FinnLo Math
Hi, welcome to Lucky's hyper fixation at the current moment
For the past two weeks I have binge read Sweater Weather, Vaincre, and Coast to Coast by the lovely @lumosinlove and just want to say, Jesus Christ. I have actually fallen in love with O'Nutzy SO HARD and they are amazing and I'm absolutely a slave to Harvard Era FinLo. To @lumosinlove, this is a masterpiece and now I want to watch hockey, you've infected me.
Anyway, with credits out of the way, I did some math, (get ready for Harvard era FinLo math under cut)
*Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine and I did not create this story, so everything I say may be completely incorrect. Any of this may be disproven in Breakaway, which I don't/won't have the ability to read. Most of this is based off cannon times and events within the Sweater Weather universe, but I have made clear where cannon ends and my assumptions begin. Again, these are not my characters and all credit goes to @lumosinlove, This is not making fun of, patronizing, or degrading the all around fantastic story they have created, and is simply pointing out things I have noticed.*
Now in Coast to Coast, I noticed some strange things that Finn says. He tells Logan he's been in love with him for eight years, right? And over the course of the story Logan mentions he's loved Finn for 7 at some point (that may actually be in Vaincre, if it is the math lines up so that's a testy point). And when they kissed in part V of Coast to Coast it said it had been four years since they last kissed. This threw me off, because I knew this was, what, early January of 2020 in universe.
So I did some digging. Finn is a year older than Logan, meaning when Logan came to Harvard in 2014 (codified in Coast to Coast part VII, the very start, includes sexy Batman during Logan's first Halloween party at Harvard), he would have been a Freshman while Finn was a Sophomore.
Now it isn't clear whether their first kiss in 2015 was when at the end of the 2014-2015 school year or the start of the 2015-2016 school year (though Logan doesn't have a car, so that lends a little more credibility to Logan still being a Freshman, but it kinda seems like Logan never has a car in general, even in Sweater Weather and Vaincre). I tend to think it's the start of the 2015-16 school year because that's when Finn met Hanna, and those sorts of things don't really carry over after being apart for the summer. Anyway, this means it would be Finn's Junior year.
Now their last kiss before Finn leaves is supposedly in May of 2016, which was part II in Coast to Coast, but that doesn't make sense because it is stated that they are only one year apart,
[I'm pretty sure at least. Later in Coast to Coast it mentions Finn's rookie year and it's said that it was only one (1) really bad year without Logan (same goes for Logan as a senior) before Logan is drafted to the Lions after he graduates. This means they're only one year apart, so the 2016 thing I believe to be wrong]
and if you do the math with Logan being a Freshman in the 2014-2015 school year, he would be a Junior when Finn is a Senior in the 2016-2017 school year (I have a whole timeline trust me on this, it'll be at the bottom). So theoretically their last kiss would have been in May of 2017.
Now their next kiss in in January of 2020. Based off of the very beginning of Sweater Weather, the time period of the fic is the 2019 NHL season, so starting in September, it would be January of 2020 when Remus and Sirius' photos got leaked, right before All-stars, which Logan was going on. The same day the photos are leaked, Finn and Logan kiss for the first time since May of 2017.
If you tally it up, it would be 2 years and 7 months since they had last kissed: Seven months left in 2017, plus all of 2018 and 2019 {Essentially (7+12+12)/12}. Notably, not four years.
[If we are going on the timeline where the last kiss is in 2016, it would be 3 years and 7 months, which would be much more reasonable to say four years; however, that timeline is a little jacked so.]
The other thing that threw me off is Finn saying he'd been in love with Logan for eight years, which I also believe to be wrong.
Finn says to Logan when they are officially getting together in part V of Coast to Coast that he'd loved Logan for eight years, which doesn't make sense if they only just met in August of 2014.
To put it simply, they wouldn't have known each other for eight years. Again, if you tally it up, that's five months in 2014, five years, and then about half a month in 2020. {Essentially (5 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 1/2) / 12}. Let's just say they've known each other for 5 years and 6 months. Again, not eight years.
There is the concern of not loving each other when they first met, but Finn does say that he had loved Logan since the moment he saw him at the training camps in 2014, which would have been when they first met, so we can disregard any buffer time.
[And I am about 90% sure that August of 2014 was when they first met because during the Halloween party scene in part VII of Coast to Coast Logan talks about how Finn is his "new roommate" and they'd only just met. I could be wrong.]
And about Logan saying he'd loved Finn for seven years, I don't remember if it is in Coast to Coast which ends in 2020 or in Vaincre which goes until summer of 2021. If it is in Vaincre, this is a totally moot point because it's correct for about 7 years, but if it's in Coast to Coast (thinking on it now it may even be in Sweater Weather, either one would be off), then it wouldn't have been 7 years, but anywhere between 5-6 years. I would need to go back and find the part.
Other Interesting Math Things I figured out while Hyper fixating:
Alex O'Hara:
In Vaincre it says that Alex had to come from somewhere other than Harvard to see Finn in the hospital after he had gotten his first concussion, meaning he wasn't attending Harvard at the time. Vaincre also introduces a whole gang of people who were all on the Harvard team at the same time, which included Alex and Logan. So there had to be at least one year where they were on it together, and I assume it's probably Logan's freshman year.
When Finn's concussion happens is never explicitly stated, but I am assuming it's Finn's Junior year based on Finn and Logan's relationship at the time (pinning and extremely reserved while not awaiting Finn leaving (all this is coming from Logan talking about the concussion in Vaincre)).
With all this to say, I can assume Alex was a Senior in the 2014-2015 school year, left to join Florida's team in 2015-2016 and met Kasey down there in their rookie year. (Obviously they proceeded to fall in love as all good O'Hara's do: fall in love with their best friend.)
Leo Knut:
*open's mouth* *closes mouth* *opens mouth again* *looks down at the ground* Leo was in 8th grade when Finn and Logan met.
Leo was 18 at the start of Sweater Weather (2019) with a birthday somewhere in Nov-Dec, so theoretically he would have been a Senior in High School the year before. If you just tick back the years, that would put him in 8th grade during the 2014-2015 school year.
Not anything important I just stumbled across it and thought it was worth sharing, may as well make this post longer.
All in All List of Math:
Logan and Finn's last kiss before Finn left for Gryffindor would have been in May of 2017 not 2016
Their next kiss would be 2 years and 7 months later, not 4 years later
Finn and Logan have been in love since they met in August of 2014, meaning they've been in love for 5 years and 6 months, not eight years.
Alex O'Hara shared his Senior year at Harvard with Logan during Logan's Freshman year
Leo Knut was in 8th grade when Finn and Logan met
Timeline
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💌 poems for the month of love 💌
Having a Coke with You by Frank O’Hara
The Quiet World by Jeffrey McDaniel
Wait For Me by Konstantin Simonov (tr. by Mike Munford)
A Kiss on the Forehead by Marina Tsvetaeva
Love by Joseph Brodsky
Your Unripe Love by Paruyr Sevak (from “Anthology of Armenian poetry")
Love poem by Tishani Doshi
Maybe Under Some Other Sky by Willie Perdomo
Warming Her Pearls by Carol Ann Duffy
Ich finde dich (I find you) by Rainer Maria Rilke
Where does such tenderness come from? by Marina Tsvetaeva
I Loved You by Alexander Pushkin
Like a Small Café, That’s Love by Mahmoud Darwish (translated by Mohammad Shaheen)
Our Story by William Stafford
The Kiss by Sara Teasdale
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lilac - chapter 4
miguel o’hara x f!reader
summary: you accidentally overhear a conversation between miguel and his ai at work.
wc: 4.5k
warnings/tags: domestic lifestyle, mentions of violence, mentions of choking and death, swearing, mentions of office sex, strippers, sex workers, strip club, private dances, cuddling
author’s note: he’s so lana del rey coded guys
Anybody with experience knew that trying to keep twenty third graders together was like herding cats. Anybody with further experience knew that keeping twenty third graders together in a sharp, sleek, trillion-dollar facility like Alchemax was like herding cats who were soaking wet and high on all the catnip they could have stuffed their stupid little faces with in the span of five minutes.
“Alexander,” you snapped as you helped your coworker count little bodies as they piled off the bus. “If I have to tell you one more time to keep your hands off James, I’m going to drive this bus myself back to school and give you a fifty-page packet while everyone else here has fun.”
While your words had the effect you hoped they did, you wouldn’t exactly classify a field trip to Alchemax as fun. It was a megacorporation that dabbled in exploits from clean energy to genetics to god knew whatever else they did in there between those fancy metal walls. The building looked as though it should have come straight from a sci-fi film compared to the other foundations on the block, all floor-to-ceiling windows and fifty-some floors and armed guards that stood at the front doors. Certainly not a place to take a field trip with a bunch of nine year olds. Again, you would have thought some place like the zoo or even an interactive museum would have been better, but when the principal wanted something, she got it.
To be honest, you had a suspicion she was hooking up with one of the guards here, but you had nothing to prove your theory.
Like the pack of raging little animals that they were, your students filed across the front way of the building and up the stone stairs to the doors, where they waited in a mass of wiggles and excited spasms. Each of them held their partner’s hand, a rule you pressed with each field trip. Going into a freaky building like this, you almost wished you had a hand to hold yourself.
“That’s all of them,” said your coworkers, one of the three teachers who had come to chaperone the trip. She looked up from her clipboard of names, double checking each kid as you both followed the crowd of children up the steps. “Christ, this is going to be a shitshow. I just know we’re going to be escorted out of here after… I don’t know, a molecular leveler gets demolished by tiny, sticky hands.”
You snuffed out a little snort, reaching up to adjust the necklace perched about your collarbones. In your free hand, you carried a coffee cup that still had the tab in; it wasn’t for you. “I think it’ll be alright,” you said, but not nearly as confidently as you would have liked. “We had an entire assembly over this.”
“And since when has that ever helped?” She followed your movements, her eyes trailing over your form. You blinked at her. “Are you wearing lipstick?”
“Hah! No…!” Quickly, before she could ask any more questions, you turned away and pressed your lips to your sleeve, trying to wipe off some of the excess lipstick you’d applied right before leaving the school. Fuck, it was too much, wasn’t it?
Definitely too much for popping in to visit during a school field trip when you should have been watching your kids.
After passing through multiple tall, sleek-looking metal detectors (and scolding a few kids for bringing their phones when they were specifically told to leave them at school), you met the man who would be giving the tour of the facility in the lobby. Overhead, modern-art-classified light fixtures hung from the ceiling like someone had captured starlight and crammed it into bulbs. A cafeteria filled with scientists and researchers and everyone in between stood to your left, each of them donned in a stark white lab coat. Some of them spoke on phones, others clacked away on laptops and futuristic-looking tablets with such an intensity you would have thought they were taking a test for their lives. A few of them spared a glace or two at your group, but they didn’t last long. Apparently field trips to designated areas in the building were normal.
You heard the tour guide talking animatedly to the kids, but his words didn’t quite register as you kept your head on a swivel, searching out something specific. After a moment, when you leaned back on the heels of your feet, you found what you were looking for; the elevators.
“Hey,” you said to your coworker as the kids began to move deeper into the lobby, “will you cover for me? I’ve got to run to the restroom real quick.”
