#blanca x ash

[kapa56]

More Banana Fish yapping

Now that I thinking about it, Black Lagoon is like Banana Fish but with slightly less trauma and without many scenes that make you die inside.

Also like both shows are about a Japanese men (Eiji and Rock) who lived a chill life and then randomly gets to experience the life of crime.

The other protagonist is someone used to this life, is a great fighter and has unresolved trauma (Ash and Revy).

And they end up developing fondness to one another

Pros about BL: I would say Black Lagoon has many more funnier moments and slightly less traumatic events. Also, the cast contains mostly female characters who add the most to the plot, are great fighters and have great dynamics between each other. It has a more gritty aesthetic, very 90's-early 00's vibe.

Pros about BF: it has more emotionally charged themes and it makes you feel a dozens of emotions per episode. The violence is less I would say but it's also more impactful because you get really attached to the characters (Ash, Eiji, Short, Yut-Lung, Sing etc). It also feels more artsy and deep.

Bonus:

They would definitely try to fight each other and then hookup.

Also, they give the same amount of diva and they would be besties (Yut-lung would teach Shenhua about poisoning and Shenhua would teach him about fighting with blades).

Sorry for the long ramble, but if you like Banana Fish, I think you should try Black Lagoon and vice versa.

[91939art]

🌤/🌙✨

🌟patreon | commission us🌟🌟

It took a while to figure out where we stand with these fellows, eventually

[luneariaa]

Hi there! I hope you're doing great! Could you write hc of ash lynx x fem reader? Which reader is exactly like gus fring in breaking bad. She is kind to people close to her but not with people like dino. She looks innocent and cute but not inside.

Sorry it's long. Please take your time. Thanks!!

HIII-!! 💜 thank you so much dear anon, hoping you are too! 💛🌻 you're fine,, and this is the first Ash req that i received actually,, (o´▽`o) ✨

honestly, i'm not too familiar with breaking bad, but did some quick research on the charac and stuff,, also, this is my first hc type of post so i hope this is alright! ( oh and Ash might be ooc here as well,, ) and i may have stray too far.. XD LMAO THIS TURNED OUT TO BE LONG AND OFF TOPIC AS IT PROGRESSES MY BAD--

also tagging : @bagelbanana and @r-e-m-i !! i've seen you both commenting on my old Ash post bef 💜🌻

- dividers by @/cafekitsune!! 🌻

to start with, your looks could deceive most people. some would assume that you're just a cute, regular girl roaming down the streets, when in fact, you weren't.

so this leads to some guys ( or so ) flirting and trying to make a move on you. as disgusting as you find them, you had to agree in a oh-so-sweet manner, giving them a certain location as to where to find you.

of course, when they arrived there expecting for some sort of a 'date' with you, they're receiving their dead end instead.

guys like that don't deserve any mercy, or that's how you have it personally set within your own mind. ( totally not projecting )

but also i think since you can't just carry a gun with you all the time, you instead carry some sort of a small switchblade.

i imagined that you, despite your quite young age ( maybe around 16-17 or so ), are able to manage your own restaurant, to which originally was owned by your father, who is a drug dealer of some sort. your mother is unknown.

because of how successful your father's business is with the drugs, you became the main target of the ones who planned to take down your father.

due to how busy he is, he wasn't that close to you. so you were left to fend mostly by your own.

he did train you a bit for some time, but eventually, he let a certain Kazakh professional assassin; Blanca to train you instead.

and i feel like Blanca lowkey wants to go a bit softer at you during training, and of course, you didn't want any of that honestly. your relationship with him is pretty alright, and you both pretty much respected each other at some point.

and there you met Ash himself, when Blanca was also assigned to train him by Dino Golzine.

okay so, i'd like to think that at first, you and Ash are quite skeptical towards one another. not being too familiar still.

but that changes over time, of course.

it started by that one, random sunny day; you and Ash accidentally arrived early at the private training grounds where Blanca was supposed to train you both.

the two of you ended up conversing with each other-- Ash being the one who possibly initiates the convo first.

perhaps it started with a compliment. maybe the brand new shoes that you're wearing? the view; weather? or even just random small talks. it's still an effort nonetheless.

you're highly aware of the current reputation he holds as the gang leader of the city. it doesn't faze you much, as long as he remains nice to you.

and because of this, you sometimes do heard about Dino himself. back then, you didn't really pay any mind, but did recall that one time where your father said that he did some sort of a drug business with him etc..

but by the way he is regarded, you feel downright disgusted. selfish, ruthless even. but is well aware not someone to be provoked on.

so despite all of that, you remain well-mannered in a way. for the time being, that is. ( unless something or he crosses the line )

but i can't deny the fact that i imagined that you might be finding yourself doing the side-eye at him while he speaks with others; even having the urge to throw some insults or sarcastic remarks at him. but refrain from doing so just yet.

you hate him so so much because of what he did to Ash too.

overall, you despised people like Dino for existing on the surface of the Earth.

SOME BONUSES ( bc lowkey low on idea rn HAHA ) :-

Shorter seemed like he would probably flirt with you at times, but you just laughed it off because it's like a normal thing now.

but Ash def isn't impressed.

knowing how long you and Ash have been training with each other, he silently grew fond and protective of you, despite you can handle yourself fine. i mean, you did manage a whole restaurant by yourself, after all.

oh and yes, Eiji's a precious boy!! you would 1000000% get along with him! <3

but be careful when hanging out around Eiji every so often; Ash might've steal you away from him. ( totally not jealous at all )

all of them def will hang out on your restaurant often when they're able to! 💛

also, random but i can see Ash is the type of guy to let his arm rest around your shoulders; doesn't matter while you're sitting or even standing. he would still do it out of habit.

i couldn't think of a proper confession or anything further romance related rn, but he will 1000000% take you out for a ride on his bike pretty often, especially during late nights <33

stargazing together?? heck yes!!

sometimes you just wanted to join Ash in whatever mission thingy or stuff he has to do or so; and of course, he would agree, but still deep down worried about your safety in general. ( maybe at some times, he would straight up refuse your offer. )

© 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜.

[greensagephase]

Blanca Navidad (Nonviolent Communication Christmas One-Shot)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x SpiderFemaleReader (colleagues to friends to lovers; currently in the friendship era, so no romance.) Summary: Christmas Eve at Miguel's. Word Count: 11,928 (someone come take my laptop from my hands) Warnings: Mention of injuries and near death experience (from the past). Some Spanish included but translations can be found at the end. Lots of Mexican/Latin food mentioned; you can find some of those items in this reference guide. Short A/N: This is a one-shot for my Nonviolent Communication fanfic but can be read as a standalone. Masterlist Songs inspo: "Last Christmas" - Wham! "Blanca Navidad" - Matisse, Ha*Ash "Noche de Paz" - Reik

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! 🎄

You repeatedly offered to host dinner at your place. It was only fair, you thought, especially after Miguel hosted Thanksgiving at his place but he refused. Each time. The only thing he asked of you was some dessert because apparently he really loves your baking, so that’s what you arrive with to his penthouse on Christmas Eve. It’s 7pm when you step out of the multidimensional portal and into Miguel’s living room. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been here now; how many times you’ve stepped into the space and hung out on his couches and talked with him over café de olla and pan dulce about anything and everything.

You glance at the fireplace as you hold on to your bag with baked desserts. Miguel’s penthouse is warm and cozy, a sharp contrast with the cold and freezing temperatures outside. You take a quick glance behind you to look out the windows. It’s supposed to snow at some point during the night and of course, the children and some adults were all excited about a white Christmas, or at least they seem so this morning when you did your morning patrol across your city. Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear steps, Miguel’s, coming from what you assume is the kitchen and dining area of his penthouse. You turn back and there he is. Once again, he’s wearing his apron since he’s cooking. He looks cozy and comfortable in a grey cable knit sweater, with the sleeves folded neatly up his forearms, and his dark pants. You notice his hair looks damp, which for some reason reminds you of the times you helped him showered so many months ago due to his injuries during a mission. Your free hand curls into a soft fist as you recall how his hair felt. You smile at him as he enters the living room.

“Hey, Merry Christmas Eve!” you greet him softly.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” he repeats with a soft smile as he approaches you. “Here, let me get that for you.”

You don’t decline or refuse his help, even though you don’t need it, when he motions for the bag with baked desserts. You’re learning to accept that Miguel is a gentleman no matter what, so you lift your bag for him to take.

“The food is ready, so we can go ahead and have dinner if you want,” he says with a soft grin, motioning for you to follow him into the kitchen, carrying your bag.

The scent of food engulfs you as you enter the kitchen behind Miguel, making you excited about the food. As you follow Miguel, you notice his Christmas tree is still up. You noticed it earlier this month when you came over for dinner on a Saturday. The sight was a nice surprise that day and even now, as it gives you hope that Miguel feels the holiday spirit this year.

Miguel sets your bag on the counter, careful to avoid messing anything up before he takes a glance at you. He noticed as soon as he saw you wearing a coat, reminding him that you were in Miles’s universe earlier. Mr. and Mrs. Morales invited the whole gang, including Miguel, to their annual Christmas Eve building party but much like last year, Miguel politely declined the invitation. Many things have happened over the year, the most important being Miguel starting his healing journey. He’s taken steps in the right direction, perhaps small ones, but they’re all significant to Miguel. Yet, when he was approached by Miles once again about the Christmas Eve party, he still couldn’t say yes to the invitation.

He’s tried more with the group over the last months but it’s still something he needs to work on. Besides, Miguel could already imagine the questioning of some guests. It would be too much for him. However, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t open to this. To dinner with you for Christmas Eve. He asked you a week later after Thanksgiving about your plans, wanting to plan better than he did for that dinner, especially because he knew you were likely invited to Miles’s building Christmas Eve party again. So, he asked you and you happily agreed to having dinner together. Except when you started talking about what you could cook, Miguel told you he was hosting and he shot down all your attempts, only asking for dessert, if you wanted. You wanted to make it even since he cooked for Thanksgiving but Miguel didn’t want you to stress out about cooking, considering you were invited to Miles’s universe. He didn’t want you to stress out over it or end up missing the party to cook, and besides, Miguel loves cooking and sharing food from his background with you. So, it was better this way for him. Miguel gestures to your coat now, a sign that you were at Miles’s universe a little while ago, if not minutes ago, out in the cold.

“May I?” he asks.

You look at yourself and realize. “Oh, my coat.” You smile at him and nod before he walks around you and helps you out of it. You thank him as he hangs your coat over a chair gently. “Oh, the Morales wish you a Merry Christmas and they sent food.”

Miguel nods, smiling softly as he watches you begin to unpack your bag. You set out the plates the Morales’s prepared, reminding you of last year when they sent you to drop off food for Miguel because they didn’t want him to spend Christmas Eve on his own.

“The fried plantains are to die for,” you tell him as you set down what you baked.

“I can imagine. Last year’s were great,” Miguel says quietly, remembering last Christmas Eve and feeling in awe that a whole year has passed already. Everything was so different then, he thinks. Last year, you were only supposed to drop the food off but you ended up staying until midnight. This year, however, you left the party early to join him for dinner. This year it was planned for you to come. Miguel smiles to himself. So much has changed. He clears his throat softly. “I will certainly eat some of that in a bit, especially the fried plantains. Do you want to have dinner now?” he asks. “Or, maybe you ate at the party and you’re not too hungry yet.”

“I’d love to have dinner. I didn’t eat much so I could save some space for dinner. I’m not missing out on anything,” you say with a soft chuckle that makes Miguel grin since he knows you like his cooking, something that pleases him a lot.

“Great, then we can start. I made some tinga since I know you love it,” he says as he gets into full host mode. “Go ahead and take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” Miguel walks around his kitchen island to the stove where he has multiple pots and pans of food, and possibly drinks like last year. “We can have it with burritos or with tostadas, whichever you like. There’s also…” Miguel continues, listing everything he has cooked, once again surprising you with his wide menu.

You listen intently, with a smile, as Miguel tells you about the pozole.

“I couldn’t decide, so I made a bit of both red and green. I think last year I made green, so hopefully you like the red one.”

