#I've made like three of these ve prepared

[brewinghorror]

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

HOOOOOO BOY. This is ACTUALLY the longest thing I've ever written I think. So yea! Enjoy my spontaneous little gift for ya since we talked in the disc!

Where is it where IS it godda— oh. There it is.

The pill bottle rattled as Adam shook out several more of the capsules than he should've. So much for "too much ibuprofen will cause liver failure."

It hurt. Not just the werewolf stuff, but the fact that every little preparation he did had to be done alone. He had to sneak out of the shared bedroom, don't forget the stupid amount of drugs to dull the pain, lock the door from the inside, forget the drugs, unlock the door—

Gah. God, why didn't he tell Jonah. I mean.. surely he'd help once he came around.. no. No. He'd cower. Scream, even. Not even Adam wanted to know what it looked like from someone else's view.

In nothing but a old, tattered tank top and shorts, the floors of the shabbily held together house were freezing against Adams skin.

Gh. Starting to regret not wearing shoes, but I only have three other pairs 'nd I keep getting side eyes from Seth about the fact I haven't worn many different things lately. Can't risk any more clothes. Not anymore.

Avoiding instinctually flipping on the light in the kitchen, Adam made his way to the window, unlocked it, and just as he was nearly homefree—

Flick.

"Adam?"

Oh. Oh No.

The sudden light burned his eyes.

"...hhhey, Sarah.." Adam spoke with a faked groggy tone. He was wide awake, and Sarah couldn't know why.

She seemed exhausted, Adam couldn't tell if it was from waking up or the usual seemingly idiotic shenanigans he had been pulling lately.

"I—" she started, only to pause and take a breath. "Have so many questions. One, what are you doing—"

Adam could barely get a word in before she cut him off, continuing.

"Two, where are you going. Three, PUT SOME DARN CLOTHES ON. it's middle 've winter!"

Adam sighed, hand covering his bite, straining himself not to clutch it as it stung.

"One, I'm leaving, two, nowhere important, three... Ok fine you caught me. I'm not.. that cold."

"You're shivering."

"Am not."

"... Adam don't make me fight with you, man. Go to bed. Whatever it is you're up to, it can probably wait—"

"That's the THING it ca— gahh. Look. You wouldn't get it."

"So, you're saying I'm stupid or something?"

"No! I just—" Adam winced in pain, the scars on his body flaring up. "ghhHH— I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm fine."

"..you're clearly not if you're saying that. Just.. tell me what's happening. You've really started acting weird lately, you're honestly starting to remind me of—"

Shut up shut up stop talking I see the little gears in your head spinning, Sarah, Please-

"—Seth."

"OOOKAY, that's enough of that conversation. Can I please get going now?"

Adam could feel his tendons shifting. This was it, huh. Sarah was gonna co-sign her own death certificate if she didn't back off now.

"No, Adam- dude it's freezing out there! You honestly wouldn't make it past the front yard in that."

"...watch me."

Thinking he was joking, Sarah didn't bother to stop him from throwing himself out the window and booking it.

Sarah attempted to speak, but was unable to put any coherent sentence together that would explain the sheer disappointment and confusion she felt.

If only she knew.

YOOOOOO /pos

Wolf boys feral-

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Hello! Sending some numbers from the end-of-year book ask, I'm not sure of everything you've already answered, so if you'd like to do any or all of these: 4, 5, 12 (especially because you write about reading books with vibes related to your projects), and 17. I hope you feel better!

hiya!! thanks for the ask! referencing this post.

4. If you DNF any books, what was the pettiest reason you put a book down this year?

so one of my toxic reader traits is actually that i DON'T tend to DNF things--i'm very stubborn, and i tend to read fast enough that it doesn't feel like a waste of too much time, AND i usually flip from "Reading to Read" to "Reading to Tear That Shit Apart" (as a writerly exercise, mostly, or for a hate read, which i find cathartic because i am frequently full of rage these days).

one book that is taking me Much Longer Than Anticipated to get through, though, is DAEMON VOICES by Philip Pullman, which i started in....september. a writer friend gifted it to me, and i was pleasantly surprised by the last book she gifted me, so i'm slogging along. but. this man. grates on me. it's mostly his hot takes on religion, so i keep putting him in time out when he conflates shit he has no business conflating. some of his general story thoughts are interesting! but every time he mentions religion, he's on thin ice with me, and he keeps winding up in Time Out About It lol. (also the lectures transcribed to essays format isn't really working for me, pettily.)

5. What's a scene you read this year that sticks with you?

oof okay i LOVE the specificity of this question but it absofuckenlutely made me bluescreen haha.

after staring at my shelves about it for a few minutes (quite a few minutes), i have to confess that MOST of NETWORK EFFECT is imprinted on my grey matter (but that's my second time rereading it, so i don't know if it counts. shout out to "ART sent me" and "you little idiot," especially).

for things new to me this year: the last scene of ROADSIDE PICNIC by the Strugatskys has apparently ALSO imprinted on my brain (unexpected), and mumu's delightful narration in WALKING PRACTICE by Dolki Min has great sticking power (there's some VERY cool text formatting going on there that feeds into the voice, which i loved!).

12. Did any book inspire you to create?

first off, it made my whole week that you mentioned the reading/writing/vibes thing, i feel seen and known, thank you!!

second off: WALKING PRACTICE gave me excellent writing-related vibes and inspiration for my weird little monster child book, and i loved the cool formatting/voice things it did. (it definitely comes with content warnings, though, for things like graphic on-page sex and body horror and eating people (frequently all three of those together/concurrent), so proceed with caution if that's not your jam!)

the SKYBOUND SAGA also inspired ~creation~ for me, from the opposite direction: very much a "damn, if this can get published, mine can too, let's gooo" type of inspiration. (i am a spite-fueled being, sometimes.)

17. A book you reread this year. Did it hold up to how you remembered it?

oh! i did actually quite a bit of rereading toward the end of the year!! i reread ARTIFICIAL CONDITION and NETWORK EFFECT in preparation for SYSTEM COLLAPSE, and those absolutely held up--ART and murderbot are my beloveds, and i stayed up way past my bedtime for like a week in a row (even though i have reread both of those at least once before, so hypothetically i know what's coming and i could put them down any damn time)(reader, i cannot).

my other rereads were VICIOUS and VENGEFUL by VE Schwab. VICIOUS held up perfectly, too--i've reread it before, and this time i did it specifically to dissect her timelines, and it's just a masterpiece of tension and pacing and history and reveals.

VENGEFUL, on the other hand, was Fine™. i don't hate it, but i don't love it--i could set that one down easier (which was good for my aforementioned bedtimes), and dissecting it wasn't as helpful of an exercise. don't get me wrong, i love victor and mitch and syd, and i enjoyed eli's backstory, but. it wasn't VICIOUS.

thanks again for asking!!