After they had moved along to where they couldn’t see you, you grasped the coffee cup tighter in your grasp and made a beeline for the elevators. Your footsteps against the polished marble seemed deafening as you quickened your pace, realizing the cup wasn’t as hot as it had been earlier. How fucking humiliating would it be if you brought him cold coffee? There was a part of you that knew, really, he wouldn’t mind, but the larger, more insecure bit insisted he would mentally cringe and throw it out the second you left.
Fuck, you thought. This man had you whipped.
You had just reached the elevators, reaching out to tap the call button, when a voice called out to you from your left. “Excuse me,” said a woman sitting behind a large metal desk you hadn’t seen in your haste. She eyed you from behind thick lenses, brow quirked over the top of her monitor. “We do ask that you stay with your group, if you’re here for a tour.”
“Oh! Uhm…” Gripping the cup tight enough that you felt the cardboard bend ever so slightly against your fingers, you padded closer to the desk and put on your best tight-lipped smile. “I’m sorry. I was just bringing a drink to someone who worked here. He’s, uhm… he’s -”
Before you could force your tongue to get out some kind of excuse, some kind of title, the woman was pulling out a small paper sheet from a drawer beside her leg. “Are you a significant other?” she asked, pulling a visitor sticker from the sheet and leaning forward to press it to your shirt. She didn’t seem to want to wait for an answer before sitting back down and clicking away at her screen. “Just a security question before you go; name and floor number?”
Goddamn; suddenly you were so fucking glad some people sucked at their jobs.
Taking a breath, you inhaled and plastered on a grin. “O’Hara,” you replied. “Floor seven.”
“Alright,” she said without looking up again. “You’re free to go up. Please stay in the public hallways.”
The entire elevator ride up to the third floor, you were unable to keep a goofy, surely stupid-looking smile from your face. You liked the idea of being called Miguel’s ‘significant other.’ It made your stomach clench, made your pulse race and your heart thunder and your core throb with a dull ache. For just a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine that kind of role, being deserving of such a title.
Coming home from your teaching job not to immediately race to do your makeup in loud, flashy colors, but to stay in the warm, basking glow of a house or a roomy apartment each evening. The keys would always fit just right in the lock, never click or jump. The air would be filled with the sound of a little girl’s quiet giggles from her bedroom, along with the smell of dinner cooking on the stove. Small soccer cleats by the door. Trinkets and photographs and everything else that made the house a home strewn about the rooms. And a tall, sinewy figure that towered over you there to greet you when you walked inside, all warm smiles and wide, calloused hands on your hips and full lips to press against yours with enough gentleness and passion and adoration to keep you on your toes the rest of the night.
A bed big enough for the both of you, with enough blankets and comforters that you wouldn’t be cold even if you couldn’t afford to keep the heat on. Sheets and pillows that knew your white-knuckled grip, that would mold to your hands as you laid out bare for him and allowed him to worship the very ground you walked on with his mouth, his fingers, what lay beneath his slim, narrow hips…
By the time the elevator reached the seventh floor and the doors opened with a gentle chime, your cheeks were hot and your palms were sweaty enough you were sure you’d heated the coffee back up to steaming.
Wandering through the halls of Alechmax’s third floor and feeling incredibly out of place amongst the scientists flipping through reports and chattering on calls, you shuffled from office to office, searching for that familiar name that made your stomach flip. It seemed an awkwardly insane amount of time before you finally spotted his name on a plate beside a door left slightly ajar. You approached and smoothed out your shirt, preparing to present the coffee, when you heard voices inside.
“This isn’t like you, boss,” a woman was saying, her voice slightly warped from speaking over a computer. “You’re always preaching to the others that messing with canon events and triggering changes that aren’t meant to happen is wrong. You know it’s wrong.”
From across the room, a voice you recognized as Miguel’s scoffed. “This one is different. I’m balancing out the changes. I’ve got it under control.”
“Some control you’ve got. You do realize you’ve already altered enough canon events that even this universe itself doesn’t know where it’s going anymore? The bad guys here aren’t supposed to be in jail. Things aren’t supposed to get better. You know why? Because here, there is no Spiderman.”
Spiderman? Your gut clenched slightly as you inched closer to the gap between the door and the frame. If they were talking about Spiderman, then surely - he must have come from here. Some of those conspiracy theorists were right.
“Like I said, Lyla,” Miguel replied, his voice a touch deeper than it had been just a moment ago, “I have it under control.”
The woman named Lyla went on despite the dangerous rumble in Miguel’s throat you’d never heard before. “Here’s another one. That friend of yours? She was supposed to be engaged by now to her boyfriend. Her actual boyfriend. They’re supposed to have the whole angsty proposal thing, go back and forth for another three months, then end things. When he ends her. Asphyxiation by choking for approximately seven minutes, by the way.”
For a long, long while, there was silence. You realized you had been holding your breath, trying desperately to connect these pieces that just refused to fit together. What on earth were they talking about? Universes? Spiderman? Someone getting choked to death by their fiance? It sounded like a bad movie plot.
“Lyla?” came Miguel’s voice.
“Yeah, boss?”
“...Shut down and mute all alerts.”
Again, there came that horrible, palpable silence. Lyla seemed to be in some kind of shock. “Boss, I’m not sure that’s really what you want. You’re in a state of denial. Maybe you should take a break there, come back to headquarters. Jessica’s tried reaching out. Peter and Ben, too. I advise spending time with friends to decrease levels of -”
“Shut down. Now. I’m not going to tell you again.”
“...Yes, boss.”
When you heard his footsteps crossing the room, you took a small step back and clutched the surely-lukewarm coffee to your stomach. You’d never heard him take such a tone before, always used to that warm, content baritone that rumbled comfortably from deep within his throat. This kind of voice you’d just heard was cold and emotionless, without an ounce of feeling in a single one of his words.
You took a breath and exhaled it softly.
Then, as if he heard it from inside his office, the door was opened at an alarming rate to reveal Miguel on the other side. His brow was furrowed and a line had appeared at the corner of his mouth with his frown, obviously expecting one of his coworkers to be intruding at his door. Yet when his gaze met yours, when his frame towered over your smaller one, he realized just who you were, recognized that gleam in your eyes when you locked stares. His gaze softened like an airbag deflating. That line by his mouth disappeared. His tensed figure slowly relaxed, his shoulders coming down from where they’d been set.
For a short moment, you simply stared at one another. You were forced to admit to yourself that tone he’d spoken with had intimidated you.
It reminded you of the one Ferris used when he cornered you and threatened to take off for good.
Finally, Miguel’s lips parted. “Hey,” he breathed out, like he was trying his damn fucking best not to let that tone leak through to you.
You swallowed and slowly allowed yourself to relax. He wouldn’t ever speak to you like that. You didn’t know how you knew. You could just sense it in the warmth that poured from him, from the gentle honey of his dark eyes, from the way he held himself and carried his weight and set down each step like he knew the outcome of each and every movement he made. “Hi.”
Miguel inhaled, as if he were relieved you decided to speak. “Sorry about that,” he said and gestured over his shoulder into his office. “We’ve been testing out some new AI lately. Throwing it curveballs to see if it can keep up.” A small smile graced his face, close-lipped and sweet. Again, you realized - he never smiled with his teeth. “It hasn’t been going well.”
Like a dam breaking and letting a flood of water into a canal, relief rocketed through your systems and worked to ease your stress. Of course he had been talking to a computer. You doubted he could ever speak to a woman like that, much less anyone else. And that also explained all the wild things they had been discussing. Universes? Some poor chick getting murdered by her fiance?
Just the complicated workings of an out of sorts AI.
“I have to admit, I was wondering,” you let yourself laugh. “But, you know… who am I to question Alchemax’s best geneticist?” You watched in fascination as the corner of his mouth quirked upward and one eye squinted with the smile. God, you could watch him do that all damn day. Suddenly remembering the coffee in your hands, you held it up to him with an embarrassed grin. “I meant to bring you this while it was still hot, but I guess you know how hellish it can be getting a bunch of third graders on a bus.”
He took the cup with a rather confused expression.
“The field trip,” you said and folded your hands in front of you, because you knew if you didn’t, you would surely reach out and touch his face. “It’s today. You signed the permission slip about a month ago.”
Miguel blinked a few times, then took a breath and lifted his face. “Right. Right, sorry. Must have slipped my mind. I’ve - heh.” He shook his head and reached up to scratch at the delicate skin of his throat in that way he did when he spoke to you. “More going on than you would know.”
“Believe me,” you said softly, looking down at your shoes. You thought of dishes still in the sink, and band practices in your living room, and threats of leaving you all on your own because, really, that was truly your worst fear. “I know.”
You thought from there you would smile and turn, say something like, ‘Well, just thought I’d stop by,’ and leave him in the doorway of his office so that he wouldn’t see the yearning swimming in your irises. Maybe if you were feeling bold, you’d reach out and touch his wrist for just a moment before pulling away and practically sprinting back to the elevators.
But when you went to turn, he beat you to all of that. He reached out to touch your upper arm, the tips of his calloused fingers brushing along the fabric of your shirt, and he asked if you’d like to come inside, sit down for a minute. And inside his office, he told you what his department was working on, explained it in ways he knew you would understand. He spoke of a molecular collider that, in theory, would open a doorway to parallel universes.
You could have spent hours sitting in that office that smelled like his cologne, listening to him talk.
But life moved on. You were forced to pull yourself away, travel back downstairs and hold Gabriella’s hand like you hadn’t just thought about Miguel folding you over his desk, hushing your desperate cries, and gripping onto your hips with a hold that would bruise. You were forced to drive home and argue with Ferris about dirty laundry and his new keyboard girl constantly texting him. You were forced to land in the dressing room at The Menagerie, carefully dotting rhinestones to your collarbones in the mirror while the other girls buzzed around you.
“And he brought you flowers, too?” asked Shawna from where she was spread out on the couch across the room. She sighed deeply and hung her head over the armrest. “Girl. When are you going to stop playing and give that little girl of his a new mom?”
“You know why I can’t,” you replied as you pressed a small plastic rhinestone to your skin.
Zara met your eyes in the mirror as she grabbed the back of your chair, already dressed in her colorful, skimpy outfit and her mask. “We know why,” she hissed, but not at you. “That Ferris dude has got you held under the water, babe. Serious ball and chain kind of deal here. You really need to do something.”
If you could have found the strength to, you would have rolled your eyes at their words. But you really couldn’t. You were nothing short of exhausted after the field trip today, so much that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were unable to keep your eyes open while you were on stage. God, you loved your teaching gig, but sometimes it was so, so stressful. And so was this job. Teaching, dancing, disciplining, teasing. They all collided into one big, neverending hurricane of fatigue.
“Maybe in another universe,” you found yourself mumbling under your breath, remembering everything Miguel had told you about this morning, “I could have been a flower shop keeper.”
Behind you in the mirror, a few of the girls looked at you with strange expressions.
Before you could go back to applying your rhinestones, one of the newer girls entered the room and pushed her mask up so that her face was visible. She looked to you. “Boss said you’re canceled on the stage,” she said, and you hoped for a moment you were going to go home early, before she added, “Guy paid for a private dance in Room 7.”
“Goddammit.” You groaned and leaned forward to rest your forehead on your arms. You were way too fucking tired to do a private dance right now.
“M’sure he won’t be that bad,” said Shawna as she let herself slip further over the arm of the couch.
