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hausofmamadas · 8 months

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| What’s waiting down Zuni Road |

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Pairing: Gabriella Castillo (Mayans M.C.) x Ignacio “Nacho” Varga (Better Call Saul)

Gift for the wonderful, illustrious, prolific @drabbles-mc - Rarepairs Exchange 2023

Word count: ≈5k

TW: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of violence

It's dangerous to be a woman in love. A brush with death at the hands of the man she loved sends Gabrielle Castillo on the run, in more ways than she expected. Burned in a betrayal she never saw coming, and tipped off by a non-garbage Angel Reyes to a place to hide out, a safe haven, a place to temporarily call home, she books it tf to Albuquerque. She arrives with newfound determination not only to survive, but a conviction to never let love blind her to pinshe toxicos malparidos like EZ Reyes ever again. Still, in terms of an actual plan? She has no idea where to go, who to turn to, or what to do next. That is, until she runs into our fav Walter Matthau-grumpy-old-man, not nearly old enough to be so grumpy, Nacho "forreal don't call me Ignacio" Varga. In some ways, he reminds her of EZ but she's dead set against falling for another pair of brown eyes full of lost hope and squandered dreams. But the more she gets to know him, the more it calls into question ... would it really be the same with Nacho? Is Gaby willing to find out? spoiler alert: she is. she very much is. sorry but like have you seen him? lbr here

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Mamá always told me to watch out for red flags in life. Dime con quien andas, te diré quien eres. Porque when someone shows you who they are, they’re doing you a favor.

She never said it out loud but I learned early on, the ones who waved the red flags most were the boys. Not that I was especially boy crazy at that age, but it seemed wherever I looked, there they were: waving red flags, making promises they couldn’t keep, being unfaithful, disloyal, dishonest.

My older cousin Mercedes had a boyfriend back in Mexico who used to tell her not to wear shorts that were too short because he did not like the way her thighs flattened on chairs when she sat down. At the age of five, I knew how mean it was and to this day, I cannot understand how it didn’t bring her to tears. But it didn’t. And she always listened to him about things like that, until he got her best friend pregnant and the two of them ran off together, leaving Mercedes behind. It was the best thing he could have ever done for her though. Because she never let anyone tell her what kind of shorts to wear after that.

The first boy I ever had a crush on in elementary school told me that even though he thought my eyes were pretty and he liked how I wore my hair in braids, we couldn’t be together because I raised my hand too much in class to answer questions. And girls were not supposed to be as smart as boys. At the picnic tables at lunch, I cried over my usual peanut butter and jelly sandwich, when my friends asked me what was wrong, I couldn’t even explain what it was that hurt me so.

Even Papá, loving and kind as he could be, made Mamá feel small when he told her that having to sell her floral shop in Mexico, so we could come here, wasn’t as great a loss as him losing his career as a police officer. “What’s selling a few flowers to a few abuelitas to putting my life on the line, to upholding law and order every day?” he’d ask. And she would say nothing in return, just smile soft and sad, plopping a scoop of rice onto his plate. It took me years to understand that sadness in her smile.

𖤓

Driving down highway 40, with the windows down, my hair whipping in the wind, and all the desert dust mixing with the faint, floral smell of my shampoo, I feel like I have been mainlining that sadness for the last five hundred miles. Because from the moment I met Ezekiel Reyes, I did not see it coming. It’s not that there weren’t red flags as with all the other boys. But he had a way of making it seem like they were all a force of circumstance. Gee, how did those get there? Someone must have put those up when I wasn’t looking. He was sensitive, compassionate, smarter than anyone I had ever met, and troubled in a way he seemed not to be responsible for.

I should have trusted my instincts. I should have listened to my mother’s advice. But EZ Reyes is also one of the best liars I have ever known. People who lie best are the ones who believe the lie first themselves. That is what he did. It was easy. So it was easy to believe him.

On the road, when it gets dark, I start to see his eyes like they were the last time I saw him. They are every pair of headlights in the rear view mirror: two voids with a kind of frigid, lifeless pain inside. Any echo of the love between us snuffed out, washed away, sterilized like a surgeon’s scalpel. Nevermind that candle in my heart might have burned for him forever. But it seems we do not love the same way.

One of my hands comes off the wheel to touch the spot at my ribs on the left side where he had held the gun. A shot I would have never seen coming, were it not for Angel’s screaming and tackling us both to the ground, shoving me away, telling me to run as fast as I could and never look back. If only I had fallen for that big lug instead of Ezekiel. But that one wore his red flags on his sleeve, screamed them from a mile away. That honesty I misjudged as a warning was really an asset. Porque Angel no podía mentir una mierda, ni siquiera a sí mismo. But we cannot help who we love.

Wiping sweat from my forehead, I pass a mile marker and then a bigger sign: eleven miles to Albuquerque. Good because Angel’s check engine light has turned on and I need gas. I drag my hand across my forehead again. Leave it to Angel to have a car with no AC. Well, no. I remind myself I’m no fool. The car probably wasn’t his. They would’ve stolen it before they got to the hospital.

The sun has been beating down on me through the driver’s side window, relentless and my face is so damp, I can’t seem to tell the difference between the sweat and the tears that periodically drop down to dot my cheeks. I stopped bothering to wipe those all the way back in Tucson. The dust has stuck to them too, so the skin on my face is stiff and my lips have a grainy feel to them. There is something about it that I like, that feels tangible. Algo sobre la tierra en mis lágrimas es un consuelo, y en mi dolor me hice sentir menos sola.

My cellphone buzzes in my bag. Low battery. It is a miracle it has lasted this long. Perhaps my last tether to civilization, I wonder if I shouldn’t let it die and disappear from my old life completely. No, with Mamá back home there is no old or new life. I escaped Santo Padre with the only one I have. Angel said he would get word to her, let her know I was okay, tell her where I was going. A place I didn’t even know.

Once I hit the city limits, I reach in my pocket and pull out the crinkled cardboard pack, an empty cigarette box Angel had hastily scribbled an Albuquerque address on. I triple check to make sure I have remembered it correctly, then take the fourth exit.