You tell him you’re sure you will, considering everything he cooks is amazing. He goes on to tell you about the tamales and how he made different ones this year, too.

“There’s some with rajas de chile poblano and queso fresco. These are really good. And then, there’s the sweet ones. These were my favorite growing up,” Miguel tells you as he shows you small, pink tamales with dark spots here and there that indicate small bits from cinnamon sticks to sweeten the dough.

“Those would go very well with café de olla,” you tell him, which makes him grin.

“I thought you’d think so,” he replies before he taps a pot’s lid. “Café de olla right here.”

You grin back.

“Then, there’s some ponche and I made champurrado. I think - you might like it,” he says.

“If possible, I’m trying everything,” you tell him with a soft smile, which makes Miguel smile back.

“Well, no pressure but please feel welcome to. I hope you like it,” he says turning fully around to face you. “I forgot, there’s also buñuelos. So… what would you like to have first?” he asks, having a feeling that he knows what you’re going to go first for.

You stare at Miguel, knowing exactly what you’d like to eat first. “Maybe it’s surprising or not too surprising, but may I please have some burritos de tinga?”

Miguel chuckles. “Ya lo sabia. I had a feeling that was going to be your choice.”

You shrug with a little smile. “You tell me there’s burritos de tinga, I’m gonna go for that. It’s your fault I love them so much.”

Miguel shakes his head at you, amused. He grabs the flour tortillas from one of his counters and sets a pan to heat them up. “I’m glad you like them so much,” he says, truly meaning it. He’s cooked this dish for you a few times over the months ever since the two of you started to have dinner together every Saturday when it’s his turn to host. You tried it last Christmas Eve after he asked if you wanted to join him for dinner right on the spot when you dropped off the food the Morales family sent him. Come to think of it, Miguel realizes that was the very first time he ever invited you for dinner.

He had no plans to cook or to even be home. He had the opportunity to spend one Christmas with Gabriella and it was the first time he had celebrated in years after Gabriel’s death. After everything that happened with Gabriella and her universe and the events surrounding Miles, the last thing Miguel wanted to do was celebrate. He thought he’d spend the day at HQ like any other day, even if the building was vacant since everyone was off for the holidays. He tries to remember now, what was it that made him leave HQ and gave him the motivation to cook a bit of everything? He reasons now that it was probably nostalgia from those childhood days.

The holidays were always decent in the O’Hara household since those were rare days when his parents weren’t arguing or acting up. Those were also days in which Conchata treated him like a mother should. She spoiled Gabriel and him with sweet food like Mexican hot chocolate, buñuelos, and sweet tamales; even letting them add the food coloring to make the tamales colorful. Perhaps, it was those memories that made Miguel leave HQ last year. Either way, he hadn’t expected to be home. He had no decorations up, nor expected anyone but then there was Lyla, popping out of nowhere as he was finishing showering, while the last of the food was cooking, to tell him that you were looking for him because you had food from the Morales family. Before he knew it, he was inviting you to join him for dinner and you did, and Miguel enjoyed it.

“Do you want agua de Jamaica?” he asks, pausing his thoughts for now.

“Yes, I’d love some. I can get that for us, while you look after the tortillas,” you offer, standing up even though Miguel shakes his head. “I know you’re the host but you don’t have to do everything. You already cooked - I imagine for hours. Please, it’s the least I can do,” you tell him and he begrudgingly nods.

“Alright, if you wish to,” he says, which makes you smile as you reach for glasses from his cupboards since you know your way around his kitchen all too well, much like he knows his way around yours. You notice his pouting as he flips the tortillas, with bare hands as always, and hold back from chuckling. You walk to his fridge to retrieve the pitcher with agua de Jamaica, finding it endearing that Miguel insists on doing everything when he hosts. He tries to help even on the weekends when it’s your turn, always offering his help one way or another, and of course, you always decline but that doesn’t stop him from offering his help anyway.

You set the glasses and pitcher on the counter and walk towards him, standing a few feet away to give him space.

“May I help with something else?”

He shakes his head, meeting your gaze. “You’re my guest, Y/N. Please go ahead and take a seat. I’ll have your burritos ready in a minute or two.”

Your shoulders slump dramatically. “Really?”

Miguel’s eyebrow raises gently. “Really.”

You hum in response and walk away, defeated. With a sigh, you take a seat and now you pout but it’s quickly replaced with a grin when Lyla appears before you.

“Merry Christmas Eve, Y/N!” she says throwing her arms in the air in a cheery tone, making her santa hat move around dramatically.

“Merry Christmas Eve, Lyla.”

“I see you’ve been prohibited from the kitchen.”

You chuckle softly.

“I heard that, Lyla,” Miguel says, looking over his shoulder with a glare that Lyla dismisses.

“Merry Christmas Eve to you, too, boss,” she retorts with a roll of her eyes. “How about some music? Something for the Christmas spirit? I prepared a playlist just for this.”

“Oh, really? You have the classics, I assume,” you tell her.

“Definitely. Some are Miguel’s favorites. Or used to. I don’t know. It has some of my favorites for sure.”

“Like…?” you ask.

“You know…” Lyla shrugs. “Like ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham!”

“Oh, a classic,” you reply with a smile, approving.

“I knew you’d understand me. Let’s put it on,” she says and of course, the music immediately fills the air thanks to Miguel’s amazing sound system.

You nod in appreciation. “Nice choice, Lyla.”

“Thank you! It feels good to be appreciated for my music taste. Some people don’t like it.”

“That’s because you blast it at full volume with no warning,” Miguel replies grumpily, as he reaches the counter with two plates with food.

Lyla shrugs again. “It doesn’t sound too loud to me.”

“The burritos are ready, Y/N. Let me get the toppings,” Miguel says, deciding to ignore Lyla.

“Thank you,” you reply softly as he places the plate in front of you.

“Always,” he answers as he serves agua de Jamaica for the two of you.

“Ooh, should we see Miguel’s official holiday card? I look good in it,” Lyla says immediately displaying the holiday card every Spider Society member received before either you or Miguel can even respond.

Miguel groans quietly as he takes a seat. “Lyla, put that away.”

“I’m just showing Y/N. Look at my outfit. I look good in the card,” she replies with a grin.

You chuckle quietly as you stare at it, remembering Miguel’s mood since you were there. He didn’t want his picture to be taken but Jess, Peter B., and Lyla said he had to as he’s the leader and founder of the Spider Society. Despite Miguel’s protests, Peter B. and Mayday somehow managed to slip on a santa hat to his head, catching Miguel by surprise. He glared at Peter B., who was next to Jess in a flash, urging her to take the photo before Miguel took it off, and of course, Jess was quick to snap a photo. Now, everyone has a holiday card with Miguel glaring at the camera in his full suit with a santa hat while Lyla floats above his head, happy as can be.

“And there’s this one, too. Come to think of it, we should’ve used this one,” Lyla says, displaying a photo of Miguel, still wearing the santa hat but showing his face now, and you standing nearby showing him your progress on the society’s weekly reports. You notice the difference on Miguel. His glare from the official holiday card is replaced with a relaxed face and a small smile directed at you.

Miguel stares at it, noticing the difference, too, which makes his cheeks feel slightly hot, or maybe it’s just the heat from the food and the stove, he doesn’t know.

“Aww, I’ll let you two have dinner now, Merry Christmas Eve!” Lyla says with a smirk before she disappears, leaving Miguel and you alone with the Christmas music still playing in the background.

You grin softly and shake your head. “She really does get in a mood with the holidays,” you say as you add toppings to your plate.

“She does. She’s already too much sometimes and with the holidays…” Miguel scoffs in disbelief yet also in a playful way. “Even more but anyway - how was the party?” he asks softly as you pass him the toppings.

“It was great. There was more of Miles’s family this year, so we had to keep introducing ourselves to them. I think some of them thought it was weird Miles invited his school mentor,” you say with a grin. “That’s me.”

Miguel chuckles. “You’re the school mentor - I can see that.”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling and thinking. “Who would you be?”

Miguel turns to you, thinking. “I don’t know.”

“Hm… we’ll have to think about that,” you reply before you take a drink of agua de Jamaica.

Miguel grins, thinking that if he had gone to the party, he would’ve simply said that he was the school mentor’s close friend but saying that would mean stating out loud that you’re his friend. Despite the months, and the healing Miguel has done this year, his fear that something will happen to you still exists inside of him. He doesn’t want to jinx losing you - his close friend - by saying it out loud, directly. He’s alluded to it so many times in different ways to tell you how he feels. You’re his close friend. Yet, he hasn’t said those words specifically. Not yet anyway, but Miguel is certain one day, he will. Could it be next year? Or the following one? Miguel doesn’t know but he knows he will one day. For now, he says and acts on it however he can, whenever he can, in his own way.

“This is - as always - amazing,” you say with a soft sigh after having the first bite of a burrito. “I can never tire of this.”

Miguel smiles, amused yet happy with your reaction. He doesn’t know why, but it always pleases him to see how much you enjoy his cooking. He loves seeing that delighted look on your face when you eat what he cooks.

The two of you move through the other food, trying all the tamales, minus the sweet ones because you decided to save those for the dessert part. Miguel is once again, pleased when he sees you love the tamales with rajas and queso fresco. Pozole is last, and of course, you try the other kind he made.

“Which one is your favorite?” you ask him. “Red or green?”

Miguel thinks about it for a few seconds as he gently wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I think - green. What about yours?”

“I think green is my favorite, too.”

You grin at each other before you continue eating from your bowls. All the while, the two of you talk about the last few days and how everyone at HQ was excited for the holidays. Even members with few or no family, like yourself and Miguel, had plans with other members. The two of you talk about that, and how wonderful it is that the Spider Society has led to friendships so deep they feel like family. The two of you leave it at that, not wanting to dampen the mood with sadness of loved ones long gone though both of you think about your deceased loved ones anyway.

At last, Miguel brings a plate stacked with sweet, pink tamales. He sets it on the counter so the two of you can just grab from it instead of having to walk back and forth. He also brings along a plate with buñuelos, and of course, there’s the desserts you brought along, too.

“You want ponche, champurrado, or café de olla?” Miguel asks.

“I think - I’m going to leave the café de olla for last, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. So, ponche or champurrado… Or both?” he asks, a little amused. Noting your indecisiveness, Miguel adds, “I’m grabbing both.”

You grin. “Both for me, too, then. May I help you?”

“No,” Miguel says softly, shaking his head at you before he turns around to prep everything. “Thank you but no. You’re my guest.”

You sigh, knowing there’s no arguing. “Just let me know if I can help. I don’t mind, Miguel.”

“I know you don’t,” he replies softly with a smile as he grabs the mugs. “But please - let me do this.” He turns around, holding two mugs in each hand perfectly. He doesn’t need to say anything else for you know what he’s saying. He’s trying to move forward. He’s trying to show you his appreciation and caring for you. He’s trying to express what you mean to him in his own ways, even if it’s just him merely serving you food or a drink and taking it to you. He’s trying in his own way until he can say it out loud.

You nod and smile softly.

Satisfied with your reaction, Miguel turns around and proceeds to serve the drinks. You grin as upbeat holiday music continues to play. It seems that Lyla’s playlist is quite long and diverse since you recognize Mexican Christmas music. You listen intently to it, while Miguel fixes the drinks until he approaches the kitchen island with your two mugs. He places them carefully in front of you before he retrieves his, joining your side once again. You can’t help but think about how the two of you have sat in these same chairs ever since… exactly a year ago, almost as if you have unassigned assigned seats. You smile as you come to this realization, finding it endearing in a way but also realizing just how much has changed in a year.

One year ago, you were in Miles’s universe when Mr. and Mrs. Morales approached you, asking if you could take food to Miguel and stay with him while he ate so he wouldn’t be alone on Christmas Eve. You agreed because the Morales family has taken you in as part of their family, inviting you over to dinner and their gatherings but also because you had thought about the same thing. You didn’t like the idea of Miguel alone over the holidays even though your friendship was barely beginning. You had shared some moments with each other at that point like your celebration of Peter’s birthday and Miguel letting you see his ofrenda on Dia de Los Muertos. Miguel was barely beginning to open up and you knew it was too soon to ask him anything about the holidays but then, there were Miles’s parents, asking you for this favor. And you couldn’t say no.

