#ignacio makes a realization

[miraruinada]

"Sure, Arturia is close to my heart, but so is Hugo and Iovan and such. Gallo has become close recently, too."

"Wait. They're all blonde."

"Arturia, Hugo, Nero, Jehtin, Gallo, Iovan, Natalia. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no."

"Arturia, Hugo, Nero, Jehtin, Gallo, Iovan, Natalia, Carla, Piel, Jeanne, the First Emperor... No. No. They're all blonde. They're all blonde!"

"All the people close to my heart! They're all blonde! Oh no, dude! What the fuck! Granja? Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!"

[finchsthoughts]

A small Nacho Varga sketch for this fine Thursday :)

[richeeduvie]

So, there's this scene in Pretty Woman where Vivian goes to a clothing store alone and the saleswomen are rude to her, implying she doesn't have money to buy anything there. Then later she comes back with her boyfriend (?) and he buys everything in the store for her. I would love to see something like that with Princesa and Lalo!

Big Mistake.

Lalo Salamanca x Reader - Madman!AU

I just watched Pretty Woman a month ago! I wanna watch it again to see how I feel about it but I thought it was pretty good!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

Ignacio's at another store, something for expensive knives and cigars across the street. He doesn't care for when you insist that he doesn't have to be bored following you around dress shops. But you can't handle feeling like a burden, especially when you want to enjoy yourself. You wave at him through the glass. Lalo's coming soon to meet you here, he said.

"Just let us know if you need help with anything."

It's a voice at your ear that startles you, but you smile at the sight of a woman. She's dressed well, she's smiley.

"Okay, thank you."

Throughout your time in customer service, the anxiety of talking to strangers still get at you.

It's a fancily-dressed store, as most of the places you go are. Now, with Lalo, you don't think you're allowed to frequent places that are...less-then. In his words - but the less-then places you would have loved to go to in your earlier life, if you were able to afford it.

You're not allowed to be alone in public, not like this. So, you don't think you'll break another rule by going to a thrift store.

You quietly shift through the racks of clothing, thick and well-threaded coats. You have no need to wears coats in Mexico, and you didn't really in New Mexico. But your eyes can't come off one.

A cashmere hooded coat, lined in a dark red. It's so beautiful - soft.

You wish your tastes didn't grow with the sudden amount you can afford with Lalo because as much as he tells you his money is yours...you look at the price tag - and it's a lot.

But you can afford it, and you can, with guilt, afford that parfum that smells like vanilla and lavender. Expensive vanilla and lavender.

You don't think places like these have shopping carts.

"Do you need help with something?"

"No, I'm alright."

You run your fingers over the coat. You know you're imagining the way the saleswoman stares at you because you think too much and it gets to the point where you can believe everything is wrong and everything is out to get you. She's just trying to be helpful.

"That one is a bit costly. You have an eye."

You smile shyly. "I know, this one is beautiful."

The saleswoman returns your smile with her own.

"Using this store to dream?"

You blink, still trying to keep your smile warm. You couldn't know what she means.

"I'm sorry? I-I don't...yeah, maybe."

But then, you do. You've worked a job like this before and somehow, you must be an annoying customer - she's slipping up in her customer service, you must look as if you're going to put on the coat and make a run for it. For that, you're sorry. Your face burns and nerves come easy.

...But why would she think you might be stealing it? Or that it's too much for you?

Your smile drops.

"Just...be careful with the fur. Premium quality and threading."

"I can pay for it right now, if you'd like."

The woman's smile grows thin.

"Sure you can."

It's instant, the way your fingers press together. You let your nail dig into your thumb. You sniffle and lick the corner of your lips.

"...I can. If you want too, I love it-"

You look down in your inability to make eye contact with her, it's where you realize what you're wearing. Your old clothes.

From before. You pack a few items for your new life with Lalo in Mexico. You never noticed the difference in quality ever - not until you met him, but now...it's too obvious in a place like this. It's where you came from up against a beautiful coat you never thought you'd be able to afford in your life.

And you don't know why, or maybe you're just feeling all the reasons instead, but it gets at your heart the way tears get at your waterline.

"I'm sorry - I have to go."

You put the coat back on the rack in a nerved hurry. You rush out, trying not to gasp in air and wipe away the salt of your face, because you remember Ignacio.

But then, it's only more embarrassment as you cry in front of him. He quickens his walk in a hard-eyed stare of confusion as he comes up to you. You feel your eyes go small.

"What happened?"

"I don't - I thought...I think I'm being crazy?"

"Well...what happened? Why are you crying - hey."

Ignacio's spine bends slightly as he grasps on your biceps. Somehow, you think his eyes are softer.

"I don't-"

"How about you...breathe? Breathe. And then you can tell me."

His voice, warm and knowing, something so like him and entirely different, it's something that helps you a little. You don't think he should be helping you - that friends shouldn't have to do this, you don't really know if that's true.

But you breathe easier at his order. Only until you get a glimpse at the most handsome man you've ever seen coming behind him.

Lalo's hair is gelled, grey streak shining in the sun. He's smiling until he's not. It's a slow, black-eyed realization at what he's seeing.

You only grow more burned as you blink fast. His quickening in pace isn't noticeable like Ignacio's. Lalo's simply there right before you and you don't know how.

He grabs Ignacio's shoulder.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know-"

"Princesa."

You guess he's able to see Ignacio's telling the truth, because he takes his hands and eyes to you, focus and care on his friend gone with the question.

Lalo's hands take your face and jaw. His eyes become darker in the lean forward of his head.

"How did the world make you cry already, huh?" His hold tightens.

You don't know why you do this.

"And you like going out? Look what happens. What's going on?"

"I-I...I never realized how I looked before."

You think it's the last actual cry in you. Lalo wipes your tears with his thumb. He licks. You and Ignacio choose to ignore it, only for you because right now, his hands are the only thing keeping you from giving out another cry.

"What are you talking about, huh? How you looked before?" Lalo scoffs and wipes his thumb on his lip. "You got this guy cause of how you looked before? What's making you think like this?"

"I mean my clothes. My...I didn't think they were so bad from before, when they were just..."

Yours.

"Mine."

Lalo blinks. He lets go of your biceps fully as he takes a look at what you're. "Princesa...your clothes from before, they're - yeah...nice. You made do!"

Your heart twists. More tears leak.

"I tried-"

Lalo coos and shushes before pulling you into his chest. His black eyes are confusion. Regret, maybe? Not possible, maybe.

"What's wrong with your clothes from before? You came from hard work and now, I take care of you! That's what I do. I didn't mean nothing from what I said." Lalo peppers your head with kisses. "I didn't mean nothing, sweet girl. Just a tease."

You sniffle, rubbing your cheek on his chest before your eyes shift away from Ignacio's eyes shifting away.

The rubs on your back stomach.

"Why? Did someone else say something?"

The simple question strikes a chill in you. It's the way Lalo asks it. Sternly, but not unkindly. There's not throat in it, just smooth. Low.

It's fear that comes immediately. You don't want conflict.

"A shop person - a lady, I wanted a coat and I guess she saw the way I looked to and she didn-she didn't think I could afford it. I don't know. It's stupid. I don't mean to cry over it-"

Lalo's not blinking. Not reacting. It's him thinking, or absorbing.

"What did she say?"

"She just didn't believe me, that's all."

"What store?"

"Lalo-"

Lalo takes your face in his hands again.

"You're not gonna cry in front of me and get away with it." He kisses your temple. "You should know that by now."

There is not getting away.

"Just the second store after the one we're in front of now."

He sighs.

He pulls out his wallet.

"Let's go buy you that coat, Princesa."

Lalo's never been one for too much public displays of affection, but you're hoping his need to make you feel better is the reason why that's not true today. He holds your hand, Ignacio shakes his head behind. You're sorry.

Ding!

"Hola...oh. Hell-"

"Princesa," Lalo doesn't make a bit of eye contact with the shopkeeper. You burn.

You wish it wasn't more than embarrassment in your heart - that you're not satisfied by this moment. So, you try to make it so.

"Lalo-"

"Where's the coat you wanted?"

"You don't have to-"

"You don't like it anymore?" He skims the room and somehow, his eyes find the red of the coat. You realize it's the only one not placed nicely on the rack. "It's gotta be this one. This is exactly what you go for."

Lalo licks his fingers and presses it to the coat as if he's turning the page of a book.

"Sir-"

Lalo puts his hand up.

"Go find something else you like. Or, ay - this dress, Princesa. I know this dress caught your eye. Hell, Nachito! Pick something else for yourself - a hat to cover the shine of your head."

Lalo passes you to the next rack after he pulls the coat and dress off, hangers clash to the floor.

You to the shopkeeper. The money part...the showing off of it all, that's as far as your indulging can go. The littering, not so much.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Ah! Don't apologize. Not here. Now," Lalo pulls you by the small of your back. "Help me pick out some things for you."

The lady's just...wide-eyed. Red. You sigh. You believe it in your heart that you don't want to smile.