𖤓

After I left Angel and EZ, grappling with each other on that hilltop by the hospital, I went to Mercedes’ house to hole up. It was a dingy little duplex not far from the hospital but EZ didn’t know where it was and that’s what mattered. It was kind of funny. I had not expected Angel to follow up, texting me, asking if I was okay, where I was. But he did. Even after I told him, I had not expected him to do anything with that information, certainly not stop by or send someone. But he did. So, when a knock came at the front door, in a frenzy, I lurched off the couch and lunged for the baseball bat that I’d taken from the coat closet earlier and set against the front door before dozing off. Glancing through the peephole, I half expected to see EZ's cold, hard eyes, peering back at me across the threshold of warped glass. Mercifully, it was somebody else. Someone I didn’t recognize. Judging by the kutte over his hoodie and the large black script inked on his neck that spelled Mayans, another proud member of the club. Someone I had not met before. He stood in front of the door, hood up, hands clasped in front of him at attention, almost like a bouncer at a nightclub but without the air of compensation. On the contrary, he was at ease, almost serene when I swung open the screen door, wild-eyed and bat in hand. “Are you Gaby?” He'd barely batted an eye. I nodded slowly. “Angel sent me with some stuff for you.” I furrowed my brow, suspicious but too frazzled to form words. “Yeah, uh— He wanted to deliver this himself, but homie had to take care of that trifling, mocoso cagado brother of his, chase that motherfucker back down to Santo Padre. But I stuck around, so he sent me instead.” He extended his hand. “I’m Manny.” With some hesitation, I set the bat down and shook his hand, then motioned to allow him inside. He refused, head rattling from side to side. “Nah, I don’t— I can’t stay long. Just wanted to give you these.” He held out the crumpled cigarette box and the keys to 'Angel’s' car, dropping them in the palm of my hand. Through tears that I wasn’t even aware had begun to fall, I joked tiredly, “So, I narrowly escape getting killed by the love of my life and Angel thinks I’m ready to take up smoking?” “Yea, right? Guess when you cheat death, seems as good a time as any to pick up a habit that causes terminal illness.” Manny stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets and leaned against the doorway, eyes cast down, chuckling at the ground. “Nah, actually there’s an address on it. A guy we know in New Mexico from a job Yuma and Santo Padre did with him a while back. His people’ll take care of you.” “Who is it?” “His name— well, he’s a guy who’s connected enough in Mexico that EZ can’t come after you there. Y’know, bad for business.” With a knowing smirk, he tipped his head, “Si me sientes.” There seemed a reluctance to say this man’s name outright but I couldn't understand why. Oh, right. Connected in Mexico. One of the cartels. So more of that then. Standing in the doorway with my arms crossed, at the manic pace only akin to that of an animal backed into a corner, I evaluated the options presented to me now. Could this truly be my only one? Something else my mother used to say was already at the tip of my tongue. “Lo peligroso que es ser una mujer enamorada.”** I began to cry harder now and Manny’s head snapped back up to look at me. “Aw easy now, ma,” he said gently, stepping closer to brush a tear from my cheek with the back of his hand. “Todo estará bien.” I nodded weakly before choking out through something that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, “I know this is a weird question but— pero ya puedes abrazarme?” He smiled softly, stepping back with open arms, and the moment my head hit the shoulder of this kind stranger, I came apart at the seams.

𖤓

It had only been two days on the road but the writing on the cigarette package is already faded, probably from so much time spent folded up in the pocket of my jeans.

6611 Zuni Rd SE,

Albuquerque, NM

ask 4 grumpyass mf named Varga

I am not sure why I bother to keep looking at it when I have the address memorized, seared in my brain because I had charted my route the old fashioned way, on a map I got from a gas station back in Lodi. A measure that seems silly now given that my phone is still somehow clinging to life.

I pull into the parking lot of 6611 Zuni Road and slide into an open spot, of which there are many. Business does not appear to be booming. In quaint, Hot-Rod red cursive along the top of the building, it reads “Tapizados, Custom Upholstery, Reparación.” Auto upholstery. As good a front as any, I suppose.

My nerves are fried and the entrance of the shop taunts me while I stare at it, trying to figure out how to smoke out this Varga. It would’ve been helpful to have more than just a name. Was it a first? A last? Based on what little was in the note, Varga could be a woman for all I know. Although Manny had specifically said it was a guy. Tracing the hastily scribbled address on the wilted cardboard, I am filled with warmth, reminded of my gratitude to Angel for doing the best he could with what he had. I can do the rest. I simply have to.

A broken bell clangs pitifully as the door of the shop closes behind me. It is empty of customers and seemingly, anyone who might work there. There is another bell on the counter and I wonder if that one is broken too. If it isn’t, with the Norteño music blaring in a room in the back with a bunch of tables with sewing machines, I wonder if anyone would hear it. Before I get a chance to find out, two men in matching uniforms arguing in the parking lot outside catch my attention. Partly because they’re arguing but largely because they both seem to be wearing matching uniforms, an indication yes, someone indeed ran this fine establishment and didn’t leave it to the norteño corridos to manage.

An older man with a thick, dark head of hair and a dark mustache alternates between pinching his forehead and speaking through gritted teeth to a younger man with hair buzzed so short, he looks almost bald, whose back is turned to me. Mustache man looks to be the boss and when the other man steps aside for a moment, I spot the name on his shirt. M. Varga. Simón! Él es un gruñón de verdad like Angel said. He looks just like another gruñón I know too. In fact, if his hair wasn’t so dark, I might have actually mistaken him for Felipe Reyes. He shared the same proud nose, perpetually furrowed brow, and lines etched deep into his forehead that say he’s had someone important to worry about for a very long time. Who was this Varga’s someone?

More heated now, Señor Varga points to the building and I think I can make out the words 'vuelve ahí dentro' coming out of his mouth. Exasperated, the younger, short-haired man throws his hands on his hips and tips his head back, as if pleading with the sky but whatever the old man has said trumps his silent negotiation with the Above. Varga throws him a set of keys and shoos him in the direction of the shop before stalking off back to the garage.