You look over at Miguel as he brings one of the mugs to his mouth, blowing softly on it to cool off. You smile and grab one of your own, opting for the ponche first as you continue to remember last year. You were so nervous about it even though you agreed to it and wished that Miguel hadn’t spent the entire day alone. You guessed he was going to be at HQ like always, since you knew that he worked around the clock but to your surprise, he was here at home. You almost chuckle to yourself as you now remember standing in a dark and empty alleyway in Miles’s universe talking to Lyla, asking her about Miguel’s location to meet and give him the food. It was how you learned he was here. You remember Lyla giving you a hard time back then when you asked her if she could ask Miguel to meet you at HQ since he was home. You didn’t know where he lived back then and besides, you didn’t want to intrude on Miguel’s privacy nor make Miguel feel like you wanted to know where he lived but Lyla, who for some reason was busy at the time, told you she’d ask if you could simply come over, telling you that she’d give you the coordinates if Miguel agreed.

Then, you swear it took less than thirty seconds before the coordinates were on your gizmo, ready for you to travel directly to Miguel’s home, and that’s how you first entered his home a year ago, with plates of food in your hands, and party favors and cans of soda in your coat’s pockets, feeling cold from being outside to suddenly surrounded by warmth from Miguel’s penthouse. And of course, there was Miguel suddenly, standing in his universe’s fashion instead of the suit like he used to back then. It was the first time you ever saw him out of the suit. Now, the sight of him in normal attire is a familiar one. A lot has really changed since that night a year ago.

You turn to Miguel’s holographic Christmas tree, smiling. Last year he didn't have one when you arrived but he showed it to you afterward and told you all about them and how people in Nueva York design holographic ornaments as a tradition, though traditional trees are still a thing in some homes when they can be afforded. Miguel even showed you how to design ornaments before he had you design one.

“You want to look at it?” Miguel asks, noticing your gaze on it.

You turn to meet his gaze, still smiling and nod. “Sure.”

He nods with a soft grin and stands up, thinking to himself about how he actually put his tree up earlier this month. Last year he had no plans nor did he feel the festivities to put up his tree until Christmas Eve when you got here.

The two of you walk over to it, holding your mugs in hand before you stop in front of it.

You admire the tree, still in awe even a year later with the difference. In your universe, traditional Christmas trees are still the norm. Smiling, your eyes catch certain ornaments you didn’t see the previous year. You tell yourself you probably just missed them but you’re certain you would’ve remember seeing the ornaments with Conchata and Gabriel’s names along with the year they were designed on them. You silently conclude you wouldn’t have missed them, considering they would’ve caught your attention. Your eyes stop on one of Gabriel’s. You smile warmly at it, seeing the year it was made, 2084.

“Gabriel,” you say softly, tenderly, as if you knew him, though you never did nor will.

Miguel turns to look at you, smiling softly as he detects that tenderness in your voice while saying his younger brother’s name. It makes him feel warm and appreciation towards you even more, while also making him wish once again that you could’ve met Gabriel. He’s thought about it in the past a lot. He believes that Gabriel and you would’ve been good friends, too. He turns to look at the ornament, taking a drink from his mug. He wishes you could’ve met not only Gabriel but also Gabriella because he knows she would’ve loved you just like Gabriel.

Miguel consoles himself with the fact that you’ve at least met them in his dreams as he often sees them there. After what happened with Gabriella’s universe, Miguel’s dreams were plagued by nightmares, leading him to avoid sleep and only sleeping when his body was at the verge of exhaustion for months. He still has nightmares sometimes but his dreams are far more pleasant these days thanks to you. Ever since the spring after his near death experience, when he discovered that your scent and the sound of your breathing while you sleep help him, he has been sleeping better and with less nightmares.

Now, he dreams of Gabriella and Gabriel often. Conchata and his late wife sometimes make appearances, though not as often as the first two. Not as often as you now. You started showing up in his dreams two months after his near death experience and ever since then, you’ve become a regular. It’s how he consoles himself when he wishes you could’ve met two of the most important people in his life, Gabriella and Gabriel. You engage with them in his dreams and they both love you, which only fuels his belief that they would’ve loved you in life, too.

Miguel smiles softly as he thinks of them. There’s some heartache, and he knows there will always be. However, for the first time in years, Miguel doesn’t feel overwhelmed by his heartache like he used to. He doesn’t feel like that because he’s not alone. He looks over at you, noticing the awe in your eyes as you continue to take in the Christmas tree and how your eyes linger on something specific.

You’ve been admiring the ornaments, silently reading the different years of the ornaments and even finding some of Miguel’s from previous years when your eyes land on one specific ornament.

Yours.

You stare at it. You weren’t expecting to see it and if you were honest, you thought Miguel had probably erased your file or simply omitted it from the final copy last year but no, it’s on the tree. You wonder if he simply missed it and that’s why it’s on here as a simple mistake. You look around it, your eyes also finding the one Miguel made last year when he was showing you how the design program worked. It’s next to yours much like it was last year. You stare at the two ornaments until a screen, a tablet, meets your vision. You blink.

“Want to give it another go?” Miguel asks with a soft grin, offering you a tablet.

You smile and accept it, recognizing the ornament design program from last year. You look over at him, finding him smiling softly as he holds his mug and another tablet. You silently wonder where he retrieved the two tablets from since he hasn’t left your side. You glance at the dining table, questioning if they were there all along and whether Miguel planned for this.

“Sure, why not? I think I can do better this year,” you reply, still smiling.

“You did pretty great last year,” Miguel says reassuringly before he gestures to the dining table.

The two of you sit down, next to each other. The mugs are placed on the table before the designing of ornaments begins. The two of you design your ornaments, falling into a comforting and peaceful silence though soft Christmas music still plays in the background. It’s not until five or so minutes that the silence is disrupted.

“Aww, you’re designing ornaments! How cute,” Lyla says appearing between the two of you and taking a glance at each tablet. “No offense Miguel but Y/N is doing so much better than you.”

“Thanks, Lyla,” Miguel replies, not even looking up at her as he continues to design.

You smile and decide not to say anything.

“I’m just saying, it looks like Y/N has had more years of experience doing this than you. And this is your universe…” Lyla says.

“You’re so encouraging,” Miguel answers.

Lyla shrugs. “I try my best.”

You shake your head at Lyla and continue to work on your ornaments for a few more minutes until the two of you are done. You show each other your screens and smile as you see that you’ve both stuck to Miguel's Christmas tree theme colors and added the current year in Nueva York.

“You added more detail,” Miguel notes as he looks at yours, feeling happy that you even added the year underneath your name just like he did. “Are you ready to upload it?”

You nod and so, Miguel uploads both his and your ornament, saving it to the program. You both get up to add the ornaments through the tablet to see where the program places them since it’s supposedly done randomly, making it a bit of a fun game.

Miguel uploads his first, showing up somewhere around the top before you add yours. You both search for it and find it at last, placed just below his new one.

“That was fun. Thank you, Miguel,” you gently say, breaking the silence.

“It's no traditional tree but…” he says, looking at the ornaments.

“It's wonderful,” you finish with a smile, looking at the tree yourself.

Your response tears Miguel's gaze from the ornaments to you, his red eyes taking you in. He silently gives thanks for you, something he has found himself doing more as the months have gone by. He's quick to remember now the gifts he got you but a part of him is still going back and forth on it. What if you don't like them? Or worse, what if you find it odd that he’s giving you gifts? He turns his gaze away from you to look behind the Christmas tree. He placed the gift bag there earlier behind the tree, where he knows it’s not visible, just in case he brings himself to do it at some point during the night. He sighs softly, reassuring himself he still has time, and besides, he also has tomorrow to give it to you since he plans on inviting you for the recalentado.

The two of you stand there for a little while longer, admiring the Christmas tree, silently thinking about how much has changed in a year, and deciding that you wouldn’t change anything about it.

After a little while later, Miguel checks the time.

“The Christmas show will start soon,” he quietly says.

You turn, remembering. You thought about it earlier this month but it seemed to have escaped your mind today as it’s been a busy day. You visited your parents, Aunt May, and Peter’s graves earlier this morning to change their flowers since it’s Sunday. Then, there was your morning patrol because even on the holidays, you like to check up on your city, just in case. And of course, there was the party at Miles’s universe where you and your friends did a gift exchange just like the previous year.

“How long till it starts?” you ask.

“About fifteen minutes,” Miguel replies with a smile. “Plenty of time to drink the champurrado.”

You grin and nod, turning to walk back to the kitchen island. You take one last glance at the tree, your eyes finding your ornaments. You briefly think about how there’s now two ornaments with your name on them on Miguel’s tree. The sight spreads a warmth through your chest for you never imagined this. You turn away and follow Miguel to the kitchen island for the other drink.

He offers the buñuelos and more sweet tamales, which you happily accept. You eat and talk in the privacy of Miguel’s home with a holographic countdown in display, counting down the minutes until the holographic Christmas show starts.

“It’s supposed to snow again,” Miguel says as he turns his body sideways on the chair, facing you completely now.

“We’re supposed to get snow, too. All the kids and some adults were excited about it this morning when I was on morning patrol,” you say with a chuckle that makes Miguel grin.

You turn slightly, facing Miguel more with your body but still making sure to give Miguel space. Over the last few months you’ve brushed hands, arms, and legs here and there. It has been accidental, as you’re always trying to make sure to respect Miguel’s boundaries regarding physical contact. Ever since losing Gabriella in his arms, Miguel finds physical touch hard but you’ve noticed the way he has slowly opened up to it. It’s not much compared to how open you are to it with your friends like a hug or a pat on the shoulder. Miguel is not there yet but you’ve noticed the brushing of his fingers against yours when you hand him items has become more intentional than accidental on his end over the last few months, which makes you happy that he’s starting to feel more comfortable with it.

Then, there’s been the slight squeeze of his pinky around yours. It’s happened three times so far, and it’s been on times when the two of you have shared something personal. The first time Miguel did it was after he shared with you his childhood and Spider-Man origins. The second time was on Peter’s birthday this year when you invited Miguel again for your small celebration in his honor. There were a few tears on your end, for you couldn’t help but feel sentimental. You guess Miguel did it to comfort you in a small way, not realizing that his presence alone was more than comforting to you. The third and last time was over a month ago on Dia de Los Muertos, when he invited you to see his ofrenda for the second time.

Except this year, he invited you earlier in the evening while he cooked all his loved ones’ food and prepared the decorations, even inviting you to help him cut the colorful tissue paper into the beautiful and intricate designs to adorn his offering. He even made extra this year of everything so the two of you could eat and by midnight when the ofrenda was completed and lit up by flickering candles that cast shadows over the marigolds, you could tell Miguel was sentimental as his eyes scanned the four photos. His mother, his wife, Gabriel, and Gabriella.

You thought he was sad, naturally, but he was sentimental because he was recalling a dream - or was it a vision - Miguel still goes back and forth on this. It was the dream he had while he passed away for a few minutes back in the spring. He saw his wife, Gabriel, Gabriella, and even his counterpart, who gave him closure on his guilt for stepping up as Gabriella’s father after his passing. He thought about the dream that night on Dia de Los Muertos, as the two of you knelt in front of his ofrenda for the second time, and remembered Gabriella’s sweet words, thanking Miguel for all her favorite food and the toys he offered the previous year. He also remembered his loved ones’ assurances that they were always with him. He grew sentimental that night, wondering if they were there at that moment, with him and you.

You wanted to comfort him like so many times before but you knew and continue to know that Miguel is still not fully ready for such physical touch. He noticed it, like so many other times, and decided to let you in his own, small way; by squeezing your pinky with his own when he handed you a mug with café de olla. That was the third, and you’re certain it will be, the last time of this year.

It’s small but you’re very happy for Miguel. You’re immensely thankful that he has allowed you into his life and that he trusts you. You smile at him as you continue to face him.

“I can imagine the excitement. You can’t beat una blanca navidad,” he says turning to the windows, wondering if he’ll still be awake by the time it’s supposed to start snowing.