You scratch the corner of your lips. There's no possible way to get out of this, so...you pick dress after dress. Ignacio's off in the corner, arms crossed.

At least it's easy to believe you'll always be taken care of.

"Sir...do you need help with anything. Ma'am, I can take-"

"Mm. Did the senorita say she wanted your help?"

"I-"

"I didn't hear anything from her. So...go. We'll meet you at the counter."

You close your eyes when Lalo shoos her like a fly. It's only ten minutes of him shifting you through the store with piles of clothes and nose kisses until you get to the counter.

"Come here."

It's an order for every kiss. Lalo throws everything on the counter, leans to scratch his lip before he smiles at you. It takes too long to scan every one and although you cannot face her eyes, you cannot help to stare at her complete nervousness - the red on her face.

You didn't think you could be even more horrible than you are.

"2,500 even."

"Alright, thank you, Ms."

And there. That's the worst part. The delicious part. No, the worst. It has to be the worst. It's what makes you look to Ignacio.

It's Lalo taking long, obvious moments of counting every bill. Too slowly. The shopkeeper stares.

"Obviously a Ms. and not Mrs...she don't got a guy to be familiar with this type of money, even though-" Lalo sniffs as he gives her the last bill. "You go ahead and make customers feel unwelcome as if you got the money to afford what they can't. But today,"

Lalo rubs your shoulders.

"Today's a lesson for everybody. Also, pack good. Are the bags free?"

The lady's jaw is nearly locked. You hear her fingers crack. Lalo comes close to your ear.

"The coat is gonna look so pretty on you, sweet girl." He tickles the side of your neck. "You gonna try it on for me at home, hm?"

It's the least you can do.

[justauthoring]

whole wide world.

just the two of you, together, in the whole wide world. and then? it's just you.

a/n -> okay, first, i realize i am late to bcs (as always) and that this probably won't get any notes BUT i just watched 06x03 and i am DISTRAUGHT also please excuse my poor attempt of using spanish endearments :) most of them are from google, so if you guys have suggestions, let me know!

tw. -> warning for better call saul 06x03? im not sure if i should put this, but just in case.

pairing -> ignacio "nacho" varga x f!reader

"we'll get out."

"nacho—"

"no," he cuts in, stepping towards you with a sharp look in his eyes. "we—you, me, my dad... we're gonna get out. all three of us."

letting out a sigh, you shake your head, reaching across the counter to grab his hand in your own. the action seems to still nacho, even if briefly, because he's blinking and his body is easing and then he's meeting your eyes and you see the fear behind them.

"i know," you assure, voice soft and warm. there wasn't an ounce of doubt in your voice. you knew nacho meant what he said and you trusted him wholeheartedly—if he said that you'd get out, he meant it. "i'm just worried."

"it'll be fine."

"will you?"

and he pauses at that, body stilling. he takes one look at you and huffs because he can't lie; you'll see right through him. you always have. so the admittance comes with a shaky sigh, letting his head fall into his hands as he pulls away from you.

"i dunno," he breathes. "i don't know anything."

your heart breaks.

"oh, mi dulce. ignacio."

pulling away from the counter, you make your way around the island, crossing the distance over to him with ease and take him into your arms. your arm wraps around his shoulder and you tug him towards you, ignoring the small fight he gives before he eventually falls into you with a choked sob.

his face presses into the curve of your neck, arms wrapping around your waist as he grips onto you like he's afraid you'll disappear from him.

"what's wrong, cariño?"

and he shakes his head against you, shaking all whilst he does it. you've asked him this question so many times and while this is the first time he's fallen apart on you quite like this, you know the answer will remain the same.

silence.

you know nacho is involved with the cartel and that he has been for a good chunk of his life; the secret of it had been revealed pretty early on in your relationship. it wasn't ideal but you knew at his heart nacho was a good man and in the end, it hadn't been enough to sway you from him.

but something had changed these last few months. things with his father and the cartel and he's been so damn secretive about it all but in your gut you knew it was bad. you're not sure you've seen him smile in weeks or look anything but tense. even when it was just the two of you, he seemed particularly on edge of everything around him.

then he'd told you it wasn't safe for you to take transit to work anymore. when you'd questioned that, he'd refused to say anything. the next day he'd come over with a new car, just for you.

it was clear he was in danger and given the way he'd been extra protective of you lately, you figured that danger extended to you. and his father, probably.

he said he'd get you away, that he'd keep you safe, so you didn't really care all that much about being in danger. you trusted his word and you knew he'd never let anything happen to you.

you were just worried about him.

terribly.

"you have to tell me," you plead, pulling back enough to see his face. nacho blinks at the movement, forcing the tears that had welled in his eyes to disappear, effectively righting himself to alleviate any concern.

it's too late.

"ignacio, please," you beg, squeezing his shoulders, fighting him from walking away. "i just need to know you're okay. i can't go on with this worry anymore. i can't. and you won't—"

he cuts you off by pressing his lips against your own. his movement is swift, quick, catching you by surprise as he tugs you against him by your hip, the other hand moving to brush your hair back and cup your cheek. the fight leaves you the second you feel his lips press against your own, instinctively leaning into his touch as your eyes flutter shut.

and when nacho pulls back and you're breathless, he lets his forehead fall against your own and it's like it's just the two of you in the whole wide world.

"mi amor," he whispers, breath soft and husky. "everything will be okay."

the shuttering breath you've been forcing back falls out of you then, your whole body shaking with the movement as you set your hands on his chest, desperate for the feel of him.

"i promise."

-

the second you're phone rings, you're flipping it open and pressing it to your ear without even checking the contact.

"ignacio?"

"hola mi amor."

your whole body eases, slumping against the back of your chair with a flush of relief you haven't felt in days. you take a moment, before snapping yourself back to attention; "where have you been? are you okay? i've been so worried, nacho. oh, gosh... are you hurt? what's happened?"

he chuckles, but it sounds thick and strained. "so many questions, baby."

you scoff. "you had me worried."

"i'm sorry, y/n."

there's something about the way he says it that twists uncomfortably inside of you, finally taking note of how strange he's sounded since you first heard him speak. he sounds strained and coarse, and there was a tinge of something else you couldn't quite pick up on.

"ignacio," you call as the worry settles back in, falling heavy on your chest. "are you okay? where are you?"

"i'm okay," he assures but his answer is a little too quick. "i'm sorry i've been gone so long. negocio, you see?"

you nod, even if he can't see it. "will you be back soon?"

this time, his answer delays. your heart sinks.

"soon," he agrees eventually. "i'm not sure."

"oh," you let out.

"i just wanted to hear your voice. i've missed you, mi amor."

"i've missed you too, nacho," you whisper, holding your phone as tight to yourself as you can; as if that'll bring nacho back. "i can't sleep without you."

"yeah?" he laughs lightly, "neither can i."

you press your lips together and hesitate on a reply. something dark and twisted sinks in on you and it makes you feel sick but you don't know what to do about it.

you don't know if there is anything you can do about it.

there's a cut over the line and you hear nacho sigh.

"i have to go, baby."

his voice thickens and cracks at the end of it.

"oh? okay..." swallowing thickly, you blink back the tears that involuntarily well in your eyes. "but you'll be home soon, right, amorcito?"

"...y-yeah."

biting your lip, you force back the sob that threatens to break past your lips.

"you promise then?" you ask, words choked.

there's a slight rustle. "i promise."

"i love you."

a pause; one that lasts for what feels like enternity before nacho replies; "....love you too, mi amor."

and he's pulling away before you can say anything else, the line cutting as you pull your phone to glance it, watching as the call ends. the sob wreckes past your lips then and you feel you sick, your stomach tight and your hands shaking as you think about the way his voice had sounded.

it occurs to you then you won't be seeing nacho again.

despite his promise.

[depressopax]

Nacho Varga relationship headcanons

SFW version

Fandom - Better call Saul

Pairing: Ignacio “Nacho” Varga x gender neutral reader Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort, headcanons Warning(s): Nothing explicit but sex is mentioned. Friends to lovers, situationship. Some jealousy, slight possessiveness. Cuss words, gender neutral reader (mentioned as “partner” and with they/them pronouns) Words: 1.2K Summary: Being in a relationship with Nacho Varga would include…  English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 NSFW version AO3 link

What probably started as an FWB/situationship between you and Nacho turned into something else.

It was weird, watching your lowkey emotionally unavailable friend go soft for you.

He was clueless for a long time and tried denying what he felt for you.

Nacho’s worst fear was losing you. He has a dangerous lifestyle and dragging you into his mess was the last thing he wanted.

It was not until he almost lost you, after a heated argument that resulted in you walking away from him.

After not hearing from you in weeks he realized how empty life was without you. 

After denying his love for you for such a long time, he finally realized he had fallen for you.

He did everything possible to get you to talk to him again

After finally making you agree to meet up, he broke down totally when he saw you. 

Seeing him like that reminded you of the feelings you had for him, too.

Nacho was the one to confess first

After you told him you felt the same he pulled you in for a kiss.

A kiss that differed from previous kisses with him. 

That day was the turning point to your relationship.