[katierosefun]

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

(Bonus because I'm curious: fave book/writer u look up to?)

hello hello! thank you for the ask!! // from these asks

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

i think i used to be more organized in the past, but now it's much more free-flowing. i usually depend on my notes app in my phone for outlines + ideas, but these days i also use a small notebook that i've started calling my fic notebook--back when i was a student, i'd just scribble down the beginnings of fics/ideas during classes or in between classes. i also use bullet lists on the taskade app to categorize fic ideas, outlines, etc! (which isn't really that different from the notes app, but . . . taskade makes things look prettier so)

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

depends on the kind of story! if it's a shorter story (a one-shot, for example), i tend to just kind of go with the flow. for longer form stories though, i definitely plan ahead--sometimes it's just a bullet list of beats, and other times, there are insanely lengthy outlines per chapter of a story and etc. i wish i could channel the same energy with my original stories, but unfortunately, my original stories tend to be a chaotic mess of planning that requires insane re-drafts + outlines + notes that are all stuffed into one document.

but as for prep work and whether i enjoy it . . . honestly, sometimes i love it. other times, i grow wary of it, because i need to walk that fine line between preparing vs. preparing so much to the point where i feel burnt out just after writing an outline, which isn't a good place for a writer to be. (so the trick to avoiding that is to write down the most important plot points, but like . . . not all of it. leave a bit of wiggle room for the rest of the creative energy to flow and etc.)

(Bonus: fave book/writer u look up to?)

ohoooo !! ! ! i think i have way too many favorite books, but i think my favorite authors have to be rainbow rowell, ve schwab, and mary hk choi. i think rainbow rowell is the author i look the most up to when it comes to dialogue--she really taught me so much of how to write dialogue (and i think her characters were some of the first that really made me feel like i was reading about Actual People, just from the way they talked).

i love ve schwab because her characters are insanely interesting, and her ideas are just so . . . i'd love to pick apart her brain tbh, just because i'm always stunned by just how original her ideas are when it comes to the fantasy/urban fantasy genre. (also, she wrote an excellent narrative essay on coming to terms with her queerness, and it remains one of the loveliest pieces of writing i've ever read.)

mary hk choi is actually a newer favorite author of mine--but i love her especially because her writing is so . . . familiar. she's also officially the only author who can actually make me cry--not necessarily because she writes about sad things, but just because mary hk choi has such a talent for taking these seemingly small feelings and giving an exact name to them, and she really knocks the wind out of my chest every time. her characters are always flawed and imperfect and messy as hell, but god whenever i read one of her books, i feel like i might as well be reading a) my diary or b) talking to a close friend or something, just because that's how immersive her writing and her characters can be.

so anyways, all this to say--these three writers have absolutely made me even more confident of the kind of stories that i want to write, as well as the kind of characters i want to explore and etc.

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Invisible String

Summary - Dean Winchester was never a man who would freely speak about his feelings and emotions. The reader, is his best friend of many years but some wrong choices and words of Dean's pushes a the reader away.

Pairing - AU Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings - Fluff (lots of fluff), angst-ish, swearing, mentions of abusive relationship, mentions of bad parenting, cheating

Square filled - Bestfriend AU ( @spndeanbingo )

Word count - 6150

A/N - This is written for @supernatural-jackles' Bi-weekly challenge. The prompts are in bold. Spn dividers by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89 (go check her blog out) Beta'd by @mariekoukie6661 (she is a sweetheart for agreeing to take a look at this long fic. Thank you💕)

“So what are we watching?” You asked as you slumped down on the yellow couch. You were dead on your feet after a long week of work but you just couldn't break tradition and not hang out with your best friend like every friday. Pulling the comforter close to your body, you let out a sigh of contentment. Truth be told, no matter how exhausted you were, you always looked forward to movie night.

“I picked the movie last friday, now it's your turn,” Dean handed you a bottle of beer and took a seat beside you. Your eyes sparkled with a glint of mischief, a knowing smile appeared on your face as Dean's lips curled up in disgust. “No chick flicks,” he warned.

“I get to call dibs on the movie tonight so I picked,” you paused for a second to create a dramatic effect, “The Proposal.”

“No!” Dean cried out in horror.

“Oh come on, it is not going to be that bad. Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock are in that movie.” you winked at him, making him groan and he picked up a cushion to cover his face, “Now, now don't be so dramatic.” He removed the cushion from his face and glared at you. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. “Pizza's here!” He exclaimed as he got up to open the door. You turned on the tv, opened Netflix and put on the movie.

“I don't understand how we can be best friends,” Dean grumbled as he came back to the room, “you eat your pizza with pineapple on it.” “It tastes good. You should try it one day.” you said and took the two boxes of food from his hand, setting them down on the table in front.

“Are you kidding me? Even if that becomes the only food available on earth, I still won't eat it. You can't put fruits on pizza,” he said, and took a slice from his own pizza and nestled into the comforter beside you.

“Tomato is a fruit, De,” you said, biting into the slice in your hand. You heard him mutter something under his breath which you ignored and shifted your focus to the movie playing on the screen. Halfway through the movie, you yawned and snuggled into your best friend. He wrapped his warm hands around you, pulling you closer to him. “You want to head back now?” He asked softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“Nuh-uh,” you said, “I want to finish the movie. I need to see if Andrew got Margaret back .” That elicited a chuckle from Dean, the vibrations of his laugh shaking your body a little.

“You're so stubborn and they are gonna find each other, it's a chick flick for God's sake,” he said, “they love each other, clearly.”

“Speaking of love, Cas asked me out,” you said, making Dean sit up straight. “What'd you say?” He asked

“Yes obviously. I need to dive back into the dating life,” you shrugged, “and Cas seems like a good guy.”

“He is but I thought you wanted to wait because of what happened with you know ‘ he who must not be named’,” he said, and you picked up the remote to pause the movie.

“I can't live in the past. I need to move on. It has been two years since I've gone on a date and it's not like I'm getting engaged tomorrow. It's just a date,” you said, messing with the loose end of the comforter.

“As you wish. I'm just looking out for you.”

“I know. You always do,” you said, giving Dean a tight hug, “and I kinda miss doing it.”

“Doing what?” “Sex,” Dean's eyebrows shot up, “oh come on, it's not like I didn't use to have sex with….him.”

“So,” he gulped, “so you m-miss doing….it?”

“Kind of. My fingers are not enough, you know what I mean right?”

“Of course, of course,” Dean cleared his throat, blush crept up his neck.

“And it's not just sex, I miss the physical touch, I miss those things that are part of a relationship,” you said, “I need this and I think I'm ready.”

“If you think you're ready, then it's fine. I just don't want to see my best friend with a broken heart again.” he said, his fingers getting entangled in your hair, as he slowly massaged your scalp.

“That feels good,” you moaned, “after that hell of a meeting with Azazel, I needed this night De. Thank you for always being there.”

“You're my best friend. I'll always be there when you need me even if you make me watch stupid romcoms.” he grinned, “Azazel creating problems again?”

“He never seems to approve of the templates and designs I make no matter how hard I try to make them loveable and on the other hand, the shitty designs made by Abaddon always gets approved.” you groan.

��Why don't you change jobs?”

“I can't. It's not that simple. Life's going good. I don't want to disrupt it by going on a job hunt.” you sighed.

“What if you start working for my company?” You immediately turned your head towards Dean and looked at him with surprise clear in your eyes.

“No.” “Why not?

“I'm a graphic designer, De. I'm not built to work in your company,” you said.

“Be my PA. I really need a personal assistant to help me keep upto date with my schedule and I'm a mess after Charlie left.” Dean said.

“But what is my job criteria? That I'm your best friend? It's like taking advantage of you. I can't do that.”

“What if you work as my PA after being interviewed for the job?” He asked. “Fine, maybe I can give it a shot,” you said.

“Awesome! Meet me in my office on Monday, ten in the morning, sharp. I don't tolerate tardiness.” he said, slipping quickly in the work mode.

“Aye, aye captain.” You giggled, but a deep frown soon appeared on your face.