“That’s true,” you reply as you turn to the windows yourself.

“Three minutes,” Miguel says looking at the countdown. “Should we save the café de olla for after the show?”

“If you want to,” you reply softly, looking at your current mug. “I still have a little champurrado left.”

Miguel nods. “Me, too. Café de olla for after then.”

You grin at him before you stand up, fixing your top and feeling excitement. Last year you got to watch the Christmas show and it was amazing as it was all holographic and playing in front of Miguel’s building. You recall the Santa Claus even waved at you as he rode past in his sleigh.

Miguel and you head to the windows, mugs in hand. You lean sideways on the window just like he does, facing each other as you await. At last, the Christmas holographic show begins with a large and bright yellow star.

“It’s starting,” you whisper softly, eyes wide in fascination.

Miguel’s eyes flicker to you subtly, gently smiling at your reaction before he returns his gaze to the show.

The star begins to spin, rapidly, sending sparks flying through the air. The star spins so fast, it begins to look more like a yellow portal. Suddenly, holographic reindeer gallop out into the night sky before Santa’s sleigh and Santa himself fly out of the portal, pulled by the reindeer. He waves his arm around before pulling holographic gifts from his sack of gifts to show them off, even pointing at the windows and gesturing to the gifts as if saying “this is for you.”

You grin softly, loving every second of this but then it gets better because snowmen step, or rather glide out of the still spinning star/portal, waving hello before they start a dance performance that sends holographic snowflakes flying through the sky. You chuckle softly as the snowmen continue to dance while Santa and his reindeer fly above them. Miguel chuckles quietly as well, enjoying the show and briefly recalling previous years when he would stand next to little Gabriel to watch the show together when they were just kids. Gabriel’s favorite part was always when Santa made his appearance.

“¡Miguel, mira, mira! It’s Santa!” Gabriel would exclaim excitedly each year, waving his small hand through the glass window, hoping to catch the holographic Santa’s attention.

Miguel would nod, smiling and feeling the excitement himself but he showed it in a more reserved way, which always led Gabriel to grab Miguel’s top from the hem.

“Miguel, wave to Santa! He’ll notice the two of us! Miguel!” Gabriel used to say, pouting.

“Okay, okay,” Miguel would reply before waving, unable to refuse his brother’s demands.

Miguel sighs softly at the memories of his little brother now. He always thought he’d be the first to pass away, being the oldest, but life had other plans for Gabriel. Still, Miguel silently hopes that Gabriel gets to watch the show from wherever he is.

His thoughts fade away as a new thing happens, catching both his and your attention. A neon red string comes out of the yellow spinning star and attaches to Santa’s sleigh. Your eyebrow raises as the color is familiar and sure enough, it is. Spider-Man 2099, as a hologram, swings out of the portal and pulls himself onto Santa’s sleigh at the back. You gasp softly in both surprise and delight, turning to look at Miguel briefly to see his reaction. He looks just as surprised. Your eyes return to him, or his hologram version, as he begins to wave towards the windows, wearing a santa hat.

The two of you, and the rest of Nueva York, watch the interaction between Santa and Spider-Man 2099 as the man in all red offers the other one a plate with cookies. The superhero accepts one and nods back at Santa in gratitude before they begin to fly around, closer to the windows now. You’re smiling the entire time, finding it endearing that the city included Miguel this year in the holographic Christmas show.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Miguel says next to you with a grin.

You look up at him, smiling. “It was a nice surprise. I bet all your supporters are delighted.”

Miguel hums in response and looks at you with his little grin. “I hope so.”

“I’m sure they are! I’m not even from this dimension and I’m delighted by it,” you reply turning back to look at the windows just in time as Santa’s sleigh flies by Miguel’s windows.

You cover your mouth in delight as Santa waves at the two of you with Spider-Man 2099 just behind him on the sleigh. You can’t help yourself so you wave back at Santa and then at Spider-Man 2099 when Santa moves his sleigh further ahead so the superhero can face both Miguel and you. He gives Miguel a nod, which you find amusing considering the irony before the hologram turns to you. He leans closer and offers a high-five, which you reciprocate with a soft laugh as you’ve never seen Miguel do such a thing. Just as you put your hand down, the hologram gives you a wink.

“Oh,” you say simply, amused but surprised before both Santa and Spider-Man 2099 wave goodbye and fly lower to other floors. You steal a glance at Miguel and notice his eyes on the still dancing snowmen. There’s a soft blush covering his cheeks as he leans his entire body on the window sideways with his free hand in his pocket since the two of you have placed your mugs on the window’s ledge. Is he avoiding your gaze? You turn back to the show with a small smile.

Miguel stares at the snowmen, they’re still dancing and sending holographic snowflakes into the air. His face feels hot and he’s sure it shows. He wasn’t expecting to be part of the show this year, even though he’s been added to it before but what was more surprising was the hologram’s behavior. He smiles and shakes his head to himself as he looks at you. Your attention is back to the show. He hasn’t even offered a high-five to you - or anyone - since Gabriella, so he finds it amusing that the hologram beat him to it. The winking on the other hand… Makes his cheeks flush and wonder what were the odds that the hologram winked at you specifically. He sighs silently and returns his attention back to the show, thinking that his small embarrassment was worth it, considering you found the interaction amusing and it made you happy. He decides he can handle some light embarrassment if that’s the outcome, your happiness.

The show concludes with Santa and Spider-Man 2099 making one last round across the sky, snowmen dancing with snowflakes falling. They wave goodbye as they fly around before they head straight for the yellow portal, disappearing into it with a bright glow. The snowmen follow, waving goodbye, still dancing in a line as they enter the spinning star. At last there’s nothing left except for the spinning star which begins to slow down until it stops completely. It blinks in and out. Once, twice, thrice… before it explodes into tiny yellow flickers of light that begin to form words, spelling out “¡Feliz Navidad, Nueva York!”

You smile fondly as the show concludes. “That was awesome,” you say softly.

Miguel scoffs playfully. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You nod and retrieve your mug, finishing up your drink.

“And this was really good, too. I can’t decide which one I like more. Champurrado or ponche,” you say, raising an eyebrow as you ponder this.

Miguel chuckles softly. “It’s a hard choice… Now add café de olla to the mix.”

“I’m choosing café de olla.”

Miguel blinks at how fast you responded, then chuckles again. “I’m taking that as a cue from you.”

You laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that but if you’re still offering, I’m not declining,” you say with a little shrug, which amuses Miguel.

He gestures back to the kitchen. “It’s amazing with sweet tamales.”

And that’s all it takes for the two of you to find yourselves back in the kitchen island with different mugs now holding café de olla. Since he recalled all those previous years, Miguel finds himself sharing those days, telling you all about Gabriel and how excited he was each year. You smile as he shares those fond memories, making you wish you could’ve met the younger O’Hara brother with the cheeky smile.

It’s past midnight when you look around the kitchen, noticing the pans and pots. The two of you have been sitting here just talking and drinking coffee but you realize you should probably head home soon.

“May I help you clean up?” you ask Miguel.

And of course, he immediately shakes his head. “Thank you but don’t worry about it. I got it.”

You frown softly. “I don’t mind. That way it’s done quicker and you can rest sooner. You must be tired after cooking all on your own.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it, Y/N,” he replies gently but you shake your head.

“Please. It’s the least I can do. We’ll tackle it quicker together. C’mon,” you say, standing up.

“Y/N,” Miguel replies, almost grumpily because the last thing he wants is for you to be doing any cleaning when you’re his guest but you’re already around the kitchen island, facing him.

“Does it matter what containers I use?” you ask him.

Miguel stares at you, wishing he could glare at you for insisting on doing this but he finds himself unable to. All he does is pout and shake his head before he stands up, giving up and accepting your help. Midway through the cleaning he decides it’s a good thing anyway, since it means that you’re spending more time with him here at his penthouse. It also gives him more time to build the courage and give you your Christmas gift. After some time, the kitchen is spotless and the food has been stored away. You neatly fold a towel over the counter before walking back to the chairs. It’s about 12:30 am, Christmas Day. You know it’s time to head home now as you want Miguel to rest, and you could use some sleep yourself. You reach for your coat, swinging it over your arm, thinking about something.

“I should head home now. It’s pretty late and you must be tired,” you say, looking at Miguel just as he walks around the kitchen island to meet you.

He leans on the counter with one hand. “I’m not too tired, don’t worry,” he says with a small grin. Miguel’s definitely a bit tired but he’ll gladly stay up later if it means you’ll stay a bit longer.

“You should still get some rest,” you reply with a small. “Thank you so much for dinner. As always, I loved everything.”

Miguel nods slowly. “Always. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You hum in response, smiling. You nod, ready to wish him a Merry Christmas before heading out but he straightens up.

“Before you go…” Miguel starts, trailing off. He looks at the tree, gaining that courage at last. “Here.”

He walks to the tree and retrieves a holiday gift bag from behind it. Your eyebrows raise in surprise and for some strange reason, your heart speeds up. Did Miguel get you a gift?

Miguel walks back to you, standing just a few feet away before he hands it to you. He feels his own heart race as he watches you carefully accept the bag, with your eyes filled with surprise.

“Oh… Miguel. You didn’t have to, really,” you say so softly as you stare at the bag. “But… thank you. Thank you, Miguel,” you say with a warm smile before you remember what you were thinking about just a minute ago. “Wait, can you give me like five minutes? I need to go home. I’ll be right back, I promise,” you say as you gently place his gift bag on the counter. “I’ll be right back, is that okay with you?”

Miguel nods, wondering why you need to go home, though a part of him suspects the reason. “Yes, that’s okay. I’ll wait here.”

You nod eagerly, smiling as you begin to walk backwards, heading to the living room. “I’ll be right back!”

You head to the living room, quickly opening a portal as you do so. You return to your dimension and in less than five minutes you’re back in Nueva York. You walk back into the kitchen and dining area of Miguel’s penthouse with a large box wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper and an equally tall gift bag. You find Miguel exactly where he stayed when you left and upon seeing the box and bag, his eyebrows raise gently, surprised. You approach him slowly.

“I was debating… giving it to you,” you start gently. “I didn’t know if you’d find the gesture - as too much - and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I hope it doesn’t,” you finish softly as you offer him the box. “I hope you like it, Miguel,” you add sheepishly because you thought about it for days. What could you gift to someone who had the money to buy it himself if he didn’t have it already? What was something that you could give him that would be meaningful? You had to sit down and brainstorm.

Miguel takes the box from you because he doesn’t want you to keep holding such a large box on top of a gift bag on your own, even if you’re Spider-Woman and you can certainly carry more than that.

“You didn’t have to,” Miguel says softly as he feels the weight. “Thank you, Y/N,” he says looking up at you, taken aback. He wasn’t thinking about receiving gifts nor did he buy anything for himself as he’s not really about receiving gifts, at least not since he was a kid.

You nod and smile. “Always. And here’s the gift bag, too.”

Miguel places the box on the kitchen island and accepts the bag. “Are you sure?” he asks, raising his eyebrows again. “Whatever is in the box, I think that’s - I hope you didn’t waste too much money,” he says, nervously.

“Don’t worry about that, please. You don’t have to open it now if you don’t want to, by the way,” you reply, thinking now that he may find it more comfortable to open it without you around.

“No, that would be rude. I’ll open it now. If you open yours,” Miguel says, meeting your gaze.

You chuckle and nod. “I’ll open it here with you then.”

“You first,” he replies, holding the gift bag you’ve given him.

You don’t argue and nod, trying to make this a pleasant moment for Miguel. You pick up the gift bag he gave you and open it, before gently pulling out decorative tissue paper. You look inside and realize there’s multiple gifts, all individually wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper. You look up at Miguel and grin softly, shaking your head at him because you’ve done something similar.

“You didn’t have to get me so many things.”

Miguel shrugs, smiling softly. “I could tell you the same thing.”

You laugh and pull out the first item. It’s a box that you carefully unwrap, revealing a white box. You open it, finding the item surrounded in tissue paper. At last, you pull it to the side and find a sweatshirt. You pull it out of the box with a smile, spreading it open to see the design on the front. It has Nueva York’s skyline printed on it and the sweatshirt is in one of your favorite colors.