Grumbling beneath your breath, you stood, finished off your rhinestones the best you could, and slipped your cold porcelain mask over your features. At least like this, your customer wouldn’t be able to see your exhausted eyes and lost expression.
The beating, thrumming music of the club seemed to vibrate your very soul in your chest as you wound your way past patrons and around the stage, sure to throw half-assed smiles at the people you were forced to wiggle past just a bit too close. The short corridor leading to the private rooms were lit with neons, playing with shadows across your costumed form as you found Room 7 and gently knocked on the door. You blinked a few times to clear the blur from your eyes, then cleared your throat and stepped inside.
“Hi, handsome,” you said as you turned to shut the door - your classic line, no matter who the buyer. “How are you doing tonight?” You turned around to face your customer, then came to a complete stop. Even your heart jumped a beat or two.
The man you’d seen in the shadows that night of the robbery, the man with the little scar on his collarbone, had gotten to his feet from his chair when you entered the room. He wore that same spider mask, still had his dark hair slicked back over his head.
You swallowed thick as you felt his eyes traveling over your form behind the gaps in his mask. “Hello… Spiderman.”
He hesitated for a moment, like he was lost on just what to do. “Hey,” he said in an equally soft voice. It was muted in the same way it was behind his spandex mask.
You placed your hands behind your back as you leaned up against the door - and locked it. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“...You asked.”
“Did I?” Putting on your best flirty, coy smile, you slowly crossed the room to meet him. “I thought all I said was… if you stopped by, to ask for me.” You reached out to touch the edge of his shirt, past his dress jacket, and skim your knuckle over the tan skin of his exposed collarbone. That scar sat just where you’d seen it before. “But you’re here.”
“...I’m here.”
There was a soft lilt to his voice, one that you had not heard before. Then again, you hadn’t spoken to him much, just in the bank and on the rooftop. But it seemed long enough to know that it wasn’t normal.
“What’s wrong, Spiderman?” you asked gently, taking a step closer. Your knees brushed against his, and when you gave him a gentle push on the shoulder, he sat back in the chair positioned in the center of the room. You gingerly climbed up so that your knees rested on either side of his thighs, so that your center was just inches above his. You didn’t miss the slight hitch in his breath, the way his eyes widened ever just so behind that spider mask. “Have a bad day? Some criminals get the better of you?”
You knew, in a way, that he wasn’t going to do it himself, so you took his wide, warm hands in your own and rested them on your hips. They stayed there for a long, long moment. Then they moved not down, toward your ass and your core, but up. They felt tentatively along your middle, his thumb tickling your stomach just a bit, and stopped just below your breasts before sliding back down again.
“No,” he replied in a low, raspy voice. He paused when you slowly lowered yourself so that you were seated on his lap now, your hips pressed against his. You felt his thigh twitch beneath your ass. “Pretty good day, actually. Just… heard some bad news.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You hummed, letting your fingers drag along the delicate skin of his throat, just barely shaded with stubble. “What can I do to make you feel better?”
You expected him to hesitate, then make a request. Strip for him. Dance. Whisper in his ear all the things you wanted to do to him.
But there came none of that. Instead of touching you like you were used to, his hands - which were still respectfully resting against your middle - slowly slid across to your back and gently, gingerly, pulled you against him so that you were lying against his front. So that your chests were pressed together. So that you were slumped comfortably in his lap. He held you there against him, one hand on the small of your back and the other on the base of your neck.
“Just this,” he murmured.
You were stunned, to say the least. This was not the first time a customer just wanted to hold, or be held, or anything of the sort. But even then, those touches were desperate and needy, clingy and awkward. But this was everything they were not. This was gentle and considerate, kind and… romantic. Like he didn’t just need to be touched, he needed to be touched by you.
When you inhaled you thought you recognized the scent you breathed in. But with his body so close and his hands holding you so securely, you dismissed it like a runaway thought.
“Here.” Spiderman pulled you back for just a second, raising his fingers up to pull at the ribbon keeping your mask on your face, mindful not to catch any hair. Your breath hitched when he set the monarch mask aside, your face now bare as you stared down at him. This was against the rules. You were not supposed to do this. Customers were not supposed to see your face, know you like this.
But this?
This was far beyond any rules.
Your lips parted and your heart thundering in your chest so loud you were sure he could hear it, you found your own fingers slowly reaching up to graze at his porcelain mask. Your fingertips grazed the edge, began to hitch it up…
He caught your wrist in a hold that was so gentle, yet so commanding, that you immediately let your hand drop. But there was no venomous feeling there, no edge. Just a warning. A soft, quiet warning.
Exhaling, you wrapped your arms around his neck and settled yourself against his wide, powerful frame. Your face nestled itself into the crook of his neck, your chin resting atop his shoulder, as his hands came back to hold your form against his. One of his thumbs glided across your shoulder blade, sending goosebumps rising across your skin.
Gripping onto his jacket collar, you opened your eyes to look at yourself in the mirror that faced the back of the chair. Here you couldn’t see the mask over Spiderman’s face, just his slicked-back hair and his broad shoulders keeping you caged against him. His head tilted toward yours, your temples resting together.
For a moment, in your exhaustion and fatigue, you thought he resembled someone else you knew. But you let the thought pass, instead shutting your eyes and basking in his soft, gentle, perfect touch.
tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick @natthernandez @bakgoktski @soupsexsunsalutationsss @roxannarichie @lovagirlxxx @soggyeyeballsss @yoyoyoyoyo55555 @sophipet @quaintii @lavnderluv @cookiezxx @euphorica @its-a-polyglot @nicalysm @maxi-ride @exzidss @crappwr0m @femme-is-dead @bitch-onthemoon @hier—soir @takayomi @kirke-is-my-name @d1lf-loverrr @might-be-a-rat @brooks-lin @maki-z @bookfreakk @act1839 @dollscircus @sleepingaway @anxietybutterfly @bioticboot @mxkn @freeingrebels @digitalcreature404 @aimee777 @hunnaye @blahbahed @cyanide-mustard @impettywhenyouare @mental-illness-is-my-friend @bobfood
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i just had this shower thought but i just know that muñeca will be everyone’s fav wag when frat!mig makes it into the nfl😩 like i imagine her being an ABSOLUTE icon (it girl energyyy) having edits of her LIKE UGHHH ! what would be migs thoughts about this??
miguel bagged the baddest bitch of all time, everyone knows this!!!
she’s definitely the it girl without even trying!! if anything, she tries to step away from the spotlight as much as possible! one of the things that made her famous aside being nfl!miguel’s girl is that her fits goes HAAARDDD. she could dress up or dress down. classy or casual. glamorous or laid back. anything!
i would like to think that one of her moments that went viral was when she attended his first game. when the other WAGs were dressing up for the occasion, she was there in his old college jersey and her jeans. hoops dangling in her ears with one leg up in the chair, just sipping on her cocktail in a plastic cup. she didn’t realize the camera was on her because she was far too fixated on the game.
it was a simple moment but that didn’t stop the whole world to be in love with miguel o’hara’s girlfriend! not only is she drop dead gorgeous but funny too!
“your boyfriend, miguel o’hara did amazing out there! he scored a touchdown! how do you feel about that?”
“man tbh, I didn’t really see it. just came here for the food and drinks. but good for him though”
the whole interview was funny af. some audience loves her sense of humor while others don’t. but she doesn’t gives a shit. she knows its all jokesy jokes. she’s proud of miguel’s achievements. she knew all of the hard work he’s put in to be here. and she did cheer really loud when he TDed,
her popularity only seem to be increasing when another baddest bitch in the game, Rihanna reached out to her personally and they become friends! muñeca was fangirling obviously, but she’s not going to let badgalriri knows otherwise she’d be embarrassed. especially not the really hot dream she had with Riri back in college,
miguel notices the amount of attention his girl is getting and he feels this sort of pride in him knowing that she really stole everyone’s hearts by absolutely doing nothing major. just like she did to his back in junior year. he knows his girlfriend is a heartstopper. everyone’s crush. obviously. he doesn’t forget the time where he had to compete with other guys lining up to be her man on campus.
muñeca is not just a pretty face but her heart is pure. I think that’s one of the reasons why people are loving her. you’ll hear from other people talking from miguel’s team, the fans, reporters, close friends, employees etc that she’s nothing but a sweetheart. not one bad thing to say about her🥺🥺
and the tiktok edits?? MAAANN, her edits are beating his by mileeesss!! he gets jealous here and there though. not because his edits are decreasing but mainly because everyone is falling for his girl and giving her so much attention that he just wants her all to himself,
he’s proud of her. not because of the trophy wife thing people are making it out to be but she’s just as successful as him! she has her own ballet studio, have her own classes to teach, friends with rihanna, bella hadid, getting offers from vogue, calvin klein, and shared partnerships with a few of famous designers. the late karl lagerfeld, alexander mcqueen, swarovski, donatella versace to name a few,
to everyone, she is indeed an icon. timeless being. but miguel had already seen that one coming before all of this happened🤍
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𝑪𝑯. 𝑰𝑰 — 𝑭𝑨𝑪𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮.
𝐂𝐇. 𝐈𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑.
[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽]
[ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ]
AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST
summary 🕷️
⤏ miguel struggles to come to terms with your brief encounter.
pairing 🕷️ miguel o’hara/spider!reader
word count 🕷️ 3.5k
a/n 🕷️
⤏ I don’t know that the collective’s HQ is actually an old Alchemax facility, but it made sense to me since the go-home machine is similar to the collider. I haven’t been able to find much information on the wiki about 2099’s world, much less spiderverse miguel’s version, so I’m gonna sprinkle in my own headcanons as we go along until I learn anything different. if any of you happen to know any details (like currency, layout of Nueva York, little things like that) please let me know! I’d prefer this fic not to have glaring discrepancies to the source material if at all possible. :)
🕷️ MASTERPOST 🕷️
🕷️ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⤎ 🕷️ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER 🕷️
“I told you that you weren’t up for that. I could’ve handled it just fine.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
He could feel Jessica’s eyes trained firmly on his back, though he did his damnedest to ignore the persistent prickling along the back of his neck. O’Hirn was struggling again, given most of the toxin had already worn off, and it was all the restraint Miguel could muster not to just toss him over the boardwalk into the yawning depths of HQ and be done with it.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?”
“I’ve got it,” Miguel responded brusquely, clenching his jaw.
“Just because I’m pregnant,” she started, “doesn’t mean I can’t—”
“I don’t need you getting yourself hurt,” he interrupted.
“I’m only two months in,” she sighed. “I hate to think about what you’ll be like later on. Even my husband isn’t as worried as you are, Miguel.”
“You’re exposed to enough danger as it is,” he growled. “I had it covered.”
“If you nearly drowning is your definition of ‘had it covered’, then I worry about what it means for you not to have it covered.”
Finally, they made it to the containment center, and Miguel dropped the mercenary face-first into the cage, muttering under his breath all the while. The field turned on with a hum, and Miguel released a terse exhale of relief as he stepped back for it all to be finally over.
“Hiya, boss! How’d it go?”
Almost over, anyway.
“Fine.” He turned and started to walk towards his office. “Jess, remember to fill out a report. LYLA, catalog Alexander O’Hirn into the queue for departure.”
Her lax footsteps were declaration enough of her intention to do anything but that.
“You could have at least explained the basics, you know. Since she’s from an adjacent 2099, she’d understand the multiverse theory. The Alchemax in that reality is performing similar experimentations for dimensional travel, and she’d evidently run into their projects before.”
