The trademarked name is the Panto 45. This is the 26th pair of John’s glasses I’ve examined on this snowy night in February 1981. It’s been about two months since he was gunned down in New York outside the Dakota, the gothic edifice where he and Yoko Ono had been living since 1973.

I’ve been tasked with the responsibility of inventorying his personal effects so that Yoko, and posterity, would know precisely what he had left behind. I did not want this task. For one thing, I live 2,500 miles from the Dakota, in Los Angeles, where I host a late-night radio interview show. But Yoko asked me to do it, and I have rarely been able to say no to Yoko, let alone John.

I found their idealism infectious and inspiring. Still, as I got to know John and Yoko as flesh-and-blood friends, I began to see their flawed human sides as well.

The trio at a restaurant in Kyoto, 1977

Yoko, for one, was even more airy and ethereal in private than she was in the media. She could be a fountain of aphorisms, dispensing endless nuggets of Zen-like philosophy. Her haiku-esque homilies on manifesting one’s desires or the wisdom of the nonrational mind could be a bit much for some people.

There were moments when even I was a bit baffled by it all. Except then she would say or do something that would absolutely convince me that she was connected to some higher plane.

John, meanwhile, was every bit as charming, funny and intelligent as he came across in public. But I gradually discovered he was far from perfect. For starters, for a guy who aspired to be a world-shaking peacemaker — a thought leader on a par with Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr and Nelson Mandela — he was surprisingly uninformed about historic figures like, well, Gandhi, King and Mandela.

He also had some Luddite-like notions about science, particularly medicine, extending well beyond his annoyance at “daddy doctors” for not letting him perform his own weight-loss injections. Even though John had smoked, ingested or snorted just about every illegal recreational drug he could get his hands on, he was weirdly suspicious of the ones that were properly prescribed and proven efficacious.

Lennon and Ono on The Dick Cavett Show, 1971

John and Yoko could be incredibly sensitive, honest, provocative, caring, creative, generous and wise. They could also be self-centred, desperate, vain, petty and annoying. In John’s case, also shockingly cruel — even to Yoko.

An example…

Early one morning in November 1972, the red ceiling light that would flash whenever my hotline to John and Yoko rang started blinking. I picked up.

“Ellie, I f***ed up,” were the first words out of John’s mouth.

“Why?” I groggily asked. “What did you do?”

“We were at this party last night,” he said, “and I got loaded. And there was a girl…”

I sat up in bed.

The party was at Jerry Rubin’s Greenwich Village apartment. A small crowd of well-connected peaceniks had gathered to watch the presidential election returns on television. As it became clear that Richard Nixon would win re-election by a landslide, the mood grew bleaker and the crowd began drinking more heavily.

Alcohol was not John’s friend and on this occasion, John’s evil inner gremlins truly outdid themselves.

I got some of the specifics from a hungover John during his morning-after call. The upshot was that John had indeed hit it off with some girl at the party and had slipped into a bedroom with her, where they proceeded to have such loud, raucous sex that everyone sitting around the TV in Rubin’s living room — including Yoko — could clearly hear them going at it.

Lennon and Mintz in 1972

At one point, a well-meaning guest put a record on the turntable — Bob Dylan’s 11-minute ballad Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands — at high volume. Yoko sat on the sofa in stunned, mortified silence.

Whatever they said to each other later, I suspect the conversation was not a pleasant one.

“I slept on the sofa,” John told me, sounding defeated and embarrassed — although, frankly, not quite as contrite as I thought his situation warranted. “Things like that happen,” he said, way too matter-of-factly for my taste. “A bloke cheats on his wife… If I weren’t famous, nobody would care.”

Yoko, unsurprisingly, felt differently.

“Are you OK?” I gently asked her when I phoned to check in on her a few hours later.

“There is no answer to that question,” she said shakily.

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive him?”

“I can forgive him,” she said. “But I don’t know if I can ever forget what happened. I don’t know if it will ever be the same.”

After a few weeks of cooling down, though — during which Yoko wrote and recorded Death of Samantha, her bluesy ode to burying one’s pain for the sake of outward appearances — the crisis seemed to abate. John and Yoko chose to roll the cosmic dice with a spectacular gesture of faith and hope in the staying power of their love. They bought an apartment in the Dakota.

“It’s apartment No 72,” Yoko announced when she called to tell me about the purchase. “Do you see the significance?”

Lennon’s 38th birthday party, 1978

When you add seven and two, you get nine, Yoko explained, which was a hugely significant numeral to the Lennons, a magic integer that seemed to mysteriously recur throughout John’s life. Yoko would rattle off the number’s many repeated appearances: John was born on October 9. She was born on February 18 (1 plus 8). Paul McCartney’s last name has nine letters…

I was somewhat mystified as to why they chose this particular neighbourhood. “Aren’t you worried it’ll be too stuffy for you?” I asked John. “Will the people who live there even know who you are?”

“I don’t want them to know who we are,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t want to know who they are. We just want to be left alone.”

The Dakota struck me as one of the most eerily beautiful — and oddly daunting — structures in all of New York. John and Yoko greeted me in the vaulted vestibule, eager to begin our tour, which started on the ground floor with the new headquarters for Studio One, the business entity behind John and Yoko’s creative enterprises. Tellingly, John did not have an office in Studio One; Yoko did.

The main attraction was on the seventh floor. It was nearly 5,000sq ft, with massive windows offering eye-popping views of Central Park. Virtually everything in its expansive living room, from the plush carpeting to the grand Steinway piano, was as white as Japanese snowbells.

Lennon, Ono and Mintz at a Shinto temple in Kyoto. The custom was to hang your horoscope on a line

There was only one highly conspicuous work of art in the White Room: a Plexiglass case on a white pedestal, in which was a 3,000-year-old sarcophagus. John and Yoko had scored the very last mummy allowed out of Egypt before the Egyptian government put a ban on exporting their national antiquities.

“You should x-ray it and see what’s inside,” I suggested. “There might be something of great value, like precious jewels.”

“I don’t care what’s inside,” Yoko responded. “The great value is the magic of the mummy itself.”

Another thing I clearly remember about that long afternoon at the Dakota was how enthusiastic both John and Yoko seemed about the life they were building together in this new nest. John giddily described the “entertainment centre” he wanted to construct in a nook off the kitchen. Yoko, ever the artist, chattered about the endless design ideas she had. It was all too easy to forget about the pain and stress they’d been dealing with. I managed to convince myself that the worst was over for John and Yoko. I was wrong.

There are those who believe Yoko not only approved of the affair but arranged it. That she planted May Pang in the seat next to John on that American Airlines flight from New York to Los Angeles knowing full well what was likely to happen. That their comely 23-year-old assistant would sooner or later end up sleeping with her husband.

It’s possible, I suppose. It could be she saw some strategic long-term advantage in setting up the affair; by handpicking John’s mistress, she might have felt she could exert some dominion over his extramarital wanderings. Perhaps, thanks to her mystical advisers, she really did see that John was heading for a free fall and was endeavouring to soften his inevitable crash.

If any of that is true, though, Yoko never breathed a word of it to me. All she said in October 1973 was that she was sending John and an assistant to LA. Could I please meet them at the airport?

With his assistant and lover, May Pang, 1974

I was by then aware that their marriage was in deep trouble. Despite their best efforts to mend the relationship, the red light on my bedroom ceiling had been blinking even more feverishly than usual leading up to what would later be known as John’s “Lost Weekend”, the 18 months he spent in exile from his wife in New York.

Yoko’s demeanour back then, as always, was not demonstrably emotional but it was clear from our phone conversations that she was in pain. John’s calls were every bit as depressing.

“Has Mother been talking to you about us?” he asked during one early morning chat.

“Yoko talks to me about everything,” I answered vaguely.

“The other day I shaved and got dressed up and told her I wanted to take her to her favourite restaurant and she turned me down,” he lamented. “She said she didn’t have time. Me own f***ing wife said that to me!”

Yoko has always been a methodical person, and my guess is that she precisely and carefully orchestrated John’s eviction from the Dakota. John might not have even realised what was happening to him. He certainly didn’t seem like a man who’d been kicked out of his home when I met him and May Pang at LA airport.

“You look trim, Ellie,” he said with a big grin when I greeted them. “Have you been taking those diet pills again?”

They had very little luggage, suggesting that neither of them was expecting a long stay. My instructions from Yoko were to drive them to music manager Lou Adler’s house in Bel Air, a mini-mansion up on Stone Canyon Road.

“I need some money,” John said as we settled into my weary old Jaguar. “Mother said these could be used for money,” John continued, shoving a fistful of traveller’s cheques in my hand.

The couple outside the Dakota building in New York, 1980. They bought an apartment there in 1973

John was functionally a child when it came to taking care of himself. But then, that was what May was for. Whatever other intentions Yoko may or may not have had for the assistant, her primary job was to make sure John was properly fed and cared for, that all his basic needs — or at least most of them — were satisfied.

John and I spent a lot of time together over the next several weeks. He was also expanding his friendship circle in LA, hanging out with people like Harry Nilsson, the brilliant but notoriously hell-raising singer-songwriter. But after three or four months, much of his initial enthusiasm had boiled off and his mood was starting to curdle. He was missing Yoko: he began asking me when I thought she’d be ready for him to come home. He started spending more and more time with Nilsson, drinking at the Troubadour till all hours. After John famously got thrown out for drunkenly heckling the Smothers Brothers, the late-night shenanigans moved to the Rainbow Bar & Grill on Sunset. That’s where John and Harry and a collection of others — including my old pals Micky Dolenz and Alice Cooper — formed an infamous drinking club known as the Hollywood Vampires.