It takes me too long to realize I am staring. The short-haired guy makes it to the sidewalk in front of the windows, but by then it is too late to play it off like I’m just a clueless customer. Swinging my purse from one shoulder to the other, I attempt to anyway, and turn to examine the fabric swatches hanging on the walls and the stand full of pamphlets about “The Wonders of Kaptex!” and “Chrome-Tanned Whole Cowhides!” leafing through as if I know what I am looking at. The look of confusion on my face is the only honest thing about it. I have no idea what I am doing here, in more ways than one.

The short-haired man walks in, sighing heavily as the broken bell claps against the door handle, making another pitiful, pinched sound. It is not until he turns around to put something in the register that I finally see the name on his uniform. I. Varga.

Qué se chinga, of course there is two of them. Of course.

I nearly tear the cigarette box yanking it out of my pocket to study it again in the hopes I have missed some detail, some clue Angel might have left to differentiate the two Vargas. But no. There it sits, staring back at me, the same phrase I’ve read repeatedly, over and over and over: Ask 4 grumpyass mf named Varga. The qualifier doesn’t even help. They both seem equally grumpy. Could I just ask? Would Angel or Manny have thought ahead to let this Varga know I was coming?

A voice cuts through my panic. “‘Scuse me, miss? Something I can help you with?”

My head snaps up to meet a look of cool intensity from the younger Varga. He was younger sure, but I couldn’t venture a guess as to how old he might really be because even asking the most mundane of questions, there is something heavy in the tone of his voice and a weariness in his eyes that betray the gaze of a boy aged beyond his years by forces out of his control. I know this look. I am well acquainted with this look, yes. The headlights in the rearview mirror on the drive here flash in my mind. But there is a softness in this one’s eyes that I don’t remember EZ having. Not even in the beginning. By the time I finally understood, it would do me no good, but everything about Ezekiel Reyes was hard. And always had been.

All of a sudden, I am self-conscious, unsure of how long I’ve been standing there, not saying a word in response. Taking a deep breath, I finally open my mouth to answer, but instead of words, what comes out is some kind of throttled sigh.

“Prefieres que hablamos en español?” He is polite but with enough of an edge of impatience that it does nothing to distinguish him as the less grumpy of the two Vargas.

“A mí no me importa,” I shrug, trying my best to seem casual. “Puedo hablar de los dos.”

“O sí? Pues la podría preguntarte de nuevo pero ya sabrás que es la misma en ambos.”

Maybe this Varga is more prickly than grumpy. Would Angel know the difference? Probably not.

“Hmm,” I hum. He seems skeptical, so I switch to English. Two can play this game. “Huh? Yes. Yeah. Actually yes. I need- I’m looking for someone na—“ I start heading toward the counter but in the process, my purse swings to one side, knocking over the wire display of pamphlets. Varga is nice enough to come around from the counter to help me pick them up off the ground, even if he is chuckling to himself at my expense.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what-” I pause, closing my eyes, searching for the words. “I have not slept much. I just came here all the way from California and did not make many stops.”

Varga picks up the last of the pamphlets and with a resigned smirk on his face, offers his hand. “Ah, well, you wouldn’t be the only person to end up in ABQ who’s running from something.” I accept and he pulls me to my feet.

On his way back around the counter, he shoots me the look of a parent worried their kid is going to tear through the candy aisle at the grocery store. Pointing to a technicolor display of stacked, neatly wrapped, little trees, I laugh. “Oh, not the car fresheners. It looks like someone went to a lot of trouble to make these look nice,” I tease, holding up my hands in defeat. “I’ll keep my distance.”

Varga shakes his head, suppressing a laugh like he doesn’t want me to know I have said anything he’d find funny. He resumes doing whatever he was doing at the register. Not sure what to do with myself, I just stand there, watching him, moving the cash trays to the back counter, industriously counting the bills, scribbling in some kind of ledger. Without turning to look at me, he calls out, “So, you were saying?”

“Sorry?”

“You were about to say you were looking for someone right before you decided to go full Jenga with my pamphlets over there.”

“Oh,” I blow a puff of hair out of my lips, sending stray pieces of hair that have fallen out of my ponytail floating above my forehead. Glancing around the empty store, something in me snaps and I decide. Why not? What is the worst that could happen? I say the wrong thing to the wrong person and they kill me for it? They’d have to get in line. I am already on borrowed time and dancing around the issue might only serve to end that time. Entonces a la verga con esa chingadera. So I shoot my shot. The contact my hand makes as it smacks down on the counter with the mangled cigarette box is loud enough to surprise Varga. He stops and spins around.

“Alright, I have danced with death,” I hold my index finger and thumb up together and squint my eyes, “once this week already. I have also been driving for two days straight. I am exhausted. And you know what? Truthfully, I have never been good at this– hmm, what is it called? Playing my cards close to the chest? I never had to be. So, I'm going to come right out and say it. My name is Gaby Castillo. I came here from Lodi, California. My ex-boyfriend is EZ Reyes from the Santo Padre chapter of the Mayans motorcycle club. Two days ago,” the lump in my throat hurts as I swallow it, but still choke up despite myself, “he tried to kill me. His brother, Angel Reyes, told me to lie low here in case he tried to come after me again.”

Instead of the appropriate shock one would express at the stream of insanity I just blurted out to a perfect stranger, he seems entirely undisturbed. Just as I'm about to give over to reassurance at his calmness, it all at once becomes more jarring that he has no reaction. My heart kicks up, pounding so rapidly, I wonder if it’s visible from the outside, if he can see it's picked up speed.

Aggravated by the silence, I snap my fingers in front of his face, grumbling, “Uh, hello? Does any of this sound familiar?”

Face impassive, he crosses his arms and just keeps staring at me before finally breaking the silence with one infuriating word. “Vest.”

“Mm? Pardon?”

“You said chest. You meant vest.”