“What part of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ do you not understand?”
“The part where it excuses you for being an ass.”
He stopped and turned on his heel, lenses narrowing as he glared resolutely down at his companion. “It’s classified to anyone not enrolled in the collective.”
“Ooh, touchy,” LYLA commented, appearing over Jessica’s shoulder like the demonic conductor she was. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” Miguel ground out.
“Something happened. Your vitals are all over the place, boss.”
“I told you not to monitor me.”
“Does it have to do with the fact that she’s—”
“Don’t,” Miguel bit out.
LYLA raised her palms placatingly, twisting and regarding him wryly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“She’s not the same,” Jessica reminded him needlessly.
“Of course she isn’t,” he growled. “Why do you think—”
She raised a manicured brow at him, effectively shutting him up. He opted to glower instead. “And because she isn’t the same, you owed her a civil response—especially since the big lug back there almost popped her head off like a cork. She obviously knows your counterpart because she recognized you. I know you’re going through a lot right now, but it didn’t give you a reason to dismiss her like that. It’s not her fault that any of this is happening, and we always need new recruits.”
Miguel bristled. “I’m not recruiting her.”
“And why not?” Jessica propped her fists on her wide hips.
His lenses narrowed further. “You know why.”
“Yeah, I do.” She shook her head. “Because you’re letting your personal bias interfere with the job.”
Miguel scoffed and turned away from her once more. “All this is on a need-to-know basis, Jess. We’re not so sore in need of help that I have to pull every conceivable Spider-Person in the multiverse into the coalition.”
“Don’t you think she needs to know why her dead husband randomly walked out of a portal and acted like she didn’t exist?” LYLA remarked.
Jessica fell silent, obviously in shock, and Miguel dropped his head to pinch the bridge of his nose. “LYLA.”
“I ran preliminaries while you were gone,” she continued lightly. Miguel twisted just enough to watch her use multiple holograms to display your credentials and history as she listed off your name and date of birth. “...Spider-Woman of 928C for five years. Widowed by one Miguel O’Hara of eight years in a classified, freak accident at his laboratory in Alchemax. Refused answers regarding the nature of his death, she snuck in to investigate herself. She was then bitten by a genetically and radioactively modified Goldenrod Crab spider he had assisted in mutating, which imbued her with the classic spider powers, plus…” She squinted at the words streaming across the screen. “...boosted olfactory senses, organic webbing excreting a sedative pheromone, and pigment-shifting abilities that are largely ineffective as camouflage but make for easy changes in hair color and skin tone—oh, look, she gives herself temporary tattoos with it! Neat! She then proceeded to steal the experimental suit of UMF in the same lab and has since been doing her best to stop Alchemax’s schemes and protect Nueva York’s civilians. Heh, the suit colors kind of make her look like a strawberry pie.” She glanced up at Miguel appraisingly. “Did I miss anything?”
“No,” he said tightly. “That about covers it.”
“You said you didn’t know much about the canon events of that universe,” Jessica scolded.
“I knew the basics,” he snapped, “which is why I wanted to avoid confronting her. I wasn’t going out of my way to learn the rest!” He cut a glare towards LYLA, who shrank back slightly. “But thank you for the input.”
“Just trying to help,” she replied lamely.
“Don’t bark at her,” Jess interrupted. “You could have briefed me on it. I could’ve gone by myself if you didn’t want to risk exposure.” She tilted her head slightly. “And if you didn’t want to face her.”
The UMF dissipated from his head so quickly that both woman and AI jumped. The midday sunlight pouring in through the windows on the far wall stung his eyes, but he didn’t care. “I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”
Jess regarded him coolly for a long moment, and Miguel spun to march himself into the blissfully quiet and empty haven of his own lab.
“You owe her an apology,” the woman called.
Gritting his teeth, he stopped long enough to throw his reply over his shoulder. “And why is that?”
“If you’re in this bad of a state seeing her now,” Jess said, “how do you think she feels having grieved you for five years?”
Miguel’s talons pierced into the meat of his palms as he stayed silent and stalked away.
The lab was blissfully quiet, save the hum and chirrup of the numerous machines and monitors working away in solitude. It was raining outside, drumming against the roof and narrow windows near the ceiling to allow in faint shafts of bleak, tepid gray light. The occasional muffled rumble of thunder made him wince, even as the dark room allowed his eyes to finally relax. Still, it would take a while for his head to stop throbbing.
He had been too harsh on Jessica—LYLA, too—he knew that. He didn’t have an excuse. But the migraine he’d woken up with that morning combined with the fact that any Rhino, no matter what universe they originated from, were royal pains in the ass. Almost drowning and scarcely avoiding impalement had not done anything to improve his mood, either.
Miguel let out a harsh sigh as he sank heavily onto the platform resting at floor level, propping his elbows on his knees and dropping his head into his hands. His fingertips dug into his eyes and temples in a feeble attempt to assuage the aching pressure but to no avail. He needed to sleep, seeing as he’d gleaned none the night before after having determined a mission to the dimension directly neighboring his was necessary ASAP—the anomaly might not have fully transitioned until a couple of hours ago, but LYLA’s predictions had been correct and he knew they’d needed to act fast.
Even still, it had almost been too late.
He was always too late.
He gritted his teeth with a growl, shaking his head and straightening to glare up into the shadowy rafters. The patches of amber holograms flickered like candlelight, dancing with images and footage and readouts he couldn’t be bothered to check at the moment—his vision was blurring and if he tried to squint any more today he worried his eyes might pop out of his skull altogether.
“No new anomalies, jefe.”
“LYLA.” He dropped his gaze to the glowing figure floating at eye level. She had her arms folded over her chest, glasses pushed all the way up her nose to hide her eyes.
She rubbed her nose briefly. “Yeah, that’s the designation. Don’t wear it out.” She summoned a graph and pointed to it. “The spike is fading in 928C. Everything should be back to normal by tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” He swallowed, dipping his head to scratch the nape of his neck. “Hey, mira, I’m…sorry, about earlier.”
At her lack of response, he raised his eyes again and found that she had blinked away just as fast as she’d appeared.
Miguel released another sigh, cursing under his breath. He’d done enough damage for the day, he figured.
It didn’t take long to get to his quarters. The uppermost floor of the compound was glassed in on all sides, and bigger than Miguel would ever have wanted—but the construction of HQ had been primarily handled by LYLA seeing as he’d been busy hunting anomalies and recruiting other Spider-People to the collective, and with the haste to get everything up and running he hadn’t really stopped to consider anything besides the necessities. The old Alchemax facility suited perfectly to his needs, and having more money than he knew what to do with from his old position in the upper echelons of the blasted corporation, he’d let her have the reins so he could have more time to work.
To be fair, the living space was…nice. Just big, with amenities and furniture that felt a little too modern. (It made it feel all the more empty.)
Miguel shed the UMF suit and chunked it in the nano-regenerator, wincing as he tweaked the bruises around his ribs. Grappling with a man twice your size in a heavy suit of impenetrable armor while underwater was decidedly not his definition of a good Friday night.
He traipsed into the bathroom, tapping the screen to activate the shower and adjust its jet settings and temperature. He’d be healed by tomorrow, he knew, but the soreness would linger for a couple of days. He’d just have to try not to twist too much.
Miguel stopped to scrutinize himself in the mirror, not for the first time (and definitely not for the last).
The warm white light spilling from the mirror’s rim highlighted his silhouette and the numerous scars littering his frame, the edges of his reflection growing hazy from the steam billowing out over the top of the shower’s tall glass walls. He scarcely recognized himself from the man he’d been six months prior. Working so hard combined with constantly improving his strength for better mobility and endurance in the field had changed his figure so vastly from the lean muscle upon which he’d previously relied while managing Nueva York by himself. It felt surreal, sometimes—but if he could distance himself from the man he’d used to be in any way, he’d take it. Miguel no longer wanted to make mistakes like he did. (It might actually kill him, this time, if he did.)
Miguel shook his head with a low growl, reaching up to tug the loose locks of hair off his forehead—and, in so doing, reminded himself of the band still snugly hugging his ring finger. He regarded it for a long, tense moment as he ground his teeth until his temples throbbed. He fought down tooth and nail the tide of fluctuating emotions that the ring brought—when he wore the suit, he barely noticed it. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that.
Miguel swallowed roughly and pulled it free, dropping it into the little ceramic dish next to his sink before trudging into the shower to scrub away his woes.
He did feel marginally better afterward, which was a small boon. Dressing in his favorite pair of worn sweats helped, too. He wasn’t hungry, but if he wanted to dissuade the headache with the abnormal amount of aspirin it took to even put a dent in his hyperactive metabolism, he’d have to eat something—so he fixed himself a club and choked it down with water.
By the time he’d settled into bed, flat on his back and gazing blankly up at the dark ceiling with an arm thrown over his forehead to shade his eyes from the city lights glowing along the skyline, his nerves had settled for the most part. He’d apologize to the ladies tomorrow. Maybe, as tired as he was, he’d actually be able to get more than three hours of sleep for once. (Doubtful.)
Miguel sighed heavily, shutting his eyes. He didn’t want to think about it. If he thought about it he’d get upset all over again. It had taken every iota of willpower he possessed just to get through the whole damn mission to begin with. One would think, after the couple of months that he’d had to get over the entire ordeal (his mistake—his greatest mistake—one he would never be able to reverse or rectify no matter how much he regretted it), that he’d have a better handle on his emotions. He’d fucked up catastrophically. Now he was forced to pick up the pieces by holding the multiverse together with nothing but his bare hands and his sheer force of will. He could never afford to allow his selfishness to influence the fate of the multiverse.
Miguel sucked in a deep breath, but the stretch twinged his ribs again. He turned over onto his side with a terse sigh, grabbing the pillow on the opposite end of the bed and stuffing it under himself in an attempt to buoy the bruises. Despite the darkness, his eyes still made out the shape of the overturned frame on the opposite nightstand.
Even while it was face-down, its glass face cracked beyond repair from the force of a previous breakdown, he recalled in perfect detail the picture it housed. You’d always insisted on printing out physical copies despite it having long since fallen to the wayside with the mass digitization nearly a century prior—the photo albums crammed into a box in the top of the closet were painful reminders of that habit. That one in particular had been your favorite: the pair of you at the park, lying on a canvas, red and white gingham picnic blanket, faces turned toward each other’s and away from the sun. You’d snuck the picture while he hadn’t been paying attention, having shut his eyes briefly because it had been unseasonably warm for early autumn, and he’d admittedly almost drifted off breathing in the fruity scent of your shampoo. You’d never told him about it until he’d noticed it’s addition on your bedside table a week later.
It had been the day of your fifth wedding anniversary. He’d lost you in a nearly identical manner to 928C’s alternative version of you—an inexplicable accident at Alchemax in the robotics laboratory where you’d enlisted your profession. Only when he’d tried to investigate further, he’d been drugged with Rapture by the CEO, and his attempt to revert his DNA back to its previous state was thwarted, resulting in…well, the monster of a genetic disaster that he was now, having to regularly utilize injecting a modified serum to tamp down the more feral aspects of the spider DNA slowly but surely attempting to overwrite his own.