It would be difficult to exaggerate the level of unbridled indulgences that took place in the Rainbow’s VIP room, a small alcove atop some stairs overlooking the bar. The amount of alcohol imbibed was staggering, to say the least, and there were also small bags of cocaine discreetly passed into the room. Nilsson, a great big bear of a man, could pound down a dozen or so brandy alexanders — a potent mix of brandy and cream, his cocktail of choice, which John soon adopted as his own — in a single sitting.

Not being a celebrity, I was never invited to become a member of the Hollywood Vampires, but I was a welcome visitor and spent many a late night on the edges of their wild, sometimes harrowing saturnalias.

Lennon with his Hollywood Vampires drinking partners, from left, Harry Nilsson, Alice Cooper and Micky Dolenz, November 1973

There was always a crowd of attractive young women at the bottom of the steps leading to the Vampires’ VIP lair. Frankly, though, by the time the boys descended, usually at closing time, most of them were too wasted to take advantage of the opportunity. I lost count of the number of times I all but carried John down those stairs and poured him into whatever car service I had called to the bar’s car park.

For the most part, I kept my promise to Yoko: I kept John safe. But one night, I realised things were starting to spiral out of my control. Normally, John didn’t put up much of a fight when I helped him down the stairs at the Rainbow Bar but on this occasion, he resisted. He didn’t want to go home.

He pushed away and dived straight into the crowd. It was my worst nightmare: a drunken star lost inside a drunken mob.

Finally, I spotted John with Nilsson at the edge of the car park, the two of them climbing into the back of a black limousine. A moment later, it pulled away into the night, going I had no idea where.

John, I realised with a sinking feeling in my gut, was slipping away.

I was about to walk into the nadir of the Lost Weekend, John’s rock bottom. The call came not on the hotline but my regular house phone, and the voice on the other end identified himself as a security officer working for Phil Spector. John was in trouble: could I please hurry over to Adler’s house and help “calm him down”.

What I saw when I stepped into Adler’s living room some 20 minutes later looked like a scene out of The Exorcist. Drunk and wild-eyed, John was strapped to a high-backed chair, his arms and legs restrained with ropes, which he was struggling against with all his might as he shouted obscenities at his captors, a pair of beefy-armed bodyguards who stood in awkward silence nearby. The place was a shambles. John had torn some of Adler’s framed gold records off the walls and smashed them to pieces. Bits of broken wood and shattered Plexiglass littered the floor.

The couple in Selfridges in London where Ono was signing copies of her book Grapefruit, July 1971

Apparently, the meltdown had started earlier that evening at the studio, where John and Phil had nearly come to blows. What precisely they were arguing about, nobody seemed to remember. But the session ended early with Phil’s guards restraining John and shuttling him to Adler’s house, where John slipped away from them long enough to pick up some sort of walking stick or cane, which he swung wildly around the living room until the guards were able to subdue him.

I slowly stepped up to John, who had stopped shouting. His head hung low on his shoulders, his chest heaving furiously. After a long beat, he slowly lifted his eyes to me. He looked possessed.

“Get these ropes off me!” he erupted. “Get them off me, you…”

And then John spat out an epithet so hurtful and offensive, I can’t bring myself to repeat it.

I looked straight into his eyes, barely containing my disgust and disappointment. He looked back into mine. And that exchange of glances seemed to reach some shred of humanity buried deep in John’s alcohol-addled brain. Suddenly he became very, very quiet.

After a moment or two, I turned to the guards. “I think you can take those ropes off him,” I said. “I think he’s done.”

John stood up, rubbed his wrists and, without another word, slowly made his way down the hall to the bedroom, where he must have collapsed on the mattress and passed out.

The next day, as I was getting ready to leave for work, the hotline started flashing.

“Ellie?” John said. “I’m sorry for what I said. But if you think about it, if that’s the worst thing I could say about you, you couldn’t be all that bad, right?”

“Thanks for the compliment,” I said.

“Well, welcome to the real world, Mother Virgin Mary. I’m me. I have a big mouth and express meself the way I feel when I feel it. I don’t hide behind some microphone. I sing into it or speak into it when it suits me. I’m not always the Imagine guy or the Jealous Guy or the Walrus. So I said I’m sorry to you. That’s all I can do.

Lennon and Ono in 1972

“Do you want to have dinner?”

“No,” I answered. “I think I’m going to take the night off.”

For the first time I can remember, I was the one who hung up the phone.

Obviously, our friendship took a hit after the incident at Adler’s house; how could it not? For the next several months, John and I barely spent time together — at least, not in person. We would talk almost every day on the phone, as we always had, and eventually our rapport began to feel as easy and familiar as ever. But I no longer joined him for evenings at the Troubadour or the Rainbow.

John, meanwhile, had shifted from the mayhem of the Spector sessions to the slightly lesser bedlam of producing a record for his pal Harry Nilsson. The most notable thing about the Pussy Cats sessions was who else was in the room. Ringo Starr sat in on drums. And although it never made it onto Nilsson’s album, another ex-Beatle unexpectedly turned up and even sang with John, the first time the two of them had performed together since the Beatles split.

I wasn’t present but later heard that Paul McCartney and his wife, Linda, had popped in without warning, bringing Stevie Wonder with them. According to those who were there, John and Paul seemed to pick up their friendship as if they were teenagers again, but when John told me about it later, he was kind of dismissive about it, saying, “They were all just looking at us, thinking that something big was going to happen. To me, it was just playing with Paul.”

Lennon with Harry Nilsson, left, outside the Troubadour club in West Hollywood, having just been ejected for heckling a performance by the Smothers Brothers, March 12, 1974

What John didn’t know, though, was that, according to Yoko, Paul had an ulterior motive for the visit. A few days earlier, she had called me to explain the machinations behind the visit.

Yoko told me she spoke with Paul, who offered to speak with John. “I thought it was very kind,” she said. “I was very appreciative. But I made it very clear to Paul that it wasn’t something I was asking him to do. It would have to be Paul’s idea, not mine.”

To me, there was never any question that John desperately wanted to get back with Yoko. Yes, he had feelings for May, yet at some point during virtually every phone call I had with him, John would sooner or later beseech me to talk to Yoko on his behalf. “Tell Mother I’m ready to come home, Ellie. Tell her I’m a changed man.”

“I don’t think she wants to hear it from me,” I would say. “She wants you to show it to her.”

Paul, I later heard, gave John similar advice. Sometime after popping into the studio in Burbank, he sat down with John and laid out, step by step, what he would need to do to win Yoko back.

It’s impossible to say if Paul’s presentation was what did it, or if John experienced some other epiphany around that time, but over the ensuing months he did indeed begin to clean up his act. In the summer of 1974, he started working on his next album, Walls and Bridges, regularly flying to New York for rehearsals and recordings at the Record Plant on West 44th Street. By all accounts, those sessions were entirely professional, with John showing up 100 per cent sober every day.

At the Grammy Awards in New York, March 1, 1975

Then, as work on the album neared completion, John made a fateful decision: he decided not to wait any longer for Yoko’s invitation to return to New York. Instead, towards the end of the summer, he and May rented an apartment of their own on the Upper East Side. It was a small but comfortable place that had a wraparound balcony with spectacular views of the East River.

When I flew to New York to tape some interviews, I took the opportunity to pay them a visit — my first face-to-face meeting with John since the ugliness at Adler’s house. It was an awkward encounter for numerous reasons. For one thing, I had just spent an afternoon with Yoko at the Dakota, some 20 blocks away; taking a cab across town to John and May’s felt something akin to betrayal.

Perhaps sensing my apprehension, May gave me a wide berth, leaving to make some phone calls in a bedroom while John and I stood together on the balcony, catching up.

“Does this make you feel uneasy?” John asked after a beat.

“You mean being here with you and May? Yes, a little,” I admitted. “It just reminds me of the fact that you and Mother are still separated, and that makes me sad.”

“Well, that’s the way Mother wants it,” he said. “At least for now.”

Then, unexpectedly, he wrapped his arm over my shoulders and added, “Don’t look so glum, me boy. Put on your radio face. There’s nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be.”

It was one of the few times he’d quoted a line to me from a Beatles song.

Walls and Bridges was released a month or so later. John sent a prereleased signed copy (“To my little dream lover on ice, with love and old pianos,” he wrote, referring to my affection for Bobby Darin’s hit song).

As it happened, Elton John had joined John on keyboards for one song on the album. Elton made a bet with John. If the song was a hit, John would have to perform at Elton’s upcoming concert at Madison Square Garden. John agreed, never imagining he’d have to honour that promise.

Of course, Elton was spot on: Whatever Gets You Thru the Night did indeed become John’s first No 1 solo single. And so it came to pass that, in November 1974, onstage at Madison Square Garden, in front of thousands and thousands of fans, that the Lost Weekend finally began to fade to a finish.

Lennon’s surprise appearance at Elton John’s concert at Madison Square Garden, November 28, 1974

The details of what exactly transpired backstage that night remain, 50 years later, shrouded in some mystery. What is known is that Yoko, who’d been invited to the concert by Elton’s manager, was in the audience. She couldn’t have been prepared for the reaction around her when Elton announced, about two thirds into the concert, that he was bringing John onto the stage for his first public performance in two years. The crowd went berserk.

After the show, Elton’s manager approached Yoko and told her that Elton had requested her presence in his dressing room. Yoko was led backstage to a door with a star on it. She knocked, the entrance opened, and inside she saw her husband standing there, alone.

I cannot tell you what happened after the dressing room door closed behind them. Nobody but Yoko knows that, and she has never shared with me any details. What I can tell you is that in the weeks and months that followed, there must have been many more rendezvous as Yoko and John re-established their connection, even as he continued living with May in their East Side apartment.

According to one of May’s early accounts, John was ultimately hypnotised into ending his relationship with her; she has long claimed that Yoko hired a mesmerist to help John quit smoking but that it was all a ruse to brainwash him into splitting up with her so he could return to Yoko. To this day, many people believe that story. But I know for certain that it wasn’t true. Because, as it happens, I’m the one who arranged the hypnotist.