“What?” “What if it messes up our relationship?”

“It won't. I know how to separate my work life from my personal one,” Dean assured.

“I guess, then it's okay,” you smiled.

“So about your date with Cas. Where's he taking you?”

“I have no idea,” you chuckled, “he said it will be a surprise.”

“That's-that's great but he should know that you hate surprises,” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“He doesn't know me very well. I'll let that pass this one time,” you told Dean.

“Fair enough,” he laughed. You yawned once more, as you tried to fight the drowsiness that was threatening to take over you.

“You want to head back home now or you want to crash here tonight, sleepyhead?” Dean smiled.

“I don't think I can drive all the way in such a state. Do you mind if I crash here?” You grinned, knowing very well he didn't mind because you crashed in his guest rooms on most of the Friday nights. He rolled his eyes as he got up from the couch.

“I'll prepare the guest room.” You sleepily nodded at him. You didn't realise you had fallen asleep but you were soon woken up when you felt your body move.

“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up. I'm taking you to bed,” you found yourself in Dean's arms as he headed towards the guest room with you, “you looked too peaceful sleeping. Go back to sleep.” He softly murmured. Dean gently placed you in the bed, pulling the cover upto your chest as you snuggled into the warmth of the covers. Within a few minutes, you had dozed off.

“Morning, sunshine. Pancakes for you,” Dean's loud voice woke you up from your deep slumber the next morning. You sat up in your bed, as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, the smell of pancakes hitting your nose.

“Breakfast in bed for my girl. Listen I gotta run to the office now,” he said as he handed you the plate of freshly cooked pancakes to you.

“It's Saturday!” You exclaimed.

“I know but Benny wanted to sign the deal with our company today. It's an important one, we can't let that go out of our hands,” he made you understand, “I'll be back within a few hours.”

“Sufe fing. I wif ve here,” you spoke with your mouth full, “Sure thing. I will be here.” You repeated your words after swallowing your food.

“Maggie will drop by. If you want to leave the house before I return, give the keys to her.” He said as he went back into his room to put his suit on.

“Hot damn,” you let out a low whistle as Dean stepped out of the room in his black suit, “Go get the deal, cowboy!” Dean did a full body laugh at your words, throwing his head backwards before he bid you goodbye and walked out of the door leaving you alone in his penthouse. Finishing your breakfast, you got up and got freshened up for the day. You picked up your phone and saw three texts from Cas.

“Meet me at 7.” “At the Season's 52.” “I'm looking forward to this.”

A smile crept onto your face, as you read the texts from him. “I need your help,” you shot a text to Ruby, “I've a date tonight. I don't know what to wear.” You waited for her to text back but instead of getting a text, you got a call from her.

“He finally asked you out?” She screamed from the other side of the phone.

“What do you mean “finally”?” You wondered.

“Oh come on, Y/N. How long have you two known each other?” “Uh-two months.”

“Two-wait, two months? You don't have a date with Dean?” She asked.

“No! Why would you think that?” You exclaimed, “Cas asked me out.”

“Cas? As in Castiel Novak? Dean's friend? And Dean's okay with it?”

“What's with the twenty questions, Ruby?” You said, annoyed at her questions, “And yes. Dean's fine with it. Why wouldn't he be? He is dating Lisa, in case you didn't remember. Now will you help me? I need a dress for tonight.”

Ruby agreed to go on a little shopping spree with you to find the perfect dress. Handing over the keys to Maggie, the housekeeper, you shot a text to Dean letting him know you were leaving his house. You waited for some time but he didn't text you back. You shrugged it off thinking he was probably busy with the meeting. Your whole afternoon was spent with Ruby as you tried to find a good dress for the date. She made you try on what seemed like a hundred dresses of different colours and style until a green bottleneck dress finally caught your eyes.

“This is a beautiful dress! You gotta try it on,” Your friend insisted.

“You sure? Look at the price - it's too expensive,” you pouted.

“Do you want to get laid tonight?” Ruby quirked her eyebrow.

“Yeah-I mean no….maybe,” you stutter.

“That dress - Cas won't be able to take his eyes off you tonight,” she smiled.

“Fine, if you insist.” Needless to say, the dress was a perfect fit but it was all for nothing.

Tapping on the hardwood of the table, you let out a frustrating sigh. Tears pricked at your eyes as you took a sip of the drink.

“Ma'am do you-are you going to-”

“Please bring the check. I'm done here,” you said, barely managing to keep your tears at bay. The waitress nodded and walked away from your table. You dialed up your best friend’s number and waited for him to pick up.

“Dean,” you said, sniffling a little as he picked up his phone after the third ring. “Y/N, you okay?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Can you,” you cleared your throat, “Can you pick me up? I'm at Season’s 52.”

“Sure,” you heard shuffling on the other side, “I'll be there as soon as possible.”

“Okay,” you replied.

“He just didn't show up,” you sniffled as Dean drove yourselves back to his house.

“Maybe-maybe he had his reasons,” Dean said, throwing a worried glance at your way.

“Reasons?” You scoffed.

“Cas is a good man. This is very unlike him,” Dean said.

“Am I-am I not good enough, Dean?” “Y/N, you know that's not true. You're pretty, smart, a little badass - you are a good person with a kind heart,” Dean smiled.

“Then why? Why didn't he show up? He could have left a message. I'm telling you Dean, I'm so over men now. All men are the same,” you looked at him, “except you.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. That is good to hear.”

“I sure do know how to choose,” you grumbled.

“Y/N, it's just one bad date. So what? Cas is not the only man in the whole world. You'll find someone,” Dean said, pulling into his driveway.

“I don't think so. Maybe he was right,” you opened the door of the car to step out.

“Who?”

“Alistair. Maybe he is right. Maybe the problem is me,” you said, tears pooling in your eyes. Dean grabbed your hands and pulled you back into the car.

“No. He is not right. Alistair will never be right. He was an abusive and manipulative son of a bitch. Listen to me, you are not the problem, sweetheart,” he said, “those men just don't understand you.”

“Is that why no one sticks around?” You turned around to face him with wet eyes.

“I did and I will always be there for you,” he said, his hands cupping your face.

“I know, De,” you leaned into his touch as his thumb gently caressed your cheeks. You opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by three harsh taps on the car window. Dean immediately opened the door and stepped out.

“Lisa.” He said.

“Unbelievable, Dean!” Lisa exclaimed. You couldn't see her face but you knew she was furious.

“It's not what it looks like,” Dean whispered.

“You just up and left me in the morning and now when I get back to talk things out, I find you cozying up to her. I'm done with you!” She yelled back. You shrunk back into your seat when you heard her scream. Dean didn't even tell you that he had broken up with her. You wondered why he hid it from you.

“I already said we were over Lisa, just go back home,” Dean said and brought his hand down his face.

“Three years of relationship meant nothing to you! Why?” Lisa shoved Dean, making him stumble back a little.

“I don't owe you an explanation, okay?”

“You cheating asshole-” “I didn't cheat on you, Lisa. I-I'm just not in love with you anymore,” Dean said, making her scoff.

“Have a nice life, asshole!” Lisa said and you heard her retreating footsteps. You stepped out of the car and saw Dean standing against the car, with his face buried in his hands.

“Hey, you okay?” You rubbed his arm gently.

“Yeah. I'm sorry you had to hear that,” he sighed.

“Why didn't you tell me you broke up with her?” You asked.