His suit was technology you had developed. LYLA was a product of your collaboration with him. There were still sprinkles of you throughout his entire life, even though he’d buried you three years prior—the dimensional travel watch was spawned from the earliest prototypes that you had started, the Go-Home Machine adjacent technology, the anomaly analysis system—he couldn’t escape the ghosts of your influence no matter how much he tried.
Not that he wanted to. It was both torture and comfort to have you so close.
But losing you prematurely is what had spurred him to irrationality, upon discovering the neighboring universe where you’d lived instead and his alternative self had died—and the fact that you’d had Gabriella had broken what little resolve he’d tried to initially maintain. (Miguel didn’t want to think about the possibility that you might have been pregnant when you’d gone—he’d been vehemently avoiding the thought for years, and he’d continue to do so until the day he died because he wasn’t certain he could bear the confirmation of his worst fear.)
But his desperation to deny the multiverse of its cruel dictation of his life story had come back to bite him—he had paid the ultimate price for his negligence twice over.
Miguel squeezed his eyes shut against the hot sting threatening to spill over. He thought he’d been doing better—an incorrect assumption, evidently. The inconsistency of grief was what struck him blind every time. He’d known that he faced the likely possibility of running into another you going in to apprehend the anomaly, but…hearing your voice had nearly unmended him at the seams. Knowing he’d almost been too late to stop yet another you from getting killed…it had been all he could do to keep it together. Yes, he’d come across as dickish as a result—but if Jess knew how hard it had been to look at you (even if you weren’t his you) without falling at your knees, she’d understand why. He had to distance himself in order to spare both himself and this different version of you from the perpetual destruction that plagued him wherever he tread. He couldn’t lose you again. It would unmake him.
The rip of fabric tipped Miguel off that he’d accidentally perforated his pillowcase. Again. He groaned under his breath, curling himself further around the pillow wedged under his ribcage. The faintest whiffs of your old perfume clung to the cotton, and Miguel inhaled it greedily despite the sorrow that threatened to overcome him at the visceral memories it summoned behind his eyelids.
…He remembered that day in the picture clearly. You’d tasted like strawberries from the large bowl you’d eaten mostly by yourself, the sweetness and tartness lingering under your tongue. He could still feel the warmth of your hands on his face, your fingers carding through his hair as he’d rested in your lap while you read to him from your latest rom-com novel. You’d both ended up falling asleep for a few hours, exhausted from long shifts at work with increasingly demanding schedules, waking to the evening golden hour being overtaken by an ominous cumulonimbus. Halfway home the rain had started, and you’d both been soaked to the bone clambering into your shared apartment—and despite the chill, despite the wicker basket forever remaining warped from the overabundance of moisture, despite your recurring teasing over the years about his forecast research falling painfully short, you’d often recalled that day with unfathomable fondness.
He also remembered the desperation of his name on your lips when he’d found you after the explosion, already half-gone. You’d been terrified, confused—yet once you’d realized the inevitability of the situation, you’d circled around to comfort him instead. He’d never forgive himself for his own weakness preventing him from giving you peace, knowing he’d be all right as you’d slipped away, far beyond his mortal reach. (He wasn’t. But he’d wanted you to think he would be.)
That same desperation had tinged your alternate’s voice earlier. The terror, the confusion. He’d been fighting back tears at the agonizing recollection.
He let them spill, now, muffling himself into his pillow in a vain, feeble effort not to break the silence of his empty bedroom in his empty quarters that comprised his empty home.
…Maybe Jess had been right, after all, he thought later, once he’d had no more grief to shed. Face damp, eyes aching, head throbbing once more, he traced mindless patterns into the top sheet where you would have lain with his talon—always facing him, unless he’d managed to talk you into letting him hold you from behind. If this is how badly he felt from less than a minute’s worth of dialogue, how would you feel?
He did owe you an apology. And as much as the thought pained him, they did need more help around HQ. Miguel drifted into a fitful sleep, wondering if you looked any different under your mask.
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Love is in the Air
hello! this is a sickfic from your sick Lou. I wrote and published this all in one hour, don't ask questions. it contains major Vaincre spoilers, you've been warned!
have a sick Alex O'Hara and his partners taking care of him. this is set after Vaincre, and therefore features a retired Kasey.
all characters belong to @lumosinlove. read it on ao3 here.
“I gotta go to All Stars.”
“No, you don’t.”
“But I do. I can’t miss it.”
“Alex, All Stars was three months ago.”
“I gotta go.”
“No.”
Kasey smiled despite the situation. A sick Alex O’Hara was…something. A helpless bundle of blankets and tissues that insisted he could do everything on his own. I’ve lived on my own for years, Winter. His scowls would have been more convincing if not followed by a series of sneezes every time.
Natalie entered the bedroom with a bag of candy in hand. She popped one in her mouth.
“What is he on about?”
“He absolutely has to go to All Stars.”
Her eyebrows went up with a smile as she approached the bed. “Wasn’t one enough for you, big boy?”
Alex mumbled something, burying himself deeper into his nest.
Natalie sat on the bed next to him, shooting a glance at Kasey, across the infamous pile, who was chewing his lip. Alex sighed in relief as soon as a cool hand touched his forehead.
“His fever went up,” she stated.
Kasey nodded. “Yeah. He’s been talking nonsense since he woke up from his nap.”
She hummed. “I called Ramsey. He and Haley are in Gryffindor for Finn’s game but he asked me to keep them updated. He doesn’t get sick often, he said. Or at all.”
Their fingers met mid-stroking red hair, and held on to each other for a moment.
It was just a fever, nothing to panic about. But it was the first time they got to take care of Alex together, and he was taking a while to get back on his feet. The doctor on the phone had mentioned the stress of the season, that didn’t mix well with the constant moving around of roadies. Alex had scrunched his nose, looking elsewhere, in a silent this has never happened before. Kasey had taken his hand in a firm grip. If there was someone who understood the frustration of your own body beginning to act differently, that was him. And just like Alex was helping through it all, Kasey was ready to do the same. For a fever or an injury, he would be there.
The bundle of blankets stirred.
“Nat,” Alex called without emerging from his nuzzle. “Will you be my date at All Stars?”
Natalie smiled, shaking her head. “Alexander, I was your date at All Stars. Three months ago.”
Alex sighed. “Kasey is sabotaging my presence at All Stars.”
“Is he now?”
“You’d think he’d be more supportive, wouldn’t ya.”
“So much hate,” she agreed, looking at Kasey with a grin.
He shook his head, bringing another blanket up to the redhead’s shoulders to stop the trembling. And left a kiss there, as if to trap the heat. When he noticed the candies on Natalie’s lap, his eyebrows shot up.
“Speaking of hate, aren’t those candies supposed to be for the weak?”
She took another one, looking at Kasey. “Alex, baby, do you want your candy right now?”
A low groan answered.
“Yeah, how about later,” she said softly, bringing a third one to her mouth. Point taken.
Kasey scoffed. “Yeah, if there’ll be any left for later.”
One of the few pillows survivors of the blanket nest hit his shoulder weakly, and they laughed. Alex scooted closer to where Kasey was lying at his side, getting comfortable on his chest. Big arms kept him close, drawing a happy sound from under the blankets.
Natalie stared at them for a moment before getting up. “Okay. I’ll go check on the soup. Should I bring it here?”
Kasey looked up at her. “I’ll investigate.”
They shared a quick kiss, and Natalie left a soft peck on Alex’s back before leaving the room.
Silence lasted…longer than usual. It was a rare thing, with an O’Hara in the room. The raspy breaths and the mix of stirs and trembling were a strange comfort against Kasey, a moving presence that kept Alex from falling into quietness.
“She was stunning.”
He said it so quietly that Kasey had to ask him to repeat.
“At All Stars. She was stunning.” He sniffled against his hoodie. “She, she was wearing that dress. That silk dress. It was wow. How did she call that kind of blue?”
Kasey smiled. “Light steel blue.”
“Light steel blue,” Alex repeated to himself. “She’s always so wow. ’nd so are you.”
“Thank you. You’re pretty wow yourself.”
Alex huffed. “Yeah, I bet. ’specially right now.”
Kasey shrugged. “You are to us.”
He felt a head shaking in disagreement somewhere below his neck. “’M all sweaty and sick and stinky.” Then the head finally emerged. “Why are you here? You shouldn’t be here. You’ll get sick, too.”
His face was red, radiating heat at the mere sight. The weekend scruff had turned into a week-old scruff, and messy hair was in every direction. His eyes were a glassy gaze, and just below, purple circles from sleepless nights were slow to fade. Kasey brought the hair back from the pearly forehead and left a careful kiss there. A fever kiss, half temperature check, half concern.
“Nah,” he replied softly. “I’m fine here.” He gently brought the burning head to rest on his shoulder, chest expanding at the way Alex’s fists grasped his hoodie.
Truth was, it was the first time in years he had the possibility to stay close to Alex with one of them being sick. No coaches or team doctors warning to limit contact with sick players, or roadies and games keeping them apart. Kasey found he missed many things about the League, but there was also a long list of discoveries and relief that didn’t end with letting his body rest. Finally being able to take care of Alexander and being close to him was a wonderful, new thing. And not just for the time of a weekend, or a home game. It was their new life. It was amazing.
He gathered the man closer to him, keeping his voice down to reduce the wincing Alex couldn’t help with too loud noises. We’re going to take care of you. You’re going to rest, and I can give you a massage later. I know your back is still hurting. Dinner will be ready soon. We can have it here or on the couch, if you feel like moving. Then you’ll have your candies. And your meds. And I’ll be here the whole time. I’ve been waiting for this, Berry.
Alexander stirred some more, head buried in Kasey’s neck. “Love you, Winter. In sickness’n’health’n’all.”
Kasey smiled in his hair. “Yeah. ’n all.”
.
.
.