Dating Nacho is a bit complicated, since he has a dangerous, stressful work.

You often worry for him and he worries for your safety etc…

But you make it work.

Losing you is the last thing Nacho wants.

The things this man does to keep you safe? Jeez.

You become his first priority.

As we see in the show, he is caring and protective over people he loves

That’s right, he loves you.

He is very impulsive and takes big risks, so you often have to talk him out of doing stupid shit.

Your relationship would be a secret at first, until Nacho finds a way to sneakily take you out on dates and eventually be more open about the relationship.

One of the first things he does after confessing his love to you being introducing you to his dad

He wants two of the most important people in his life to get along.

And you do. His dad is nice to you, glad that his son has found someone that makes him smile Nacho: “So?” Manuel: “I like them.” Nacho: “Yeah?” Manuel: “Yes. You seem happy. And if they make my son happy, I like them. Don’t let them go.” Nacho: “I won’t.”

Nacho telling his dad about you - although he cringes at himself - he can’t help but express his love and tell Manuel about how amazing you are. 

The same applies to him meeting your friends/family

He isn’t that comfortable around new people but really makes an effort

He wants to get along with the important people in your life.

Dates with Nacho variates.

Either, he takes you on classic dates; dinner or the cinema

Or he likes making the date a little adventure, taking you sightseeing, going on road-trips or going to some club together etc

…Or simply more “lazy” dates. Ordering takeaway and watching movies at home, café dates or stargazing etc…

He doesn’t really mind where you are or what you do, he just wants to spend time with you and make you feel special.

He’s a bit traditional when it comes to dates and likes paying for the both of you.

Not in a way to brag, but rather to make you feel special and feel like he can take care of you. 

Not only on dates he spends money on you.

He’s the type of guy to surprise you with gifts like it’s nothing.

It’s enough with a “That jacket is pretty!” and if he’s feeling like spoiling you, it’s yours after a while.

He earns a lot of money but rarely spends it on himself, instead either financially helps his dad, or buys things for you.

Apart from gifts, his love language is touch and words. 

He loves having one of his strong arms around your shoulders at all time

He doesn’t mind PDA

Nacho is not the guy that will kiss you or make out around people, but loves holding your hand and having you close

And having you in his lap ;)

He wasn’t good at it at the beginning of your relationship - but now he’s not shy to tell you how much he loves you

Might be a bit cheesy even with his compliments

But you don’t mind, you love him being affectionate. 

The two of you call each other pet names, he especially likes calling you nicknames in spanish; Mi amor, amorcito, Cariño, mi vida Or in english: Babe, hot stuff

Definitely can get a bit possessive.

He of course let’s you have a life on your own, but gets a bit insecure or jealous if you were to spend more time with friends rather than him

He doesn’t like when people flirt with you

He trusts you, of course, but it still annoys him to see people try to hit on the person he loves

All he needs to do is stare at them in a “If looks could kill”-way and they’ll stop lol

If someone dares to be mean to you, tho? Oh they’re gonna regret it…

Someone was mean to his partner? R E V E N G E. 

He has that “scary boyfriend”-vibes and carries it with pride 

You can’t really complain, he’s hot lmao

You are one of the few people he trusts enough to vent to.

He knows you don’t judge him and loves how you just listen to his rants and lets him complain about work etc

The two of you probably has a few inside-jokes about the people Nacho doesn’t like

Nacho likes to just cuddle up to you, have you massage his shoulder while he talks about his day at work

You have a calming effect on him and he usually feels less tense or angry after opening up to you.

He doesn’t even need advice, just you listening and agreeing is enough.

He does the same for you, of course.

He’ll listen to your problems while holding you, and mutter insults about the people you talk shit about, just agreeing with all your complaints.

He’s the type of boyfriend that tries to be very supportive of your hobbies etc

Will ask questions about it, ready for a long rant about whatever it is you like

He doesn’t necessarily listen, but just loves how enthusiastic you look when talking about your passions.

He remembers small details in what you tell him so he can use it to surprise you 

Your reactions to him remembering small “ridiculous” things is everything to him.

Like mentioned earlier, Nacho has never been a relationship guy.

He has never thought about a future with marriage and kids etc.

But with you? 

One day he wants all of that - if you want it too, of course.

He wishes to start over somewhere, and do so with you. 

Nacho also wishes to travel places with you, see the world and give the world to you. 

Even if you don’t want kids, he wishes to buy a house/an apartment together with you and propose to you one day. 

Basically, he adores you with all his heart.

Boyfriend, fiancé AND husband material <33

I'm so down bad for Nacho rn, help

[moonglide]

echoes of wisdom hours 8 & 9

spoilers for gerudo desert

-i got a redead. i'm unstoppable.

-how do i get this woman a tumble weed. what do i do.

-at the rift, found unconcious gerudo, knocked out some monsters, she wakes up

-oh so THIS is dohna. she's cute.

-ok so i go back to the town and can go in the main building of the palace but not the room on the second floor?? wow.

-fanta or whatever her name is is a real buzzkill. i think she and the queen are rift guys

-wait, dohna, you're betting your honor on me??? am i about to watch an agni kai??? damn no wonder everyone ships her with zelda

-oh the queen went along with it it must just be fanta orange over here who's an impostor

-bro who tf told you killing monsters would make the rifts smaller??

-at the ancestor ruins. tried to long-distance echo over the rift. could not. sad.

-oh shit 'say thank you to my descendant'???? you're a ghost????

-sadly this rift is too small for me to jump inside.

-ok i was wandering and i found this boss?? or super strong enemy or something?? it just appeared and the ground became quicksand and how do i hurt it???

-she's dying of dehydration!!! quick, go to starbucks and get her a pumpkin spice latte!!!

-i actually didn't know you could do two of the same ingredient so that's cool.

-i love how much dohna trusts us.

-i saw fanta in the rift and i'm like huh she must not be an imposter. the rift must have expanded while we were still in it and it captured her. and then i realized that didn't make sense. fanta was always here.

-i had to look up a guide for this rift because i couldn't find the fifth clump of tris.

-the chief stabs fanta to reveal the it was sunkist orange the whole time. who knew. the chief sure didn't, she was like 'oh nice i was right' after she had already stabbed her advisor.

-went to the little mini-temple to pull the plug.

-awww, no massive free-for-all??? i was so excited

-link what the fuck are you doing here.

-ok link boss fight with bow and arrow. used the burrowing scorpion guys.

-that was easy.

-WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THERE'S THREE OF THEM NOW????? EXCUSE YOU NINTENDO??

-shoutout to the best echo: ignacio. keepin' it real since last week.

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

The Breaking point Analysis

Warning: do not read this post if you have not read chapter 36! You have been WARNED

Also I wrote this when I was sleepy at 2 am so sorry if it doesn’t make any sense.

Now I usually try to avoid making posts where I openly discuss stuff in my story- but after all the issues this chapter gave me- I wanted to do this.

The breaking point is a weird chapter for me it’s both one of my favorite and least favorite chapters- but it’s a contradictory chapter within itself. It’s one that is both a payoff and build up in a sort of way…

Think about it in Chapter 33 Tomas writes this in his journal:

‘To die and leave behind so many unfinished things was my worst fear. A fear that may very well become a reality given my current situation. “You expect me to still be alive by then?”

What was Tomas’s worst fear became Asha’s breaking point, and it’s all so tragic when you realize the similarities between the two. Both were fairly young when they got to meet the stars and ended up running into trouble with the crimson court or a seperate entity armed with similiar powers. Both being novices had to rely on a yellow/blue star to keep them safe while said star worked with an ulterior motive.

It’s strange right?

We don’t know how Tomas’s adventure or experience with Sirius ended. All we know for now is that he did not want his daughter to get involved in his past/legacy. Which ofc in and of itself can and does bring up a lot of questions but the worst part is that Tomas is gone and now he’ll never get a chance to fairly explain himself to his daughter. Their relationship and perhaps even her perception of him will change because of this which is something I think we could all say wouldn’t have been something Tomas would have ever wanted.

For all the work Tomas put in to build and help others he couldn’t stop his worst fear from coming true- and that’s what makes it all even worse.

But the tragedy or rather my favorite part of the breaking point isn’t just there- it’s in everything Asha doesn’t say, or rather what she inadvertently confronts herself with.

When Asha’s justification for the past 5 years of her life unravels who do we see appear before her? Everyone higher on the social ladder, with even the apprentices making sneer remarks on how Asha was never one of them, how she’s unwanted or mocking her for Cepheus. It’s a sharp contrast to how she dismisses their mistreatment of her, but deep down she does care and it really does bother her

So many things she’s told Ceph that she’s seemingly gotten over comes back to haunt her in this conversation- not having powers, not having a noble title or not being able to win Ignacio’s heart, not being able to believe in wishes after the power failed to save her father and grandmother but it’s not just her realizing it, but it’s her hating herself for it.

She hates herself so much that she believes all the mistreatment she receives is justified because of it. She hates herself for purposelessly existing in a world with so many fantastical beings and people. But most of all she blames herself for not being able to save her father and grandmother.