“I thought since you really like sweatshirts…” Miguel says, hoping you like it.

“I love sweatshirts and I love this one! It’s so cute, thank you!” you happily tell him as you pull it towards your chest. “Seriously, I love this so much! Thank you, Miguel,” you add much softly.

Miguel grins, relieved because he can see your genuine reaction. It only makes him more excited to see you open the rest.

“Go ahead and open the others,” he says gently.

You nod happily and continue, pulling out another box but this one is heavier. After carefully unwrapping it, you’re holding a brand new tablet from this dimension.

Miguel walks closer to you, hoping you like it. “I found a way to make sure it’ll work in your dimension, much like the gizmos and other devices we use for the society. You’ll have access to any dimension’s internet, if it has internet, of course. I… I always see how much you seem to enjoy working with the tablets here and I thought you’d like your own for your personal use,” Miguel starts, sounding excited as he tells you more about it and all the features you’ll have access to.

You smile and eagerly nod, happy to see Miguel so excited as he tells you about it. You can only look at him in awe as he thought about everything and any potential issues you may have, even thinking about a protective screen and case.

“I can tell you more about it later, there’s a few more things in the bag,” Miguel says, stepping back to give you space.

You thank him once again for the tablet, suspecting that it was rather expensive. You go through the rest of the bag, finding books for you to read since you’ve told Miguel over the last months about books you’ve read, and he has noticed it himself by spotting books on your coffee table. You notice he bought books that fit your vibe perfectly, which you find endearing. Along with that, Miguel bought you multiple packages of book tabs because he also noticed some of your books back home had some, marking passages that you really liked. You smile warmly as you put those items back, thanking Miguel for being so thoughtful, into yet another gift. He packaged the books and book tabs into a reusable tote bag with some of Nueva York's most important buildings printed on it, which you absolutely love.

At last, you reach the final present. You pull it out, the item feeling familiar. You look at it with curiosity and proceed to open it with Miguel's encouragement. You smile slowly.

“Miguel…” you say softly as you reveal four records. You read the titles, recognizing the artists. You smile at him as you realize.

Lyla plays music sometimes for the two of you on Saturdays when Miguel hosts dinner and during those times, you've discovered some new music from this universe. The only problem is that they don't exist in your dimension.

“Thank you… This means so much to me. You know how much I love their music. Now I can add it to my collection. Thank you!” you tell him warmly, wishing you could give him a hug right now. “Thank you for everything, Miguel.”

Miguel grins softly and nods. “Always. I'm glad you like your gifts,” he replies, truly feeling happy. He's also glad you don't seem to mind that he got you a few things, nor find it odd that he’s bought you gifts.

“Your turn,” you tell him softly.

Miguel scoffs playfully but nods. “Alright. Which one should I open first?”

“The box,” you answer quickly, excited.

Miguel nods and moves towards the box, silently wondering what's inside as he remembers the weight. He smiles softly at you before he starts unwrapping it, slowly revealing an image on the box. He pauses as he realizes what it is.

“Y/N…” he says, looking up at you with surprise and happiness in his eyes.

“I've noticed you don't have one but that you enjoy the records back at my universe so… I thought I'd get you one. I know the sound quality from the ones here in your universe is probably better but-” you stop as Miguel shakes his head at you, his hand flat on the record player, or its packaging box at least.

“No, this one is perfect,” Miguel says in such a way that there's no room for debate. “Thank you, this is so thoughtful, Y/N. I know exactly where I'm going to set it up,” he adds softly, grinning, already thinking about the perfect place.

You smile at him, noticing a glimmer in his eyes.

“Always. I'm so happy you like it… You still have the bag though!” you remind him, chuckling.

“Right. I got too excited with the record player.”

He grabs the bag and opens it, pulling out decorative tissue paper just as gently as you did with yours, finding individual gifts wrapped as well. He chuckles to himself, finding it amusing that you both did the same thing.

He pulls out a small box and unwraps it, revealing a pair of black mittens. His eyebrows furrow, noticing they'll definitely fit. He hasn't found mittens nor gloves that fit his hands before, at least not in stores. It didn’t matter much in the last few years, considering he was always wearing his suit but now that he's been wearing his clothes and going out to retrieve groceries, he could really use them with winter and all.

He picks one up and tries it, fitting him perfectly. Miguel smiles turning his hand and that's when he sees the small personalization with his last name on the bottom of the glove in silver thread. He chuckles softly, realizing you had these custom-made for sure.

“Are they okay?” you ask.

“Yes, they're more than okay.” Miguel looks up and shows you. “They fit. I've never been able to find any for my hands since I became Spider-Man. Thank you so much, and the personalization… I've never been gifted something so personalized. Thank you, Y/N, truly” Miguel says with a smile, knowing that he'll be using them a lot for the winter.

He pulls out another box and smiles softly when he finds books. Many months ago at your apartment, Miguel mentioned that he liked to read though it's something he rarely does these days. He recalls telling you that time that he enjoyed reading history and sci-fi books, exactly the kind you got him. The fact that you remembered this tiny detail from so long ago, makes Miguel smile in appreciation. He thanks you for remembering and promises to try and read them soon, silently telling himself that for the new year, he’s going to try and get back into reading.

At last, he reaches the final package. It feels heavy and when Miguel looks at you with wonder and curiosity, he sees a glimmer in your eyes, excitement.

With your encouragement, he unwraps and opens the package. He stares into the box, feeling a warmth spread through him. He looks at you and gives you a gentle smile before he pulls out the first record.

“You…” Miguel starts quietly, with tenderness. He can't help but feel ternura for you **in this moment.

You walk closer to him, smiling. “You've mentioned liking some of the records. Some are my personal ones, others were Peter's… and I remembered you didn't have a record player, so I thought I could get you one, and also some records to help you start a collection,” you explain softly.

Miguel nods as he pulls out another record, and yes, the two he's pulled out so far are records he truly enjoys from your universe. He smiles softly at you, filled with ternura. Your gifts are so thoughtful and sweet, and the fact that you've paid attention to what records he enjoys when he’s mentioned it in passing, makes him feel heard, appreciated, and… loved.

“Thank you - so much, Y/N. For everything,” Miguel says softly, almost a whisper. “I can't wait to set the record player up and continue adding to the collection you've started for me. Thank you.”

“Always. I'm glad you like it, Miguel,” you answer softly. “And if you ever just want to borrow one of the records, let me know. I'll happily let you.”

Miguel nods, smiling gently, in appreciation. You can only return the smile before both of you notice the white, soft spots through the windows.

“Una blanca Navidad,” Miguel says quietly.

“A white Christmas,” you repeat. “Merry Christmas, Miguel,” you tell him.

Miguel smiles. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

You both watch the snow for a few minutes, mentioning how excited the kids will be when they wake up before Miguel continues to appreciate every record you gifted him.

After some more talking about the records and Miguel thanking you a few times more, you stand in his living room with your tote bag and bag with gifts. A portal is behind you, waiting for you to step in to return home.

“Thank you for dinner once again. Everything was so amazing! And thank you for the thoughtful gifts, Miguel,” you tell him warmly with a smile.

“Always… I'm happy you liked dinner and the gifts.” Miguel smiles back at you and then he remembers. “Come back for the recalentado, please. Just like last year,” he says, stepping closer. Ever since opening his gifts, he's had the need to hug you but it's still too soon, still too much for him to handle.

“Of course, thank you. What time is best for you?” you ask with a grin.

Miguel pauses for a moment, thinking. And then, he invites you for breakfast.

“The recalentado is for dinner. You can go home after breakfast, don't feel pressured to be here all day. I know you probably have plans to see everyone else at some point today and then you can come back for dinner, or… If you want to spend the day here - I wouldn't mind at all but you probably have plans and-” Miguel says, scratching his neck softly, not knowing how to simply say that he’d be open to you spending the day here with him without it sounding off.

“I wouldn't mind either.”

Miguel lowers his hand. “Oh…” He smiles slowly and nods. “Then…”

“I’ll see you in the morning - or well, I guess in a few hours?”

“In a few hours then,” he replies softly. “I’ll wait for you for breakfast.”

You thank him again and with one last goodbye from both of you, you enter the portal and return home. Miguel stands in his living room, the light of the portal fading slowly. He looks past it and out the windows, the snow is really picking up now. He smiles softly, planning on doing one more thing before heading to bed for the night.

The next morning you shower and get ready to go to Miguel's universe. You grab your gizmo from the coffee table, accidentally knocking off a notice you and the entire building received earlier this month from your landlord, something about not overloading extension cords and electrical sockets because of the holidays to avoid a short circuit.

You pick it up and place it back on the table before you open a portal. You find yourself in Miguel's living room once again, only a few hours later.

The fireplace is on already, making the entire penthouse feel cozy and warm. The sound of music fills your ears, except the quality is different and you recognize the song. Your eyes search for it and you find it quickly. You smile in delight as you see that Miguel has given his new record player and records a home in his living room, and that he's already using it.

“Good morning, Merry Christmas,” Miguel says making you turn in surprise, which makes him chuckle softly.

You chuckle as you take him in. His hair is damp from a shower and he's wearing a beige sweater that looks incredibly cozy on him. He steps closer, gesturing to the record player. His scent surrounds you and you find yourself recognizing every aspect of it - from his shampoo to his body wash and his shaving products to his deodorant and cologne, to his scent alone. You blink, surprised at yourself by how well you recognize the different notes of his scent, even months later since you helped him shower when he was injured and nearly lost his life back in the spring.

You push those thoughts away and smile at Miguel as he tells you about how he set up the record player after you left and that he's been playing music from it since he woke up. You don’t fail to notice the happy tone in his voice as he tells you about it before he leads you to the kitchen and dining area of his penthouse where a lovely breakfast, cooked by Miguel, awaits the two of you.

Over music and conversation, you have breakfast together. You don’t leave afterward and instead stick around, especially when Miguel mentioned there was a holiday special for the movie series the two of you got into when he was recovering from his injuries in the spring. And so, you spent the entirety of the day in each other's presence on this Blanca Navidad.

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄

Translations: café de olla - Mexican coffee made in a pot pan dulce - Mexican sweet bread tinga - Latin dish made out of meat (pork, chicken) in sauce with onions, chiles chipotle, and tomatoes. Can be eaten on tostadas or as burritos (my experience) and topped with different toppings like sour cream, salsa, lettuce. burritos - I think everyone knows this tostadas - toasted tortillas; usually used as a base for different culinary dishes pozole - A kind of soup/stew made from hominy and meat (can be chicken or beef) and can be green or red, based on what chiles are used rajas de chile poblano - slices of chile poblano queso fresco - fresh cheese ponche - a Mexican Christmas punch made out of fresh fruit, spices (like hibiscus flowers), and sugar cane champurrado - chocolate-based atole, which is made of masa harina (in my experience). buñuelos - Christmas dessert; fried dough fritter (so good with atole) "Ya lo sabia" - "I knew it" agua de Jamaica - hibiscus tea Dia de Los Muertos - Day of the Dead ofrenda - altar for Day of the Dead recalentado - word translates to "reheated" but this is when you invite your closest friends and family to eat the reheated leftovers from the previous day of some event. It's supposed to be a smaller tight-knit group situation and less formal since it's with close friends/family. "una blanca Navidad" - "a white Christmas" "mira" - "look" Feliz Navidad - Merry Christmas ternura - endearment, tenderness; I still can't find a word in English that makes me feel like the word "ternura" does

_____________

Long A/N: Merry Christmas! I was hoping to have this out sooner, but the holidays got to me. I was also not planning on writing anything like this for Nonviolent Communication, but then I was like

Didn't I write a Christmas part (for Nonviolent Communication) back in like September because Christmas and Miguel just sound so cozy and warm? And now when it's the holidays I'm gonna miss the chance to write something for the story? In this economy? No. So, I got the idea and started writing, and here it is now! Thank you to everyone who responded to this post regarding what you'd give Miguel for Christmas. I had a horrible migraine while working on this yesterday and my brain was not cooperating. Thank you to @winniethewife for mentioning mittens! And thank you to @lulu-baked-beans for the lovely idea of gifting Miguel a record player and some records to start his own collection! I already had Miguel set to gift reader some records from his universe, so this was such a perfect little coincidence!