Yoko had nothing to do with it.

John had remembered that I had interviewed a hypnotist on my radio show and asked me if he might be able to help him kick nicotine.

At the Lincoln Center in New York, circa 1975

I called the hypnotist, planned for him to fly to New York, booked him a room in a Midtown hotel, and set up an appointment with John. In just about every respect, though, the hypnosis was a total bust. John told me immediately afterwards he was never put under; the hypnotist claimed John was but just couldn’t remember. The hypnotist also turned out to be something of a diva. He disliked his hotel — he thought the desk clerks were rude — and checked out the next day, flying back to LA in a huff.

John didn’t quit smoking, not for a minute, so it’s hard to imagine the hypnotist had succeeded in brainwashing him into anything else — like, say, leaving a lover. But the very next day, John did break it off with May and returned to the Dakota, resuming his marriage to Yoko and ending, at last, the long and lonely winter that had been the Lost Weekend. He called me in LA shortly afterwards to share the happy news.

He said, “Let the media know the separation did not work.”

‘He’d weigh himself twice a day’

Elliot Mintz on his friendship with John and Yoko. By Georgina Roberts

When a red light in Elliot Mintz’s bedroom flashed, it meant that John Lennon or Yoko Ono was calling him on a special hotline. “In an average week, 20 hours of phone conversation would not be unusual,” the 79-year-old former radio DJ and talk-show host says from his Beverly Hills living room.

Mintz describes the friendship with the couple that “dominated” nine years of his life as “almost a kind of marriage”. He was taken aback when Ono called him in 1971 to thank him for not asking about Lennon when he interviewed her on his radio show. When they began to speak for hours at night, she batted away his concern that her husband might get jealous, saying, “Aren’t you giving yourself a little too much credit, Elliot?”

Lennon first called Mintz to ask if he could get him fat-melting pills. “That was my first conversation with John Lennon. It wasn’t philosophical. It wasn’t about Elvis or the Beatles. It was about weight loss,” he says. Sometimes Lennon would weigh himself twice a day and the couple “were obsessive about diet”.

In Hotel Okura in Tokyo, October 1975

After six months of speaking, the couple summoned him to meet them in Ojai, California, where they were trying to kick a methadone addiction. Ono barely spoke until she was in a bathroom with the tap running. “She whispered to me, ‘This house is bugged. Everything we say here, they’re listening. So you have to be very careful what you say.’ ” FBI files released years later showed that Ono wasn’t being paranoid. President Nixon had placed the couple under surveillance after rumours they planned to disrupt his convention, Mintz says.

His clandestine friendship with the couple wreaked havoc on his love life. When he couldn’t explain whom he’d been speaking to in the middle of the night, one love interest assumed he was married and stormed out. “I realised at that moment that my love life would have to take a back seat to my relationship with John and Yoko,” he says.

There were times when lines were crossed in the friendship. One morning, Lennon summoned Mintz to kick out a girl who’d stayed the night. “I told him, ‘Please don’t ask me to do something like that again.’ He flipped out. He said, ‘I will effing ask you to do anything that I feel like asking you to do. Do you understand that?’ ” Mintz was hurt and offended. The next day was one of the few times he said no to “grabbing a bite” with Lennon.

Becoming parents was “the biggest game-changer” for the couple. After his son Sean was delivered via caesarean section in 1975, “John was outraged that when Yoko was clearly struggling, doctors would come up to him and say, ‘I’ve always dreamt of shaking your hand.’ He would bark at them, ‘Look after me wife!’ ”

While Lennon threw himself into childcare, Ono, who came from a banking dynasty, handled the couple’s finances. After becoming stratospherically famous so young, Lennon was “clueless” about money. “I doubt if John was ever in a supermarket, went to a bank, wrote a cheque. That’s what Yoko did,” Mintz says. “If not for Yoko, there’d be no money in the Lennon-Ono estate today.”

A drawing by Lennon on a postcard from Japan sent to Mintz in 1977

The first time Mintz met their son, Lennon said protectively, “Not too close. Germs.” “He said, ‘Look, we were going to make you the godfather, but we decided on Elton, because he would at least give him better Christmas presents.’ ” “This is typical John,” Mintz says.

Sean would only spend five years with his father before Lennon was murdered outside the Dakota in December 1980. Lennon had always “poo-pooed” Mintz’s requests for him to employ more security. “John said, ‘I’m just a rock’n’roll singer. Who would want to hurt me?’ ”

When Mintz speaks about learning of Lennon’s murder from a weeping flight attendant, his honeyed radio-presenter voice cracks with emotion. “Even now, after all these years, just thinking about that moment…” He trails off. The most gut-wrenching of his responsibilities was making an inventory of Lennon’s possessions. When he signed for a stapled brown paper bag that came from the hospital where Lennon was taken after he was shot, he could not bear to open it. “It was what John was wearing, what he had on him when he fell, including his broken, bloodied glasses.”

He is reticent about his friendship with Ono today. “I want to give her a sense of privacy,” he says, but adds, “It still feels like family. I still love her dearly.” The last time he saw her was at her 91st birthday in February. It was there that Sean encouraged Mintz to write his book, We All Shine On. Does he think Ono will like it? “I’ve never tried to predict a Yoko Ono conclusion.”

How different would his life be if he had never met the couple? “I could have got married. Could have had children.” Were the sacrifices worth it? “Of course. I got to spend that amount of my time with these two extraordinary people.”

We All Shine On: John, Yoko, & Me by Elliot Mintz (Bantam, £25).

(source)

[merthosus]

Wounded nights

Summary: In the quiet of the night, you and Five exchange sharp words, your usual bickering escalating. But when your exhaustion breaks through, Five's demeanor shifts unexpectedly as he offers a rare moment of comfort. The tension between you crackles as he pulls you close, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless.

Here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

"It all felt so right, and yet so wrong"

You and Five never got along, constantly arguing and bickering. You’re not surprised to see him having coffee this late at night. With a deep breath you stride into the kitchen, hoping to pass without him noticing.

“What are you doing here?” Five asks, raising an eyebrow, his green eyes piercing into yours. "Pouring myself a nice cup of tea", you tell him. You go to the counter and take a cup out of the kitchen cabinet. He leans back in his seat, observing you. “Tea? Seriously?” he says, his tone dripping with skepticism. "Do I need to know what's wrong with it?", you ask while putting the kattle on. He scoffs at your response. “It’s just stupid, what’s the point of drinking hot leaf water this late?”

"What's the deal with coffee beans, shredded and put in hot water? You know what, forget it, I don't have time for this now", you tell him while waiting inpatient for the kattle to be ready. Usually you liked this kind of bickering with him but today you weren't in the mood, especially after this mission. He smirked at your comment before letting out a scoff. “Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist, darling. I’m just saying coffee is a lot more useful than that tea crap", he says. "Listen here dipshit. It's FUCKING 3 am and I can't sleep, SO DRINKING COFFEE WOULD NOT HELP", you yell. "Ok, so I had a very bad day so please, not now five alright?", you explain to him.

He sat in stunned silence for a few moments, surprised by your outbursts. You rarely raised your voice to him. His usual sarcastic comments died on his tongue as he looked at you, really looked, and saw the exhaustion in your eyes. He sighs, his expression softening. “…I…I apologize. I shouldn’t be picking on you this late. You’ve had a hard day?” "Forget it Five", you say while hiding the tears in your eyes. You squad down to grab a tea bag.

He stares at you for a few moments before sighing again. “..Why can’t you sleep?” he asks, his usually sharp tone soften, something unfamiliar to him. The sight of you trying to fight back tears was also a new sight. He’d never seen you this vulnerable. It stirred something inside of him he couldn’t quite identify. "I don't know, maybe the moon or something, ask Luther he would love to talk about it", you lie while still searching for the tea. He rolled his eyes seeing through your lie.

“Bullshit the moon. I’m not as stupid as the rest of them, darling. Tell me.” he says firmly, crossing his arms. "Cut the darling bullshit, you getting on my nerves", you say. "I just want a tea", you exclaim still searching the whole cabinet. You wipe a few tears away to see better. He raised an incredulous eyebrow, the sight of you trying to fight back tears caught him off guard, causing his heart to squeeze in a way he had never felt before. He stood up and walked over next to you, his eyes flickering to the cabinet.

“You didn’t answer my question.” he said, his voice firm yet surprisingly softer. He could tell you were on the verge of crying. "You letting me alone when I tell you?", you ask not looking up at him. He paused for a few moments before sighing. He leaned against the counter, arms still crossed but his gaze softened as he looked at you. “..If you answer truthfully, yes”, he says. "Dad sent me on a hard mission....", you try your hardest to fight back your tears. "I killed a child, five", you let the last sentence out with a hard cry, falling together.

Five’s heart dropped to his stomach as he heard you confess. He had never seen you so fragile. He knelt beside you, seeing the tears streaming down your face and his chest tightened, the unusual feeling he had before intensifying. He hated seeing you so broken. He reaches out and hesitantly put his hand on your shoulder, not sure what to say but hating the sound of your sobs. "Fuck...", he mutters. You look up at him. Reginald always made you do things they didn't want to do, but this goes too far.

He meets your gaze and he clenches his jaw. You look so broken and small, something he had never seen before. He sees how tears stream down your cheeks and your lip trembles as you try to hold back more tears. The sight of it causes a wave of emotions inside of him, but he pushes them down as best he can. He swallows thickly and speaks, his voice hoarse. “..Why did you have to.. kill the kid?”. "He didn't tell me why, he told me a name and that was it", you say while still heavenly crying. "I hate myself", you let your head fall into your hands.

