#of all the anons you struck me so deeply i just wanna HUG YOU HARD

[windydrawallday]

I’m sorry to hear you have been dealing with burnout and art block :( Take the much needed break you deserve to have! We understand that but just know I love seeing your art and your use of colors is always amazing to look at! Rest and keep up the great work!

Yeah orz it wasn't easy to keep at bay the desire to draw when my wrist was in pain-- I'm better now but my head feels quite empty, even making me stare blankly at the blank canvas when facing again the idea of making art hahaha ay

Lemme spill more beans here because gosh: I feel like I ran a marathon... on a treadmill. I put so much effort but because I don't see it moving anywhere, my tired brain registers it like failure.

But I know that's not true. I just need to hammer (gently) the real truth on my forehead for the next few days and take a good long breath.

That's what I'll try to do so, yeah! I'm not gonna give up this easy.

Resting is not quitting.

Thanks for the nice words and good wishes 💗 it really did good to my spirit to read this!

[werejusttouchingeachother]

DUBAI 2019 [August 28th, 5:00AM]

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 T/W: cursing Words: 2446 A/N: its... the final chapter. i hope it isn’t too disappointing and i can’t believe i just finished my first series (altho short) on here. this is a big moment and i’d wait longer to upload it but it seems right to do it on KyoongDay. for anyone and everyone who’s been with me through the whole ride, @realllllrica​ @jongins-laceglove​, @mongryong-the-corgi​ for hitting me up constantly with feedback, @hkynm​ for the constant support and discussions about baek and writing, @exosnet​ @bbh-net​ for all the support, silent supporters like @baekyoonbi​ @tiredgirltingz​ @lolii-moon​ (YES I SEE AND LOVE ALL OF YOU) and even the anons who reached out and everyone else, i love all of you and thank y’all so so much, may all your lives be filled with the same warmth and happiness that Baekhyunee emits ☀️💕

Dubai International Airport

His hands are nervously drumming against the handle of his luggage as he looks around while you quickly respond to Seoyeon’s text. You push your phone back into your pocket, swallowing slightly as you catch Baekhyun’s gaze from where he stands next to the car while Manager unloads all the bags from the trunk.

It had only been two nights ago when you’d taken Baekhyun to Trance and shown him all of Dubai. Earlier that day, you’d almost broke down as he left your office and thought that you were having a rerun of what happened at New York.

And yet, you didn’t. It felt like ages ago and it killed you now because as you gazed at him, you wished you could redo it all again just to relive every moment with him, the good and even the bad if only it meant to be in his arms again.

No matter how many times you’d been through this, it killed you every time you had to watch him leave.

You sighed as Baekhyun gave you a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. Jongin elbowed your side and you turned to the tall man, giving him a small smile as he cocks his head in the direction of Baekhyun.

“Go hug him before he starts crying,” Jongin teases and Baekhyun glares at him, already opening his mouth to curse at him. You grab his hand before he can and drag him around the Prado car, taking him to the front that’s facing the wall for some privacy as you look at him.

“Hey,” you say, cupping his cheeks with your hands. “Don’t stress so much. It’s okay. I’ll fly down sooner than you think, okay? You’ll be busy with SuperM and all the shows at America for a while anyway so forward your schedules to me and we’ll figure something out. Okay?”

He nods, sighing softly in between your hands as his gaze drops to the floor. You squeeze his cheeks slightly and his gaze darts back up as you mumble, “Eat properly, okay? I’ve told Jongin to tell me if you skip meals so you better not do it.”

“You too,” he rolls his eyes, pulling away from your hands and gripping them in his own instead. “You better not lose weight either.”

“You know I won’t. Seoyeon doesn’t let me.”

At this, he pouts. “Maybe you should come with me to monitor my eating and I won’t skip then.”

“Baekhyun.”

“Seoyeon can come too! To monitor you! We can form our own support triangle!”

“Shut up,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. He sighs as you encircle your arms around his slender waist, hugging him tightly to you.

“Soon,” you mumble softly. “I promise.”

Baekhyun holds you to him, asking, “Where’s your car?”

“The parking lot below this.”

“You can’t come see me off inside the airport, right?”