“It wasn’t important.” “Not important? You let me ramble all the way from the restaurant to your house but not once did you tell me you broke up with her,” you said.

“Y/N, I'm fine. Can we drop this now?” He snapped at you, “I'm sorry.”

“S’okay,” you gave him a sad smile, “I've an idea.”

“Does this idea include booze?” “What do ya think?” “I'm in.”

“What time is it?” You groaned as bright light hit your eyes. The throbbing pain in your head increased as you opened your eyes, trying to focus on the human figure standing in your doorway.

“You got wasted last night, sweetheart,” Dean grinned.

“Stop talking. Just stop talking,” you groaned and nestled deep into your covers.

“Aspirin. You will need these,” he kept the medicine on the nightstand, and walked away, “Breakfast is ready.”

“Morning, how's the hangover?” He gave you a cheeky smile as you walked into the dining room a few minutes later. Dean had his laptop opened in front of him, a cup of coffee beside the electronic device. “You're enjoying this too much, aren't ya? How come you're not hung-over?” You grumbled, “I'm hungry.”

“Here. I made waffles because my heartbroken, hung-over best friend needs her comfort food. Dig in,” he said and pushed a plate of waffles towards you, “I didn't drink much.”

“I thought we were drinking because you had a breakup.” “I told you already I'm not feeling miserable. See there's this girl I like who is not Lisa. I'm thinkin’ of asking her out so I did what I had to do. I ended things with Lisa,” Dean said.

“How come you never told me about this girl?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “‘Cause I wasn't sure how I felt but two days ago I saw her and I just knew that she is the one I want to be with,” he smiled.

“You're such a sap.” You giggled, “she must be very special.”

“She is very special. I have never met a girl like her,” he said, staring at you, “now, eat up.”

“Mhm,” you moaned, taking a bite of the waffles on your plate, “you know, you should give up your business and open up a coffee shop. You make excellent waffles.”

“Sorry sweetheart, no can do. People at work will miss me too much,” he chuckled, “you do remember you are interviewing for the position of PA tomorrow?”

“Yep but I don't know if I will get it or not. I have heard the CEO of the company is kind of a shithead,” you grinned.

“Oh really?” Dean looked at you with amused eyes, “You're terrible.”

“Yeah, so I've heard.” You laughed.

He shook his head at you, “Listen, I have a favour to ask.” “Shoot.”

“I would like it if you could accompany me to Sam and Jess’ anniversary party tonight,” he said.

“Tonight?” “Yeah. I know it's very sudden but it completely sli-”

“I'll go with you but I thought you told me that after what happened with your Dad last time, you wouldn't be attending another family gathering,” you said.

“Uh-huh. Sam insisted that I attend this party,” he replied.

“Fine I'll be there with you at the party to save you from John Winchester,” you giggled.

“You'll be my knight in shining armour tonight.” He chuckled.

You went back to your apartment to get ready for the party. Dean had told you that he would be picking you up at six that evening. As you touched up on your makeup, you heard three knocks on your door.

“Good evening, Y/N,” Dean smirked, looking dapper in a black two-piece suit.

“Good evening, Dean. I'll be out in a minute,” you blushed when you saw his eyes travel all over your body.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“De-” you snaked placed your hand over his, as you both sat inside the Impala with her engine turned off.

“I can't do this Y/N. I can't face John Winchester again, not after the crap he pulled last time,” he gritted out the words, his knuckles turning white as he held the steering wheel tightly, staring off at the direction of his house.

“Why are you here?” He looked at you in surprise. “I-Sam asked me to be here,” he said.

“Exactly. Your little brother asked you to be here so you will go into that house and attend your brother's party. It's up to you if you want to make any small talk, I'll be there with you but Dean you can't avoid your father forever-”

“I'm not avoiding him,” Dean said.

“Yes, you are. Now go in there, ask him why he did that, demand answers from him,” you said.

“I-okay, let's go. Just don't leave my side tonight or someone might get hurt,” he said.

“You're not going to punch your Dad,” you mumbled, “even though he deserves it.” He chuckled at your words as you two stepped out of the car.

“I'll never get used to the fact that you grew up in a mansion,” you smirked.

“It's not a mansion. It's a….big house,” he smiled.

“Yep, whatever you say.” As soon as you stepped through the door of the mansion, Dean was immediately pulled into a hug. “I thought you wouldn't show up,” Sam said, letting go of his brother, “Hey Y/N.”

“Almost didn't,” the older Winchester replied as you gave the younger one a small wave. “He showed up, didn't he? What about Mom?”

“Mom and Dad are in the living room. Last thing I saw they are not speaking to each other even when they are in the same room. I just want everyone to act civil till the party's over,” Sam said, “Drinks are in the kitchen.”

“So kitchen first, living room later. Keep John out of my sight and everything will be perfect,” Dean patted his brother's shoulder and made his way towards the kitchen, taking you with him. Pouring himself a glass, he handed you one.

“Dean,” a deep voice came from the doorway, making Dean stand up straight. “Sam had one job. Dad.” He looked at John and gave him a curt reply.

There was a moment of awkward silence as no words were exchanged between the father and the son. You could feel Dean trying his level best to keep himself from screaming at his Dad. You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

“I know you don't want to see me right now-” “You're right and you may leave now,” Dean said and turned his back towards his father.

“Son. You have to understand, it was a long time back and I didn't know what was going through my head. I-” John sighed.

“You what? You had a perfect family here. A wife, two sons. And all this time, you knew about Adam but you said nothing. You kept up with the charade of the perfect husband and father when in reality you were neither of them,” Dean gritted out.

“Dean. Maybe I was not the perfect husband but I did everything for you and Sam,” the older man said in a harsh tone.

“Really? You did everything? You were nothing but an absent father. I was there to take care of Mom and Sammy while you were away on your so-called business trips when actually you were plowing another woman's field,” Dean growled at his father.

“Dean!” His father snapped back.

“Mr. Winchester you should leave now,” you said, trying to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand, “John, please.”

“This is family matter Y/N. You have no right to get involved in this,” John retorted.

“Don't speak to her like that. She is more family to me than you ever were,” Dean said and stalked towards his Dad, “so you can leave now. I'm sure as hell Mom is not talking to you so you can get the hell out of this house now, John.”

“Dean-” “Now,” Dean growled.

“I would do what he says, John,” you said. John scoffed, turning around and got out of the house. Dean plopped down on one of the chairs in the kitchen, gently rubbing his temples.

“You sure you're okay?” “I need a stronger drink,” he murmured.

“I saw Dad leave. What happened?” Sam came into the kitchen and asked as he looked at his brother.

“I told you to keep John away from me. You had one job,” Dean snapped and stormed out of the room, grabbing a glass of drink with him.

“He just needs some time to cool down. John came to talk to Dean and-”

“Yeah I understood. I'm gonna check on Mom. This party was a mistake,” Sam said and left the kitchen leaving you standing there alone.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you finished up your drink. You were angry at John too. He had hurt Dean, your best friend. He was a liar and you hated liars. You needed to go find Dean. You placed the empty glass on the counter and made your towards the door but you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him.

“Cas,” you said, “I didn't expect you to be here.”

“Yeah well, Sam is a good friend so he invited me over.” Cas gave you a smile.

“Oh.” You nodded.

“We should probably address the elephant in the room,” he gave an awkward laugh.

“Huh? Oh you mean how you stood me up last night?” You glared at him.