He is like a brick wall. I am still not getting it.

“You meant vest. You said,” he flattens his hand bringing it down to punctuate the end of each phrase, “‘playing your cards close to the chest.’ The expression is ‘playing your cards close to the vest.’ Like back in the day, old guys playing Poker in saloons and shit.”

How dumb must I look, standing there, eyes narrowed, mouth gaping open in disbelief that we are calmly discussing grammar after everything I said? The motorcycle club? The attempted murder? I can only imagine. He does not even seem to notice. What’s more infuriating, he turns back around to the money trays and the ledger and continues talking at me like that. “Yeah, yeah, I got a call from Manny, told me someone was coming. I remember those Reyes brothers too. One of them’s a wiseass and one of them’s a dipstick. Which one almost killed you?”

Poor Angel. My cheeks are burning and my chest floods with indignation on his behalf. “Angel is not a di–” the word is new to me and comes out of my mouth clumsy, “dip-ssstick.”

Varga’s shoulders rattle as he chuckles, “So it was the dipstick,” nodding to himself like he’s just shared some private joke that he happens to also find hilarious.

I roll my eyes and turn my back to him so I can lean against the counter. My head sinks back to look at the ceiling and now I’m the one who’s pleading with the sky. “No, it wasn’t the d– no, not Angel. He’s the one who saved me, told me to come here for help. Not that I would call,” I wave my hand around at nothing in particular, “whatever this has been, 'help.'”

Varga says nothing, so I continue. “No, it was the other one. Ezekiel. EZ. He’s the one who– well.” I stop, my thoughts invaded again by Ezekiel's eyes in the headlights, this time mixed with flashes of that night on the beach. How soft and gentle his fingertips were on my shoulders. How cold the barrel of his gun felt pressed into my side. Tears begin streaking from the corners of my eyes. With my head back like that, they drip down across my temples and into my hairline.

Another pair of fingertips gently brushes my shoulder. I jerk forward violently and turn around to see Varga on the other side of the counter, with his hands up, as if to say, 'oh god, don’t shoot.'

“Hey, look. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so— such a dick. I forget what it’s like for people not—” he wavers, running his hand up and down the back of his head, searching for the words, “well, normal people. People not in our business.”

I scoff, "Normal. That's funny, normal."

He looks at me perplexed, waiting for me to clarify. But I can't even begin. So, staring at the air fresheners almost catatonic, I simply say, "Normal is not what I feel."

Varga seems to accept this well enough because he starts putting the cash trays back in the register and locks them up with the ledger. On his way back around the counter, he grabs his car keys and motions for me to follow him. “C’mon.”

He stops at the door once he realizes I am not following him. More speaking to the door than to me, he calls out, “Yo, you coming or what?”

“Coming? Coming where?”

In an oddly graceful gesture, he spins around, arms swinging, coming to rest on his hips, as he tips one out to the side. “You like milkshakes?”

“Do I like—?”

“Milkshakes. Y'know, milk, ice cream, they blend it all up with like chocolate or strawberry or confetti sprinkles or whatever sugary shit people like. How do we feel about them.”

“I mean—” I shrug. “Who doesn’t like milkshakes.”

“Great.” He nods, with a small smile on his face that reaches his eyes for the first time. It softens his otherwise prickly demeanor, exposing a charm so authentic in its self consciousness, it is plain to see he doesn’t smile with true joy often. Something clicks just then and it occurs to me: what if he’s the someone the senior Varga, M. Varga, has had to worry about all these years? He turns back around, grabbing the door handle. “Let’s get a milkshake.”

“Wait.”

I watch his shoulders rise and fall, an unmistakable sigh of frustration. A reaction I immediately resent. “Hey.” I cross my arms. “No mames, hombre. Like it is unreasonable for me to be uncertain about letting a perfect stranger take me to some unknown location, in a town I have never been to before, for a mystery milkshake.”

Turning back around, he strolls slowly over to me, smirking and fiddling with his keys. “Mystery milkshake, huh?"

Still unamused, my eyebrows are halfway up my forehead. I wait.

“Yeah alright, you got me there. But I think I’ve got a solution for that. You said your name's Gaby, right?” I bob my head once and he holds out his hand. “My name’s Nacho.” He seems to take notice of my eyes darting to the name tag on his uniform. “Well, Ignacio, but no one calls me that.” Leaning forward, voice dropping low and quiet, he pleads like it’s a secret. “Yeah, please don’t call me that, seriously.”

I can’t help but smile, accepting his hand. Though firm, it's also warm and softer than I expect, sending goosebumps up my forearm that take me by surprise.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” I beam at him, our hands moving up and down in tandem, "Señor Not-Ignacio Varga.”

“Oh good,” he says, smile deflating slightly as he cocks an eyebrow. “Another comedian. Remind me never to introduce you to Lalo.”

It seems I’m already treading dangerous ground, but that only makes me beam at him more. “Who is Lalo? And why should you never to introduce us?”

“Pues,” he looks me up and down, assessing me before rolling his eyes, “hay muchas razones pero la primera? Eres demasiado guapa y chistosa para conocer a un hombre peligroso así. But he’d sure think you’re— I dunno, something.”

O, demasiado guapa? Nacho is becoming more interesting by the minute. “Hmm, well–," I muse as he turns to open the door. "And what does Not-Ignacio think?”

He shoots me a look like don’t go there through half lidded eyes. It is the first time I notice how long his eyelashes are. Tú eres guapísimo también. He seems like the type to not really know it. Or at least, the type to be unconcerned with it anyway. Of course it’s just a hunch, but for some reason it warms me to him even more. Nothing like the Reyes boys. Well, except Felipe, who had never seemed especially preoccupied with his appearance.

“Okay, okay,” I put my hands up, “last time, I swear. So, what does Nacho think?”

“I think...” he takes a long pause while holding the door open for me, scratching his head like he is considering the question with genuine sincerity. “I think ..... thaaat it’s time for a milkshake.”