Remember this line from Chapter 33? It’s the question Sabino confronts her with:

“Do you think your father would’ve valued this kingdom over the wellbeing of his only daughter?”

And Asha cannot answer. She in fact just changes the subject!

But it’s worth mentioning the things she thinks in that moment:

The answer seemed so obvious, but their unfinished star maps and broken dreams had made her wonder.

Shes doubting the love her father had for her (which has aged like cheese lol) because remember she could plan to make star maps in advance with him but all magnifico had to do was show up one night and her father would promptly cancel with her. We see this in one of her dreams:

Chapter 12: the dream

“Papa?” she whispered.

“Tomorrow,” he said softly, in a tone that made her heart sink.

That was what he’d always tell her on nights when he was too busy to take her stargazing. When his friend would come to whisk him away for weeks, maybe even months at a time.

Her heart began to ache as she cast the beautifully clear sky a glance, knowing that tonight would not be the night she’d spend perfecting her star map with her father.

It’s an arguably selfish realization to reach, but I suppose in the mind of someone with deep insecurity and terrible self loathing it’s just a hint of the cracks about to form in their relationship. given what we know now it’s one that I think has aged with a terrible vengeance as Asha’s mind seems to think that the reason why her father wouldn’t let her know about his legacy is because she’s a disappointment.

You can even see it here in how she contemplates the question.

Why wouldn’t he? Between her and the kingdom, at least the kingdom had offered a sense of refuge and hope for its people. What had she done? Other than crying, failing, and running around aimlessly, not much. Everything she’d achieved and promised had only been because of the star, not herself.

What is said in chapter 36:

“Are you?” the king asked, watching as she hesitated . “Because the last time I checked, you and your lack of powers weren’t the reason that it got fixed.

“Or the reason that the market got decorated,” Lady Allard sobbed, as she gingerly held her bandaged arm.

Chapter 33:

There’s a reason why her father’s projects and dreams had never gotten off the ground. How could they when he had an unspectacular daughter like her at the helm of each project? Her poor father, if only he’d known just how doomed his projects had been when he’d promised her that they could build them together.

What Velius tells her in Chapter 36:

“You accomplish nothing yet you still manage to cause more trouble than you are worth. Then you wonder why people struggle to believe in the projects and ideas you helm.”

What Asha thinks in chapter 33:

Maybe he should’ve wished for a better daughter…

Whats said in chapter 36 by the king:

Maybe your grandmother and father still would’ve been here as they’d not only have the child they deserved but one that could have ultimately saved them…”

((I don’t think it’s a coincidence))

But it’s very funny to see it when you realize that last chapter (chapter 35) she tells Ceph this:

“But that resilience wasn’t enough to save her from a broken heart…our wishes weren’t enough…nothing we did was enough!..” she nearly yelled as her eyes narrowed. Disgust and anger filled her as she spat, “After that…I just couldn’t bring myself to believe in them again…how could I? All I’d ever wanted was for my Dad to be healthy again, and for my family to be whole once more…Was that so wrong to wish for?

But now we see that it’s Not just the wishes that isn’t enough, but herself. And maybe that’s why she can’t wish for anything because deep down she feels like it just won’t come true because she isn’t deserving of it.

That’s why she doesn’t bother challenging magnifico about his wish granting despite knowing that he’ll definitely pass over some urgent wishes. It’s not because she inherently agrees with it but it’s because she doesn’t think she has the place to say otherwise especially to someone like magnifico who is the opposite of her.

Then there’s the part about her feelings for Ceph. Hearing that he was entertained and pursued by princesses has to be absolutely crushing when you realize Asha’s financial situation and the girls she notices he happily entertains.

But that’s not even the worst part- notice how she calls out her grandfather for this:

“Mean?!” her grandfather stammered. “He’s the one leading you on and making your life harder, yet you call me the mean one?!”

She responds with this:

“Cepheus isn’t leading me on! Saba why can’t you just understand that he’s only trying to help me because he’s my friend?!”

And later confessed that Cepheus is one of the few bright spots in her life:

“He’s the only reason you got out of that forest unharmed!” Asha cried as she pointed at her grandfather. “The only reason why I got to stay home…and the only reason why the tree got healed! If he hadn’t been there then…then…” her voice trailed off as she took in the shocked expression on her grandfather’s face. But it had been the disappointment in both the eyes of her mother and grandfather that had hurt her far more than the assassins had as she lowered her head, whispering, “I…I can’t take it anymore! Everything has been so terrible for me lately, everything except for this, for him!

But ironically we see later on that her argument is used against her.

The guilt over the Clariveaus, the queen, Julian and lady Allard also eat away at her as well, reminding her that no matter just how much she comes to care and Cepheus, that deep down she’s just as responsible as he is for the suffering he’s caused.

She even hears the figures say that Cepheus is incapable of ever loving her back or is only using her for what he wants. She likens it to her experience with Ignacio, which if you think about it does sorta share some similarities.

Then there’s the helplessness she feels despite giving him credit. Even before Asha spirals you can see it usually eating away at her as she starts to think that maybe Magnifico’s advisors had a point. And it’s not just a point she hates conceding too but rather one that haunts her so badly that she fears that if she moves elsewhere her experience will repeat itself.

“I don’t think you can. You could move away, but the results would still be the same. I don’t need you, nor does the world for that matter. Our power far exceeds anything your little science could compensate you with…

On a side note I honestly feel as if jealousy is an unspoken facet of Asha’s character because it’s so deeply hidden behind the insecurities that it’s hard to tell. But I think the jealousy is born not so much out of a yearning to have but moreso a yearning to belong. She wants so badly to be trusted, to be understood and maybe even loved, but after so many failures I think she’s come to realize that it’s not worth the risk. She’s terrified of failure and the burn that comes with it.

She compared herself to Icarus at one point- reaching for stars that would consistently burn her. But isn’t there something ironic about someone who is so deeply insecure, so self-loathing who doesn’t even think she deserves the most simplest of things to compare themselves to a cautionary tale of overconfidence, and ambition?

But there’s one more thing I would like to bring up:

Why would Asha want to burn her storybook? It’s full of fairy tales isn’t it? Something similiar to the world she lives in and wants to be apart of. But the reasoning that the ‘king’ gives to her is that ‘she doesn’t deserve it.’

I personally believe that this sorta extends beyond the physical sense- so it’s not the king saying she doesn’t deserve to physically have the book but moreso she doesn’t deserve to entertain herself with fairy tale like dreams when none of hers ever came true. It’s her self loathing in full display because that book used to be everything she ever represented, and she was going to burn the symbol of who she once was, who she once dreamed to be in a perfect world along with the book of her dreams for how she turned out in the real world. Completely and utterly destroying her future and aspirations because she no longer knows who she is.

It’s not until she sees herself in a mirror looking completely worn down and broken just like how the rest of the world sees her, and maybe like how the audience sees her, does she stop. Because now she realizes that she no longer knows what she’s doing.

And for someone like Asha who never usually confronted a problem without some semblance of a plan, who always bore things with a smile because she believed in an ultimate purpose, perphaps that’s the saddest part of it all.

[that-weird-mime]

I got impatient and noticed someone suggested Roy, and got struck with a bunch of fun ideas. So for the kids, I will do kid designs and adult designs. Here you go, person who suggested Roy! I'll do the first placers after this (which seems to be Ignacio and Kevin.) HCs list (Vague child s/a mention, but I'll still warn y'all just in case)

Young Roy- He steals his mom's eyeliner to get that 'vibe' he likes. He has gotten in trouble a few times with his mom when he's caught. He knows a lot about make up for a boy his age. He needs glasses, but he hates them and wants contacts. His parents think he looks smart in them so they make him wear them. He takes them off in public, which is the reason why he doesn't notice things as fast as his friends do. Hates haircuts. Gave him a backpack, which he carries ships and other illegal (to his parents) goods. The band aid is from tripping while running. Isn't great to have stubby legs.

Older Roy/Roxie. Highschool, Roy started wearing skirts to spite his parents. During his gap year, he started wearing skirts unironically. It was college when he realized he was a she. She forgave her parents for how they've raised her, but she still cut contact with them for the sake of her mental health. Robert helped her find a help group for what happened with her and her uncle. It's helped a lot. Overall a lot happier, but she's still sassy and easy to anger. Took Kevin's job at the candy club after he retires to help pay for her college debt. She's going for an engineering degree I like to think. That is a bit of scruff on her cheeks. She doesn't mind being scruffy despite presenting as female now. Totally in a queerplatonic relationship with Robert and Ross. Roxie isn't as touchy feely cuddly as the other two are to each other, but she's learning to cook to make their favorite stuff so she can get those dorky grins on their faces. Plus, she sneaks them candy from her job.