I hope you guys enjoy this, and thank you for reading if you got this far! Happy Holidays! ❤️🎄

Also, here's a little BTS of me working on this with someone special who arrived Friday (just in time to help with the tamales and everything else 🤣). He said he'd go with café de olla, too!

[rinaforstars]

eurovision acts name meanings bc im bored

please correct me if im wrong

solo artists !

gustaph (stef caers) : crown in a fortress

andrew lambrou : strong and brilliant

reiley (rani peterson) : joyous song sung by the son of peter

alika milova : most beautiful happiness

käärijä (jere pöyhönen) : spear holding ruler

la zarra (fatima-zahra hafdi) : captivating independent flower

iru khechanovi : citizen with strength

victor vernicos : just conqueror

diljá pétursdóttir : born in heart of her parents, feeling

luke black (luka ivanović) : light of his father, ivan

noa kirel : motion on the wall of god

marco mengoni : of mars (mengoni was found at foundations of venice)

monika linkytė : advisor

parsha parfeni : pure admiration

mia nicolai : moon for the victor of the people

dion cooper : follower of dionysus, someone who makes wooden vessels

alessendra mele : charming defender of mankind

blanka : fair

mimicat (marisa mena) : of the sea, mena is a topographic name

theodor andrei : manly gift of god

remo forrer : dweller at the waterfall from rheims

blanca paloma : white dove

mae muller : may miller (yes, literally)

brunette (elen yeremyan) : torch that the lord exalts

loreen (lorine talhaoui) : laurel plant that bares fruit

albina kelmendi : white and merciful

groups/duos !

voyager

daniel estrin : star judged by god

simone dow : listen to the dark haired [girl]

ashley doodkorte : ash meadow (couldnt find doodkorte, but i did find he is like my 4th cousin)

alex canion : defender of humanity on a footpath

scott kay : pure man with a shield

-

teya & salena

teodora spiric : gods gift on a spire

selena-maria edbauer : hesitant moon and star of the sea

-

turalturan x

tural bağmanov : to be alive with creativity

turan bağmanov : dedicated to turan (the goddess of love in etruscan mythology), or the land of tur, creativity

-

let 3

zoran prodanović : to sell till dawn

damir martinović : one who gives peace and is the son of martin

dražen baljak : emotional beloved

matej zec : the rabbit is a gift of god

-

vesna

patricie fuxová : noblewoman

bára šůstková : innocent

olesya ochepovská : girl from the forest (they mean the same thing)

markéta vedralová : pearl

tereza čepková : playful harvester

tanita yanková : giant daughter of yanko

-

lord of the lost

chris harms : bearing christ’s army

class grenayde : peoples victory

gared dirge : rules by the spear, hymn of mourning

pi stoffers : swimming pool, bearer of christ

niklas kahl : bald person of victoy

-

sudden lights

andrejs zitmanis : brave

kārlis zitmanis : strong

mārtiņš zemītis : of mars, samogitian

kārlis vārtiņš : strong giver of roses

-

wild youth

david whelan : beloved & joyful

conor odonohoe : lover of hounds whom is brown haired

callum mcadam : dove, son of adam

ed porter : prosperous guardian of the gate

-

the busker

david meilak : beloved admirer

jean borg : god is gracious in a castle

sean meachen : god is gracious, meachen is topographic

-

piqued jacks

andrea lazzeretti : manly who has help from god

francesco bini : mosest free man

tommaso oliveri : twin olive

marco sgaramella : of mars

-

joker out

bojan cvjetićanin : battle on veliki cvjetnić

jure maček : farmer cat

kris guštin : follower and servant of christ

jan peteh : god is gracious, rock

nace jordan : fire is dissipating

-

tvorchi

jeffery kenny : peace & handsome

andrii hutsuliak : manly outlaw

[that-daughter-of-nyx]

The fire to light up the dark

pairing: yandere!Leo Valdez x female!reader (mentions of being the daughter of Nyx and granddaughter of Pluto(hades), so sorry if you don’t like that I picked the godly parent I just don’t see a lot of people writing about my godly heritage)

This is random headcanons I like and want to share some are fluff and most are just crackpot energy

Your weapon is two hairpins one is imperial gold and one is Stygian iron and they turn into a sword it’s four feet long and it’s half Stygian iron half imperial gold with a black and Paris green handle and it weighs 3.5 lbs and it can change into anything weapon or tool you need

Leo sometimes breaks in to your cabin and or your room to steal your clothes(hoodies and shirts) and your camp T-shirt will go missing from time to time…you’ll find them smelling like fire, ashes, Dr. pepper, cinnamon, chocolate and the forge(so Leo)

(He may have put a tracker on your phone(he made phones for demigods with the Hecate cabin) or your sword/bow&arrows/daggers/ect ect)

And he constantly tries to hug you, and I mean constantly like he’ll break the no sitting at a different table rule constantly just to give you hugs and little kisses and stuff

He absolutely adores that you think of the Hypnos and Nemesis cabins as your nieces and nephews 

When you and he cuddle he actually sleeps all night like for the first time since he was eight and was sleeping next to his mom, he feels safe, comfortable, protected and is able to sleep through the night without a vision(a demigod dream) or a panic attack from a nightmare about the fire that killed his mom like he actually had a good night sleep

So when he started dating you officially Will Solace and Frank Zhang became his best friends because Will and Frank are also yanderes and they all give each other information

And how Nico gave his skull ring to Will Blanca gave him two other rings, one was a ghost and one was a zombie head Hazel got the zombie head and you got the ghost ring and so the three of you are called

The Ghost King is Nico

The Skeleton Queen is Hazel

The Zombie Princesses is You

And so you gave Leo your ghost ring and he put that sucker on his camp necklace and he wears it with pride

And if Leo makes you a ring or something he expects that to be on your camp necklace and when you make him anything he will worship it like the gods themselves gave it to him because in his eyes a goddess DID

Requests are open and I’ll write for any daughter of Nyx, granddaughter of Pluto (and there will be under lying great-granddaughter of Anubis and great-great-granddaughter of Loki text)

[thoulizziers]

Commisions are open!!

Alrightt let's try to start over because I gotta put all info SOMEWHERE

First of all... HI, I'M BLANCA! Or Liz. This is a drawing blog, but my sona has it's own lore too so It may roleplay sometime? I dunno

Anyway have a list of stuff

Masterposts:

TADC:

Doubles AU (TBA)

Phobias AU (TBA)

TADCity AU (TBA)

TADKingdom AU (TBA)

Cowboy AU (TBA)

Digital Medieval Ages AU (TBA)

My swap AU (TBA)

Final act AU (WIP)

Vengedful AU (TBA)

FNaF:

Suit off masterpost (TBA)

Out of hell Masterpost (TBA)

Fredbear's Camp comic (TBA)

Poppy Playtime:

F & C Coin & Fur

SC OCs masterpost (TBA)

OC project(s):

Project 024 masterpost (TBA)

Indigo Park:

Rambley & Friends masterpost (TBA)

My sonas:

Blanca sona references/lore

Liz sona references

Eli sona reference

Beth sona reference

Abby sona reference (TBA)

Ella sona reference

Want something from [X] fandom or [X] character? You can search the Fandom/character's name on the tags! If It isn't there, you can request me to draw em :D!

And some amazing people you should follow rn:

@xxmoonduskxx

@honeylavendersweets

@ash-the-bee

@modperseus

@yejehehe4746

@mod-teacup

@rainidaz3

@byabitcrazy

@pinkclownshoes

@thatgirlfluxwoman

💪💪

If any of the links don't work pls tell me 😔

Side note my main account is a roleplay blog (@jester-anon) so i'm not able to have mutuals in this blog ☹️😔

[chaoslynx]

Chaos, I had a big brain idea for an AU I might never write. But consider Hunger Games x BF Au. Like Ash in similar circumstances to Finnick with being the captiols “pet” in exchange for secrets, Eiji being a tribute in place of his sister (idk if she has a name) & Ash protecting him, Shorter taking place of Sing in games, lil Skip as Rue. Maybe even Blanca as former tribute who trained Ash? Idk how some of plot points & char fit in tho.

This is wild because @oof-bro was just putting all the bfish characters into a Hunger Games simulator

Anyway it's been a long long time since I read The Hunger Games, but the idea of Skip as Rue is killing me omg

[bunniehoneys]

out of touch, in harmony - chapter ten

My Kofi is here! Any support is much appreciated!

x - you're made of plastic, i'm just blood

Blanca is somewhat of a mystery to Eiji. The first thing anyone sane notices about him is that he’s tall, because the man towers over everyone. He’s got almost a whole head on Shorter, who claims that he’s six foot two.  But the main thing that Eiji is unnerved by is the fact that he’s never seen the man display a single reaction on his face. All that exists is this vacant smile or alternatively, a completely blank expression altogether, both of which unsettle Eiji greatly.  These things on their own are troublesome enough, but the last time Blanca was present, Ash closed himself off almost entirely for the duration of his stay. And now that it’s looking like he’ll close himself off again, Eiji is beginning to regret being petty and refusing to talk to him. Space for honest conversations is few and far between when there’s a wolf in your house. 

Read chapter ten here! + enjoy!

[tricksterdraws]

Inspired by that one (1) HSM2 scene (screenshot of the original is under the cut)

(Gosh I forgot how Blanca comes off during his first few appearances I want 20)

[trashayfanfiction]

Blanca+Ash: Feelings of Loneliness

SPOILERS

I think it needs to be edited a lot more before posting on AO3, but with the new ep that just came out FUCK I need to post this. The hospital scene in BF is more heartbreaking than the ending to me. No words, no touch, only longing for what you can’t have. I cry.

...........................

Lost Souls, Salted Wounds

Feelings of Loneliness

               He couldn’t stay. He knew he couldn’t stay. Escaping with Eiji was a good dream, but an unrealistic one.

               He took the offer of ‘retiring’ in the Caribbean. He didn’t want to die yet, with that memory to keep him warm, the heat, the sun, and chocolate skinned women did nothing for him. Eiji would be safe away from him. The plane ticket was tempting, but naïve…. Just like the rest of the sweet man. There was no way he could escape himself and his fate. If he stayed, violence would follow him. He wanted to keep that friendship.

“You will always be my friend,” He tried not to cry while reading that letter. He’d thrown the plane ticket away to not be tempted. The thought of escape was too painful. He kept the letter. He read it over and over.

               He felt better when he didn’t read it. Tears stained the page, and now he didn’t know if they were all his own. Maybe there were tear marks on it when he first received it… he didn’t quite notice then. He was shocked and in awe, and his heart fluttered. His heart ached. His heart had never ached and wanted like before that letter.

He felt loved. It was returned.

He tried to maintain his appetite. He’d wrote a letter of his own, letting Eiji know why; that they needed to be realistic. It couldn’t happen. Eiji would probably forget about him in a couple years anyways. Hopefully.

               He hoped Eiji would forget him in a couple years, because he wanted everyday the other’s presence. He knew what he was missing. It was hard to go back.

“It is better to have loved and lost than never loved at all,” - Alfred Lord Tennyson

               The Japanese man’s presence owned more than a small part of Ash. He always would… He shouldn’t have added his feelings in that letter. Eiji was sentimental enough that a small part of him would never forget that note even if he choose to move on.

               He remembered the first time he met Eiji….

Not shy in the slightest, too excited to know he should be scared. The kid was charming. He was definitely still a kid at nineteen when they met, by the time he was twenty-one he was more of a man. He had seen Ash’s horrors and some of his own. Ash hated that seeing horrors was what made you an ‘adult’.

“I was about half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty…you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are.” J. D. Salinger

He knew Eiji didn’t exist to make him feel better, but it was nice to have someone ease his pain. Ash chased that feeling. It was crushing him. He wished he didn’t know what it was like to feel better.