Stepping outside into the simmering Albuquerque sun, it is my turn to roll my eyes. But for some reason, I decide to up the anti by crinkling my nose and sticking my tongue out at him like a petulant child. Maybe it’s the sleeplessness, or maybe it’s just nice to talk to someone after 3 days of running. On the road alone. He laughs at me, letting the door slam shut, and waves me over, in the direction of his car.

Despite my pretend annoyance, I walk around to the passenger’s side of Nacho Varga’s car and a feeling hits me as suddenly as a flashbulb of an old camera: relief. For the first time since I left Lodi, I finally feel like I just might be okay.

As it turns out, I am right. I would be okay. Just not before all hell breaks loose.

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taglist: @narcolini

#Gabrielle Castillo x Ignacio “Nacho” Varga #gaby castillo #nacho varga #better call saul #mayans mc #crossover AU pairing #rarepairs exchange 2023 #shockingly not narcos mexico #ignacio nacho varga #yoyoyo #148- 3 to the 3 #to the 6 to the 9 #representing the ABQ #whaaaddup biatc????#leave it at the tone

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thirdsonofeve · 9 months

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I finally finished my first Domingo/Nacho fic!!!

Dreams of Strings and Threads (858 words) by Flying_Potatismos Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Better Call Saul (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Domingo "Krazy-8" Molina/Ignacio "Nacho" Varga Characters: Domingo "Krazy-8" Molina, Ignacio "Nacho" Varga Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - College/University, Pillow Talk, Loss of Virginity, Homophobic Language, Slurs, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Explination in notes Summary: In a different universe Domingo got to go to Berklee college of music. He's lucky his best friend likes long drives.

(Note: you must be logged in on ao3 to read it)

#domingo molina #nacho varga #I just think everything in the brba universe would be okay if Domingo had just gone to the college of his choice

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aspen-tanner · 2 years

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[ michelle rodriguez | she/her | 41 ] rumor has it that carina rosa vargas has been seen wandering around town. they are a witch who is one of the survivors. they are known to be stoic but deep down they are disciplined. when it comes to the brewing conflict in new orleans they’re on the side of the unaffiliated.

BASICS

Name: Carina Soraya Rosa Vargas Nicknames/Alias: Nina Face Claim: Michelle Rodriguez Age: 41 Gender: Female Sexuality: Heterosexual Date/Place of Birth: March 31, 1988 in New Orleans, LA Currently: New Orleans, LA Nationality/Species: Puerto Rican Occupation: Police Officer/Former Navy Rank: K-9 Unit/Lieutenant Junior Grade (Up for Lieutenant promotion when she decided to retire) and Former Naval Pilot

PERSONALITY

Positives/Virtues:

disciplined

conscientious

adventurous

dependable

loyal

daring

resilient

courageous

Flaws/Weaknesses:

stoic

aggressive

perfectionist

judgmental

combative

competitive

stubborn

blunt

Moral Alignment: Chaotic good.

RELATIONSHIPS

Parents: Fillipe Rosa (Father) Marisol Vargas (Mother) Siblings: Ramona Vargas (Older Sister) Children: Ignacio “Iggy” Christian Ramirez (20-year-old Son) Other family: Taelor Kittredge (26-year-old Niece), Sig (11-year-old Retired Police K9, German Shepherd), Charlie (12-year-old Retired Military K9, Doberman Pinscher), Apollo (1-year-old Current Police K9 Partner, German Shepherd) Spouse: N/A Current Partner: N/A Ex-Partners: Unnamed Ramirez (Ex-Husband) Boss/Employer: TBD Co-Workers: Dex Vane (Homicide Department), Ryker Bradenton (Homicide Department) Friends: Cecelia Cordeaux (Coven Member) Enemies: TBD

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION

Build: 5′5″ 120 lbs Muscular Hair Colour: Black Eye Colour: Dark Brown Distinguishing Marks: Scars from bullet wounds in her shoulder, chest and thigh, Small scar on her forehead and a scar across her hip from being blown by a blast during her time over sea and catching shrapnel, couple of tattoos scattering her body

Accomplishments: Ignacio, Becoming a pilot with the Navy, Retiring as Lieutenant Junior Grade and being offered Lieutenant rank before she retired from the Navy

Regrets: TBD Secrets: TBD

HISTORY

Carina was born a year after her older sister and highly adored her, wanting to follow her around on all of her adventures being an adventurous soul herself, though she tended to find a balance between being her more serious side and her rick-taking daredevil side. She was always focused on her studies and learning as much as she possibly could between both school and witchcraft. Her strikingly balanced personality led her to joining the Navy upon graduating high school, meeting a man a little after finishing boot camp and beginning her pilot training. The pair fell in love quickly and married within 2 years before welcoming a son into their lives a year after getting married. Her dream career of being pilot suddenly vanishing as she held that little bundle of joy for the first time. After 2 years of being a pilot with the Navy, Carina put in to be transferred state-side in order to be able to be home with her son more often than not. She transferred into the military police force, being stationed at the Naval Air Station in New Orleans as she raised her son pretty much by herself as her husband continued doing tours overseas.

As the years rolled on, Carina found that her relationship with her husband was beginning to become strained, distant even, as the distance that continued to remain between them began to put the two at odds as she tried constantly to talk him into coming home, to transfer departments as she had to be with his family, his wife and son, but to no avail. A few months ago, Carina finally filed for divorce, tired of the constant fighting whenever he was home and not talking as much as they used to while he was away. She moved through the ranks in the Navy rather smoothly and easily, determined and competitive enough to put her everything into her job (and her son), before deciding to retire once her divorce was finalized, turning down the offer of Lieutenant rank and joining the police force, wanting to get away from the life she had once had and wanting to start anew with her now grown son.

#ffh.intro

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seraphtrevs · 2 years

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I voted with my heart and went for Nachito, but like, in a menacing way, like “You’ve got some explaining to do, Nachito.”