[eyedrateanatomy]

Slinks up to your porch and drops Ignacio headcanons on your doormat like a cat bringing you the nastiest soggiest dead bird you've ever seen (I am sick in the head about this stupid bastard, I see a fellow Ignacio Warrior and immediately go into overdrive. I dont know how to start conversations lmfao go my scarab)

- One of the reasons his house is fucking barren of food is because he cannot fucking stand being anywhere near a grocery store. He is an unmedicated paranoid reclusive man, putting him in a bright loud exposed place full of strangers is a surefire way to cause an absolutely incredible crashout. Once got escorted out of a Kroger because he was already on his last straw and someone's kid wouldn't stop crying and an employee watched him pull his sidearm out of his pants (he wasn't gonna shoot anyone. Yet. I felt like messing with his gun is a self-soothing thing he does a lot). Last time he went to the store he got like three things and then had to go stand in the alley out back tensing every muscle in his body to decompress because holy hell looking over your shoulder every two seconds convinced one of these mfs is gonna try something sure shoots your entire nervous system. When he runs low on food he will ration it as much as possible to put off having to get more food. He would rather not eat then have to go shopping.

- Used to have a few hobbies he was damn good at. I like to think he used to play trumpet. Maybe some cello, he seems like an orchestral instrument kinda guy. Has not played or practiced in years. It draws attention, wanting to ditch previous aspects of himself, and also because eof general lethargy / apatheticness to doing shit that previously made him happy. If he tried to pick back up trumpet now he'd fumble playing it bc he's been so out-of-practice and would take that as a sign to stop trying.

- Projects my OCD-caused paranoid delusions onto him. He has to complete rituals daily and nightly to affirm that he is safe. Check the locks. Do a patrol round. Check the locks again. Check the hall because it feels like something moved back there. Undo all the locks and open the door and then quickly slam it because you can't let anything in. Redo the locks. Check the house again. Check to make sure your reflection is following you. Check again. Check again. Check again.

- Sometimes experiences absolute peak paranoid delusion where you're terrified that something is wrong and someone is coming to get you and youre in fight-or-flight but you're also too terrified to move or do barely anything. Pressed into the corner under the bed, white-knuckling his gun, hyperventilating. Scanning the room over and over, convinced the moment he takes his eyes off of one corner somebody will be waiting in the other corner. Teeth gritted so tight his jaw will ache for the next day or two. Feeling like an animal in a trap. He hasn't quite noticed it yet but he's crying, a body's good ol automatic terror response. He'll feel awfully disgusted with himself tomorrow morning. He'd rather die than tell anyone about such a pathetic moment. He'd never willingly get help because he'd never willingly admit he has any sort of issue at all. But he does. And tonight, it's all he can think about.

- Has a love of sour stuff. Will happily eat lemon by itself (me fr). Rarely indulges himself in treats (or food. In general lol) but he definitely has a fondness for sour candies. Specifically the obnoxiously-sour ones, the ones that completely fuck up your mouth. He also gets a bit of kick out of offering them to people and watching in real time as they realize this is some Advanced Sour shit.

- Decent at baking, but not great at cooking. Has not improved his skills because he A) does not buy enough shit to try and B) gets pissed every time he makes a mistake. Believes you're either good at it or you're not, and he's not, so why bother? Basically all the food he gets is either readymade (like non-perishable dry goods, canned soup or frozen meals) easy assembly goods like sandwich fixings, or cheap off-brand snacks and cereals. Doesn't buy produce because he's shit at making himself eat and then it spoils. One of the reasons he's so lethargic and pissy is because he eats very little and what he does eat doesn't have nearly enough nutrition or calories. Core part of potential Ignacio healing process is fattening him up.

Okay that's it for now. Scurries under your porch and dies

this is literally all so true. he just like me fr (90lbs ocd warrior and too tired to relearn guitar). Ignacio is such a pathetic little mess im obsessed with him fucking up his mouth with lemons as if his teeth arent a crooked yellow mess and hes at risk for dentures. hes too afraid of the dentist tho cause what if they strap him down and waterboard him. same guy whos too afraid of getting a haircut cause what if the salon is full of fbi agents who want to use his hair samples for microchips. godspeed my paranoid gun lover

i want to believe hes good at baking. he NEEDS some goddamn nutrition im so set on the idea that fattening him up will heal him and he'll stop being such a pain in the ass. drew it actually

tfw you eat three meals a day and no longer feel like yelling at children to get off your lawn

[eatyourmaker]

I just realized that it was literally your art that started my simpery over Ignacio like 2 months ago, causing me to make my o w n fanworks of him-

[historieas]

twilight fell over the lively town, guests gathered around an evening for jubilation and celebration of florencia and louis’ marriage. immediately after the sun set below the horizon, a barrier of fire around the party had replaced the light. joaquin had been dreading nightfall. even as there’s no threat nearby or any suspicious sight, he remains vigilant. there are too many innocent lives at stake if something were to happen. he has never actually encountered a vampire in their full form. at least, not as far he’s concerned. hopefully tonight won’t be the first time. he’s satisfied just by living with the rumor’s description. the priest makes sure that no one strays away from the reception and maintains close to the embers. according to @girltold, fire wards off vampires.

white lace billows through the gentle winds of the evening and past the crowd of bodies dancing to the fast-paced and upbeat melody orchestrated by the band. flo wears a broad smile, approaching her older brother with mischief. she wants something. but even as he wonders what her request will be—what he inevitably will not say no to—a wave of emotion crashes over him when thinking of how their mother would react to seeing her, dressed in white, married to a loving husband and happy. a hand moves to wipe the wateriness away from his eyes before she sees. “are you… crying?” the bride asks, eyes narrow and peer through space between his fingers. “what are you doing over here in the corner, hiding? it’s creepy.” she whispers sharply and studies him for a moment. “you know, you look different. i mean— you wear the same thing everyday and you’ve had the same haircut for ages.” joaquin elbows her arm and she laughs, shoving back playfully. “you seem brighter.” she lowers her eyebrows and offers a soft smile.

after he joined the monastery, she thought being closer to god would bring back his old self but nothing changed. flo has a feeling he only did it because he feels indebted and as a means to survive. as if he owed her life to a higher power, simultaneously sacrificing his own. since inés’ return, he came back to life but judging from his reaction, he hasn’t even realized it. “i think i look the same as i always have.” ever since that night, he’s rarely looked in a mirror. how could he? florencia’s eyes find ines and gets an idea. she pivots in his direction, an authoritative expression falls over her face. “as the bride of the wedding, i command you to ask inés to dance.” a bewildered look fell over his face, “what?” although dancing isn’t prohibited for priests, people talk and they say awful things. “i will drag you over there myself. i’m not afraid to cause a scene, joaquin ignacio.” she wasn’t. every berrinche of hers became everyone within half a mile radius' problem. “alright, alright.” hands lift defensively before stepping in the direction of his old friend. swallowing his nerves, he extends a hand towards the vampire. “inés—would you like to dance?” there’s a slight tremble in his voice. “bride’s orders.” leaning into her ear, speaking through his teeth as if florencia can hear across the courtyard.

[genocidehim]

Hii🤍

I love all your works, just WOW.

if you’re taking requests could you maybe do something where Nacho falls in love with Lalo’s younger sister🙈

notes: render is female. words: 682

FORGIVENESS if this has no plot and feels very empty, I've been uninspired lately but I wanted to write something! Ask me for more Nacho x Render!LaloSister and I'll make sure to write something with a better plot!

The stay in Chihuahua seemed to be dragging on longer than desired. Ignacio wasn't happy about it, especially when Fring's failed attempt to kill Lalo didn't work out, and in a misunderstanding that occurred, Nacho ended up alerting Lalo before they could attack the Hacienda, causing Lalo to trust him even more now and his loyalty.

He had chained himself to the Salamancas by mistake and was now paying the consequences. Ignacio had the curse of being liked by absolutely everyone who knew him. Don Eladio marveled at Nacho's intelligence and presence, Don Bolsa met him and also formalized a friendship with him, not to mention the other Salamancas who were part of the Cartel, and each of them were detestable psychopaths and arrogant, none of them were spared.

But there you were, a young girl who shared traits with Lalo and his cousins, but seemed to be the calmest of all.

Nacho met you at a family dinner organized by the family on a Sunday. Lalo and his paternal family cooked grilled meat while the other family members hung out and talked. Nacho had noticed how numerous the Salamancas were, beyond those involved in the cartel. The women were beautiful and the children were unruly, and the family atmosphere almost fooled Nacho for a moment and made him feel comfortable, surrounded by the people he despised the most.

He approached the kitchen to grab a Corona beer from the fridge and seek some privacy to think. He opened the beer and took a big sip when a female voice caught him off guard.

"Are you Ignacio, right?" Your voice filled his ears, and the accent you had was somewhat similar to Lalo's, so Nacho quickly deduced that both of you were raised and educated in the same place, very different from the pronounced accent of the other Salamancas.

"I prefer Nacho" he said as he turned to look at you, realizing how good you looked leaning on the other side of the kitchen counter.

"Nacho" you repeated, and a smile illuminated your face. A smile that made Nacho tremble, the way your lips embraced your smile and your eyes sparkled reminded him too much of Lalo and his terrifying smile, but in you, it appeared much more genuine.