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character list
the title is self explanatory. this is a list of the characters i'll write for. it'll probably change over time, and if you see a character you'd like but don't see them on the list, just ask cause i might've forgotten about them
Hamilton
Eliza Schuyler
Angelica Schuyler
Peggy Schuyler
Maria Reynolds
Alexander Hamilton
John Laurens
Philip Hamilton
Lafayette
Hercules Mulligan
James Madison
Thomas Jefferson
Aaron Burr
Umbrella Academy
Viktor Hargreeves
Diego Hargreeves
Klaus Hargreeves
Allison Hargreeves
Luther Hargreeves
Five Hargreeves
Ben Hargreeves (Umbrella or Sparrow)
Sloane Hargreeves
Jayme Hargreeves
Stranger Things
Will Byers (non female readers only)
Mike Wheeler
Lucas Sinclair
Dustin Henderson
Eleven Hopper
Max Mayfield
Robin Buckley (non male readers only)
Nancy Wheeler
Jonathan Byers
Steve Harrington
Eddie Munson
21 Chump Street
Justin Laboy
The Goldfinch
Boris Pavlikovsky
Theodore Decker
Marvel
Peter Parker (any actor)
Steve Rogers
Bucky Barnes
Sam Wilson
Makkari
Sersi
Sprite (platonic only)
Steven Grant
Marc Spector
Layla El-Faouly
America Chavez (non male readers only)
Kate Bishop
Yelena Belova (platonic only)
Shuri
Namor
Riri Williams
X-Men
Mystique
Kitty Pryde
Peter Maximoff
Rogue
Logan Howlette
Wade Wilson/Deadpool
Scott Summers
In The Heights (movie version)
Usnavi de la Vega
Vanessa
Nina Rosario
Benny
Sonny de la Vega
Heathers
Veronica Sawyer
JD (Jason Dean)
Heather Chandler
Heather McNamara
Heather Duke
John Doe
John Doe
Ride The Cyclone
Noel Gruber (male or nb readers only)
Ocean O'Connel Rosenburg
Mischa Bachinski
Constance Blackwood
Ricky Potts
Hatchetfieldverse
Paul Matthews
Emma Perkins
Ted Spankoffski
Bill Woodard
Ruth Fleming
Pete Spankoffski
Richie Lipschitz
Max Jagerman
Grace Chasity
Lex Foster
Ethan Green
Hannah Foster (platonic only)
Heartstopper
Charlie Spring (non female readers only)
Nick Nelson
Tara Jones (non male readers only)
Darcy Olsson (non male readers readers only)
Elle Argent
Tao Xu (non male readers only(headcanoning him as bi or pan is disrespectful and transphobic))
Tori Spring
Imogen Heaney
Isaac Henderson (platonic only)
Do Revenge
Eleanor Levetan (non male readers only)
Drea Torres
Wednesday
Wednesday Addams
Enid Sinclair
Bianca Barclay
Xavier Thorpe
Ajax Petropolus
Eugene Otinger
(young) Morticia Addams
(young) Gomez Addams
Beetlejuice
Lydia Deetz
Tomorrow When The War Began
Ellie Linton
Lee Takkam
Fiona Maxwell
Homer Yannos
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse/Across the Spider-Verse
Miles Morales
Gwen Stacy
Pavitr Prabhakar
Hobie Brown
Margo Kess
Miles G Morales (earth 42)
Miguel O’Hara
Maze Runner
Thomas
Newt (non female readers only)
The Broken Hearts Gallery
Lucy Gulliver
Nadine (non male readers only)
Nick Danielson
Treasure Planet
Jim Hawkins
Enola Holmes
Enola Holmes
Lord Tewkesbury
Turning Red
Mei Mei
Miriam
Abby
Priya
Raising Dion
Nicole Warren
Tevin Wakefield
Dion Warren (platonic only)
Julie and the Phantoms
Julie Molina
Luke Patterson
Reggie Peters
Alex Mercer (non female readers only)
Flynn
Carrie
Abbott Elementary
Janine Teagues
Jacob Hill (non female readers only)
Gregory Eddie
Brooklyn Nine-Nine
Jake Peralta
Amy Santiago
Rosa Diaz
Love Victor
Victor Salazar (non female readers only)
Benji (non female readers only)
Felix Weston
Pilar Salazar
Lake Meriwether
Lucy
Mia Brooks
Andrew
In Treatment
Eladio
Laila
Spree
Kurt Kunkle
Once Upon a Time
Emma Swan
Regina Mills
Killian Jones
Mary Margaret Blanchard
David Nolan
Henry Mills
Mulan (non male readers only)
Graham
Neal Cassidy
Peter Pan
Jefferson
Dash and Lily
Dash
Lily
Boomer
Juno
Juno MacGuff
Paulie Bleeker
Summer Days Summer Nights
Debbie Espinoza
Frankie Espinoza
Scream (1 through 6)
Sidney Prescott
Billy Loomis
Mickey Altieri
Roman Bridger
Jill Roberts
Charlie Walker
Sam Carpenter
Tara Carpenter
Amber Freeman
Chad Meeks-Martin
Mindy Meeks-Martin
Quinn Bailey
Venom
Eddie Brock
Honest Thief
Ramon Hall
Beth Hall
Wild Child
Poppy Moore
Kate
Drippy
Freddie Kingsley
Monsters and Men
Manny Ortega
Marisol Ortega
Ghostbusters: Afterlife
Trevor Spengler
Phoebe Spengler (platonic only)
Error 143
Micah Yujin
Community
Abed Nadir
Troy Barnes
Annie Edison
Jeff Winger
Britta Perry
The Obession
Logan
Delilah
The New Girl
Lia Setiawan
Stacey Hoffman
Mythic Quest
Poppy Li
Brad Bakshi
Adventure Time
Finn
Princess Bubblegum
Marceline
Marshall Lee
Prince Bubblegum
Flame Princess
School Spirits
Madison
Simon
Charley (non female readers only)
Wally
Rhonda
Dungeons and Dragons: Honour Among Thieves
Simon Aumar
Disventure Camp
Aiden (non fem readers only)
James (non fem readers only)
Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies
Jane Facciano
Olivia Valdovinos
Nancy Nakagawa
Cynthia Zdunowski
Richie Valdovinos
Ted Lasso
Ted Lasso
Roy Kent
Jamie Tartt
Keeley Jones
Sam Obisanya
Transformers: Rise of the Beasts
Noah Diaz
Elena Wallace
Mirage
Helluva Boss
Blitzø
Stolas (non female readers only)
Loona
Millie
Moxxie
Octavia
Verosika Mayday
Fizzarolli
Asmodeus
Hazbin Hotel
Charlie Morningstar
Vaggie (non male readers only)
Angel Dust (non female readers only)
Husk
Alastor (platonic only)
Vox
Lucifer
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (rise + mutant mayhem + tmnt 2007 + tmnt 2012)
Donnie
Mikey
Raph
Leo
April
The After Party
Yasper Lennov
Space Force
Tony Scarapiducci
Renfield
Teddy Lobo
Robert Montague Renfield
Undercovers
Bill Hoyt
Amazing Digital Circus
Jax
Parks and Recreation
Leslie Knope
Ben Wyatt
April Ludgate
Andy Dwyer
Jean-Ralphio Saperstein
Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja
Randy Cunningham (18+ people DNI unless requesting platonic stories)
The Earliest Show
Josh Bath
House of Lies
Clyde Oberholt
Mean Girls (movie + musical + movie musical)
Cady Heron
Regina George
Gretchen Wieners
Karen Smith/Shetty
Janis Ian/Sarkisian/Imi'ike (non male readers only)
Damian Hubbard (non female readers only)
Warm Bodies
R
Peep World
Nathan Meyerwitz
Your Boyfriend
Peter Dunbar
Invincible
Mark Grayson
Shapesmith
Chilling Adventures of Sabrina
Sabrina Spellman
Harvey Kinkle
Nick Scratch
Rosalind Walker
Theo Putnam
Prudence Blackwood
Ambrose Spellman
High School Musical: the Musical the Series
Gina Porter
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Update on how many unique characters you’ve received?
As usual, super long list, so here we go!
These characters have two+ (2+) submissions, and are likely to be included.
Vriska Serkat
Eridan Ampora
Shiver
Kokichi Ouma
Haiji Towa
Minoru Mineta
Simon
Boston
Bill Cipher
John Gaius
Regal Farseer
Ayin
Kylo Ren
Mal
Jurgen Leitner
Merlin
Darkstalker
Kyubey
Ty Betteridge
Sasuke Uchiha
Dazai Osamu
Glenn Quagmire
Rose Quartz
Makima
c!Dream
Izzy Hands
Akio Ohtori
Katsuki Bakugo
Bramblestar
Michael
Don Quixote Doflamingo
Elias Bouchard/Jonah Magnus
Ansem the Wise
Kusaka Masato
Azula
The Metatron
Evan Hansen
Stella Goetia
Pierce Hawthorne
Le’garde
Lance Dubois
Santa Claus
Meenah Peixes / Her Imperious Condescension
Greg Heffley
Tony Stark
Donald Trump
Jace Herondale / Wayland / Lightwood / Morgenstern
Teddy / Kuma
Mr. Bungee
Julia Mazzone
Sentinel Prime
William Afton
Cullen Rutherford
Shou Tucker
Junko Enoshima
Ardyn Izunia
Sosuke Aizen
Happosai
Simon Laurent
Caillou
Ōchi Fukuchi
Jin Guanyao
Micah Bell
Cici
These characters have been submitted only once, and have a lower chance of being accepted.
Michael Scott
Detective Saracusa
Paul Von Oberstein
JJ
Box
Damian Wayne
Cersei Iannister
Shredder
Splinter
John ‘Jack’ Seward
Akane
Abyss Sibling
House
Nickel
Julie-Sue
Tim Drake
Xisuma
Dr. John ‘Jack’ Seward
Hisoka
Gra’ha Tia
Elias Ainsworth
Trishna
Erlina and Brugaves
Five Pebbles
The Entirety Of Homestuck
Willy Stampler
Miguel O’Hara
Medusa Gorgon
Gamzee Makara
Rohan Kishibe
Teruhashi Makoto
Gordon Blackwall
Rebecca Costwolds
Dio
Anakin Skywalker
Sigma Kilm
Caesar Clown
Shiki Tohno/Nanaya
Mori Ougai
Asuka
Marlon
Pencil
Touichiro Suzuki
Alexander Hamilton
Georg Weissmann
Dean Winchester
The Operator
Kromer
Scrappy Doo
Foreman Oyun
The Eleventh Doctor
Any Character From Welcome to Nightvale
Will Shuester
Marie
Silver Spoon
Jayne Cobb
Byakuya Togami
Prince Louis
Coco
Princess Daisy
Light Yagami
The Pale King
Yoshiharu Hisomu
Himiko Toga
Sebastian Mechaelias
Mystery Hunter (Jeremiah Hartley)
Muzan Kibutsuji
Clara Oswald
Ranpo Edogawa (Beast)
Heath cliff
Inspector Tobias Greyson
Roland
Huey Emmerich
Tom Wambsgans
Yuri Briar
Jacopo Bearzatti
Quiche
Alastor
Meredith Rodney McKay
Every Single Country In 1993
Cicero
Val Velocity
Jiren
Noor Pradesh
Blackbeard
Kristoph Gavin
Morris
Dan Moroboshi
Muu Kusunoki
Julia
Shen Jiu
April O’Neil (2012)
Johnny
Adam
Ronaldo
Makoto Itou
Ianthe Tridentarius
Disembodied Voice
Viren
Spamton
George Wickham
Floch
The New Ninja
Sakazuki Akainu
Petyr Baelish / Littlefinger
Childe
Wen Chao
Stormcaller
Chibiusa
Ashfur
Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd
James T. Kirk
Billy
Mikan Tsumuki
Teruteru
Orochi
Millions Knives
The Mage
Lotor
Otto Apocalypse
Sanji
Woodes Rogers
Zeke Jaeger
Dean Venture
Absalom
Aloise Trancey
Cynte
Akito Sohma
Pierre
Monokubs (Except Monodam)
Edelgard
Chrollo Lucifer
Chloe Bourgeois
Zhou Zishu
Wanderer/Scaramouche
Elon Musk
Il Dottore
Goeffry St. John
Nikola Tesla
Louie
Ogai Mori
Astarion
Mary Keay
Dr. Henry Miller
Booker
Voice In The Calm Ad On Spotify
Akechi Goro
Victor Frankenstein
Five
Riley Finn
Anyone From The Locked Tomb
Elias Ainsworth
Nefera DeNile
Angel Dust
Blitzo Buckzo
The Once-Ler
Moash
Zenos Galvus
Marvin Falsettos
Solf J. Kimblee
Father / Dwarf In The Glass
Henry the Eighth
Aranea Serkat
Bro-Strider
Caliborn / Lord English
Feferi Peixes
Skizzleman
Black Pete
Narumi
Cozy Glow
Holly Blue Agate
Every Genshin Impact Character Ever
Drew
Dio (Zero Escape)
Matou Shinji
Chris McClain
Thistleclaw
Rumpelstiltskin
Ruruka Ando
Sheldon Cooper
Buck Cluck
Valens Van Varro
Verstael Besithia
Kevin
France (Hetalia)
Tumblr Staff
Slayer
Volgin
Yumichika Ayasegawa
Roshi
Chibiusa
Akio Himemiya
Ali Lectric
Rafe Cameron
Raven Queen
Duke
Sandy
Everyone In Romeo And Juliet
Bella Swan
Haiji Senri
Tsumugi Aoba
Vivienne Medranno’s Impsona
Buzz McCallister
Eugene Coli
Live Action Buggy
Aizen Sosuke
Kyouichi Saionji
Ibara Saegusa
Yu Ziyuan
Mahiru Koizumi
The Little Palace Mistress
Eichi Tenshouin
The Old Palace Master
Rafal
Jonah Magnus
Queen Scarlet
Nanami Kiryuu
Hiyoko Saionji
God
Roger
Judo
Ken
Steven Universe
JD
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1 & 4 for the ask game
Hey Akira! Thank you for the ask!