#probably going to be ignacio #but hey s6 has so far made all of my dreams come true so who knows!#nacho varga #lalo salamanca #lacho #bcs spoilers

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queen-of-nightmare-16 · 4 years

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So I had a dream last night that I was at one of Don Eladio’s parties and I kissed Nacho.

Had to lie in bed in silence for like five minutes to process it because it felt so real.

Safe to say I think I just had the BEST DREAM EVER!😅

#better call saul #nacho varga #don eladio #bcs #breaking bad universe #dream #kiss #he’s so hot #he’s so fucking gorgeous #best dream ever #hot damn #ignacio varga

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heftbyjapanesebreakfast · 2 years

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i dedicate this one to my beloved ignacio varga

#this and also missing my baby by selena and no me queda más 😞💔#m #bcs spoilers #Spotify

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huesos-sangrientos · 3 years

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Thank you very much @lizwontcry 💙💙🍻💙💙

1: What colour are your eyes?

Sometimes green, Sometimes blue - Blue-Green

2: What little thing tells you someone is good?

When they go out of their way to show kindness to others (especially if they have nothing to gain from it)... Idk.

3: Do you have a recurring dream?

Yes. It's a really odd one, I'm never myself in this dream.

4: What is the most interesting class you have taken?

Public Speaking class where I had to give a speech in the middle of a bar. (This was both traumatizing and fun at the same time.)

5: How often do you daydream?

So much that I should probably seek some form of therapy for it. 😁 - Over used coping mechanism.

6: Name/nickname:

On Tumblr: Bloody Bones

7: Height

5' 3"

8: Languages?

Barely English, and I want to learn Spanish

9: Nationality

Ye ol states

10: Favourite season

Fall/ Autumn

11: Favourite colour

Navy Blue

12: Favourite animals

Sharks, bats, jelly fish, cats, dogs, squirrels, owls .. I like them all. 💙🍻

13: Tea, coffee or hot chocolate?

Coffee... Always coffee.

14: Are you a dog or cat person?

Both. (Though I have a clear bias for my Pumpkin)

15: How many blankets do you sleep with?

Two fuzzy ones.

16: A random fact about you

I am in the middle of a mid-life crisis. 😊 Also I used to be a tire technician.

17: Three ships

Walt/Jesse, Bryan/Aaron, Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca/Ignacio "Nacho" Varga

18: Last song

Green Day - Good Riddance in the shower

19: Last movie

Probably an old fashioned horror flick...(It been a while since I've watched a movie)

20: Currently reading

Muscle Memory 💙

21: Currently watching

Rewatching Breaking Bad

22: Currently craving

A new career and having time to write.

Tagging anyone who see this and wants to do it. 💙😊🍻

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alpineshepherdbadboy · 4 years

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Chapter Title: Nacho From 5 to 7

Chapters: 1/7 Fandom: Better Call Saul (TV) Rating: Explicit Relationships: Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca/Ignacio "Nacho" Varga, Ignacio "Nacho" Varga/Amber (Better Call Saul)/Jo (Better Call Saul), Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca/OMC, Amber (Better Call Saul)/Jo (Better Call Saul)

Chapter summary: Nacho gets high, does some navel-gazing, and has a frightful dream.

The first chapter of my lacho week fic!

#lachoweek2020 #it's midnight so i'm counting it!#lalo salamanca #nacho varga #bcs #better call saul #my fic

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othersportsnews-blog · 7 years

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Tigres and Pachuca headline Liga MXs Pre Apertura Power Rankings

New Post has been published on https://othersportsnews.com/tigres-and-pachuca-headline-liga-mxs-pre-apertura-power-rankings/

Tigres and Pachuca headline Liga MXs Pre Apertura Power Rankings

As Keisuke Honda’s dream go at AC Milan arrived to an end, questions occur whether or not Pachuca is a superior in shape.

Pachuca’s new signing Keisuke Honda insists that his new club ought to make him feel appreciated to get the finest out of him.

Liga MX is about to begin one more exhilarating year, wherever 10 clubs have Mexican supervisors, though the other eight are led by foreigners. This year will be a superior a single to evaluate younger, new Mexican coaches like Lobos BUAP’s Rafael Puente Jr. and Puebla’s Rafael “Chiquis” Garcia. Queretaro’s Jaime Lozano, who took in excess of for Victor Manuel Vucetich in Week five of past year, has experienced an total preseason to prepare the workforce, so his stamp will be clearer this time all around.

Below are Liga MX’s Pre-Apertura Power Rankings:

one. TIGRES UANL

In Carson, California, Chile’s Eduardo Vargas gave a worthwhile overall performance, which involved a purpose that helped Tigres conquer Chivas in the Campeon de Campeones match. With the addition of Ecuadorian striker, Enner Valencia, Tigres now have an insatiable attack with Valencia, Vargas and Andre-Pierre Gignac. On the other hand, they will need to have to come across the adequate replacement to fill in the void remaining by Guido Pizarro.

2. PACHUCA

Just one of Los Tuzos‘ most essential youth solutions, Hirving “Chucky” Lozano, will be missed. But you can find no time for lament, and Pachuca have brought in players of the caliber of Edson Puch and Keisuke Honda, who will hold Pachuca as a single of the most explosive groups in Liga MX.

3. MONTERREY

Los Rayados brought in Aviles Hurtado and Jorge Benitez to raise their attack. Monterrey’s achievement will be established by how great the Colombian tandem of Dorlan Pabon and Hurtado can quite possibly convert out to be.

four. CHIVAS

The defending champions, Chivas, will be place to the take a look at early on in the year with no striker Alan Pulido, who will be out for most of the standard year with a broken arm. Essential players like Orbelin Pineda and Rodolfo Pizarro are still with Mexico’s Gold Cup workforce, which indicates that manager Matias Almeyda may possibly be providing substantial participating in time to younger, enjoyable, academy prospective customers out of the gate.