“Well you didn't tell me that you were looking for only a one night stand? I would have backed out sooner. I like you Y/N but I don't do one night-”

“Wait, hold on. Who told you I was looking for a one time, no strings attached thing?”

“Dean told me,” your jaw dropped onto the floor at his confession, “I'm sorry Y-”

“S’okay.” You brushed him off, “I need to have a word with Dean, have you seen him?”

“I think he was talking to Kevin over there,” Cas pointed you towards another room.

“Thanks and it's okay, Cas. We're cool.” You said and almost ran your way into the other room.

“I'm telling you man, you deserve someone better than Y/N. She is clingy and she doesn't take no for an answer. I can give you her number but-” Dean turned around and his eyes locked with your wet ones. You shook your head at him, a look of betrayal evident on your face. You heard him call out to you as you turned on your heels and ran towards the door. “Excuse me, Kevin,” Dean said and went after you but by that time you were already out of the house. “Y/N!” He called, as you pulled out your phone to call for an uber.

“Fuck you!” You exclaimed, “I'm clingy, I don't take no for an answer. Is that what you think of me? All this time while you pretended to be my best friend, is this what went through your head?” Tears were running down your face now, “how many times was I there for you when you needed me and this is how you repay me?”

“I didn't mean to say it like that. You are my best friend Y/N-”

“You are a fuckin’ liar! You told Cas that I was looking for a person to keep my bed warm for only one night. Why? You know what, I don't want to talk to you right now. Leave me alone,” you said.

“No, please,” he took a step towards you. “Don't you dare make a move!” You screamed, “You lied to me and I hate liars more than anything. You are no better than your Dad. I hate you! I regret that I ever thought of you as my best friend.” You heard shuffling behind you and turned around to see him leaving. A sob tore from your throat. Standing there alone on the porch of the Winchester mansion, with your smudged makeup, you waited for the uber to show up.

It took you one hour to finally reach your house. Your phone was getting blown up by messages from the Winchester brothers and Ruby. You broke down in tears as soon as you reached your house. You crawled underneath the covers without bothering to get out of your dress or to remove your makeup. Your body shook as you continued to sob loudly into the pillow. The same man, who acted as your rock when you had left Alistair, gave you shelter in his house when you showed up in the middle of the night because your ex-boyfriend was drunk and was on a rampage, was the one who continued to spew lies about you behind your back. Your trust was shattered just like your heart and you didn't know how to piece them back together. The crying had tired you out and in no time you slipped into a deep slumber with Dean's words haunting your dream.

Morning came way too quickly. You woke up to Ruby knocking on your door along with Dean calling your phone. Your eyes were red and swollen as a result of crying all night long.

“What happened? Who's ass do I need to kick?” Ruby barged into your house as soon as you opened the door as saw you had been crying.

“....Dean.” “Dean? Dean Winchester?” Her eyes widened in surprise which later turned to anger when you told her everything that had happened the day before. Ruby was furious and if Dean was there in the room, he would have been a dead man.

“Oh Y/N,” Ruby cooed as she pulled you into a hug, “I didn't know it was this bad. Sam called me to check on you because you left his house in a hurry. I'm gonna kill Dean Winchester.” You held onto her tightly as sobs racked through your body. She gently caressed your head while cursing the green-eyed Winchester.

You were miserable but what you didn't know is that your ex-best friend was also losing his mind over the incident. The guilt was eating him up alive and he didn't know how to fix it. Sam had punched him in the face and kicked him out of his house when he had told him what happened.

“Tell her the truth or don't ever talk to me again,” Sam had threatened his brother. With red eyes and a swollen cheek, Dean went into his office the next morning. He hoped that after the interview he would get a chance to apologise but you never showed up.

“Okay, Mr. Winchester, that was the last interviewee,” Jody poked in her head into the room. “That was the last? What about uh-Y/N L/N?” Dean asked.

“Uh-she dropped out - called us early in the morning to let us know she won't make it to the interview,” Jody smiled, “I need your decision fast.”

“Decision?” “Who we are hiring for the position of the PA,” she said.

“Sure. I'll let you know. You can go now Jody. Close the door on your way out,” Dean said.

He sighed as he dialed your number, “It's Y/N L/N. She can't get to her phone now. Please leave a message.”

“Y/N, sweetheart I'm sorry. You shouldn't have dropped out of the interview. I know you won't ever forgive me but I'm sorry.” You sniffled as you heard his voice message. He had left you exactly fifty-three texts, twenty three missed calls and seventeen voice messages - all had the same words, ‘I'm sorry’ but you couldn't forgive him.

“Stop listening to that asshat,” Ruby grumbled and snatched your phone from you. “I-I just can't understand why he did that? I thought he was my friend,” you sniffled.

“I'm sorry Y/N,” Ruby took a seat beside you and wrapped you in a comforter, “I brought ice cream with me. I heard they work wonders on a broken heart.”

“And you brought my favourite flavour. Thanks!” You hugged but were interrupted by the sound of your doorbell.

“Stay here. Let me check,” Ruby said and went towards the door. Opening it, she stared at a disheveled, sad Dean Winchester.

“Give me one good reason to not kick you out right now,” Ruby glared at Dean.

“I need to talk to her. Please,” Dean’s voice cracked at the end.

“No you won't. She is miserable and I won't let you break her even more,” Ruby challenged, “Now get out.”

“I don't care if I have to fight you but please let me see her,” he pleaded.

“You are one stubborn, lying piece of shit,” Ruby grumbled.

“Why are you here?” the two heads turned immediately towards you.

“I wasn't sure you wanted to see me but I had to see you,” Dean said.

“And why exactly?” Ruby snapped.

“Ruby. It's okay. Let him in. I need to hear him out.” Dean gave Ruby a side eye and let himself in.

“Y/N,” She started. “I'll be fine," you assured her.

“If you need me to kick him out or kick his ass, just call me,” she glared at Dean once more and left your apartment.

“She's scary,” the green-eyed man said. “Well she has to. She just saw her friend with a broken heart,” you threw him his words back.

“I can't tell you how sorry I am,” Dean said, his head hung in shame.

“Why?” He looked up at you, “I don't know,” he replied, making you scoff.

“You don't know? Well maybe because you actually thought of me to be clingy and the girl who doesn't take no for an answer,” you seethed, “and you even lied to Cas about me. You framed me as some whore who doesn't do relationships. Fuck you, Dean! You knew better than anyone how long it took me to get over Alistair. How could you do this to me?”

“I don't know,” he whispered, “It's just I lied to them because I didn't want them to be with you.”

“It's my life! I get to decide who I want to have sex with and who I want to date,” you hissed.

“Well I couldn't let you make those decisions because I didn't want you to choose them. I wanted you to choose me.” he blurted out. You sat there dumbfounded as you heard his confession, "What? Why?"

“Because...I love you,” Dean muttered.

“You love me?” “Yeah.”

“What are you, a kindergartener? Next thing I know you will be pulling my pigtails,” you sassed.

“I'm sorry. You know I'm bad with feelings-” “So you decided to lie?”

“Yeah.” “You're terrible, you know that,” you said.

“So I have heard,” he shrugged. “Come here you idiot,” you beckoned at him. He went towards you and sat down beside you.

“I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was just-” “What? You were just fending off the boys?”

“Yeah. At first I was scared that I was falling for my best friend and you knew me, you knew all my horrible secrets, the thoughts that are inside my head which keep me up at night and I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same. I broke up with Lisa for you because whenever I closed my eyes at night I wanted it to be you with me, not Lisa.” You were stunned at his confession. Dean never talked about his feelings, he was extremely good at hiding his feelings so hearing him blurt out about how he felt, surprised you.