You courteously introduced yourself, indicating your place in the family and your familial bond with Lalo, which Nacho had deduced minutes ago. He feigned a disgusted expression and tried to be polite and friendly with you.

"Lalo hasn't stopped talking about you these past few days, about how you saved him and all that" you teased a little, gesturing boredom with your hands. "When he talked about you, I imagined a different kind of guy."

"Different in what way?" he asked with curiosity, noticing your boldness and charisma when speaking.

"I don't know…" you shrugged nonchalantly. "But not as handsome, that's for sure."

Ignacio felt his skin tingle just from hearing you. The way you spoke with such confidence and audacity to him, without even knowing him, felt familiar, and he wasn't sure if it was just your flirtatious personality or if you were actually trying to flirt with him.

"Handsome?" He laughed and realized that he hadn't forced his laughter; you genuinely made him smile. "And I haven't been sleeping well these past few days, I'm not at my best."

"And why haven't you been able to sleep, Nachito?" The level of trust you have taken with him truly surprises him. He usually knows that the Salamancas are distrustful and difficult to deal with, but you have been quite pleasant with him. "Is Lalo too demanding?"

Nacho laughs again and leans against the counter right in front of you. His hazel eyes carefully analyze you, and you can notice how he appears to have softened. "Maybe just a little."

"Well... I know some techniques to help you relax and sleep well at night."

Your words ignited something within Nacho. The sweetness of your voice and the audacity in your actions made him forget where he was and who he was talking to.

[bulldog-geckorahhhhh]

Break, guilt, hide ask game with Mallory and hate with Síofra, please!

The first time I think it failed and I send It again so sorry if you receive two exact asks lol

Lol I got the other ask but ur okay!

Also, a few trigger warnings: Vomit and light blood mention

Break: What could cause your oc to break down completely? What do they look like when it happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

What would cause Mallory to break down completely? Honestly, so many things. Mallory is constantly anxious and stressed, and it doesn’t take much to make her crumble completely! If she’s having a particularly bad day, it really only takes like, spilling a glass of water or tripping and falling to make her completely meltdown.

When Mal has a meltdown or breakdown, her face gets incredibly red, and her cheeks get puffy. She cries, and her eyes get really red because of it. She also ends up picking at old scars and scabs, causing them to bleed or leak fluid. So by the end of it, she’s bleeding, shaking, her hair is a mess, and she can’t barely see through her irritated and red eyes.

Multiple people have seen Mal break down, but only the Cult of Eyes and Ignacio had seen her at her absolute lowest. Mallory was a mess when the cult was attempting to sacrifice her. She was on her knees, fighting against going through the door, begging for this not to happen. She grabbed the closest cultists robes, and begging them to spare her. She cried so hard that she had thrown up on herself.

Guilt: What is your oc guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt or do they accept it?

Mallory thinks she killed her mother. She’s had the idea that her birth killed her mother ever since she was old enough to understand that her mom was dead. She caries the guilt of a death that wasn’t her fault.

Mallory doesn’t handle her guilt well, and attempts to avoid thinking about her mother because of it. Whenever she thinks about it she often ends up spiraling into a depressive episode of guilt, hate and shame. When she’s like this she often expresses that she wishes she was never born. If she hadn’t been, her mother would still be alive. Mallory is afraid to attempt to accept her mother’s death, because it means she won’t have anyone to blame anymore. She’ll have to realize it wasn’t her bad luck that killed her mother, it was just a tragic accident.

Hide: What does you oc hide? Why do they hide it?

Mallory doesn’t hide much. If you think about it most everything she’s “hiding” from Ignacio, simply because he never bothers to ask her about anything. So she never tells him anything that’s not incredibly important.

She is hiding the fact she’s in a QPR with Radford from Ignacio though. She isn’t scared that he’ll freak out, or get upset. But she is worried that he’ll judge Radford way too hard, and try to push her away from him. Radford is one of her biggest sources of comfort, and one of the only people she’ll willingly cry around. He makes her feel safe, and she’s scared Ignacio will try to pull her away from him.

Hate: what does your oc hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of hatred?

Síofra hates many things, and people. They hate Jack, they hate John, they hate Sunspot. They hate being alone, they hate being bored, they hate being caged. The most, they hate being caged. The cage is cramped, cold, and uncomfortable. It’s a dog crate for gods-sake. They hate the crate- and their hatred for the crate has conditioned them to behave. They submit and bend to the cults will mostly out of hatred for being put in the crate.

They also hate being alone as much as they hate the crate. Being alone in the manor, stuck in the crate is the worst punishment they could face. Being alone with no stimulation drives them mad, having nothing to hold or interact with makes them paranoid and fearful. And they hate that feeling.

When they’re crated, they get aggressive. Doing everything they can to avoid going inside. Often times they have to be shoved inside using a sharp pole. Or even knocked out and shoved inside the crate. Thats why they behave, because the more they behave the less likely they’re going to be punished and crated. They hate the crate

[richeeduvie]

I love to see this beautiful boy suffer- imagine nacho says something to Princesa about how Lalo only ever has sex with her and how that’s all he cares about. Princesa’s hiding under the covers and not wanting to have sex with her man thinking he only like her for sex, and that’s all she’s good for. Lalo’s about to WWE smash nachito into a Los pollos hermanos sandwich

"I think we're past the awkwardness where we can't speak about things."

They are. After everything, how can Princesa still be shy about talking to Nacho about things? She sits on the couch. Nacho's cooking something for himself. And her.

"You asked me how I felt about him and you if what you two have is...normal. I know you don't care if it is, that's fine. But if you want to know...I don't know."

"What?"

Nacho sighs. He turns off the stove. "You and him are intense. You know that. A lot of it is...you know."

He just told Princesa they're past the awkwardness of it all. They're not children. He can use the word sex. But he can't.

"A lot of it is intimacy. That's fine. But that's all people see if you're looking at it from an outside perspective."

"Oh."

Oh indeed. We've seen this before. Nacho does not learn, but he feels the regret in his bones - he just can't help himself.

Princesa curls up on the couch. Nacho doesn't feel like he can sit next to her anymore, he'll be in his room by the time Lalo comes home.

When he does, his hands make his way to her skin, to touch up on your stomach and ribs. Princesa's a bit jumpy.

"Don't tell me my hands are cold."

"I don't think they could ever be cold."

She can actually get away with acting like his touch is unwanted for a day or two. Lalo's not like her, thinking the worst of something until it bursts. He just lets it shimmer, studies the world around him until he's got the answers she can't deny.

He's never too tired to have her, but tonight's a night he'd rather spend by thinking of work with her in his arms. But this is where he studies, he reaches his hand out in the dark.

She jumps, pulls away. Princesa cannot know how he tilts his head.

"Princesa. You okay?"

Lalo asks it with the rumble of his throat.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, I'm just tired."

"Oh. I don't know. It's usually easier to touch you when you're tired."

He nears closer to her, hand on her bicep. Breath on her neck.

"But I don't mind when you lie sometimes. You know why?"

"...Why?"

Lalo peppers a kiss or two to her throat.

"Cause, I like catching you in them. Eh, not in the moment. Sometimes, in the moment, I feel like I could peel a guy's skin off-"

"I-"

"I joke. Or not. You should have some fun and see if you can try and catch me in a lie too. Just...afterwards, it's fun to think of you thinking you can't get away with lies like it's some sort of game."

Princesa swallows.

She already knows to turn and curl into him.

"What if we could never have sex again?"

Lalo snorts. "Never again? Are you imagining Hell, Princesa?"

"No...just--it's just a question. A lot of us is, you know, making love."

"...Yeah?"

"Sometimes that feels that's what we not. Not that it's bad, it's just that we make love a lot."

Lalo stills in the dark.

"I'm trying to see the problem."

"There is no problem. I'm just realizing."

It takes a long second, but Lalo's smart. He's a Salamanca. He can connect the dots easily. As this has happened before.

Ignacio is lucky he's Ignacio.

"Yeah, a lot of us is us making love." He kisses her head. "But who you are in my head, Princesa..."

I think you've ruined me. But I deserve you.

The guy doesn't even think it.

"It ain't just us making love. It wouldn't be making love if it was, huh?"

"...Yeah."

Lalo squeezes her.

"Close your eyes before you start thinking too much again."

Princesa does. Lalo does not close his.

He'll figure out how to properly converse with Ignacio tomorrow.

[nanabrainrot]

Homemaker

Summary: Lalo loves guests.

she/her pronouns used. established (toxic) marriage. dubious consenting voyeurism (?)

warnings! misogyny and dubiously consenting voyeurism (nacho doesn’t realize he’s watching a sexual act until halfway through; he’s mostly scared lalo is testing him)

Ignacio was not sure what he expected when he walked through Lalo’s entryway but it was not the owner’s wife waiting in a chair by the door for her husband. Ignacio’s girlfriends were typically on a loose schedule, infrequently on a set routine and moreso operating on pure casual humane base desires for dopamine and oxytocin either from sex or drugs.