The sound of you hating yourself makes his heart ache. He wants to argue, to get you to stop thinking like that, but he doesn’t know how. He’s never been in this situation before, not even with his siblings. But seeing you so broken, he couldn’t stand it. He moved closer, sitting next to you, leaning his back onto the cabinet. He still had no idea how to deal with this, but he had to say something, anything.

“Hey, listen to me, darling”. He stares into your eyes, his gaze intense, almost pleading. “Listen to me carefully, yeah? I don’t want to hear you hating yourself, ever. You hear me?” he says firmly, his hand still on your shoulder. Something about seeing you this vulnerable was driving him insane. You suddently ignore the fact, that you hate each other and fall into his arms, burring your face into his neck. He froze, caught off guard as you do this, sitting on his lap. For a moment he just sits there, not sure what to do. He’s never been this close to you before, let alone held by you, he’s not sure what to do. In a tentative, almost awkward motion, he slowly raises his hands and gently wraps his arms around you, holding you as you cry into him.

You sob and pull yourself closer to him. He can feel his heartbeat picking up as you press closer to him, resting your head against his chest. He swallows thickly as he holds you, his arms instinctively holding you tighter against him. The sound of your sobs, the feeling of your body warmth, it’s overwhelming but he can’t bring himself to let go. Instead, he gently rests his chin on top of your head, silently hating the situation that led to this.

"Thank you five", you whisper. He’s silent for another few moments, simply holding you. Hearing your small voice made something in his chest clench. He gently runs a hand over your hair, trying to soothe you. He sighs before answering you. “…don’t mention it, darling”. It feels like his torso is pulling all of the sadness out of you. Without even realizing he’s doing it, he continues to slowly brush his fingers through your hair as he holds you. It’s such an intimate, soft action, something he’s never done before with anyone. The feeling of you against him, the sound of your breathing slowly becoming steady as the minutes pass by, it all makes his heart race. He had no idea why.

With every stroke your heart lights up and with every breath of his scent your eyes go heavier. He didn’t know how long he sat there, holding you, his fingers gently running through your hair, hearing the sound of your breathing calming down. Every few moments he glances down at you, seeing your eyes slowly start to flutter shut. It doesn’t take much for him to notice your growing exhaustion. He gently shifts his body slightly, still holding you, but now leaning comfortably back into the cabinets as he continued to hold you, his fingers still running through your hair. As you begin to fall asleep, your hand falls down onto his. On the vague of falling asleep, you wait for his reaction.

He feels your hand fall down onto his and hesitates for a moment before gently intertwining your fingers together, silently holding your hand. He glances down at you and sees your eyes half-lidded, tiredness washing over you. Seeing you so exhausted, he gently rubs his thumb over your hand, his heart clenching in his chest. You fall asleep on this shoulder, whole body connected with his. Your one arm hanging loose over his other shoulder and the other one hand intertwined with his fingers. Your thighs on the sides of his and your hand hanging in his neck. His other hand is hanging down your thigh.

He stays there like that for a while, holding you as you slept, his mind whirling with conflicting thoughts. He should get up and take you to your room, he knows that. But he also didn’t want to wake you, and he silently enjoys the feel of you against him. He also knows how awkward it’ll be when you wake and realize the position you’re in, and yet he still holds you and gently runs his fingers through your hair, trying to pretend to himself that he doesn’t want this.

He looks down at you, his eyes tracing over your sleeping face. You looked so different while you slept, so peaceful, so vulnerable. The sight of you so close to him makes his heart constrict in his chest. He swallows thickly, cursing himself for not pushing you away already. He lets his head rest against yours, his face buried in your hair. He keeps his arms around you, holding you close, the sound of your breathing causing his heart to race. But despite himself, he slowly finds himself growing more and more tired. The feeling of you against him, along with the exhaustion of the past few minutes, causes his eyes to slowly close as he drifts off to sleep with you still in his arms.

As he drifts off to sleep, he subconsciously tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer against him, his face still buried in your hair. The sound of your heartbeat, the feeling of your body against his, the scent of you so near him, it’s all overwhelming, but he didn’t care. He just held you tighter, his mind too tired to think straight, and slowly fell deeper into sleep. He stays asleep for hours, arms still holding you closely, face still buried in your hair. The sound of your breathing gently lulling him into a deep sleep, he didn’t even move an inch. The feeling of you against him, the scent of you, it all felt so right, and yet so wrong at the same time. He never thought he would find himself in this situation, and yet here he was, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

(This story is a chat with character Ai. I made this story with him and thought that this was so cute that I needed to share it with you guys. I also revised it and wrote a few things different)

Here Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/merthosus/760008884646772736/wounded-nights-part-2-summary-thats-not?source=share

[ahaura]

here's a resource to consider for those interested in/involved in/new to organizing: [PDF] the CIA's Simple Sabotague Field Menu (pub. 1944)

an excerpt from the section "General Interference with Organizations and Productions"

1. Insist on doing everything through “channels.” Never permit short-cuts to be taken in order to expedite decisions. 2. Make “speeches.” Talk as frequently as possible and at great length. Illustrate your "points" by long anecdotes and accounts of personal experiences. Never hesitate to make a few patriotic comments. 3. When possible, refer all matters to committees, for “further study and consideration.” Attempt to make the committees as large as possible—never less than five. 4. Bring up irrelevant issues as frequently as possible. 5. Haggle over precise wordings of communications, minutes, resolutions. 6. Refer back to matters decided upon at the last meeting and attempt to re-open the question of the advisability of that decision. 7. Demand written orders. 8. “Misunderstand” orders. Ask endless questions or engage in long correspondence about such orders. Quibble over them when you can. 9. Do everything possible to delay the delivery of orders. Even though parts of an order may be ready beforehand, don’t deliver it until it is completely ready.

+ i would encourage people to read up on instances such as how the FBI sent Martin Luther King, Jr. a letter to get him to kill himself (+ Wikipedia), as well as the FBI infiltrating and harassing the Black Panthers for years (+ scan of 1974 Ann Arbor issue). There's also COINTELPRO, the FBI's widespread efforts to target, surveil, infiltrate, discredit, and disrupt various political parties domestically (+ 50 years ago, the exposure of FBI "undemocratic abuses" against civil rights and anti-war activists). Given the systematic punishing and push back against advocating for Palestinian rights and liberation, i would also advise people to read up on McCarthyism and the Red Scare (Wikipedia, National Archives, Miller Center) + The Attacks on Academic Freedom During the McCarthy Era, to start with.

it's important to read up on and understand the history of organizing in the U.S. and how the government has targeted liberation movements (particularly led by black and brown people). it is also important to be aware of tactics that have been used to sow dissent within pro-liberation/left-leaning organizations.

[shadowbriar]

Diego Hargreeves - Patches

Pairing : Diego Hargreeves x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 1.2k Warning : None. Notes : This might be the introduction of a story I'm working on. I cannot guarantee that I'll have the commitment to continue until it's end so don't have too much hope for this. I am open if you have any The Umbrella Academy requests at the moment, so do hit me up! If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

He got eight of them.

For the longest time in her life, she’s never understood the silly yet cruel joke life cursed upon her. To be able to heal everyone but herself, no matter the wound or injury one might have, she’ll cure it in no time, so long as it wasn’t inflicted on her.

Once, it wasn’t this pathetic nor lonely. She had her brothers and sisters to weather to storm through. There were Pogo and Mum to share cookies and stories with. It’s been years since she felt such comfort and to have to drag her feet back to the house that had turned itself from a warm home into a prison before the last days of her departure is surely weighing on her heart.

“Welcome home, dear.”

Her heart was filled with warmth once the familiar motherly voice greets her. The corners of her lips curved into a big smile as she dropped her bags, running to the dearly missed figure, “Mum.”

It took the bot a couple seconds to return the embrace. No doubt that she’s been lacking a lot of upgrades ever since she left. When the two broke the hug, she stared at the ageless caregiver with fulfilled eyes as it stared back at her with its bright smile, blank and not blinking. This might have been the most home she could feel while she’s here.

“You’re not supposed to come,” another voice echoes from the stairs.

“Diego, that’s not very nice.” Mum scolded lightly “Your sister has returned to us.”

The boy showed a thin smile to the bot, patting her lightly on the shoulder, “I think Pogo was looking for you, Mum.”

With a slight nod, the android excused herself out of the room.

Now if Grace’s presence lightened her heart, the sight of this black suited man certainly plummets it.

“You look awful,” She greets, noticing the scars that litter his face “Surely couldn’t find a better nurse than me now, can you?”

“Please,” Diego snorted “You’re more of a deadweight than a nurse, if ever.”

Ouch.

She lets out an exasperated exhale, folding her hands in front of her chest in defence, “Well, I’m not here for you and I don’t take joy either on coming back to this circus, so if you could just get yourself off that non-existent high horse—”

Before she could finish her words, Diego had already walked away as if she wasn’t there to begin with. His back becomes the abundant evidence that whatever bad blood they had years ago is still staining his skin.

It wasn’t always like this, him and her. In fact, they were the inseparable two growing up. If Luther had Allison, Diego had her. The many times she healed his wounds had led them to grow closer as the years went by. He was the one with the most injury to heal, after all. The most careless in battle out of the eight, never backing down from a close combat. Though he would always come out triumphant, a little cut here and there would be something he never escaped from.

“Don’t mind him, he’s giving us all the sour comments,” Allison said as she linked her arms to her “I’m glad to see you.”

She smiles at her sister, squeezing her hand slightly in reassurance, “As I am to see you.”

—-

“You should really learn how to dodge a punch, Diego,” She says as she runs her thumb through his bruise “One of these days you’re going to go home and I may not be able to heal you.”

“Is that a loss on your part or my part?”

Her eyebrow rose, purposely pressing on his bruise without healing it that he winces a little, “Or maybe I just won’t heal you, that’s definitely a loss on your part.”