“To be able to say: I loved this person, we had a hell of a nice time together, it’s over but in a way it will never be over and I do know that I for sure loved this person. To be able to say that and mean it, that’s rare.” -Hemingway

He was a monster that knew love. It was hard going back to being just a monster. Here in the Caribbean he was supposed to be leaving even the monster behind, or at least running away from those who knew what he was. He didn’t know how to live. He was here with one of the men who fed into him being a monster, despite wanting a normal life for the both of them.

“The heart was made to be broken.” Oscar Wilde

  He told Blanca to go shove it with the literature. He’d had enough of people telling him about human experience. “The true loneliness, my ass.” Telling him that others felt the same didn’t make him feel better.

He threw the books all over their large library. He found no solace in them. His former teacher looked surprised but let him have his explosive tantrum while looking on from his green leather reading chair. Ash knew it was immature to have this kind of hair trigger, but this made it feel better, at least for the time being.

He stood in the room fuming, frozen, breathing hard, choking, before sinking to the floor with aid of one of the hardwood pillars. His face was wet. He hid in his hair, the blonde he always hated…. What gave him the attention to have the life he did. His hair, his face, his eyes…. He wanted to rip them out. But he would be a victim anyways, no matter how he looked. People just wanted power. They all did. He remembered being harshly punished when he gave himself a buzzcut when he was 12. Dino had hated it. When they found he needed glasses, he wanted the thickest ones so he could to hide his face. Dino picked out stylish slim wire frames. They made his hair look more golden.

Eiji had liked his hair and eyes, but had never prized him for it. Eiji prized his company…. Any kind of company…. His friend, not his only friend, but even Shorter revealed that sex was a motivator with him at first….. Eiji was genuine curiosity.

Sergei slowly put the books back on the shelf.

“Imagine how you’d feel if he died,”

Ash didn’t want to think about it.

“You’d feel worse. And you’d have known it was coming,” Soft thumps of the books sliding back into place, the only sound in the room aside from his sniffling. Sergei was probably making the sound in an attempt to be courteous,

“It’s going to hurt for a while, but it’s the right call. When I first lost my wife-“

“Don’t you think I fucking know! I know! Alright?! That’s why I’m here with you! God! I know what can happen to him, that doesn’t mean I don’t fucking miss him okay!?”

Choking, sobbing again, but more subdued this time. “I almost lost him so many times. Each time……”

Less anger, more pain, before the roles switched and venom was back. “I still don’t forgive you.” Barbed wire curling at his throat, “You could have helped me from the beginning,”

Blanca shook his head, “I didn’t know what it would do to you after accepting. I regretted taking that job,”

“But you’ve carried out all of them. How many jobs have you regretted?”

The older man smiled at him, “None,” ….Not reaching his eyes.

Ash growled, “….Don’t lie through your teeth,”

“Just because I haven’t liked jobs, doesn’t mean I regret them,”

 …………………………………………………………………….

 These outbursts didn’t happen like clockwork. Sometimes they were provoked, sometimes not. Blanca offered counseling with his psychology degree and shared experiences, but Ash declined.

Blanca told him he didn’t approve of avoiding problems, but to let him know the option would stay open for if it was ever needed. “I don’t like seeing you like this, and I don’t want you blaming me,”

…………………………………………………

Ash would come around in his own time. He was a wild animal after all. If there was nothing to fear, he could become bold and allow himself assistance.

…………………………………………………………………….

“Can I sleep here tonight?” Ash asked. He sat on the edge of Blanca’s bed, toing the carpet. His face was still salty. Tears had dried into uncomfortable crusts. He hadn’t asked much. Hadn’t opened up much, but it as a start.

“This was always easier when I slept next to him,”

“You’re an adult. You don’t need anyone to sleep next to you,” Ask for help, not a crutch.

               “Yes I do,”

“I’m not a substitute for your lover,” Eiji was a crutch. Overall good, but Ash seemed set that the Japanese man would heal all his wounds. Experience told him it wasn’t true. You healed yourself. Other’s helped, but it was you who made the decision.

“He wasn’t my lover!” Ash protested and flinched. He did his best to hide a blush. Not his lover, his friend… He had other friends, but Eiji was different. He let Eiji in. He wouldn’t mind if it was Eiji.

“Perhaps not, but given time you would have got there. I know you,”

“No you don’t! If you did, you’d know this would help me! I need sleep,” He pleaded, “I haven’t slept in so long…,”

This hurt child next to him. Young man, at least he should be… Sergei wanted to help… “I don’t think this is a good idea,”

“I trust you, I can sleep next to you,”

Sergei bit his cheek, sighing one last protest.

“This is…. Strange,” He wouldn’t say wrong.

“You will owe me for this, just so you know. I find it appalling that pajamas are needed to appropriately to share a bed, especially in this weather,”

Ash laughed. Eiji made similar horrible jokes.

What the man found for pajama’s was as dorky as Ash had imagined. Proper pajamas. Orange and ivory vertical stripes. He made sure to tease him about it. Ash wore gym shorts and a T-shirt. … one of Eiji’s old shirts.

               It no longer smelled like him, but the thought was there.

               “You shouldn’t have that,” Blanca told him before they lay down, poking the little skeletal fish on the left breast. It wasn’t something Ash would have picked out on his own.

Ash clutched it protectively, curling up in the sheets as the other opened his book.

               “It’s fine,” Ash grumbled,

“You’re not letting go of the past, how do you expect to move forward?”

“You still have pictures of her,” Ash accused him. He was given a sideways glance.

“I know, but I don’t dwell on them. I try to live in the now,”

………………………………………

Asleep they didn’t touch. He hadn’t expected to be held anyways. It would be weird from his teacher. This wasn’t like sleeping next to Eiji, but maybe the presence……

 ………

 He tried to strangle Blanca in his sleep. Getting himself quickly pinned. The ex-hitman had bolted awake, but anyone would have been roused by the screaming insults. The blonde’s breathing quickened, it caught in his throat. His asphyxiation woke him, eyes wide in terror. Flashbacks of being pinned under so many other men. He gasped. A nightmare he said. The men were back.

The older man nursed his bloody nose. A lucky hit.

“….I’m sorry….” Ash whispered quietly.  

“Are you tired now?”

“Yes,” The adrenaline had worn off and he slept soundly.

But he didn’t sleep in Blanca’s bed after that.

………………………………………………………………..

They were not alike. Ash regretted the people he killed, but it was the people who chased him who tormented his thoughts; living people. The dead couldn’t hurt him anymore. He was only haunted by the innocents that were killed in the crossfire. He worried for his soul because he didn’t regret killing the bad men …. Not often anyways.

Sergei was the opposite; Many of the people he killed never wronged him. He tried not to debate whether they deserved to die. He didn’t worry for his own soul. That might have meant Ash had more soul to save than he did.

Ash was more solid in his convictions. Almost everyone he killed, he did so venomously. He didn’t regret. The regretted the fringe effects, the violence that twined around him and the people he loved. ….Killing in anger was something Sergei related to, but often didn’t practice.

Ash was in tune with his feelings, he didn’t know how to accept feeling numb. He had no vices such as drugs, booze, partying, or sex. He might have adjusted better to daily life if he knew how to escape and have fun.

Eiji was his only vice.

………………………………………………………………

   ………………………………………..

 “Gh-Get out!” Blanca sat up in bed, woman quickly following him, clutching his arm. The blonde was standing at the foot. He had robotically walked into the room. Cold green eyes stared him down. Expressionless but judging.

The girl next to Blanca giggled at the young man, sheet slipping lower on her naked form.

“Who’s he? He’s booold, and cute,” She pinched her partner’s stubbly cheek, bright and begging. He skin was flushed. She was topless.

“Do you think he should join?” She whispered in the hitman’s ear.

Slick tan skin. His teacher was blushing. Maybe from the girl, maybe his presence.

“What are you doing here?”

Ash quickly looked away, giving the window a death glare. Straight face. Why was he here? Why was he compelled…. He knew what Blanca was doing in here…. What he was always doing.

  Those distant pretty eyes looked like jewels in the sunbeam from the window, watching particles of dust floated in the room as his body was jostled.

 Ash got up and left when it was over. He’d stayed silent the whole time with the exception of a few grunts that might have been just for show. He and Blanca touched once when they were in bed; Large hand attempting to guide Ash’s in a more practiced way to touch a woman. The younger flinched away. Perhaps frightened, embarrassed… Blanca couldn’t tell. He could usually read these things.

Ash had came to his bed looking for attention.

 He left when the woman was pressed between them.

……………………………………………………………………..

This wasn’t fun. This was high anxiety.

……………………………………………………………………..

  She made him feel large. He wasn’t used to that feeling, especially during sex. …someone so much smaller than him, under him….. This would hurt. He shouldn’t like this. ….he did kind of like this though. It felt good…. Kinda. Warm around him. Slick. Gripping him, urging him closer to the edge of pleasure.

Did she want this? She basically threw herself at him. ….but he threw himself at many men.

 He wished it was Eiji.

Eiji never did anything he didn’t want to do.

Ash admired that. Standards to the point of being stupid. Stubborn. Unwavering, unable to be budged. Sure of all the decisions he’d made. Unapologetic about them.

Eiji……..

He wondered if there was anything about him Eiji regretted.

Eiji was so strong. He admired him. Loved him. He wanted to stay. Stay forever.

……………………………………………………………………..

  …………………………………………………………………………………………

“I have a gift for you,” his teacher stated, standing at the counter making breakfast. He looked comically domestic in his blue apron, hair pulled back into a much too casual ponytail to be classified as ‘pristine’.

“Nnnggh?” Ash slumped against the table. His morning head was fuzzy, but Sergei insisted on keeping a regular sleep schedule. Breakfast at eight-thirty was seen as ‘reasonable’.

A mug of black coffee was pushed to him. “That’s not the gift though,” the other stated, “this is the gift,” A small piece of paper was slid in front of him. Square, torn on the corner of a page. Easy to be lost.

Okumura Eiji

A phone number

Izumo, Japan

He blinked up at his teacher. The sad concerned gaze looked down on him.

“Give him a call sometime if it’s what you need,”

Ash wanted to ask if he would monitor that call.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

He kept the note on his mirror for a few weeks. He didn’t look at it; he didn’t use his mirror. He didn’t like seeing his pale skin, green eyes, blonde hair….. objects of lust.

               Only Eiji didn’t lust after him. ….well, he guessed Blanca didn’t either. He had thrown himself at the other man, seeking validation. He used the other’s weaknesses to get what he wanted. …but Blanca let him use those weaknesses. ….Maybe Sergei wasn’t strong. Ash bit his lip.

He just needed to know what it was like to have sex with someone he liked. What he was missing…. He wanted to be in love again. He knew Sergei and sex wasn’t the answer. It wasn’t a patch.

               He was self-medicating…. Being self-destructive about it. He knew this…. But he just wanted to wallow in it. There was nothing good. Nothing that could make him happy like Eiji. He was throwing a tantrum.

A tantrum like a child.

   One night he called that number. It was a reasonable time in Eiji’s timezone, he’d checked. He didn’t know how much he wanted the other to answer.

               His fingers trembled as he stood in the kitchen, dialing the numbers. Every click of symbol pressed echoed through the room. He huddled around the phone on the snackbar. His toes played with the rungs of the barstool.  Anxious. What would Eiji say? They hadn’t spoken. He didn’t know Eiji’s reaction to his letter.

 The phone rang. It rang so many times Ash almost hung up. He was trembling.

“Moshi moshi?” A young girl. Eiji’s sister. He smiled at the memory. Eiji wasn’t alone.

“Okumura Eiji?” He tried to hide his accent. To sound normal.

She said something in Japanese before covering the receiver and yelling across the house. He smiled lightly. She was young, or at the very least carefree. After a few seconds there was chatter in the background. Male chatter.

Ash’s heart began pounding. He was shaking so badly. He clutched the receiver to his cheek.

“Hello?” Light confusion, inquiry. An English response. The sister’s voice in the background. Snickering, teasing.

Eiji’s voice. Eiji’s breathing.