“Dean,” you said. “No. I need to say this,” he said, stopping you, “I don't know if you feel the same. Even if you did, I don't think I have a chance after the stunt I pulled yesterday. But sweetheart, you mean everything to me, I swear to never hurt you again. I was planning on asking you out after the party but Kevin had asked for your number so I told him all those lies about you but sweetheart I know what I did….said is unforgivable but please I need you. I need my best friend back.” He looked at you, locking his teary eyes with yours.

“I don't know whether to kiss you or hit you,” you said, wiping away the single tear that rolled down your cheek. “K-kiss me?” Dean’s eyes went wide.

“You are the most horrible person I have ever met. I hate you, Dean but I hate me more that I decided to fall for this horrible person that I call my best friend. Kiss me, before I change my mind,” you said and that's all Dean needed before he crashed his lips into yours. It was a harsh kiss but one filled with longing and love. His hands sneaked to the back of your head, his fingers entangled with your hair as your hands held on to his biceps.

“I'm sorry for hurting you,” he said after he let go of your lips. You sat there with his hands cupping your face, your foreheads touching. “Next time, talk to me,” you whispered.

“I will,” he kissed your forehead, “So Y/N L/N, can I take you out for dinner tomorrow night?” “Definitely Dean Winchester, but mind you I'm tough to impress,” you smirked.

“I have plans, special plans for a special girl. I will make you mine,” he said before he leaned in to capture your lips with his once again.

[completely-zucked]

I've been homeless and immobile for a while, but I'm in danger of losing my accommodation and wheels (again).

Mentally and spiritually, I have been homeless for nearly two decades. I have once again been threatened with eviction because I don't have enough money in my bank account to pay my rent or meet my car repayment and other loans. Each time it happens, things get worse and there's no negotiating.

This time around, though, I might call their bluff, because I was already being driven mad (quite literally) by the restrictions, manipulating and gass-lighting (being called a cold, uncaring self-centred, irrational, illogical, lazy, stupid, narcissistic and paranoid sociopath — enough to make a guy with self-esteem and motivation issues suicidal). What's changed is that now I've been banned from using, cleaning and/or performing any maintenance on any room in the house except my bedroom (including bathrooms and toilets), which was previously one of my responsibilities. I have to use outdoor ones/the old servants' quarters, which doesn't have a door on the bathroom. )I live in the southern hemisphere; it's winter here.) I'm not allowed to hang a curtain or take material to make one, so I use an old chlorine bucket in the passageway/corridor outside as an indicator that I'm in there. I'm not allowed to be out there past 21:00 and am not allowed to move my stuff to the servants' quarters or garage because they are being used as storage space for tools and, occasionally, as a home gym by/for my landlord. I'm also not allowed to use any tools or appliances (including vacuum, cleaners, brushes, brooms, dustpans and cloths), because no maintenance. Everything of mine that I don't keep hidden and locked away has been confiscated. Of that, everything that I bought myself has been discarded or claimed as belonging to my landlord and landlady. (My soap, of all things, was the first casualty, which is what tipped me off and prompted my buying locks for those things I could lock away.) I am also not financially able nor permitted to buy more tools, containers or locks (and replacements for those) since my finances are being scrutinised and my choices, decisions and purchases criticised.

My broom is a paintbrush, my dustpan a plastic shopping bag and my duster a roll of paper towel. My vacuum cleaner is a cardboard tube glued to a Pringles can with a PC fan inside. ... And they wonder why I've taken to doing DIY projects that repurpose recyclable household items ; how irrational of me ... Le sigh.

That means no fridge, kettle, microwave or stove. I also don't get cooked meals. That would be fine on its own if I weren't subject to restrictions. I live off powdered milk, coffee, cereal, peanut butter, marmite, bread, orange squash concentrate, syrup, biscuits and bananas. Sometimes, I skim a couple of tablespoons of yoghurt out of the container when they're not around, or dilute fruit juice with water at a ratio of about 1:3, just to have some variety/luxury. I had some meal replacement shake powder too, just to keep me from starving, but that's gone and I can't afford to replace it. If I ask for more, I'll have to pay it back; they keep track of everything they buy for me (including a bottle of vitamins) that I'll have to pay back if/when I get a job again. I already owe about $220. It was, of course, a big deal when I bought myself twelve beers on special for $9 the day I got paid for the first lot of contract work I'd done in nearly six months since losing my job, despite the guy underpaying me by just over $100 because I hadn't insisted on a written agreement and was in no position to haggle/negotiate; the last time I do favours for friends, especially those who're religious. (The fact that I'm rationing out the beers at one a week and am only on my sixth one next weekend doesn't have any relevance to my landlady, who tried to confiscate a couple with intent to give them to my landlord and made an almighty fuss about how selfish I was being when I said I'd be fine with sacrificing them if either of them had just asked for one, how she'd noticed my ex always bought the wine despite our having agreed on certain divisions of costs when we were together, and a whole lot of other irrelevant bullshit.)

I need help getting out before the end of June, assuming I find a job and somewhere to go by then. Otherwise, I'm quite likely to end up on the street or attempting to off myself again. Currently, I have no job, nowhere to go and not even enough money to buy a cheap bicycle for $175. Even if I take my car to a dealer who'll settle the balance of my loan with the bank, I get nothing for it because it's an old model which I haven't been able to afford to take better care of and is pretty much a lemon four years after I drove it off the showroom floor. (I should have traded it in after two, before the new model came out). That's the best deal I've been offered. The alternative is to either trade it in for something else and extend my loan or take an amount that's less than it's worth and continue paying off a loan for a vehicle I no longer have. Hooray for death by a thousand cuts under Consumer capitalism.

Apparently, it's all my fault for not learning my life lessons, growing the fuck up, sorting my life out and GTFO of the family home a hell of a lot sooner (by at least a decade, nearly two), when the physical abuse by my peers first started in small and subtle ways. I thought that would all be behind me when I left high school, then varsity, then two corporate jobs. But no, I'm the kind of person who attracts bullies and toxic, abusive relationships.

The moral of the story

If I had known what I now know and the lessons I have learned when I was a padawan/young twenty-something, I would have taken my education seriously and applied myself to obtaining both CS and EE degrees instead of a crappy, near-worthless diploma, moved into my own two-room shoebox as a priority and bought a bicycle instead of a car. Anywhere I can't reach by bike probably isn't worth going and a car is an immovable liability/waste of money two years after purchase. At least I would have my own space (which I so desperately crave). At least then, I could be an allegedly horrible, reprehensible and repulsive degenerate of a person all by myself without anybody to hurt or hurt me. I'm fucking done with living with other people for a while. Fuck that noise; I want a thousand days of solitude, even if it's in a corrugated iron shack in an informal settlement. I'm prepared to cook my supper in a three-legged potjie over a wood fire and boil collected rainwater in a cast iron pot while I wait for my orchard and mielies to grow.