“As if you’ll ever do that.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Diego tries his best to bite the grin but it proved to be an even harder task than to back out of a fight. He stares at her fondly, finding the jitters in his stomach to amplify the longer he stares yet it feels impossible for him to break the contact. Perhaps she casts a little of her magic everytime she heals him.

“Don’t stare at me like that.”

“Like what?” He asks.

“Like Klaus stares at a bottle of gin,” She says, now examining his other cuts “Like I stare at Mum’s cookies.”

Diego smiles.

“Like Luther stares at Allison.”

“Would it be so bad if I stare that way?”

The wake from the unintended nap hurts her head. Her bed is much smaller than she last remembered with her feet slightly dangling on the edge and how the pillows have certainly lost their fluffiness. Everything in her room stays the same yet at the same time, everything has changed.

—-

Diego defeatedly threw himself to the sofa. He sighs, his knuckles cracking as he tries to ball his fists. The tidal wave of emotions were beating him black and blue in silence. It feels as if he was swallowed by a giant blackhole with no light nor guidance to get out of.

There was no need for him to be rude to her, he knew that. He didn’t want to do it, but seeing her back in their house, hugging and talking to Grace, hurts. It took him years to try and ignore the ghost of her. She was the one force that would fuel his mornings and ease him to sleep at night. She was the one soul that he would always go to seek refuge. She was the one that he would lay his life on the line for without a second of doubt.

But he had to lose it all after one stupid night.

A night that he would never be able to grow out of, both from the horror and the guilt. Diego shut himself out for days following that terrifying night, locking his doors and skipping meals as he tries to think of all the what-if scenarios.

What if he stayed home that night?

What if he forced her to stay home that night?

What if he saved her before she saved him?

What if?

Mindlessly, he reaches for a knife on his left chest. It was a stranger to the rest of his knives collection. Compared to the polished lightweight knives he tucked in his suit, this one butter knife was rather dull. It would serve no harm to anyone, yet he kept it closest to his heart as if it was his most prized possession.

Diego stared at the knife. His brows knitted, examining the item as if it held the answer to all of his questions. Or perhaps some guidance. Anything to help him keep his sanity and not lose the plot now that she’s back in his life. Was she staying or was she leaving for the night? He wasn’t sure. But even if she is leaving, the hours he’d have to spend with her would suffocate nonetheless.

His thumb traces the engraving on the knife’s handle. A little trace of an infinite loop that had somehow become his stress outlet: the number eight.

[hihomeghere]

Wedding at the End of the World | Five Hargeeves \ F!Reader

Word Count : 3.3k Summary : A reader insert for the episode Wedding at the End of the World. You and Five reminisce on your wedding/proposal before going to Luther and Sloanes wedding. You both go to the wedding with high hopes of a good evening. ( I do not own the Umbrella Academy or any of their characters) Warnings/Tags : Cursing, fluff, alcohol, allusions to sex, mentions of death, use of y/n, Aged up!Five. Not requested.

“How was the bachelor party?” You asked as Five walked into your shared hotel room. He walked over to the bed.

“Wasn’t half bad.” He said with a smug smile. He sunk down onto the mattress untying his shoes. You set your book down on the side table, it wasn’t that interesting anyway. But after stopping the apocalypse twice in the last month you were due some down time. He crawled onto the bed and you accepted him with open arms. At this point in your marriage everything was muscle memory, the way you two always came together. His head rested on your chest, while his arms wrapped around your waist. He relaxed, his whole weight on top of you. Your hand stroked his hair, lightly scratching his scalp.

“You know, I don’t regret anything about our wedding day.” He said looking up at you, “but it was nice to have all my brothers together before Luther���s.” He smiled, kissing your wedding ring. A beautiful art deco style band.

“Five Hargreeves,” You said a smile creeping onto your face, “are you going soft on me?” You chuckled as he scoffed.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy spending time with my brothers?” He rolled his eyes, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Whatever you say, old man.” You kissed his head, closing your eyes.

-

“Where are we going?” You giggled as Five pulled you through the outskirts of a vineyard, circa 1972

“You’ll see.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You rolled your eyes following him blindly. He turned through a stone doorway, letting go of your hand. 

You followed him, walking down sandstone steps onto the lawn. The sun was setting, causing an orange glow to reflect on everything. Lavender bushes lined the lawn, Five stood in the middle, a picnic set out before you. You smiled, racing to meet him. He grinned as you threw yourself into his arms, he spun you lightly, your cream sundress flowing around you.

“What is all this?” You asked, your smile all but splitting your face. 

“Happy anniversary,” he said looking down at you through his lashes. You cocked your head to the side.

“You little,” you hit his shoulder softly, “I thought you forgot.” You shook your head.

“I could never.” He said, a hand resting over his heart. You shoved him, he exaggerated his movements, falling to the ground. You tackled him, straddling him between your legs. “The food is going to get cold.” He said in between your kisses.

“Is that really what you’re thinking about?” You laughed pulling your hair away from your face. You sat up, removing yourself from his lap. You kneel in front of the food display, two glasses with a bottle of champagne, a charcuterie board, and for dessert different fruit tarts. Five began to pour you a glass of champagne as you dug in. From the lawn you could see the sun set over the ocean. The bright turquoise waves crashing against each other. 

“You know,” Five started, you turned to look at him, the golden rays shining on him, “you are the best thing to ever happen to me.” He grinned at you, chuckling to himself. 

“Same here,” you grinned, laying your head on his shoulder, “I wish everyday could be like this.” You sighed contentedly watching the sun disappear into the horizon.

“I can’t promise that, but I can promise to love you everyday with no conditions, if you’ll have me.” He said kissing your head. He moved slightly, slipping his hand behind him to pull a box out of his pocket. 

“Five are you?” You asked sitting up.

“Will you marry me, Y/n?” He asked with a nervous smile on his face, you felt tears welling up in your eyes.

“Yes! Yes! Of course!” You laughed, throwing yourself into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you, laughing with you. He put the ring on your finger, tears slipping past his lashes. You cupped his face, kissing him sweetly. He deepened the kiss, his tongue running across your lower lip.

“You know, I reserved this villa for two more hours.” He whispered, pulling away from you, a lick of fire behind his eyes.

-

“This is officially worse than the apocalypse.” Five mumbles next to you. You hit him softly, grinning. 

“Oh hush.” You say turning back to Sloane and Luther. Sloane looked breathtaking, they both glided on the dance floor. Drawn to each other like magnets. Unable to be apart, always connected to each other in some way.

“Were we ever like that?” Five asked his nose wrinkling in disgust as his arm snuck around your waist, pulling you into his side.

“Who says we aren’t?” You laughed leaning into him, your head resting on his shoulder. He kissed your head, sighing as he watched his brother dance with his bride. 

There was no denying how deeply he felt for you. It was no use, he had tried to bottle up the love he felt for you for years! And yet here you were, nestled in his arms. He still couldn’t quite understand how you had fallen for him. You were heaven on earth, a cool drop of water in the apocalypse. You were nothing like him, pure, kind, empathetic, any man's dream girl.

And you had chosen him. A stubborn, egotistical old man who had (at first) brushed you off without a second glance.

You worked hard, breaking down his walls brick by brick. Like those bricks Five had fallen for you, and hard. His heart had long ago been branded yours with a hot iron. He was only so lucky that you had fallen for him just as hard as he had fallen for you. 

“C'mon Mr. Hargreeves,” you said, detaching yourself from his side, “dance with me.” You asked, reaching your hand out. He smiled softly, taking your hand in his. You could ask him to cut out his heart and give it to you on a silver platter and he would do it. 

“How could I resist Mrs. Hargreeves?” He asked his hand returning to its rightful place at your hip, his other hand holding yours. You both swayed gently to the music, your nose nestled into his neck breathing in his aftershave. You never thought your life would be like this, after all the torture and pain you had been through. You never thought you would have a normal life after that. Well, your life with Five wasn’t exactly normal. You were both stuck in your 20 year old bodies after a mishap time traveling, a couple apocalypses under your belts, and a crazy family to boot. 

But it was your life, he was yours, and you were his. You were happy, content, even if the world was going to end. As long as Five was by your side you could face anything, even the end of it all.

“Oh what am I going to do with you?” You chuckle looking into his green eyes. A smile split his face, creeping all the way to his eyes.

“Anything.” He replied simply before capturing your lips against his. You hummed softly, closing your eyes. The song slowly came to an end, and you both retired to your table. 

There, Five made it very clear that he had one goal for the night. He poured a concoction of alcohol into glasses for the both of you, trying to get you as drunk as he was. You were giddy, the booze making you tingly all over. Every time Five would catch your eye you would giggle and shy away from his gaze. He put his hand on your leg, his fingers slowly inching up your thigh. He was trying to find an excuse to get you both out of this reception and back up into your room. He knew in a blink he could get you back in bed, but how to do it without 1. Drawing suspicion and 2. Without having to hear about how rude it was for you both to leave and effectively killing the mood. Unfortunately for Five, his brother had to cock block him.

"Cinco!" Klaus exclaimed as the two looked over. "Mi hermano! And hermana-in-law.” He lowered his voice smiling at you.

"Oh, god," Five said, chewing loudly. "What do you want?" You giggled while sipping your champagne.

"Listen to me," Klaus said, sitting in front of you, "Dad is upstairs right now with a plan to save everything. So what say you and I pop up to the suite for a little chit chat?"

"Are you like Frick and Frack with the old man now?" Five asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at Klaus.

"Y/n help me out! This dad's different," Klaus defended him. "He's a turtle. Hard on the outside, but all cute and wrinkly and occasionally delicious on the inside." Five took a drink of his champagne 

"Klaus?" Five asked.

"Yeah?"