He opened his mouth. No sound could come out. He didn’t know if he was breathing. How he wanted…. Everything. To see him. To hear his voice. To hold him. To apologize….. and no sound would come out. He felt moisture drip down the receiver onto his hand. Sweat. Tears. He couldn’t take it.

Something. He needed to say something. Eiji would hang up.

“…..Ash?”

He needed to say something. A…..

“Are you there Ash? Is it you?” Relief. Hope. Disbelief. Joy.

……………All things he didn’t deserve.

He hung up.

He couldn’t be with Eiji again, he knew that. He wondered what the Japanese boy thought of the line going dead.

……………………………………………………………………..

 He didn’t know how much time passed. If Ash started counting the days, the days would never end.

  …………………………………………………………………………………………

“Hey kitten!” Booming voice echoed across their front room to where Ash was laying in a sunbeam. The window was warm, the beach was beautiful. “The phone’s for you,”

He grumbled, shifting, stretching out of his comfortable nap. He padded over to where Blanca was holding the phone against his chest protectively. “Now be nice. He told me what you did last time,”

Ash gave the older man a sour look, “Who the fuck is it anyway?” He unceremoniously grabbed the receiver.

A knowing smile, “You really should work on getting a better attitude. Maybe I should ask him to change that,”

“Ash!? Ash is that you! Thank gods you are safe!”

Green eyes went wide. He dropped the receiver. It clattered to the floor, shell cracking sending a small bit of plastic skittering across the surface. The phone was still working, he could hear Eiji’s frantic words muffled. They would be clear next to his ear. ….why?

He turned to Blanca in anger.

“You don’t want me to see him!! Why?!”

 Eiji could probably hear them.

  When Ash left, Sergei picked up the phone, brushing the shattered plastic into a pile and throwing it away. Before putting it back in the cradle, he checked it against his ear. Dial tone only.

“I’m sorry little bunny. Perhaps I’m too distressed to help. He is a handful isn’t he?” The room was silent.

Exiting the room he was met with an angry blonde franticly pacing the lounge. Lanky hands ruffling and pulling his hair, as if messing it up would help solve his emotions.

“You’re leading me on! Giving me his number! And then you do this!”

“I don’t know how to help you Ash. I want to, believe me,”

“You’re a psychiatrist, you shouldn’t be fucking up this bad!”

“I know,”

“Is it because you see yourself in me? Huh? Is that it? Because I think it is. Big difference though, Sergei, your wife is dead!! You can’t see her, even if you wanted to! Eiji is alive and I want to see him! I want to see him every day, so much it hurts. But I can’t because if I do THEN he’ll die. I can’t have him dying because of me. I can’t have him and I know that! You know that! You knew what would happen when you married your wife. I’m not that selfish. My own happiness is not worth hurting him!”

“I want you to be at peace,”

“Then let me fucking die already. You tell me to stay away, you tell me to get rid of his things, and then you do this!! You keep your wife’s momentos. You don’t move on. You don’t want to move on!”

“I understand death is tempting. You can hold someone in your heart without forgetting them,”

“It’s different when that someone is actually dead,”

“I don’t like seeing you like this. You’re stronger than this,”

“No I’m not. I’m tired of being strong. I’m so fucking tired,”

 ………………………………………………………..

“I want to know what it’s like to do it with someone I like,”

“Then you should have done it with him,” The comment was calm but biting. Another wall for Ash to fight. More and more of Blanca’s comments seemed to be biting. Ash was getting to him.

“You’re a psychiatrist. Shouldn’t you be able to help me?” Snide comments.

“It only works for those who want help. You don’t. You want to throw a temper tantrum because you faced the reality that you can’t be with your boyfriend without him getting hurt. You are blaming me for the option you chose,”

“Then give me what I want!”

“I care about you, but I don’t exist to make you feel better,”

“I fucking know that,”

“Then stop using people as crutches. Stand on your own two feet,”

Ash’s eyes met the floor. “I-I can’t.” He toed the marble floor…. He always hated the bougie places the men around him prided…. “I’ve been on my own for so long. I didn’t know how hard it was to be alone until I had him.”

He knew it sounded pathetic. Like he was giving up. He wished he could say he wasn’t always alone. He had Skip, and Shorter, and Blanca. Alex and the guys. He wasn’t alone before Eiji.

The Japanese man just had the uncanny ability to see through his bullshit.

…….his teacher also had this ability, but his teacher was centered in a harsh reality he’d rather forget. Eiji was naïve optimism, Blanca was well-worn reality.

He had always lived in reality.

  “I would like you to start calling me by my real name then,”

..……………………………..

    Ash curled against him. Sex had never sated his body before. For the time being it was nice. He didn’t know how many days it would last, but it made him feel connected to something. Someone. Someone who liked him.

But….It still felt dirty and wrong, just like all the other times he did it. His skin prickled. He wanted to scrub it off. Disgust. Even with someone he liked….. it would have likely been the same with Eiji, but maybe it would have been different.

               It was a strange feeling. He could see why people chased that feeling, the first half of it anyways.

                 For the first time, this feeling made the older man sick. He had rarely felt the second half of the feeling…. Regret.

……………………………..……………………………..

  Days passed, they never spoke of it. Ash never came looking again.

  ………………………���……………………………………………..

The blonde ruffled through the boxes in the bottom of the wardrobe.

The tired man stood at the door. “You shouldn’t be so quite, Kitten. I saw you leave for my room, not making a noise can be suspicious too, remember.

Green eyes looked up at him.

“You didn’t keep her wedding dress?”

Natasha’s sundress. Yellow floral. Quaint buttons down the front. The young man held it in front of himself as if to try it on.

“Put that back,”

Ash had never heard that tone from his teacher. Almost panicked. ….good. He took a step closer, skirt swaying around his thin but no longer girlish knees. His shorts were hidden behind the fabric, it was almost as if he was wearing it.  He was still slim, he could still look good in this.

“I look kind of like her, don’t you think?” Evil. He saw it. Intent to slice to the core.

This one was not his wife.

“She was nothing like you,”

“You wouldn’t hit me and risk hurting it would you?” He hiked the skirt up, showing off his smooth thighs…. A disgusting gesture.

Natasha’s mother had made her that sundress to celebrate her acceptance in to university. Her family who would never see her again…..

“You need to put that back,” he repeated.

……………………………

 He was hit in the face and knocked to the floor. Not like combat training. Driven by an emotion.

“You’re not the only one who can feel pain, you selfish prick. Salt your own wounds,” Ash had never heard venom in the older man’s voice, “Leave mine out of it.” The emotion was only for an instant. A breaking point, quickly covered up by time and composure.

He felt good to know that Sergei had a breaking point, even when Blanca was untouchable. He reveled in that knowledge. He wanted to dig his fingers into that sore spot. As always, Blanca read him like a book.

“Don’t aggravate old scars, or I will kill you too,”

“Maybe I want you to kill me….” Still challenging.

He laughed to himself. This was like the stores his teacher gave him.

…………………………………………………………

They didn’t talk for the next week. Blanca barely looked at him. He felt a different kind of ache in his heart than before. There was still the yearning for Eiji, what he’d lost. But his gut told him it was disappointed in his actions. He had hurt someone, intentionally. He liked it. He could have chosen not to. He wasn’t supposed to like it. This man had just tried to help.

Would he take this out on Eiji someday?

 …………………………………………………………..

A few days later Sergei spoke. Worn, unkept. Mirroring Ash.

“You can’t stay here anymore. I’m sending you to Japan.”

[kapa56]

Banana Fish x Naurto

Let's imagine the characters of Banana Fish in Naruto (cuz why not).

Ash: not from a particular clan, good with any type of weapon, would definitely use rasengan and mostly wind style jutsus, from Konoha, would be in the Anbu for a short while and then turn against them because of the corruption, prodigy. Would inherit a jinchūriki later in life.

Eiji: from Kirigakure, great chakra reserve and endurance, would use hidden mist technique, water clones, water dragon technique (mostly defensive jutsus) and would probably be a medic nin.

Shorter: from Iwagakure, has lava release kekkei genkai and uses earth jutsus like tearing earth turning palm, earth mausoleum dumpling etc., great with swords.

Yut-Lung: most likely an Uchiha with mangekyou sharingan since early childhood, more angry at his clan than the village, prone to join Akatsuki just because he is angry at the world, life and himself, would take the eyes of one of his brothers in order to get eternal mangekyou sharingan. Reluctantly comes back to the village after Akatsuki dissolves before his eyes and gets the Sasuke treatment of oh well shit happens, it is what it is.

Sing: from Konoha, not part of any clan, would have Lee's abilities paired with shadow clones jutsus, dreams of being a Hockage, a slacker and a bit of a trouble maker

Cain: from Kumogakure, has the 7 tailed jinchuriki and pairs them with lightning jutsus, eventually becomes Raikage

Max: moved from the village hidden in the sand, a sensei as well, would use multiple weapons

Jessica: basically Tsunade's powers but would be a sensei in Konoha and would be also part of the Yamanaka clan.

Blanca: from Kirigakure, part from the 7 swordmen and using the Executioner's Blade, a mercenary who works for anyone who pays him, eventually retires to the Village Hidden in the Hotsprings,has offsprings in every village

I hope you enjoyed my little Ted talk :)

[bananafishdepression]

Thought this was a cute fanart for a second and then I saw it 😳

[dandee-lynx]

sing: why are you smiling?

yut lung: what? can’t i just be happy?

blanca: he kidnapped eiji again.

[theodorebasmanov]

I’ve watched the twenty-fourth episode of “Banana Fish”. It’s the last episode. Oh, Good Lord, I cried throughout all thirty minutes (it’s a little longer than a regular one). (SPOILERS!) Ash is captured by Foxx and sedated. Colonel plans to make Ash the head of the Corsican Foundation and control him. All the gang members have to save themselves, but still aren’t planning to leave without the hostages. So, Sing and Blanca separated to help Ash and the others moved to their rescue mission. Then Jessica joins them and saves everybody. Jessica is so cool! Also, Max proposed to her again and she accepted! But not everything is so good – Ash ran away, took one of the doctors with a case with all information about Banana Fish hostage, but then he had to fight with Fox. Again. And Fox tried to shame Ash with his past again. Sing and Blanca also reached the place where they were fighting and helped Ash as they could – distracted and killed them and then blew up their helicopter. Ash almost killed Fox, but then colonel stabbed him with a knife in a shoulder, so Ash drilled thorough his chest, but he still didn’t die, so, when Ash tried to save Sing, who was hanging outside of the building (not exactly a building, more of a construction site, that’s why there was drill) with the information case, Fox stood up and aimed a gun to Ash’s head. But then help came from where you’d least expect it. Apparently, Golzine was still alive, so he shot Fox and fell off the building. Ash saved Sing. All the hostages were saved too – so, happy ending? Well, Blanca leaves for the Caribbean again. Sing came to Yut-Lung intending to shoot him, but they had a talk and now Yut-Lung has to restore peace in the China-town (with Sing’s help) for redemption. Eiji is leaving for Japan and when Sing visited him in the hospital it turned out Ash didn’t. So Eiji asked to give Ash a letter. Sing delivered the letter, called Ash an idiot (agreed one hundred per cent) and left to see Eiji off. Ash started reading the letter and it’s astonishingly, deadly sweet. Ash starts running, probably hoping to see Eiji at the airport. He stumbled upon a person on the street. It was Lao. Sing’s brother. Who left in the previous episode. He stabbed Ash. Ash immediately shot him. But, of course, instead of calling for help, he continued running, ran to the Library and died there happily after reading the letter up to the end. They freaking killed him! Why?! For What?! What does it serve aside from silly shock/drama effect?! I don’t get it. P.S. Children, remember – if you’re stabbed, Don’t pull the knife out! It’ll make you bleed much worse. P.P.S. Headcanon, that one of the librarians realized that Ash’s not okay, helped him and Ash left for Japan with a different name and personality.

[white-winter-hymnals]

god damn what i would've given for the banana fish anime to be set in the 80s like the manga. just imagine. neon. shoulder pads. acid wash everything. love is a battlefield on the soundtrack. everyone being fucking floored by the fact that ash knows how to use a computer