Chivas will have it all to do to repeat, particularly after Alan Pulido’s arm personal injury.

five. SANTOS LAGUNA

Led by Mexican youngsters Gael Sandoval, Ulises Rivas, Gerardo Arteaga and Jorge Sanchez, Los Guerreros will attempt to boost past season’s point total by upping their wins, and settling for less draws.

six. TOLUCA

Toluca held on to the same block of players that got them to past season’s semifinals their main addition was Argentine defender, Santiago Garcia, who just lately performed at Bundesliga outfit Werder Bremen. In the recent Liguilla, Rubens Sambueza was the team’s most perilous participant, but he definitely did not get a lot support from his teammates.

seven. CLUB TIJUANA

There should really be expectancy around Xolos and their new manager, Eduardo “Chacho” Coudet. The club is restarting yet again, but the hope is that it can continue remaining aggressive. New striker Gustavo Bou will be a single of the players to abide by at the begin of the year.

eight. CLUB The usa

Miguel “Piojo” Herrera is back again, but the workforce did really tiny to replenish its attack. Guido Rodriguez heads into the Apertura as the club’s major select-up, and with no a question, it will be essential to have Paraguayan Cecilio Dominguez in shape as before long as probable. Dominguez and seventeen-yr-old Diego Lainez could convert into Las Aguilas‘ best attacking solutions.

9. ATLAS

Milton Caraglio, who past year performed with Tijuana, is Atlas’ new wager in the striker place. Caraglio is characterized for his superior aerial sport, and with whole-backs who are sharp with their crosses like Luis Reyes and Jose Maduena, this wager may possibly perform out for Los Rojinegros.

ten. MORELIA

Trying to keep Raul Ruidiaz, who was named Liga MX’s finest participant at its current awards ceremony, presents a enormous raise to Morelia’s ambitions on acquiring back again-to-back again playoff appearances. With that remaining explained, seeing Monarcas reach the playoffs will be a enormous shock, as was past year.

Raul Ruidiaz was the participant of the yr in Mexico past year and could guide upstart Morelia to a shock year.

11. QUERETARO

Younger manager Jaime Lozano will need to have to come across the right XI right away in purchase to make Queretaro into a aggressive side. Considering that the 2015 Clausura when Los Gallos surprisingly arrived at the final, the workforce has skilled a ton of dysfunction, primarily simply because it has been unable to come across the right, aggressive XI.

12. PUMAS UNAM

For Pumas admirers, it ought to be tough to get fired up in excess of newcomers like Mauro Formica or Joffre Guerron, but acquiring Abraham Gonzalez and Nicolas Castillo fully in shape ought to raise their hopes. This will be the 3rd year with Francisco Palencia as head coach, and the workforce should really clearly show enhancements, particularly in the protection.

13. CRUZ AZUL

In Cruz Azul, you can find total support of Paco Jemez’s coaching ways, but if you can find no optimistic final results after the 1st six months, all sirens will go off.

fourteen. LEON Even though La Fiera hasn’t experienced a chaotic offseason, Javier Torrente’s workforce still includes the main actors that led Leon to a semifinal end in the 2016 Apertura. With a healthy Alexander Mejia, Leon will be a challenging side to conquer.

Colombian Alexander Mejia provides some bite to a Leon midfield that could definitely use some toughness.

15. NECAXA

Edson Puch’s departure cuts Necaxa’s offensive risk. Puch became the club’s main attacker in these a quick time, and now with new manager Ignacio Ambriz, changing to everyday living with no the Chilean attacker will be the manager’s 1st objective to total.

sixteen. VERACRUZ

Head coach Juan Antonio Luna experienced all summertime to prepare the squad. This time all around, Luna will not occur in in the center of the year to preserve the workforce from chaos and can aim on major his time from the jump.

seventeen. LOBOS BUAP

While this will be Lobos BUAP’s 1st year in the Mexico’s firs division, they will begin in advance of their local archrivals, Puebla, simply because they experienced a additional thriving offseason. Lobos’ summertime select-ups offer additional optimism than people of founded Puebla.

eighteen. PUEBLA

Following quite a few years as Ricardo La Volpe’s assistant, Rafael “Chiquis” Garcia will make his managerial debut in the 1st division. All people times studying from La Volpe will be place to the take a look at with a workforce with a combination of veterans and unidentified foreigners.

Nayib Moran handles Liga MX and the Mexican nationwide workforce for ESPN FC. Twitter: @nayibmoran.

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peoplearecrazy132-blog · 7 years

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Fernando Amorsolo

was born in Paco, Mla died 1972 (Landscapes, genre, portraits, murals). Natl Artist in painting. One of the first graduates of the UP School of Fine Arts, 1919. Spent youthful days in Daet, Camarines Norte. When his father died, the family lived with his mother’s first cousin, painter Fabian dela Rosa. Completed schooling at Liceo de Mla, with honors in drawing and painting . Influenced by Spanish painter Diego de Velasquez and European painters Sargent , Zorn, Sorolla, and Zuloaga. Worked as draftsman at the Public Works, and chief artist at Pacific Commercial Advtg. Taught at UP for 38 years, and served as its director from 1938-1952. In 1916, recd grant from entrepreneur Enrique Zobel de Ayala to visit Spain, Europe, and the US, and view the art works there. In his peak years, exhibited both in the Phil and abroad, including NY and Belgium. Also did illustrations for children’s textbook and novels, commercial designs, cartoons for and illustrations for and His canvases popularized the image of the beautiful and modest Filipina maiden showing no sign of wear and tear from work and the tropical weather. Was the first to extensively portray traditional Filipino customs and manners, fiestas, and occupations like fishing, planting , going to market, washing laundry, cooking, and reading. Also did a series of historical canvases on pre-colonial scenes, such as < Early Filipino State Wedding,> and as well as events surrounding the colonizationof the Phil, such as < The First Mass in the Philippines.> Did three life-size paintings for the Phil Pavilion at the 1931 Paris Expo. His works, reproduced in many textbooks and calendars, shaped the visual imagination of many generations of Filipino children. Is credited with having captured the elusive quality of Phil light, using the technique of backlighting, where the figures are situated against the light, thus outlining them with a golden glow. When a new generation of Filipino painters wanted to break new paths , in took the form of a revolt against the Amorsolo school, which had been dominant for at least three decades. Modernism arose largely as a reaction to Amorsolo’s style. He and sculptor Guillermo Tolentino were the objects of a diatribe led by such moderns as Victorio Edades and Galo Ocampo. Honors recd: Outstanding UP Alumnus award, 1940; the Rizal Pro-Patria award, 1961; Patnubay ng Sining, 1972. In 1973, became the first artist to be proclaimed natl artist by the govt. [CCP Vol IV-R.B. Javellana & AG]*** Amorsolo’s works have a lasting beauty. He is unquestionable the dean of Filipino painters. His versatility is particularly noted for the artistry of his touches in light and shadow. In 1972, some of his paintings were exhibited at the Grand Central Galleries of NY, where they recd highest praise from critics. Although influenced by the prolific Spanish classicist Ignacio Zuloaga, he developed his own distinctive style. To many people to possess an Amorsolo is the fulfillment of a dream. [Mobilways Vol 1 No 2 Oct 1955]***Amorsolo’s < Resting in the Shade > portrays a sun-flooded area enveloping the figures, a sharp contrast of light and shade. The rustic scene in the master’s characteristics style embodies the young, slender and shapely of feminine beauty he favored, and evokes the serenity and casual grace that Amorsolo paintings are famous for. [ FC- Countryside Banking Vol VII No 12 Dec 1981].