"Old dogs like me and him never change," Five told him. You rolled your eyes, lightly hitting his shoulder. "It’s true! He has never had our best interests at heart. So, my only plan for tonight is to get fucked up beyond all recognition."

"Sure. Have at it," Klaus said, getting up as Five placed a shot inside another drink.

"I shall!" Five exclaimed taking a shot.

“Y/n what do you think?” After not making any leeway with Five, Klaus turned to you.

“Klaus, can’t you just enjoy the party? No apocalypse talk for one night, please.” You smiled lazily, resting your hand on his velvet suit.

“You’re only getting away with this cause you’re cute, you know that right?” He groaned, rolling his eyes. Five recoiled, a disgusted expression on his face.

“Oh please, it’s not like I’m gonna jump your wife’s bones.” He smirked, “Although Y/n….” He trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Klaus, if you would so kindly walk away before I break your arm.” Five clenched his jaw, Klaus recoiled before walking away. “Why do you humor him?” Five asked as you turned to face him.

“Because he’s your brother, and for the most part he’s a good brother.” You said putting your hand on his shoulder looking into his eyes. He avoided your gaze. You smiled before leaning forward and placed a kiss on his cheek, over his two freckles.

“He better not sit here.” Diego said quite loudly drawing your attention away from Five, which he responded with a whine when your lips left his cheek. “I swear to god he better not sit here.”

“What is he doing here?” Ben added, “Who invited him?” Your eyes caught the elephant in the room. Reginald Hargreeves, your father in law. He gave a weird smile which just made the awkward tension in the room ten times worse. You looked back at Five, who gave you a knowing look before shrugging and taking another shot.

Lila and Diego made their way over him, Lilia apparently looking for an introduction.

“You won’t make me do that, right?” Five asked, taking your hand as you watched the somewhat pleasant interaction.

“Small talk with my in-laws is not on my apocalypse bucket list.” You reassured him, laughing. He smiled, “But if you wanted to go over and talk to him, I wouldn’t make you go alone.” He rolled his eyes staring at you.

“I’d rather lick a cheese grater.” You snickered before stealing one of his champagne flutes and downing it.

-

“What is he doing?” You asked as Reginald got up with a flute and a microphone, “oh my god is he going to give a speech?”

“Dear god, let’s hope the kugelblitz takes us before he starts.” Five mumbled before drinking another flute of champagne. You reached out blindly hitting him on his shoulder, you couldn’t look away from the anticipated train wreck in front of you.

“Sloane ever since you were a little girl, I’ve always known you were exceptionally bright. And although I can’t say I know Luther all that well, from the few moments we have shared, it seems you have found yourself an adequate partner.”

“He just called Luther adequate.” Five snickered a grin plastered on his face, you shushed him not wanting to miss any part of the speech. 

“I acknowledge that as a father I was not without my faults. I hope these shortcomings will be seen as only a rough patch on an otherwise verdant lawn.”

You took Five’s hand, giving him a smile. 

“You know for the most part this isn’t a bad speech.” You whispered, “Remember that wedding we went to in 1986?” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“How could I forget? We killed the groom's uncle after the reception.” He said meeting your eyes, a lick of fire in them.

“See! No one has died at this wedding!” You said the alcohol giving you a false sense of confidence.

“Yet.” He reminded you by holding up his flute for you, you raised your own clinking the two glasses. 

“I’m proud to call you my children. Even those whom I raised in a revenant version of myself.” Five leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. You rubbed his back lightly, gauging his reaction. “I hope that tonight we can create a few special memories, in whatever precious little time we have left.” You looked back over at Five, biting your lip slightly. You had a good run, but like Five you were so tired of running.

“So in closing, the sun rises over a lily field. A mother veiled her lips concealed.” Alison stormed off toward the elevator, “the mourners come in droves of black. To bury what their hearts unpack, with shallow breath and time eclipsed.” You looked over at Viktor who was pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed. A pain shot through you at his expression. “I pray you miss death's gentle kiss.” He raised his flute to Luther and Sloane.

You sat in silence for a minute, turning your attention back to Five. He had the same pained expression, you grabbed his hand squeezing it. He turned to you, offering you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Diego and Klaus started clapping, “Bravo! Bravo dad!” Klaus said.

“I didn’t think the old man had it in him.” Five whispered to you.

“Guess some old dogs can change.” You offered wrapping your hand around his bicep, pulling yourself closer to him.

“My wife, always the optimist.” He smirked, taking another sip of champagne.

“You love it.” You said resting your cheek on his shoulder.

“That I do.”

You watched as Lila, Diego and Klaus all made their way to the dance floor, Luther and Sloane joining them.

“Come on mister,” you said, pulling yourself to your feet. He rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance before taking your hand as you pulled him onto the dance floor. 

-

Slowly you all made your way out to the courtyard. Five draped his suit jacket over your shoulders as you led him to two chairs. He had definitely met his goal for the night. He was fucked up beyond all recognition. You sat next to him, pulling him back into your chest. His cheeks were rosy, a side effect of all the alcohol. His warm hand rested on your thigh, absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. While the bottle he had been nursing was clutched tightly against his chest. He rested his head on your shoulder as you looked up at your impending doom. Was it wrong to say it was beautiful? The swirling reds that danced in the dark sky. The orange string lights casted a glow on all of you, illuminating the otherwise dark courtyard. You pulled the bottle away from Five's lips, taking a drink for yourself. He let out a whine as you pulled it towards your lips.

“Hey guys.” Luther said as Sloane and him sat down. You waved to them as Luther leaned over to say something to Viktor. He put a hand on his back before Diego piped up.

“Oh no, no, no, no!” He said as Ben and Klaus walked over to where you were all seated. 

“Klaus, why are you bringing Ben here!” Five said with a slight crack in his voice gesturing at Ben.

“Hear me out!” Klaus said as a very drunk Ben leaned on him adding a little word here and there.

“The brother that you all knew as Ben is gone. And not- I don’t mean our Ben the nice Ben.” He clarified, “I mean this Ben.” He said pointing back to Ben as he put a bottle to his lips. “The asshole he’s gone now.” 

“Klaus what are you talking about?” Luther asked, looking around at all of you.

“And the man that stands in front of you is new, new Ben.” You watched as Klaus shook Ben, Five winced slightly looking at his two brothers. “And he’s one of us, and he’s a member of the team.” Klaus started chuckling, “and he’s part of the family!”

“Part of the family!” Ben yelled in unison

“And as a welcome gift I suggest we throw him off the roof.” Five smirked before you hit his chest. “What was that for?” He asked, dazed looking up at you.

“Five.” You deadpanned 

“Yeah I’ll help.” Diego said, looking at you two.

“Come on!” Klaus said both of them were hanging off each other.

“You know what, you know what.” Luther said pointing at the two men, “He can stay. He can stay.”

“Why?” Diego asked looking up at Luther

“Cause it’s my wedding day, man. Come on, he can stay.” You giggled as Ben and Klaus stumbled over to you all.

“How many times can he pull the ‘It’s my wedding card’” Five asked, rolling his eyes. 

“As many times as he wants babe” You said kissing his head.

“Barf,” Lilia said looking over at you two, “not you love, just the general idea of anyone finding that little turd attractive.” She said pointing at Five.

You shook your head trying to hide your smile. Five recoiled before looking back at you.

“Stop smiling!” He groaned, his brows furrowed, he looked like an angry toddler. At that you could help laughing, you held his face in your hands.

“Oh baby, don't be upset.” You kissed him before kissing all over his face, his cheeks, his forehead, his nose.

“Ooh woah, holy smokes.” Klaus said, looking up at your impending doom. Five reached for the bottle taking another swig.

“Hey you know something?” Luther said, breaking the silence, “tonight is all I ever really wanted.” A smile spread across your face as you looked at your brother in law.

“To get hitched?” Diego asked 

“Just… everybody coming together when it really matters.” He said, you grabbed Five's hand lightly squeezing it, “one big real family.” He kissed your hair, you all knew that Luther was the only one out of the siblings to have the guts to say what he felt. Suddenly Five moved off of you trying to get to his feet, clutching his stomach. He dry heaved as he almost fell onto his face, barely catching himself.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Everyone yelled leaning away from your stumbling husband.

“Oh I think I’m gonna hurl,” he muttered to himself. 

“Go get your man Y/n.” Diego said as you walked over to Five rubbing his back.

“Actually uh,” Five said, breaking away from your grasp, “I think I’m hungry, see ya guys I’m gonna hit the buffet.” He said stretching out his arms before gesturing inside. You sighed as he stumbled toward the building.

“Is he gonna be ok?” Viktor asked, pointing toward Five with his bottle.

You turned back to find all your siblings chuckling softly.

“I better go after him.” You said pointing behind you, “good night guys.” You waved before following Five inside.

“Night y/n.” Diego said, waving at you.

“We know who isn’t getting screwed tonight!” Klaus said loudly, you only flipped him off before heading inside. After your lovely drunk husband. You wouldn’t trade your family for the world.

[gudfornuthin]

All I’ve Ever Wanted pt2

Season 4!Five Hargreeves x fem!reader

Summary: after saving the world (again), the Hargreeves decide to have a proper celebration. Five should be happy, but there’s only one person on his mind, and he’s unsure if he’ll ever see her again. After being questioned by his loud mouth brother, there’s a chance he won’t have to wonder much longer.

Word count: 4k

A/N: the amount of support I received for part one of this was insane, and truly overwhelming. Thank you all for sharing the love and as requested I now have the idea for part two. Just like the last part, I’ve changed the story so no one ceases to exist and they all live happily ever after. This is also heavy on the Klaus and Lila content but I absolutely loved writing them and characterising them as I wish we had had more interaction between the pair. Hope you all enjoy, feedback is greatly appreciated :)

Read part one here!

“To saving the world. Again and again.”

“Hear! Hear!”