“No, the fans have been waiting for hours.” You look up then, tilting your head back to gaze at him. “Also, Dubai airport security is pretty strict so I can’t get very far inside without a ticket.”

Baekhyun sighs again before pulling back. You stare at each other in silence, eyes stinging slightly as you force yourself to not cry because you know if you did, it’d just hurt him and get him upset too which would then make you feel worse.

He doesn’t say anything as he leans forward, cupping your face and kissing you. You stumble back slightly as he leans his entire weight onto you, your back pressed up against the side of the care as his lips press into yours deeply in a way that you were certain he was savouring and cherishing each nanosecond, memorising it until the next time that your lips could meet again.

You hear someone clear their throat and Baekhyun pulls away reluctantly. He immediately crushes you to his chest again, hugging your head until you’re suffocating and you’re almost thankful that you can’t see him because you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep a grip over your emotions.

Baekhyun loosens his grip around you and you smile as you feel him gently kiss the top of your head before finally letting go. You smile up at him and he gives you one quick kiss before turning around.

You take in a shaky breath and step away from the car as Baekhyun quickly strides to Hyungnim, grabbing the passport and ticket from his hand as he headed for the glass doors at the right corner of the parking lot, leading to the airport. Jongin and Hyungnim turns to give you one last friendly wave and you nod at them with a smile as they follow him inside.

It was an unspoken agreement that both you and Baekhyun abided by—no matter how much it hurt, it always hurt a lot worse if you turned for one last glance so you both always left without looking back.

Your phone suddenly rings with the familiar notification bell saved for Baekhyun and you furrow your eyebrows, grabbing it from your pocket to check the message.

[4:13AM] So you may wanna check the backseat of your car for some pictures from a secret folder that I may have left for you to miss me.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you read the message. Secret folder, what—

Your eyes widen as it strikes you what exactly he’s talking about and you quickly run to the right, leading to the stairs downstairs to where your car was parked.

You’re slightly panting as you unlock the car door, and dive into the backseat, closing the door behind you.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out when you notice a familiar beige box placed on the floor of the car, grabbing it and placing it on the seat.

You grin like an idiot as you open the Louboutin box, fingers finding a hard white paper and turning it to read his familiar handwriting:

Ha, fooled ya! ^^ I know you haven’t worn out the ones I gave you last time (I know everything, okay?) but I really put a lot of thought into this so I hope you use them well. Also, check the glove compartment for the secret folder photos kekekekeke

You mutter curses under your breath as you bite down on your lip to stop yourself from splitting your face open with your grin as you pull away the paper wrappings and gasp aloud when the shoes are finally revealed.

The first thing you notice is that they’re customised—a sleek red body covered with what appeared to be black lacing.

You peer closer and your eyes widen as you feel your heart stutter slightly.

The intricate designs adorning the lace were the exact same that you’d drawn by your own hand decades ago; your first design as a child: the half-circle sun you’d drawn in between two upside-down v’s that were mountains.

A design that was familiar and known to every kid whether artistic or not, it was the one you’d been most proud of as you incorporated it into your very first designs that you’d launched at Paris—both for children and adults, by developing the base circle and triangle into a more elaborate geometric pattern with bold and monochrome colours in a way that it struck as familiar and funky to everyone alike.

A detail you’d gushed about in passing, long ago to Baekhyun—not having expected for him to remember it.

You gaze at the red-soled heels in awe, exhaling softly in disbelief as you wonder how he even thought of doing this. The geometric designs added a beauty to the Louboutins that you didn’t even dream of, heightening its beauty with the complementing red-sole.

You glance at the note again, eyes falling on the last words and reminding you of the glove compartment.

Feeling too impatient to step out, you just throw your leg over the steering and climb to the front seat, grunting as you feel the gearshift hit your side in your hurry. You sit down with a heavy breath, mentally preparing yourself for the photographs of yourself that your insane boyfriend had, for some reason, thought would be hilarious to print them out for you.

“Byun Baekhyun, I swear to God,” you mutter under your breath, opening the glove compartment slowly. “If it’s the blowjob pictures, I’m gonna—”

You stop as you notice the familiar black album cover of City Lights that you were certain you’d last seen in your apartment, next to your sound system with the marker that Baekhyun had carelessly left without placing it back in the shelf.