1. Newest F/O? Oldest F/O? Any similarities between them? What's the biggest difference/s between them?
My newest F/O (or at least one of them) is Akuma from Street Fighter! And my oldest one is Thel Vadam from Halo! They’re both old men and pretty stoic for the most part. The BIGGEST is that Thel is more of a hero while Akuma is typically more of a Villain
4. Something you associate with your F/O-- a color, a item, etc; answer for multiple if you want
Hehe since it’s been a while since I’ve done an ask game let me answer this for ALL my F/Os 😈
Damon- The color Orange
Gumshoe- The color Green
Diego- Coffee
Marceline- Metal music
Marshall Lee- Same thing as Marcy
Scar- The color Black
Wolf- The color Neon Green
Gummigoo- Gummies (obviously)
Pieck- Carts
Doppo- Tigers
Retsu- Martial Arts
Halsin- Bears
Bojack- Depression (This isn't a joke. The first time I ever felt seen as a person with depression was from watching Bojack Horseman)
Tiffany- Black Widows
Crash Bandicoot- Looney Tunes
Dingodile- Cool animal hybrids
Grog- Barbarians
Atrocitus- The color Crimson Red
Bane- Luchdors
Killer Croc- Crocodiles
Gundham- Hamsters
All three of my Skeksis F/Os make me think of Vultures
Oni- Onis
Trapper- The freaking DBD Dating Sim 😆
Senshi- Cooking
Hagenezuka- Swordsmithing
Vergil- The Color Blue
Maui- Fish Hooks
Krem- Honestly don’t have anything for him yet 😅
Jiren- Don’t have anything for him either 😅
Cobra- Poison
Gajeel- Iron
Iskandar- Anything to do with Greek culture
Kirei- Priests
Gladio- Tattoos
Leonard- Fire
Foxy- Animatronics
Bradley- Homunculus
Broadway- Patrick Star from Spongebob
Brooklyn- Motorcycles
Goliath- Keith David
Kratos- Pantheons
Thor- Norse Myth
Ford- The Supernatural
Thel- Sci-Fi
Angel- Jumping Spiders
Hellboy- Demons
Alexander- Vampire hunters
Stolas- Owls
Dirk- Anime shades
Svarog- The color purple
Welt- Brown and White
Omni Man- That Mustache
Gojo- Blue and White
Geto- Gauges
Ganondorf- Green and Orange
Tauro- Archaeology
Bowser- Jack Black 😂
Luigi- The color Green
Magneto- Magnets
Miguel O’Hara- Vampires
Tali- Purple and Gold
Wrex- Red and Black
Tom- Baking
Shao- Dragons
Smoke- The color Gray
Enji- Fire
Shota- The color Black
Toshinori- Sunflowers
Jiraiya- Frogs
Brook- Skeletons
Oven- Heat
Crocodile- Sand
Jimbei- Whale Sharks
Kin’emon- Samurai
Baptiste- Greenish-Blue
Mauga- Maui 😂
Reinhardt- Lions
Mako- Pigs
Sigma- Space
Belos- The color Gold
Kabu- The color red
Feral Predator- Skulls
Fugitive Predator- Don’t really have anything for him 😅
Chris- Umbrellas
Blake- Cats
Hazel- Olive Green
Tyrian- Scorpions
Yang- The color Yellow
Rao- Don’t have anything for him
John- Traps
Double Trouble- Lizards
Hordak- Bats
Horde Prime- Green and White
Ketahn- Spiders
Bob Velseb- Michael Myers
Greg- Rose Quartz gems
Akuma- Demons
E. Honda- Sumo
Zangief- The color red
Draxum- Sheep
Bebop- Warthogs
Rocksteady- Rhinos
Meat Sweats- Gordon Ramsey
Splinter- Rats
Thomas- Chainsaws
Grune- Sabertooth Tigers
Kaynar- Jackals
Panthro- Panthers
Banjou- Don’t have anything for him
Renji- Don’t have anything for him
Tooru- The color Green
Barnaby and Eddie both remind me of Jim Henson Muppets
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The Exhibitors Herald, June 1926
The first of the deluxe presentations was at the Forrest theatre, Philadelphia, Thursday evening. The audience was composed largely of members of the Advertising Clubs of the World, which was holding an international convention in the Quaker City, and the members of the Poor Richard Club. There were also present a large turnout of society, official and judicial life of Philadelphia.
The other audience, which included Mrs. Coolidge, members of the diplomatic corps and Washington newspapermen, as guests of the National Press club, viewed the picture at a special screening Friday night at Poli’s theatre in Washington.
General W. W. Atterbury; Senator-elect [and notorious political boss] Wm. S. Vare; Senator [and law professor] George W. Pepper; Lieut. Commander Geo. B. Wilson, U. S. Navy [not to be confused with the character from the Great Gatsby] ; Mrs. Barclay Warburton [civil rights supporter and journalist] ; Major Norman MacLeod; E. T. Stottsbury; Paul Thompson; Alexander Van Rensselaer; Mrs. Charlemagne Tower; Dr. H. J. Tily [department story owner, mason] ; Mr. and Mrs. Theodore W. Reath; Frank Smith; Mr. and Mrs. Jos. N. Snellenburg [merchant in clothing trade] ; Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Block; Mr. and Mrs. Jules E. Mastbaum [movie theater and department store magnates] ; George Nitsche [possibly an affiliate of U. Penn]; Josiah H. Penniman [Provost of U. Penn] ; J. Willis Martin [a judge]; H. S. McDevitt; John J. Monaghan.
Judge Buffington, of Pittsburgh; Thos Finletter [could be one of a a number of lawyers with this name]; Mr. and Mrs. A. L. Einstein; Maurice Paillard, French consul; Robt. Von Moschzisker [justice of the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania]; Mayor W. Freeland Kendrick; Geo. H. Elliott, director of public safety; Chas. B. Hall, president of City Council; Dr. Charles Hart; Rev. Wm. H. Fineschriber; Chas Fox, district attorney [could be a coincidence but Charles Fox III and IV are both currently lawyers in Pennsylvania]; John Fisler, president Manufacturers Club [golf afficianado]; Albert M. Greenfield [real estate broker and developer]; Jos. P. Gaffney; Mr. and Mrs. Ellis Gimbel [department store owner]; Daniel Gimbel [brother and co-owner along with Ellis]; J. D. Lit; Richard Gimbel [son of Ellis Gimble]; Benedict Gimbel [brother of Ellis and Daniel]; Colonel Robert Glendinning [banker]; Benjamin Golder [member of the Pennsylvania State House of Representatives], Agnew T. Dice [President of Reading Railroad].
Dr. Leon Elmaleh [founder of the Levantine Jews Society of Philadelphia]; H. Gilbert Cassidy [a judge]; Utley E. Crane [author of Business Law for Business Men]; Cyrus H. K. Curtis [magazine publisher]; Chas. S. Caldwell; G. W. Cole; Hampton L. Carson [lawyer, professor, state Attorney general]; A. Lincoln Acker [Philidelphia port collector]; Max Aron [lawyer]; Eugene C. Bonniwell [a judge]; Chas. L. Brown; Edward Groome; Chas. L. Bartlett; Edward Bok [editor of the Ladies Home Journal]; Mr. and Mrs. Geo. H. Lorimer [editor of the Saturday Evening Post]; Edw. Bacon; Chas. Curtis Harrison [a judge]; Samuel S. Eels, Rev. J. J. O’Hara [future Archbishop of Philadelphia], and Bishop Thos. J. Garland, D. D. [Episcopalian bishop]
There were a bunch of Universal employees in attendance too but that's less interesting to me. Let's see who went to the Washington show
Both showings were under the auspices of Ambassador Henri Beragner of France and Marcel Knecht, French publisher and trade representative.
Dr. Ferdnand Heurteur, leader of the orchestra of the Paris Opera House, came to the United States to conduct the orchestras at these two showings.
Among the distinguished guests at the Washington showing were:
Don Juan Riano, Spanish ambassador; Senor and Senora de Mathieu, Chilan ambassador; Raoul Tilmont, secretary, Belgium embassy; G. H. Thompson, second secretary, British embassy; A. J. Pack, British embassy; Eduardo Racedo and Madame Racedo, first secretary, Argentine embassy; Conrado Traverso, Argentine embassy; Dr. and Senora Velarde, Peruvian ambassador; Dr. and Madame Santiago F. Bedoya, secretary, Peruvian embassy; Senor and Senora Tellez, Mexican ambassador; Senor and Senora Castro, secretary, Mexican embassy; Ambassador de Martino, Italy; Colonel Augusto Villa, miltary attache, Italian embassy; Count and Countess Sommati di Mombello, Italian embassy; Signor Leonardo Vitetti, Italian embassy.
Baron and Baroness Ago Maltzan, German embassy; Mr. and Madame Matsuidaira, Japanese embassy; Mr. and Madame Gurgel de Amaral, Brazilian embassy; Senor and Senora de Sanchez Aballi, Cuban embassy; Senor Don Jose T. Baron, secretary, Cuban embassy; Brigadier General Georges A. L. Dumont, military attache, French embassy; Mr. Jules Henry, first secretary, French embassy; Major and Madame Georges Thenault, French embassy; Captain and Madame Willm, French embassy; Mr. A. Konow Bojsen, secretary, Danish legation; Mr. and Madame Marc Peter, Swiss ambassador; Mr. Andor de Hertelendy, Hungarian embassay; Senor and Senora Ricardo Jaimes Freyre, Bolivian embassy.
Mr. and Mrs. Timothy A. Smiddy, minister, Irish Free State; Mr. and Madame Simoposilis, Minister from Greece; Mr. and Madame Prochnik, Austrian ambassador; Mr. and Madame Charles L. Seya, Latvian embassy; Mahmoud Samy Pasha and Madame Samy Pasha, Egyptian embassy; Mr. Zdenek Fierlinger, Minister from Czechoslovakia; Mr. Simeon Radeff, Bulgarian embassy; Mr. and Madame Jan Ciechanowski, Polish minister; Senor don Manuel Zavala, Nicaragua embassy, and Mr. and Madame Bostrom, Swedish ambassador.