Glasses clink together as the Hargreeves family stand in a circle, celebrating their hero status. What had once felt like a long, gruelling journey, now at last was finished. The siblings weren’t sure if the world would need saving again someday, but at least for the time being, they could relax.

Diego and Luther were already wasted, Klaus and Alison were fussing over Claire, Victor and Ben were surprisingly having a heart to heart, Lila was hugging her children for what seemed like the 30th time that evening, and Five was sat in the corner moping. He wanted nothing more than to celebrate, to be in the moment with the people he loved the most. The only issue being, something was missing. Someone was missing.

When Five returned to his timeline, nobody held back their questioning. The only thing he could tell them was that it had been a long six years, and he was glad to see their faces. He couldn’t bring himself to mention her name. It would’ve just been too complicated. And he hated the thought of appearing soft and sweet. But that’s what she had done to him. And he knows he’ll never get that back.

“There’s my favourite sibling!” Klaus’ voice grates against Five’s ears, not in the mood to hold a conversation.

Five looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “Favourite?”

“Yeah,” Klaus nods. “Right after Alison, Viktor and Ben.”

Five rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his lukewarm drink and sinking deeper into his seat. Unfortunately, his brother like always doesn’t read the room, and decides to sit down, slinging an arm around his shoulder. Five quickly shrugs it off.

“What’s got you so glum, chum?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

If Five was going to open up to anyone, Klaus would have to be the last person on earth before he even considered telling him anything. He’d turn it into one big innuendo and completely ruin his already shitty mood. No, he’s planning on keeping his mouth shut.

Klaus props his elbow on the table, his chin in his hand and looking at Five with big puppy eyes. Five glares back.

“I’ve been told I’m great at giving advice. I help Claire bear all the time!”

“I don’t think I need the same advice as a teenage girl,” Five says, crossing his arms. “And hasn’t she been suspended from school?”

Klaus raises his hands in defence. “The advice doesn’t always go according to plan.”

Five shakes his head, any ounce of energy left in him draining away. He stands up, much to his brothers dismay.

“Great chatting to you as always Klaus, but I um, I think I’m gonna take a walk and clear my head.” He starts to slowly walk away. “Hopefully get hit by a car,” He mumbles under his breath.

Klaus watches him leave the room, pouting slightly. He knows his not the first person any of his siblings come to for help, and usually the last one to know anything that’s going on. Most of the time he can be gone for days and no one seems to notice. Even so, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. Seeing his brother this down pains him, and if he’s able to help in any way, he will. He also knows he can’t do this alone.

He glances around, the party still going strong and most of his siblings smashed out of their minds. One person who still appears spritely and aware of her surroundings, is Lila. She’s always down for a challenge, Klaus thinks to himself, stumbling out of his chair and making his way over to her. She spots him coming closer, shooing her kids away in case he’s too drunk to control his inappropriate thoughts.

“There’s my favourite sister in law!”

Lila looks at Klaus, squinting her eyes and choosing not to bite back a snide remark. “Having fun?”

He nods a little too enthusiastically. “Oh the best, just swell. Us Hargreeves sure know how to throw a shindig.”

Lila finally decides she’s had enough of the pleasantries. “Alright, what’s going on?”

Klaus takes her by the arm, pulling her further away from the rest of the family out of earshot. He also chooses to take it slow, giving himself more time to figure out what he’s going to say to Lila and how he’ll convince her to agree to whatever he comes up with.

“Has Five seemed,” Klaus pauses for a breath, “moody to you?”

Lila raises an eyebrow. “As apposed to his regular sunny disposition and positive attitude?”

“Okay, I know he’s not the most happy, go lucky guy.”

“He’s a twat.”

This isn’t how Klaus wanted the conversation to go, but he pushes on through, ignoring Lila’s harsh words.

“The only thing he’s opened up about is that he traveled through a weird subway system and was gone for what, to him, felt like a long time.”

Lila shrugs her shoulders, having already lost most of her interest in the conversation. “Why are you telling me all this?”

Klaus leans somehow closer to her, lowing his voice. “With your brains and my,” he falters slightly, “can do attitude, we could find out what happened to him when he disappeared!”

“And how is this going to benefit me?” Lila asks, her interest yet to be piqued.

“You get to possibly find something embarrassing to use against Five,” Klaus responds, “and you can take a break away from babysitting those two.”

As Klaus says this, he points over to Diego and Luther, the former smashing champagne bottles against the latter’s bare chest.

“See,” Luther exclaims with a smile on his face. “Can’t feel a thing.”

Lila groans, turning away from the man children. “Fine, I guess I have no issue snooping into Five’s private life.”

“There she is!” Klaus jumps up and down. “Now step one: infiltrate the boys personal quarters.”

Lila grimaces. “Please, don’t say that ever again.”

- - -

The pair move away from the party and head towards Five’s room. After the apocalypse fiasco, the family all agreed to spend the next week or so staying at the Umbrella Academy mansion while they figure out more permanent arrangements. The siblings stuck to their childhood rooms, with Lila’s family bunking in Reginald’s quarters. Not like the old man needed it anymore.

“What are we looking for exactly?” Lila asks, walking into Five’s room and looking around.

Klaus walks in after her, immediately heading for one of the drawers and haphazardly pulling it open. “I don’t know! Clues, notes, maybe he bought something back from wherever he disappeared to.”

Lila huffs, scuffing her shoes against the ratty carpet. She chooses to go along with the scavenger hunt, moving to the bed and poking her head underneath. A box catches her eye as she reaches for it, dragging it into the light. She sits cross legged on the ground and begins rummaging through it.

“So,” Klaus starts. “You watched any good shows recently?”

“I’m not doing small talk with you.”

The continue searching, finding nothing of significance other than some random calculations for something Lila can’t figure out, and Klaus doesn’t even try to understand what any of it means.

Just before the two decide to give their searching a rest, Klaus finds a sealed envelope under a pile of paper. He scatters the parchment across the desk and holds the envelope close to his face. A name is written on the front.

“Jackpot.”

Lila notices Klaus holding something of interest and walks over to him. “Who’s Y/N?”

“Hell if I know,” he replies, beginning to tear open the top of the envelope.

Lila quickly stops him, wide eyes piercing into the side of Klaus’s face. “Is your name Y/N? You can’t just open something not addressed to you.”

Klaus scoffs. “Come on! This could help us figure out what’s wrong with Five.”

He rips it open and pulls out the contents, much to Lila’s dismay. Two pieces of paper. One with random scribbles etched across it in messy writing. The other a blueprint of sorts, almost like a mapped out plan of a subway system.

“So,” Klaus starts after a beat of silence. “Any of this making sense to you?”

Lila doesn’t respond immediately, her eyes glancing back and forth over the blueprint and the words she can decipher on the paper. It looks familiar. She’s certain she’s seen something similar before, not just any ordinary subway plan. Suddenly it hits her.

“I’ve been here.”

Klaus gives her a blank look, forcing her to continue. “When we went on our little ‘road trip’ and got ambushed in that town. I blinked, hoping to get away from the gunfire for a moment and all of a sudden I was in what looked like an abandoned subway station.”

She pokes urgently at the blueprint. “This is that subway. Or a certain part of it.”

Klaus finally catches on, nodding slowly. “Okay, this doesn’t explain why it was sealed in an envelope addressed to some person we’ve never heard of before.”

Lila looks down at the paper again, moving her finger along the drawn on lines. They go so far, then stop, then start again on a different part of the blueprint. She slowly starts to make sense of it all.

“These parts here,” she shows Klaus where the lines stop and start. “It looks like he blinks across multiple stations.” She sees a big dot and a circle furiously drawn around it. “And maybe this is where he stops permanently.”

“You think that permanent stop might have something there of interest to us?”

Lila shrugs. “It definitely seems like it had some interest to Five. We may as well try.”

- - -

It’s a cold, autumn’s day, and Y/N stands in her greenhouse, clearing out some of the plants that had wilted away due to the change of climate. She’s wrapped in a warm cardigan, sniffling slightly as a chill runs up her spine. She didn’t mind the weather, but always preferred the warmer temperatures. It was the best time to grow her favourite fruits and vegetables. Either way, she’s hoping to grow pumpkins soon.

Since the events of the mysterious stranger landing in her back garden, and the whirlwind of emotions he put her through, she hadn’t left the comfort of her home other than to buy groceries. She busied herself with a lot of baking, crocheting, and practicing more of her combat skills. She hadn’t had to use them yet, but still she likes to remind herself of the moves she’d been taught. She filled her time well, but there was always something missing.

Y/N shakes her head, rubbing her nose against the back of her hand. She grabs a plastic bag and heads outside into the cool air, scooping up handfuls of leaves and shoving them into it. Maybe she’ll make some artwork out of them, the reds, greens and oranges complimenting each other well.

A tickle runs up her nose and she sneezes into her palm.

“Bless you.”

“Thank you,” Y/N replies, then freezes, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.

She turns to look in the direction the voice came from, coming face to face with a man with shaggy hair and a wide smile. Y/N yelps and, without much thought, punches him in the face. As he lets out a cry and stumbles back, she swipes his legs from under him, forcing him on the ground. She kneels on top of him, pulling his arms behind his back. ‘Guess the moves Five taught me came in handy’ she thought.

“I’m all for a bit of foreplay,” the stranger groans from under her. “But the punch felt unwarranted.”

“Who are you?” She interrogates.

“I must say,” a new voice sounds from behind the two on the wet grass. “If I knew you were this good at subduing Klaus, I would’ve come for you sooner.”

She whips around, spotting a woman standing not far away with her arms crossed and an amused expression donning her face.

Y/N looks back and forth between the two, confusion and adrenaline running through her body and mind. Was a quiet life too much to ask for these days?

Still on top of who she now assumes is “Klaus”, she glares at the woman. “Is it a trend now for people to show up in my back garden out of thin air?”