Early life and education

Don Fabián de la Rosa, his mother's cousin was also a Filipino painter. At the age of 13, Amorsolo became an apprentice to De la Rosa, who would eventually become the advocate and guide to Amorsolo's painting career. During this time, Amorsolo's mother embroidered to earn money, while Amorsolo helped by selling water color postcards to a local bookstore for ten centavos each. Amorsolo's brother, Pablo Amorsolo, was also a painter. Amorsolo's first success as a young painter came in 1908, when his painting Leyendo el periódico took second place at the Bazar Escolta, a contest organized by the Asociacion Internacional de Artistas. Between 1909 and 1914, Amorsolo enrolled at the Art School of the Liceo de Manila.After graduating from the Liceo, he entered the University of the Philippines' School of Fine Arts, where De la Rosa worked at the time. During college, Fernando Amorsolo's primary influences were the Spanish people court painter Diego Velázquez, John Singer Sargent, Anders Zorn, Claude Monet, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, but mostly his contemporary Spanish masters Joaquín Sorolla Bastida and Ignacio Zuloaga. Amorsolo's most notable wora student at the Liceo was his painting of a young man and a young woman in a garden, which won him the first prize in the art school exhibition during his graduation year.To make money during school, Amorsolo joined competitions and did illustrations for various Philippine publications, including Severino Reyes’ first novel in Tagalog language, Parusa ng Diyos ("Punishment of God"), Iñigo Ed. Regalado's Madaling Araw ("Dawn"), as well as illustrations for editions of the Pasion. Amorsolo graduated with medals from the University of the Philippines in 1914.

Career

After graduating from the Univeajor influences on his work.

Amorsolo set up his own studio upon his return to Manila and painted prodigiously during the 1920s and the 1930s. HisRice Planting (1922), which appeared on posters and tourist brochures, became one of the most popular images of theCommonwealth of the Philippines. Beginning in the 1930s, Amorsolo's work was exhibited widely both in the Philippines and abroad. His bright,optimistic, pastoral images set the tone for Philippine painting before World War II . Except for his darker World War II-era paintings, Amorsolo painted quiet and peaceful scenes throughout his career.

Amorsolo was sought after by influential Filipinos including Luis Araneta, Antonio Araneta and Jorge B. Vargas. Amorsolo also became the favourite Philippine artist of United States officials and visitors to the country. Due to his popularity, Amorsolo had to resort to photographing his works and pasted and mounted them in an album. Prospective patrons could then choose from this catalog of his works. Amorsolo did not create exact replicas of his trademark themes; he recreated the paintings by varying some elements.

His works later appeared on the cover and pages of children textbooks, in novels, in commercial designs, in cartoons and illustrations for the Philippine publications such The Independent, Philippine Magazine, Telembang, El Renacimiento Filipino, and Excelsior. He was the director of the University of the Philippine's College of Fine Arts from 1938 to 1952.

During the 1950s until his death in 1972, Amorsolo averaged to finishing 10 paintings a month. However, during his later years, diabetes, cataracts, arthritis, headaches, dizziness and the death of two sons affected the execution of his works. Amorsolo underwent a cataract operation when he was 70 years old, a surgery that did not impede him from drawing and painting.

Amorsolo was a close friend of the Philippine sculptor Guillermo Tolentino, the creator of the Caloocan City monument to the patriot Andrés Bonifacio.

Historical paintings and portraits

Amorsolo also painted a series of historical paintings on pre-Colonial and Spanish Colonization events. Amorsolo's Making of the Philippine Flag, in particular, was widely reproduced.His The First Baptism in the Philippines required numerous detailed sketches and colored studies of its elements. These diverse elements were meticulously and carefully set by the artist before being transferred to the final canvas. For his pre-colonial and 16th-century depiction of the Philippines, Amorsolo referred to the written accounts of Antonio Pigafetta, other available reading materials, and visual sources He consulted with the Philippine scholars of the time, H. Pardo de Tavera and Epifanio de los Santos.[10]

Amorsolo also painted oil portraits of Presidents like General Emilio Aguinaldo, and other prominent individuals such as Don Alfredo Jacób and Doña Pura Garchitorena Toral ofCamarines Sur. He also painted the wedding picture of Don Mariano Garchitorena and Doña Caridad Pamintuan of Pampanga.

He also did a portrait of American Senator Warren Grant Magnuson (1905–1989), of the Democratic Party from Washington, whom the Warren G. Magnuson Health Sciences Building at the University of Washington, and the Warren G. Magnuson Clinical Center at the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda, Maryland are named after.

fernando amorsolo is a great artist who have been very dedicated to his works and shows passion in every artwork he creates.

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