Lalo’s wife was pristine, her back pin straight and hair devoid of flyaways. The sleek skin of her face was smooth like butter and only accented with makeup covering minor blemishes like some discoloration from freckling in the hot sun. Her lashes were coated in mascara, eyes lined with kohl liner, and a pair of false lashes accentuating her deep set gaze. The nightgown was cottony and thin, contouring her body like it a boa constricting her skin. Immediately seeing the dolllike woman, Ignacio jumped visibly, jolting at the surprise it set in him.

“Hi, Lalito,” she greeted, eyes focused on him as if Nacho didn’t exist. In fact, her eyes didn’t flit toward him at all. Lalo grinned, setting his possessions from his pockets on the entry console to move toward her with hands outstretched toward her. His palms were facing up like he were approaching a puppy he was going to pet, thick fingers in and out like a beckoning motion: he was approaching her less like a wife and more like a pet, Nacho noted.

Lalo’s dark shoes clunked off him beside the door to maximize his comfort, nothing but his cottony clothes on him as he bent to put weight on his knee beside her chair like he was proposing again, to level himself with her. He seemed to take every technique to make himself comfortable with her, her deep eyes following him like a curious cat.

“I missed you!” he cooed, grabbing her face and peppering her scrunched expression with kisses. Her nose scrunched up and eyes closed tightly as she moved to turn her stiff body to lean toward him, manicured hands starting to grab his delts to stroke the muscle with her thumbs through his button-up. Nacho noted her very particular comfort with him, still stiff in her movements like a ball joint doll would be, the little ruffles of her socks pressed into the leg of the upholstered cushiony chair as her legs seemed as if they were glued together when her knees went to clunk against his for more contact.

She didn’t smile nor giggle at this interaction, but let out little grunts of surprise at the contact at every kiss. He finished his attack of kisses on her mousy face with a kiss on her lips, before drawing back, and placing his forehead on hers, his thick hand pressed on the back of her neck and the other resting in her upper arm. “¿Estas bien?” he breathed, she nodded with their foreheads still touching, then leaned her head forward to rub their noses together shyly before pulling back to look his rising and falling chest.

It seemed like she refused to look at Nacho.

“Ignacio, es mi esposa, (y/n),” he introduced her, rubbing her shoulder consolingly, “…esta timida.”

Nacho swallowed, a bit afraid to talk to her and upset Lalo. He sparingly mentioned his wife, but granted he seemed to be home at a certain time he assumed he either was a man who lived by routine or had someone to come home to. The latter was a correct assumption.

“Um, hello,” he started, “I’m Ignacio. Everyone calls me Nacho though.” Her eyes didn’t leave Lalo, whom she was now leaning her head on his shoulder and holding onto him, but she muttered, “I’m (y/n).”

There was no more utterance as she lazily leaned into her husband, prompting a cooing of cuteness over her, as he swept her into a bridal pose and srarted into the living room from the entry hallway. Nacho followed awkwardly, unsure if he should remove his shoes and walked carefully to the edge of the carpetted living room in case his assumption was right.

Nothing in the house was out of order. Blankets were neatly folded and not a speck of dust was on any shelf. It smelled of a lit oceanic candle that he saw in his peripheral sitting on the open floor kitchen island all the way to the right. The high windows and ceilings seemed meticulously cleaned but were glazed with a privacy sun-catching coating that looked like stained glass of a decadent flower. He set her on the sofa and threw the blanket that was folded over the back of the sofa on her. The sofa was enormous, a giant beige sectional with a chaise at the end that she curled into immediately, and the rest of it curved as if a soft crescent shape. The mounted television was enormous and black, reflecting the sofa and the couple on it. Only the sound of a low rurring air conditioner was in the impossibly quiet house. Lalo stood again after setting her down, turning back to him with a grin and looking him up and down.

“You’re a smart guy; leave your shoes by the door and come to the kitchen. She sleeps like a bear, don’t worry,” he shrugged moving to the kitchen only after moving around the impressive sofa.

Standing in the kitchen in their socks, Nacho felt the air thicken and his hairs stand with fear. He felt like he had witnessed something deeply intimate without consent, like a pervert peering through a window at the two. “She made us dinner, you can help yourself,” he laughed, leaning into the counter, “she’s pretty, no?”

Nacho froze, unsure to compliment the man’s wife. “Ah, uh yes. You are a lucky man, Lalo.” Lalo hummed in confirmation, going on to his elbows to look over on the sofa at the blanket rising and falling with her breaths. “Very lucky, I know.” Nacho awkwardly leaned his back against a corner counter, hesitant to make any movements in the man’s house with his wife sleeping soundly.

“Do you have a wife, Ignacio?” he asked, looking back at the stiff man over his shoulder. “No, just flings with girls,” he replied curtly, uncomfortable to admit he just wasn’t a man interested in commitment or monogamy. “Ohh, mi amigo, there is nothing more beautiful than choosing one person to spend your life with,” he started rambling with a grin, “I have a woman who lives for me and waits on me. It’s beautiful, no?”

No, Nacho internally wanted to admit. He was unnerved by the way his wife acted, fixated on Lalo with an unbreaking gaze that he’s sure even snakes would feel intimidated at. “Sure sounds like it is,” Nacho breathed like he was holding a breath. If Lalo noticed his anxiety to converse in his home, he did not acknowledge it.

“So flings with girls? Like you have a few girls you do the tango with? Not just one, sí?”

“A few. Usually two girls.”

Lalo shook his head, huffing with a sigh like he was exasperated as a joke. “Nachoo, what will I do with you? Are you so debauched that you need more than one woman or are your ladies so subpar in bed?” he chuckled, standing back up and settling his hands on his hips like an amused mentor to their student. Nacho’s brows furrowed at the concept; he just liked to have options open.

“What? No, they’re both fine but I just like to have options.”

Lalo rolled his eyes, starting to lean an palm onto the sink that was a little adjacent to Nacho to make eye contact. “My woman keeps me as satisfied as I keep her. I’d never need a second pussy. You just haven’t had good pussy yet,” Lalo scoffed.

“They’re fine. All pussy is good pussy,” Nacho retorted uncomfortably and feeling short with the conversation at hand. It couldn’t possibly be leading a good way given the topic at hand.

“Good pussy isn’t great pussy, pendejo,” Lalo cackled, throwing his head back as if he had heard the funniest joke in years. “Do your girls ever say no to sex? A headache? Not in the mood?”

“Yeah,” Nacho shrugged, “sometimes they’re not in the mood, why do you think I have two? When one’s busy, the other one should be down.”

Lalo blinked as if he had never heard somethingvso egregious. His palm left the counter and he stiffened with arms crossed, his face stiff and serious. “Nacho, how long do you think I’ve been married?”

“Um, maybe ten years?”

“Twenty-four. Do you think I’m happy in my marriage, Nacho?”

“You look very happy, Lalo.”

“That’s because I am. And why do you think that is?”

Quiet. Stillness, only the rurr of the air conditioner snd Nacho’s hot breath leaving him hurriedly in anxiety at saying the wrong thing about an unpredictable man’s wife. “I’m not sure. Because she loves you?”

“Because she doesn’t know the word ‘no,’ Nachito.” He swallowed thickly at the idea, seeing his wife’s deep gaze on him like she had tunnel vision popped back into his head. There was no way that Lalo had never argued with his wife in their lengthy relationship and no way she would be so fixated on the man without some brainwashing involved; did he beat her? Drug her? Manipulate her? Isolate her?

“You look confused, Ignacio,” Lalo chuckled, rising a hand to stroke his moustache in amusement.

“So you’ve never argued?”

“Silly, noo. I ask, she says yes. I tell her do this, she goes and does it. I tell her I need some womanly comforts, she doesn’t even blink,” he grinned. It was sinister. Seeing her unmoving devotion to the man made a feeling ripple through him that he couldn’t explain. “Come sit with me on the couch, I’ll show you,” he winked, striding back to the living room from the open kitchen. Lalo settled on the sofa next to her and began to pet her hair, an action that made Nacho freeze in his steps as he watched Lalo from behind. His arms stretched out behind him on the sofa’s back, his wife stirring and letting the blanket fall on the sofa.

Nacho couldn’t find it in him to move when he realized what was happening despite being prompted to sit with him.

Her bottom peered over the sofa when he realized she was next to him, arching like a cat with her rear in the air, and bobbing her head on his cock. The sloppy noise of her sucking at his member were lewd, her own debauched whining as she choked on him to get it farther down her throat. Lalo was grunting, breathing hard and bucking into her mouth as she sucked him off. He couldn’t move for how long, struck by the strange scene in front of him. Lalo let out a how hiss and grabbed her head, holding it down from what he could see from behind the sofa. He whispered something and his wife popped over the sofa, crawling into Lalo’s lap facing Nacho. He could see Lalo begin to squeeze her curves and she opened her mouth to Nacho.