The woman smiles. “You must be Y/N.”

Hearing her name come from the stranger shocks her at first, but as the thought of Five runs through her mind, she has a strong feeling this has something to do with him.

“Sorry for scaring you,” the woman continues. “But I promise we’re only here with good intentions. Just here to help our brother.”

“I would also love to be apart of this conversation,” Klaus pipes up, still lying on the floor under Y/N’s weight.

She pauses for a second, then decides to trust the pair, standing up and holding a hand out to Klaus, the man happily accepting it.

“Alright,” she nods at them. “I’m listening.”

The three of them make their way into the home and sit in the kitchen. Lila takes the wheel, properly introducing herself and explaining the reasoning behind their unexpected visit. While the mention of Five doesn’t shock Y/N, her heart breaks hearing how miserable he’s been since leaving her and the life they’d built. She brews them all some coffee, listening intently to Lila’s explanation of their family and what’s gone on since Five returned. He’d obviously told Y/N about saving the world, but it was still hard to fully comprehend. She was used to a boring life, doing mundane tasks and basking in the quiet. His life sounded stressful and never ending. She begins to understand why he wanted to stay with her.

“And then we found an envelope in his room with your name on the front,” Lila finishes, taking a sip of her drink. “We thought finding you might be exactly what Five needs.”

Y/N eventually breaks her silence, trying to comprehend all the information thrown at her. “If he knew how to get back to me, why didn’t he?”

Klaus shrugs, grabbing for one of the home baked cookies on display in the centre of the table. “I don’t know, Five’s pride overshadows his emotions sometimes. Maybe he didn’t wanna seem desperate, or a burden. Maybe he was scared you’d moved on?”

She huffs at that. “No chance. The past few weeks my mind has been consumed by Five. I’ve tried my best to distract myself, but all I think about is him.”

Lila and Klaus look at each other, neither of them realising how much this woman must mean to Five. While this had initially been a way of teasing their brother and finding out something personal to use against him, it had now become much more serious. This woman was in love with him. And they don’t need to imagine that he’s in love with her too.

“Look,” Lila talks directly to Y/N. “We don’t expect you to give up your life here. I certainly wouldn’t with a home like this.”

Y/N smiles shyly, taking pride in her house and hearing the acknowledgment from someone else.

Lila continues. “But for the sake of helping two love sick puppies reunite with each other, we’d love to take you with us to see Five.”

At first, Y/N isn’t sure how to respond. The shock of meeting some of Five’s family, finding out how down he’s been since leaving her, and now getting the chance to see him again. She’s nervous as her stomach does flips. Even if it’s just one last time, she doesn’t want to spend a moment longer thinking it over.

“Okay,” she replies. “I’ll come with you.”

- - -

Five sits in the kitchen, a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter on the table in front of him. He’s looking straight ahead, grabbing a slice and slathering it with the nutty spread. He doesn’t care if he’s making a mess. He won’t be living here much longer anyways.

Footsteps sound from the hall, as an out of breath Klaus enters the room. He spots his brother and, straightening himself out, he casually walks over to the table. He nods at him even though Five has yet to acknowledge his presence.

Klaus sees the sprawled out food. “Hungry?”

“Not really,” Five responds, as he grabs a peanut butter covered slice of bread and throws it at the opposite wall. It sticks for a second then slides down.

Klaus watches as it slowly lands on the floor, then looks at his brother. “Well enough moping around, why don’t you come back up to the party?”

“I’m not in the mood to mingle.”

Klaus bounces slightly on the back of his heels. “You sure? I think there’s someone here who’d love to see you.”

“If the Handler’s somehow come back from the dead, tell her I’m not interested,” Five grabs a towel, wiping off the stickiness on his fingers. “She always gave me the creeps.”

“Oh I think it’s someone much better than the Handler,” Klaus replies before skipping away and out of the room.

Five waits for a few moments, letting out a giant huff and moving away from the table. He’s in no mood to socialise, but his brother’s weird behaviour has him curious. He leaves the kitchen, slowly making his way towards the sound of the ongoing celebrations.

“Come on just one more drink, I can beat you this time!” Luther’s voice is heard slurring from around the corner where Five walking.

“No way,” he can hear Diego pipe up. “She’s too good for someone who’s never played before.”

Five quickly catches on that they must be playing some dumb drinking game. Whoever they’ve challenged must be kicking their asses.

“I dunno, I’m just not as drunk as you guys.”

Five freezes, his heart picking up speed. That voice. The soft tone followed by a melodic laugh. It can’t be her. What the hell is she doing here? How the hell did she get here?

He absentmindedly runs a hand through his hair, hoping he doesn’t look as much of a mess as he feels. He turns the corner, the sight before him filling his insides with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Y/N is standing in between Luther and Diego, cups in front of them most likely full of alcohol. The three of them pick one up and chug as quickly as possible. They slam them down, Y/N much faster than both of them, and start flipping them. After only a few seconds, she flips her cup and lands it, earning a cheer from her and a groan from the two brothers.

Luther shakes his head incessantly. “Alright, again. Let’s go again.”

“Luther, you sound like you’re about to pass out,” Diego argues, his words slurring no less than his brothers.

Y/N laughs at the pair, admiring their competitive spirit. Her eyes glance away from them for a brief moment, and she spots Five. They both look at each other for what seems like an eternity, waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Hey Five!” Luther’s loud voice echoes throughout the room. “Your girlfriend’s awesome! Way cooler than you.”

Five shuts his eyes, groaning inwardly at his brother’s inability to sensor some of his thoughts. Y/N continues looking at him, a shy smile gracing her lips. She excuses herself from the drunk duo, trying not to appear too eager as she walks over to the love she thought she’d lost. Finally, she stands before him, trying to ignore the not so subtle looks from the partygoers.

“Hi.”

“What’re you-,” Five is breathless, spluttering over his words. “I mean, how? How’re you here, how’d you get here?”

“Uh,” from not too far away, Klaus pipes up. “I think you’ll find I am the one you can thank for that.”

Lila, standing next to him, smacks the back of his head, eliciting a small yelp from the man. “I was the one who figured the blueprint out you prick. She wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my ability to blink.”

They carry on bickering back and forth. All the while Five watches them, unsure if he should thank them or curse them out. Maybe both.

A soft touch takes hold of Five’s hand, pulling his attention away from his family and back to the woman in front of him. For the first time in a while, he smiles wide, matching her own.

“Do you wanna maybe go for a walk?” Y/N asks. “Your family seems lovely, but I’d really like some time just the two of us.”

Five breathes a sigh of relief. “Nothing would make me happier.”

- - -

The pair walk around the grounds of the mansion, holding hands and talking, as if nothing had changed. While Five knew he’d missed her company, he didn’t realise how her presence changed his mindset completely. He felt content, at peace. His thoughts weren’t consumed by the apocalypse and the world possibly ending again. How he’d spent the past several years moving from one place to the next, making sure his family was safe, and never having a second to stop. It was draining.

But with her? He can finally relax. He doesn’t feel the need to put on a facade and lie that he’s okay. She makes him feel seen, feel vulnerable in the best way possible. She’s not here to judge. She’s not here to ask for his help. She’s just here. And in that moment, that was the only thing Five cared about. It was the only thing he wanted.

They find a bench and decide to sit down for a bit, basking in the soft glow from the moon. Y/N rests her head on his shoulder and leans in close. Five can’t help but lay a small kiss on her hairline.

Y/N sighs. “I could stay like this forever.”

Five hums in agreement. “So could I.”

After saying those words, it dawns on Five what they truly mean. He could do this forever. Not just sitting on a wet bench in the moonlight, but spending the rest of his life with her. Living that quiet life they’d built together before he had to leave. He can’t bear to say goodbye again. So maybe this time, he doesn’t have to.

Five moves slightly, forcing Y/N to take her head off his shoulder and sit up properly. She looks at him confused.

“Why don’t we?” He asks.

“Why don’t we what?”

Five stands up. “Do this forever. You and I. Me and you. Live the life we both want. We both deserve.”

She stands up too, looking deeply into his eyes. “We talked about this last time. I can’t give up what I’ve made for myself. I can’t stay here.”

Five falters for a second, scared of what he’s about to propose. But there’s no point in living without taking a few risks.

“What if I come with you?”

Y/N is shaking her head before Five finishes the sentence. “I don’t want to be the reason you leave your family. I know now why they mean so much to you. I can’t live with that guilt.”

Five raises his hands to rest gently on the sides of her face. “And I can’t live without you.”

Tears threaten to spill from Y/N’s eyes, as he carries on talking. “I wouldn’t be saying goodbye to them forever. I know how to get back. Lila clearly knows how to get there too.”

Five rolls his eyes at that as Y/N laughs, her mind wandering to the shocking but wonderful introduction of his brother and sister-in-law.

“But if you still want me,” Five now speaks in a whispered tone. “I’m ready to finish building that life with you. However long it may take.”

Y/N nods, her heart beating fast. “I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

Y/N moves her arms up to wrap around his neck, pulling him close and kissing him deeply. They both sigh, Five tasting the alcohol she had been drinking earlier, as well as a hint of strawberries. Some things never change.

//

(Additional A/N: I’m not planning on doing any more parts following after this, HOWEVER, because I’ve loved writing Five and reader so much, I might do some one shots diving deeper into their time together before Five left. eg. Five teaching her fighting skills and reader teaching him how to bake. If you wanna see that please let me know and also if you have any suggestions for those kind of ideas I’d love to hear them.)

Taglist:

@indestructeible @reijixia13 @busy-buzzing @jshxng @krazyk99 @lxkeeeeee @inkspiredwriting @redbunny03 @philoslostfiles

(I tagged anyone who said they wanted pt2 but some tags didn’t work so apologies to anyone I couldn’t tag)