#heoh

the sequel will talk about that ;)

i see you penny (lalo voice) i see you

7. Post a snippet from a wip.

here's the last thing i wrote on the wcn sequel:

“Why didn’t you kill him?” Nacho asks.

“I don’t kill everybody.”

“You killed the vet.”

Lalo sighs. “You measure your liabilities,” he says. “You should know that, Ignacio.”

“I killed who Tuco told me to kill and saved who Tuco told me to save,” Nacho says, punching the words out through a mouth that feels as if it had been stuffed with cotton. He needs to lay down. “When I tried to measure liabilities, I fucked up. I saved the lawyer. I’m not as smart as you think I am.”

“Don’t tell me what I think.”

Nacho splays his good hand. The movement takes him longer than he thought it would. “Do you think I’m smart?”

“I know you’re smart enough to know you’re not that smart.” Lalo relaxes in his chair and waves his hand. “It’s fine, Ignacio. You don’t need to be smart. You need to do as you’re told.”

“If I were good at that, you’d be dead.”

Lalo crosses an ankle over a knee and raises his chin at Nacho. Nacho recognizes the gesture, but it’s missing the ways Lalo’s eyes used to twinkle when he did it, that hint of a secret only Lalo knew. “I like you like this," Lalo says, gesturing at Nacho. “Open. Honest. You were always the best flat on your back for me.”

“Well, at least you have that to remember,” Nacho says. “Whatever. I’m fucking tired.”

“Go.” Lalo nods again, this time at the door to the bedroom. “Doc says you can sleep.”

Nacho draws himself from the kitchen table and labors to the bedroom. A cast iron bed with a thin mattress and a comforter too thick for even early autumn awaits him. Dust floats upward when he moves it down, catches the light of day through the slightly open curtains, and Nacho watches it as he settles in.

He sleeps instantly but fitfully. 

78. what motivates you during the writing process?

writing every day is the only thing that will keep me motivated. feedback doesn't really help, actually, and that's why i write everything all at once before posting it. if anything, putting stuff out serially kills my motivation, for some reason. but i find motivation in the habit. then generally just engaging with other art: music while i do housework; watching movies; reading books; etc.

62. In WCN, is there a deleted scene/idea you wish you could have included? Why did it get cut?

surprisingly, no! i hit all the beats i wanted to in that fic, which is why i think it's so long. there's stuff i had planned specifically for the sequel that weren't in wcn, but that's for obvious reasons, since it was for the sequel. i will say that i /almost/ cut the scene where they fuck in front of the bathroom mirror, since the fic is already pretty sex scene heavy, but i felt like i wasn't including enough sex from lalo's pov and so i decided to keep that one. i'm glad i did, because a lot of people seem to have enjoyed it!

To understand what comes next, you must understand what came before.

Lalo confronts Nacho after the betrayal and must decide whether to let him live or die. The answer lies in the development of his and Nacho's relationship over the course of a few months.

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lalo/nacho / prologue / 4.7k / more information about the fic inside the link 

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He got back to Albuquerque after a blessedly silent ride with Tyrus and Victor. He met with Fring, who told him that he wasn't free, not yet, to wait.

And he waited.

He went home. Laid in bed.

And he waited.

He was back handling Fring's business, still not free, the Salamancas still at large, Nacho knowing too much, too smart, too strong, too useful. He rode with Mike, did dead drops, collected money, distributed keys, sliced ears and fingers off, came home to a house empty but for the ghosts of memories and dirty money, and most of all avoided his father, shame hot in his stomach.

And he waited.

Every day he told himself he was not going to think about his father, as if merely acknowledging the existence of the man put him in danger still. Every day he also told himself he was not going to think about Lalo. The man was gone. Dead. Off the face of the planet. Whatever family he had left—and it wasn't much, Nacho thought—had buried him, rosary in hand, a good man in a bad life. Nacho did not think about Lalo. He did not consider the constant reminder not to think about Lalo thinking about Lalo. Nacho did not think about Lalo.

And he waited.