Her mouth was full of his white cum and she closed it, swallowing hard, and opening it to show her empty tongue to the bewildered man. Her eyes suddenly went wide at the sound of a loud slap, in that Lalo slapped her ass so hard it would be a miracle if there was no hand print. He kissed her cheek sweetly, before ushering her back under the blanket to sleep again.

Lalo stood, buckling his pants again and adjusting his pants before walking to the entryway, waving his hand to beckon Nacho to follow, and chuckling, “Thanks for stopping by, Nacho. I love having guests.”

[depressopax]

Before it's too late

Nacho Varga x gn!reader

Fandom - Better call Saul

Yoo! I haven't posted in ages, been feeling down and mentally exhausted 😭 Also been writing on my very own novel for a school project AHHH Basically been writing, procrastinating, writing, etc etc... But so far so good!

Now then... ✨Angst time✨

Pairing: Nacho Varga x gender neutral reader Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort Warning(s): BCS SPOILERS! Based on s4e3 “Something Beautiful”. Major character injury. Mentions of death and violence. Blood. Guns and bullet wounds. Cuss words. Mentions of surgery. Reader is gender-neutral and has they/them pronouns Words: 1.6K Summary: Based on s4e3, in which Nacho gets shot by Victor and is left in the desert. After being saved by the Cousins, reader rushes to the vet office to see him.  English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 || AO3 link || Masterlist || Request ||

The sun is burning in Albuquerque today, making the concrete and highways threateningly warm. It’s an early morning and will only get hotter. The streets are empty and people are either sleeping safely in their beds or avoiding the burning morning-light. It’s a perfect day to stay in the shadows or - for those who have the option - close to the fresh breeze from the AC. 

Not everyone has that option. 

But bleeding to death in the desert is a rare case, too. 

This is how I die. 

Nacho thinks. He’s lost track of time. The man is lying on his side, facing away from the sun and hoping it will protect him from a sunburn. It’s the last thing he needs right now. 

The wounded shoulder is enough. His hands are bloody and so is the warm sand he is facing. 

Dehydration and blood loss. - That was not the way he thought he’d go down.

If it weren’t for the sharp pain in his shoulder - that’s slowly spreading throughout every inch of his body - he’d feel angry and humiliated.

Gus and his men left him to bleed out in the middle of nowhere. The damn Chicken Man. 

Arturo is dead. 

Nacho? About to join Arturo in the afterlife. 

His mind is bitter and he’s losing the battle of patience. 

“Do it quick, before you pass out” - That was the words of Gus’ lap dog, Victor. He was quick. Directly after he was left bleeding, he dialed the number to them. The Cousins. 

Where are they? 

He’s lost count if it's been days, hours or minutes since he got shot. All he knows is that he is slowly going insane. The sun burns his neck and he lets out a grunt, opening and closing his dry mouth. There's a taste of iron on his tongue due to his dry, chapped lips. 

Water. His vision gets blurry and with gloomy eyes he looks at the wet, red sand under him. 

They’re not coming. Those fuckers aren’t on their way. 

I’m dead. 

The realization hits Nacho, fueling the pain he’s already feeling. 

Dad. 

Guilt washes over him. What will happen to his dad if he dies? That, and…

He whispers your name hoarsely. 

You. His beautiful partner. The one who’s always been by his side, the only one that knows about and doesn’t judge him for his fucked up choices and his chaotic life. The person he’s been so distant and cold towards lately. Worst part is… 

They have no idea how much I love them. 

“I love you” - A sentence yet to be said. So many emotions are left unspoken, so many things left unsaid. 

Without thinking or caring about the consequences, Nacho reaches for his phone. With shaky, bloody hands, he dials your number and listens to the waiting tone. 

“Ignacio?” A soft voice filled with concern says. Nacho smiles. 

“Did I wake you up?”

“Yea… But don’t worry. What’s up, Nacho?”

The silence lingers. What the hell is he supposed to reply? 

“I gotta tell you something.”

“Nacho… What is going on? Are you ok?”

“No… But listen, mi amor.”

“Ignacio…-”

“I love you.” Silence again. His voice cracks from the emotions “...I love you so fucking much.”

“Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye?”

“...Because I am.” His voice is barely a whisper anymore. “Take care of my father for me, will you?” 

Your voice breaks on the other line. 

“Where are you?”

No reply. You realize it’ll stay that way. He is too stubborn to let you help him. As if accepting defeat, you break apart.

“Don’t cry, mi vida…” He whispers.

“Please don’t die. Please.” 

I promise. Nacho wants to reply. But the last thing he wants to do right now is give you false hope. So he stays quiet. His ears are ringing and he wonders how he still has blood left in his body. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I love you, Ignacio. I love you…”

He smiles in relief. That was all he needed to hear. 

It’s all said and done and now he can at least die with some peace.

“And I love you.” 

He hangs up.

When a character faces death in movies, they see their life flash before their eyes. 

A cliche. Nacho thought up until now.

He envisions the few happy and peaceful moments he’s had in life. Most of them involve his dad Manuel, and you. The first date, first kiss, first time… 

Maybe it’s the sun or maybe he’s actually walking into the light, when suddenly a shadow covers it. He grunts. 

In the distance, he can hear two men talking to each other in Spanish. Someone lifts him from the ground. 

Exhaustion catches up with Nacho and everything fades to black. 

You almost kick open the door to the Veterinary Office. 

How you even got the address is a miracle.

Maybe because you’ve called Nacho’s phone at least twenty times within the last hour, or maybe because they know Nacho has a partner? That seems unlikely. Nacho has made sure to keep the relationship secret from everyone, to protect you. Only people that know that he is your boyfriend are Manuel Varga and your family. 

The last explanation… Maybe, somehow, Nacho’s Cartel colleagues are humane enough to let family and friends say farewell to their dying loved ones… 

Apart from an elderly lady and her cat, the waiting room is empty at this time in the morning. The receptionist looks startled when she sees you. But then again you can’t judge her. With puffy and red eyes and the almost wild expression on your face it’s no wonder people are concerned. Without waiting for her to greet you, you rush to the office whilst the woman shouts after you. 

Nothing can prepare you for what you see. 

It’s your boyfriend - lying down half-naked on a metal table whilst the vet, Caldera, performs surgery. Two men in suits stand next to the tense vet, watching over his every move with caution. As the door shuts behind you, the three men turn to look at you. One of the twins raises their guns. 

“What happened to him?!” A voice barely noticeable. The man lowers his gun as his brother mumbles something to him. The vet goes back to work and Nacho squirms on the table. They’re killing him. 

You know that's not true and makes zero sense. 

But what makes sense about this situation either way? 

You don’t realise that you’re shouting allegations until someone grips you and drags you out of the room. Before you get kicked out of the office, a weak voice calls your name. 

Nacho. 

Minutes turn into hours, morning turns to day and then afternoon. You remain seated on the cold tile floor hugging your knees against your chest. The anxiety grows stronger and it feels like you’re about to drown in worry. When the door to the office finally opens, you can barely stand up. 

It’s impossible to read the expression on his face. The scrubs he’s wearing are stained red. You can feel your stomach twist. 

“He’s alive.” 

Nacho wakes up from his feverish dreams. His mind is foggy and his eyes feel heavy. The sedatives are wearing off and his whole body aches, especially the place where the bullets penetrated his shoulder. 

He is in a cold room with his bare back resting against an even colder metal table. He feels like shit. With a raspy voice, he repeats the only word he’s been able to say lately. Your name. When a warm hand intertwines fingers with him, he finally breathes out. 

Your sobbing wakes him from his trance. He opens his brown eyes and looks at you through heavy eyelids and black eyelashes. He manages to give you a weak smile and in a raspy voice, he greets you.

“Hey, mi vida.”

“Hey, my love.” You reply and manage to smile through the tears. “You’re alive…” 

With those words said, you burst into tears again. The cousins and Caldera look uncomfortable with the emotional outbursts and the scene between the two lovebirds.

“...Let’s give Varga and his partner some time to talk.” the vet says. He’s quick to leave and the twin men don't protest. 

Once finally alone, Nacho brings a weak, trembling hand to your cheek. He feels the soft skin against his palm and feels a sense of relief. When you lean forward he doesn’t think twice before pulling you into a kiss, and then another one. 

He’s alive. 

“I love you. I should’ve told you earlier, I… I’m sorry.” 

Your boyfriend tries sitting up and winces in pain. 

“You don’t need to apologize.” 

He can no longer hold back the wave of emotions. The shock of watching Arturo die, the stress Hector and his nephews have caused him, for years. The worries for his own life, but mostly for his dad, and you. It all comes crashing down. And now… Gus is a threat.

Nacho knows his life just got more complicated and a lot more dangerous. 

He’ll have to tell you everything. 

But for now… 

He cries. He lets you hold onto him. 

Nacho squeezes you close to him, to make sure you can’t slip away. 

Once he’s healed, he’ll go back to duty. He’ll protect you.

But for now… He lets you protect him. 

When you whisper “I love you”, he feels at peace. 

You’re his shelter and his home.

Did my mentally unstable a- cry when writing this because I love Nacho so damn much?? Yes. 2am emotional damage