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Marvel Latino Superheroes Part 1
1. María Aracely Josefina Penalba de las Heras aka Hummingbird - Mexican born
2. Miles Morales aka Spider Man - biracial; half Puerto Rican and half black
3. Miguel Santos aka Living Lightning - Hispanic nationality unknown but is American born
4. Sam Alexander aka Nova - biracial; half Mexican and half white
5. Victor Alvarez aka Power Man - biracial; Afro-Dominican
6. Humberto Lopez aka Reptil - Mexican born
7. Roberta Mendez aka Captain America 2099 - Hispanic nationality unknown but is American born
8. Miguel O’Hara aka Spider Man 2099 - biracial; half Irish and half Mexican
9. Bonita Juarez aka Firebird - Chicana (Mexican American)
10. Robbie Reyes aka Ghost Rider - Chicano (Mexican American)
11. Alejandra Jones aka Ghost Rider - Hispanic nationality unknown
12. Maya Lopez aka Echo - half Hispanic and half Cheyenne, the former nationality is unknown
13. Ajak aka The Legendary Inca Warrior - Peruvian born
14. Anya Corazon aka Arana - half Mexican and half Puerto Rican American
15. Gabriel Vargas aka Captain Universe - Chicano (Mexican American)
16. Gabriel Carlos Dantes Sepulveda aka Defensor - Argentinian born
17. Fabio Medina aka Egg (formerly known as Goldballs) - Hispanic nationality unknown but is American born
18. America Chavez aka Miss America - biracial; Afro-Puerto Rican Caribbean
19. Carmen Cruz aka Gimmick - biracial; Afro-Latina
20. Laura Kinney aka Wolverine - biracial; Afro-Latina and half white; her exact ethnicity is unknown but first appearance (in the animated X-Men: Evolution series) depicts her with dark skin and her “mother” had darker skintone with blonde hair. Her creators didn’t specify her ethnicity but I do think she’s Hispanic. And given the darker skintone of her “mother”, she’s most likely Afro-Latina. I know in recent comic adaptation portray her with way lighter skin tone but her ORIGINAL appearance shows her with DARKER skintone (thought not as dark as her “mother”). As such, I have seen Laura as half white and half Afro Latina but the Hispanic nationality is unknown. Also, as a side note, her creators also mentioned they planned to do a LGBT storyline with Laura but it was axed. So, she’s also LGBT.
21. Cecilia Reyes - Puerto Rican and depicted with dark-skinned complexion
22. Roberto da Costa aka Sunspot - biracial; Afro-Brazilian
23. Armando Munoz aka Darwin - biracial; Afro-Latino; Hispanic nationality unknown
24. Julio Richter aka Rictor - Mexican born
25. Gloria Dolores Muñoz aka Risque - biracial; half Seminole and half Cuban American
26. Brian Cruz aka Tag - Puerto Rican
27. Angel Salvadore aka Tempest - biracial; Afro-Latina; Hispanic nationality unknown
28. Lucia Callasantos aka Thornn - Hispanic nationality unknown
29. Benito Serrano aka Toro - Cuban
30. Gabriel Cohuelo aka Velocidad - Mexican born
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Welcome to my blog!
Hi! I’m Tay and I love all things spiderverse and Trolls, as well as some other fandoms listed in my bio that I also write for if requested.
Characters I will write for:
Spiderverse:
Hobie Brown
Miguel O’Hara
Gwen Stacy
Miles Morales
Pavitr Prabhakar
Peter B. Parker
Spider-Byte/Margo
My OC (Ari)
Trolls:
Branch
Poppy
Viva
Clay
Spruce/Bruve
John Dory
Floyd
Creek
King Trollex
Velvet
Veneer
Kid Ritz
Orchid
Cobra Kai
Johnny Lawrence
Daniel Larusso
John Kreese
Terry Silver
Tori Nichols
Robby Keene
Miguel Diaz
Moon
Yasmine
Demetri
Eli/Hawk
Samantha Larusso
Anthony Larusso
Hamilton:
Alexander Hamilton
Aaron Burr
Thomas Jefferson
James Madison
George Washington
Philip Hamilton
Eliza Hamilton
Peggy Schuyler
Angelica Schuyler
Beetlejuice (Movie/Musical):
Lydia Deetz
Delia
Beetlejuice
Barbara Maitland
Adam Maitland
Requests are: Open
What I will write:
Fluff/tooth rotting fluff
Of age Smut
Pregnancy
Fake dating
Friends to lovers
Enemies to lovers
Angst
What I will not write:
Incest of all kinds
Under-age smut
Water sports
Slow burn
Thank you for reading and please feel free to ask questions and submits requests!
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My name is Alexander or you can call me Roman
He/they/it/king/kit
I am gay & trans
I’ve been a fander since 2017(I think… it’s been a long time)
I do a lot of artwork and write fics
Miguel O’Hara blog is @miguel-ohara-lover where I post fanfics and other stuff, but I’d like to keep this blog and that one separate
Agere + petre
Personal tag: Roman sanders’ crown 👑
My author/artist name is just my initials so A.R.R. and I sign all my artwork with my signature
Dni: homophobic, racist, sexist, you know the drill
This is an lgbt+, agere, petre, ect safe space so if you aren’t okay with that and are here to start drama I will kindly ask you to leave and if you don’t I’m not afraid to make it public so that tumblr knows who you are 😊
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'Before he became one of cinema’s most prolific actors, Cillian Murphy was all set for a music career. He even attracted an incredibly tempting recording contract but changed course at the last minute to pursue a career in the movie business instead. Now, he stands as one of the greatest actors of a generation, bringing a mosaic of weird and wonderful characters to life on screen, including Scarecrow in Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight trilogy and the more recent J. Robert Oppenheimer in Oppenheimer.
As someone who once said, “I’m less interested in the good man’s life, I’m more interested in the conflicted man’s life or the contradictory man’s life”, Murphy’s interest in books comes as no surprise – particularly as many of his favourites tackle subjects like the complexities of human existence. For example, he cites Appointment in Samarra by John O’Hara as one he regards highly after being drawn into “the atmosphere and pressure of what it must have been like to be alive in America at that time”.
Similarly, John Healy’s The Grass Arena makes the cut for the power held over Murphy, who decided to read the book after years of recommendations. “It is the story of determination and rebirth,” Murphy says. “The tale of a chess champion who overcomes a savage childhood to live again. A powerful book indeed”.
One of the more heartbreaking works comes with Patrick McGabe’s The Butcher Boy, which details the story of a young boy who descends upon a fantasy world to escape from his troubling home life. For Murphy, the book left a lasting impression on account of its ability to blend a series of dichotomous emotions: “[It’s] dark, fiercely funny, compassionate, and unashamedly Irish. Its depiction of a young boy’s descent into isolation and madness in small-town Ireland has never left me”.
Meanwhile, one of Murphy’s all-time favourite Irish writers is John Banville, who also became known for his humour and sharp, wintery wit. His 2000 novel Eclipse, while being a complete contrast to The Butcher Boy, also etched its world into the mind of Murphy. “In this beautifully mediative tale,” he says, “Alexander Cleave is a celebrated actor who returns to live in his childhood home. The book seemingly has little or no plot, but the sheer towering beauty of its language, atmosphere and insight make it impossible to put down or to forget.”
The late J. P. Donleavy, best known for his novel The Ginger Man, was an Irish writer who wasn’t afraid to completely disrupt the common consensus. So much so that The Ginger Man was actually initially banned in the United Kingdom and Ireland for its obscenity. According to Murphy, this is a book designed to be “savoured over the course of a life”. He also praises its subject matter, stating that its mischief and humour go perfectly with its empathy, particularly in relation to the “outsider struggling to imagine a purpose in this world”.
Cillian Murphy’s 10 favourite books:
The Ginger Man – J. P. Donleavy
The Butcher Boy – Patrick McGabe
Eclipse – John Banville
The Sportswriter – Richard Ford
Rabbit Angstrom – John Updike
Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi – Geoff Dyer
Grief is the Thing with Feathers – Max Porter
The Old Man and the Sea – Ernest Hemingway
The Grass Arena – John Healy
Appointment in Samarra – John O’Hara'
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Model: Erin O’hara @oh_herna
Photographer: Alexander Tarazo @_tarazo
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Successful Return: Soyuz Capsule Safely Brings ISS Crew Back to Earth
(Source- Nasa)
A Russian Soyuz spacecraft completed its journey from the International Space Station (ISS) to Earth early Saturday, marking a smooth landing on the steppe of Kazakhstan. Onboard were Russian cosmonaut Oleg Novitskiy, Belarusian guest flier Marina Vasilevskaya, and NASA astronaut Loral O’Hara.
Touching down at 3:17 a.m. EDT, approximately 90 miles east of the town of Dzhezkazgan, the Soyuz MS-24/70S crew was greeted by Russian recovery crews who swiftly assisted them out of the cramped Soyuz descent module. After months in space, the returning fliers began the process of readjusting to Earth’s gravity.
Novitskiy, a seasoned astronaut, and first-time space traveler Vasilevskaya are expected to adapt quickly to terrestrial conditions. They launched on March 23 aboard the Soyuz MS-25/71S spacecraft, docking at the ISS two days later. After spending a brief two weeks aboard the station, they returned to Earth aboard the older Soyuz MS-24 spacecraft, which had previously transported O’Hara to the ISS last September.
Smooth Landing in Kazakhstan: Russian Soyuz Cosmonaut, Belarusian Guest Flier, and NASA Astronaut Touch Down
O’Hara’s return to Earth marked the conclusion of an impressive space mission, logging 204 days off the planet, completing 3,264 orbits, and covering 86.6 million miles. During her tenure, she also conducted a six-hour and 42-minute spacewalk. Novitskiy and Vasilevskya, on the other hand, logged 14 days in space, completing 224 orbits and traveling 5.9 million miles.
As they rested near their charred Soyuz descent capsule, the trio expressed gratitude and joy for their experiences in space. Vasilevskaya, speaking through a translator on NASA TV, conveyed her overwhelming emotions, emphasizing the preciousness of life on Earth and the incredible experience of space travel. She also extended her thanks to the people of Belarus, expressing her appreciation for the opportunity to represent her country in space.
Vasilevskaya’s journey carries historical significance as the first citizen of Belarus to fly in space since the dissolution of the Soviet Union. Despite ongoing tensions between the United States and Russia, collaboration in space endeavors persists, exemplified by joint operations aboard the ISS.
Reflecting on Their Journey: Gratitude and Achievements as Crew Members Readjust to Terrestrial Life
Meanwhile, the crew members left behind on the ISS, including ISS commander Oleg Kononenko and his team, continue their work in space. They are joined by new arrivals, including cosmonaut Alexander Grebenkin and NASA astronauts Matthew Dominick, Michael Barratt, and Jeanette Epps.
For O’Hara, Novitskiy, and Vasilevskaya, their return to Earth completes a complex rotation of ISS crew members, ensuring the station’s continuous operation and scientific research. Following brief medical checks and communication with loved ones, they are set to return to their respective homes, with O’Hara bound for Houston and Novitskiy and Vasilevskaya traveling back to Star City near Moscow. The successful landing of the Soyuz spacecraft underscores the ongoing cooperation and achievements in international space exploration, furthering humanity’s understanding of the cosmos.
Also Read: Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell Cautious on Rate Cuts amid Inflation Concerns
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