Honestly, at this stage, I'm prepared to live on a camp bed with a sleeping bag and a camp chair and folding table in somebody's garage, undercroft or old servants' quarters (as long as there's a plug point and running water) just to be able to get away from here. I just want some space of my own to be myself (horrible or otherwise) again and keep my interaction with people to a minimum while I figure out how to cope with/manage my shitty life situation, get back on my feet and out in the world again without being scrutinised, criticised, judged, condemned, restricted, rejected and ostracised. That shit is literally making me crazy and suicidal. It is not in any way conducive to me so much as thinking of an action plan/way forward, let alone pursuing it. Yet, somehow, I still manage to restrict the time I spend buggering around on social media (still too much), which I apparently need to succeed in the modern world, hunt for jobs, write, make music and try to flog my Patreon to disinterested parties. Oh, and I'm also writing a proposal for a social media site for someone who's attempting to gather funding.

Seeing my shrink for two hours a month (which costs me a month's wages from my part-time weekend job) and the afore-mentioned job is not enough, as much as I love animals.

So if you can spare between ten and twenty-seven dollars a month to help keep me afloat, please subscribe to my Patreon. Your support will be greatly appreciated.

[sinsiriuslyemo]

So I saw your post about taking requests for deleted scenes from past seasons of cuba vs dr, and ironically I've always wanted a scene where nevada takes care of lily and eddie while dama was in prison, if you could put that in i would greatly appreciate it, again congrats on making this series for what it is and good luck with the last season

The Beginning

Nevada had heard plenty of screams in his lifetime; gurgling screams, terrified screams, high-pitched screams, the list went on. But nothing had ever prepared him for the cries of a baby every two hours, especially at four in the morning. He’d taken care of Eddie as a baby plenty of times, but nothing compared to the 24/7 madhouse that he was living in currently.

Rolling over, he groaned a rubbed a hand over his face. He’d barely been asleep for 45 minutes and he suddenly wished he’d been the one to have been put in prison. At least that kind of madhouse, he was familiar with. He could handle a jailhouse brawl any day, but the next year taking orders from an infant was going to be brutal. He could feel it.

He got up from bed, put on a pair of sweats and shuffled into Lily’s room, carding his fingers through his hair with one hand while the other braced himself against her crib. He peered down at his daughter, who had her mouth stretched open as wide as it would go, her little tongue shaking with her cries and her eyes plump and shut tightly as her fists shook on either side of her head.

“Coño chica, doesn’t that shit give you a headache?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

She was either none the wiser of him having asked her a question or simply did not care to hear any lip service, because Lily simply continued to wail at the top of her little lungs. Sighing heavily, Nevada shifted his weight and reached down, picking Lily up and sniffing at her waist.

She didn’t need a change.

He set her against his chest with one hand on her back and gently rocked her. She didn’t care for his efforts to calm her.

The only thing left to attempt was to satiate her possible hunger and he sighed again as he went downstairs and into the kitchen with his daughter still in his arms.

“Your mother owes me big time for this shit,” he groaned, pulling a bottle out of the fridge and warming it up before he checked the temperature. He offered the rubber nipple to the infant, who didn’t see to care for that either. “Come on, mijíta, have mercy,” he mumbled to the baby.

Apparently she took after her father, because mercy was the last thing on her mind in that moment. Her little face was getting redder by the minute and Nevada set the bottle down with the intent of trying the last trick he had up his sleeve. Setting Lily down on the kitchen table, he took her onesie off and picked her up, setting her against his bare chest as he went back upstairs, making sure to grab the bottle just in case.

As soon as he got a blanket over her back and sat in the rocking chair in her room, her cries began to calm down until she was quiet again.

“Thank fuck for that,” he said in a sigh of relief.

The door opened a moment later and Eddie walked in, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Mira who decided to join the party,” Nevada said as he looked down at Lily’s face.

“She cries so loud,” Eddie groaned.

“Yeah, no shit.”

“You need any help, tio?” Eddie asked.

“No, I’m good, go back to bed,” Nevada replied. “Dale, you got your first day of school tomorrow.”

“Okay...goodnight.”

“Night,” Nevada replied, letting his rest against the back of the rocking chair. His eyes threatened to close several times, and he stood, dressing Lily in a new set of pajamas before going back to the rocking chair to offer the bottle again. This time she latched on without trouble, her eyes still closed but this time much more relaxed.

The First Solid

“Okay, escúchame bien, princesa,” Nevada said, tiny spoon in one hand and homemade baby food in the other. “Your abuela Gladys used to make this shit for your cousins all the time and they loved it. It’s like baby crack.”

Lily gave him a grin, showing off her only two teeth and giggling as she reached for the spoon.

She’d just started eating solids and seemed to hate everything Gerber had to offer. Anytime he would feed her any, she would spit it out immediately, most of which would end up on his face. Gladys hadn’t been surprised at all.

“What did you expect? Eso no es comida!” she’d said to him.

“Okay, so don’t spit this out. This is baby gold, me entiendes?”

Lily squealed, clapping her hands three times before she placed both hands on top of her head.

“Alright, here we go,” he said, gathering some mashed up vegetables onto the spoon and slowly brought it towards the baby’s mouth.

The door opened and Eddie walked in, tossing his backpack down on the floor on his way towards the stairs. He’d been volunteering after school as a tutor in the library, and usually didn’t get home until close to five.

“Oye, pick that shit up. This look like a pig stye?” Nevada asked.

“Come on, tio. Tia’s not here, we don’t have to be all clean or whatever,” Eddie groaned.

“¿Como?” Nevada asked, arching a brow. “Oye, me cago en mi abuela. Pick up your backpack, carajo.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and turned to pick up his backpack off the floor.

“¿Y que? How’d your test go?” Nevada asked, turning back to Lily and offering her the spoon.

“Good, I finished early.”

“Good,” Nevada replied as Lily pressed her lips together, refusing to taste the homemade baby food. “Come on, princesa, just taste it. I promise you’ll like it.”

Lily threw herself against the back of the highchair, turning her head to one side and grimacing.

“Lily, come on, just a bite,” Eddie said, laying his backpack on the table. The baby simply continued to swat at the spoon, blowing raspberries at Nevada.

“You got homework?” Nevada asked.

“Yeah, I can do it later though.”

“No, no, do it now. Come on, abuela and abuelo are gonna be here soon,” Nevada replied. “They’re bringing your favorite.”

“Churrasco?” Eddie asked, his eyes lighting up.

“Mhm, con arroz y frijoles, and I think abuela Gladys made a flan that she might bring over, too.”

“Oh hell yes!” Eddie cheered.

“Entonce dale, if you want some of that flan, you’ll finish all your homework,” Nevada said before he once again set his gaze on Lily. “Y tu, vamos. I want you to take a bite of this.”

Lily giggled again, squealing and reaching for Nevada, who held the spoon to her mouth again. He used the spoon to try and open her mouth by flicking it against her bottom lip.

“Open wide, mi vida,” Nevada cooed. Lily would not budge. “Mira, it’s good,” he said, putting the spoon into his mouth and humming at the taste.

“Ew,” Eddie said in a chuckle.

“¿Como que ew? It’s just blended vegetables. Abuela Gladys used to make this all the time. We could eat this, it’s like vegetable soup, she just put it through the blender,” Nevada replied.

“Seriously? Isn’t Lily supposed to be eating baby food?” Eddie asked.

“This is baby food. It’s just homemade.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, abuela said Lily shouldn’t be eating that bullshit Gerber shit,” Nevada replied  shrugging after a moment. “She didn’t like it anyway.”

“That’s kinda cool, I guess,” Eddie mumbled, pulling out his homework while Nevada continued to try and feed Lily.

He tried many tactics; peekaboo, choo-choo train, airplane, nothing worked. Lily simply giggled and squirmed in her chair, dodging the spoon every time. After a while, Nevada sighed heavily, almost giving up but deciding to try one last time.

“Lily, abre la boca,” he said. He arched a brow at the wide, green-eyed stare his daughter bestowed upon him, her mouth still closed. “Mija, por favor. Just try it,” he pleaded.

A knock at the door sounded and Eddie got up to answer it. Nevada smirked when he saw his nephew looking through the peephole before opening the door and letting Oscar and Gladys inside. The latter had tupperware filled with food while Oscar carried the flan.

“Hola, mijo. ¿Como esta?” Oscar asked, patting Eddie’s back and kissing his forehead.

“Bien. Tio’s the one that needs help,” Eddie replied, kissing Glady’s cheek and helping her with the food.

“Oye, how’s that new food, muñequita?” Oscar cooed as he walked towards Lily.

“No quiere comer. Me esta volviendo loco,” Nevada said, turning in his seat to look at Oscar. “Es para meterse la cuchara por la cabeza.”

“No niño, you gotta be patient,” Oscar replied. “Tres was like that too. Never wanted to eat anything.”

“What’d Melissa do?” Nevada asked, really wanting to know.

“She had OJ making funny faces at him and Melissa would just sneak the spoon in when he laughed,” Gladys answered as she began to open all the tupperwares and serve the food on plates.

“Mira, mira,” Oscar said, setting down the flan before he went to stand over Nevada’s shoulder. Crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue, he placed his thumb on his nose and began to babble.

Lily started to laugh and Nevada--seeing his opportunity for victory--quickly thrust the spoon into his daughter’s mouth. Lily grimaced slightly as she tasted the food for the first time, making Nevada and Oscar laugh at her expressions. Finally she swallowed, squealed in delight, and opened her mouth again.

“Viste? All it takes is one bite,” Oscar said as he patted Nevada’s shoulder. “Your abuela makes the best baby food in New York, Iliana.”

Lily cooed up at her grandfather as Nevada fed her more of the baby food.

“Oye, dale, you have her all the time. Give abuelo some time,” Oscar said, gently shoving Nevada out of the chair and taking his spot. “Dame el baby food. Ves y ayuda tu madre.”

Nevada snorted, nodding and going to help Gladys warm up their dinner.

“Eddie go wash up,” Nevada said, patting his nephew’s shoulder.

Gladys waited until Eddie had gone to the downstairs bathroom before she spoke softly to Nevada. “¿Como estas?”

He bobbed his shoulders. “Fine.”

She snorted softly. “You forget that I did ten years alone while Oscar was locked up,” she reminded him. “You miss her?”

“A little,” he mumbled.

“Nevada…”

He sighed heavily--he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “Yeah, I miss her.”

That was somewhat of an understatement; he didn’t just miss you, he worried about you. You weren’t like him. People like you got eaten alive on the inside unless they hooked up with someone who could watch their back. And even then, prison was not easy.

“She’s smart,” Gladys said. “She’ll be okay. So will you, Eddie and Lily.”

“I know,” he mumbled, taking Eddie’s plate out of the microwave and putting the next one in.

“You’re taking pictures of Lily for her, right?”

“Claro que si. She reminds me every time we go see her,” he answered.

“You’re doing good, mijo,” Gladys said, smiling and running a hand over the back of his head.

Nevada nodded and looked over his shoulder to see Oscar with an empty bowl, playing peekaboo with Lily. He smirked as the baby put her hands over her eyes, trying to mimic her grandfather’s movements.

“He loves babies,” Gladys said with a smile.

The First Word

Nevada and Eddie sat at a table near the back of the restaurant, the former doing his best to help with homework though he hardly remembered grasping the material when even he was in school. Usually it would be you helping Eddie with his homework, but with you in prison it fell to Nevada. He thought about hiring someone to do it for him--it wasn’t as though he wasn’t busy with Lily, who sat on his knee at that very moment, chewing on rubber keys--but Nevada had realized that he rather enjoyed this time with Eddie. Even though the preteen seemed to know more than he did about the pythagorean theorem.

“Just use the formula, mijo. That’s the easiest thing about algebra. If you know the right formula to use, it’s easy from there. Just fill in the numbers,” he said, bouncing his daughter on his knee absently as he watched Eddie fill in the correct numbers for x and y.

“When’s tia coming home?” Eddie asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Nevada’s face fell slightly. “I don’t know.”

“Tio Rafael said he’s working on finding a way to get her sentence reduced,” Eddie offered as he continued to solve the equation. “I just wondered.”

“Your tio Rafael, he’s a smart guy. If he says he can get her out, he will,” Nevada said.

It was surprising, even to him, any time he verbally expressed faith or favor towards Rafael. It wasn’t as though he hated your brother, but with he and the prosecutor being on opposite sides of the law it seemed logical to keep his distance.

“You think so?” Eddie asked, finally looking up to meet Nevada’s eyes.

“Yeah,” the older man replied, nodding his head as he looked back at the boy. “I’m working on trying to help, too.”

Eddie nodded, letting a soft sigh escape from his nostrils as he shifted his gaze back to his homework.

Lily pulled the toy from her mouth, shaking it in front of her and cooing to herself as with the hand not holding the keys, she examined each individual shaped implement, noticing how each was a different color.

“You think Lily misses her?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, of course she does,” Nevada mumbled.

“Think she’ll remember that tia wasn’t here right now?”

“Probably not, she’s too little. Right, princesa?” Nevada asked, looking down at his daughter, who tilted her head back to look up at him with her big, green eyes and a wide grin.

“There, I think I got it,” Eddie said, turning his notebook to show Nevada.

His uncle looked at the equation, nodding his head as he looked over the work. “Good job. Looks right to me, pero check the back of the book, see if you got it right.”

He picked Lily up and turned her to face him, pulling her up against his shoulder and letting her pat his scruffy cheek. She played with the short, coarse hairs on her father’s face, dribbling and opening her mouth to press it against Nevada’s skin. The older man snorted, using his free hand to thread his fingers through his daughter’s curls.

“I love you too, princesa,” he mumbled softly.

“Da-Da…”

Eddie whipped his head towards them, his mouth agape and eyes wide in surprise. “Whoa...did she just say dada?”

Nevada leaned his head away from Lily to look down at her. “I think so.”

“Da-Da,” Lily said again, her little hands swatting at Nevada’s nose. “Da-Da!”

Nevada grinned and peppered kisses against a little, plump cheek until his daughter was giggling and squirming away from the playful assault. As her father pressed a final kiss to her forehead, her eyes fell on the shiny object dangling from his neck, and she made an amused sound as one chubby hand took hold of it.

“Da-Da-Daaa,” she sang in a soft, high-pitched voice.

Oscar emerged from the back room and approached their table with a soft smirk. “Jefe, estamos lísto,” he said.

“Okay, dáme un minúto,” Nevada answered.

Oscar nodded once, turning to leave as Eddie looked up at his uncle.

“Tio…”

“Yeah, mijo?” Nevada replied, carefully taking his necklace away from Lily.

“Don’t die, okay?” Eddie said with a frown.

Nevada looked up at his nephew, corner of his mouth lifting as he shook his head. “I won’t.”

“Cause if you die, me and Lily will be all alone,” Eddie reminded him.

Nevada sighed heavily, nodding his head. “I know. Don’t worry, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

His answer seemed to satisfy Eddie, who nodded back at him and gave Nevada a tight smile. “Okay.”

“Da-Da-Da-Da-Da-Da…”