Frowning in confusion, you take the photobook carefully, recognising it as the one without the photocards. You pull it to your lap, feeling the hard circular disk and opening the last page where it was, except now the shiny silver surface had been signed with the marker:

To my love, my soul and my heart My moon, Y/N

You smile as you read the words, fingers flipping through the photobook and suddenly, a paper falls out onto your lap.

Placing the photobook back in the compartment, you unfold the paper and start reading the letter:

I hope you’re happy cause I didn’t sign anywhere except on the disk, okay? I just wanted to write this because I know I don’t have enough time to tell you and there’s so much I want to say. I’m sure you remember this but the first time I left you in 2017, at Paris—I ran back to the airport’s parking lot and found you in your car just like how you probably are reading this right now, to confess to you for the first time. I knew it was too quick and I knew it might scare you but I wanted to say it anyway. We’ve always rushed, Y/N. I rushed to judge you at Paris, you rushed into a grudge because of my ignorant words. We both rushed at that power room and then we waited what seemed like forever to finally admit the truth to each other. We waited forever to kiss and god, we waited fucking centuries to have each other. I didn’t care when I finally told you I love you because I knew I didn’t want to wait anymore. Because I meant it. I meant it then and I mean it every day—on the many days that I drowsily say it at the end of a call, on the fewer days when we’re both so busy that we forget to remind it to each other, and on the even lesser days that I mumble it into your hair when I hold you close in my arms. I know you hate it when I apologise for the way things are because you say they’re already perfect as is, and I know that if I doubt it, I can always look at you and be reassured of the same. You see me as your beacon of hope, the sunlight in your darkness but you have no idea what you do to me, Y/N. You’re the strongest person I know. The first time I saw you at Paris, you’d been yelling at poor Jun Ki about the broken lights and I remember thinking that you were like some kind of ice queen in her own lair. And then as I pissed you off throughout the show, turned you on at the power room, watched you fall in love with me over tteokbokkis at Paris (okay, it was me who fell in love), I realised how much of a front you’ve put up all your life. And now, I realise how much you’ve grown ever since that first time I met you. Now I’m not crediting myself for it (maybe a little bit) but I like to think that I had something to do with warming all that ice down, melting it away with my light.

You call me your sunshine but you’re my moon, Y/N. Being blinded by these lights all the time, you’d think it’d be easier to see but there’s so many times when I feel lost and helpless, where I have to shine blindly in the direction of the cameras and just blindly smile, pretending that I’m okay. But then you’re there to hold me, you’re there to guide me with your light through the dark. You’re there to tell me that I am okay and I can finally believe it because I know you’re there, holding my hand in my dark that’s blinded by light. You think I shine down on your darkness but you guide me away from mine. There aren’t enough words in any language to ever express how much I love you for the comfort that you are, for the home that you’ve become. And even if there are, I don’t know half as many languages as you so this is the best I can do, okay?

I know you’re a lot better than you were when we first met but I still want you to take better care of yourself, Y/N. I trust Seoyeon to make sure that you aren’t skipping meals and I’ve told her about your little couch situation, so you better start sleeping on that bed, baby. You may not be a model on the runway but it’ll hurt your back and neck and you’re almost always on your feet during your shows so please sleep better. Listen to Jongdae in your room, if that helps (or I’ll make covers of his entire album and send it so you can listen to me instead. Yeah, I’ll do that. Delete his album, don’t listen to him in your room, he has his girlfriend for that). Also as much as I enjoyed your little Arabic tradition, please don’t do it too much. I looked it up and it DOES have tobacco and it IS harmful so you better find another activity to do when you’re stressed about work. Again, I’ve mentioned this to Seoyeon and I think she’s banned you from shisha so yeah, don’t be mad but I love you hehe ^^

My ice queen who became my moon, I love you and miss you already. Fly back to me as soon as you can. Always wanting to stroll more streets with you in yet another exotic city. Always wanting to listen to you throw shade on more tourist guides. Always waiting to be in your arms again.

Your favourite man in the world, Always your sunshine, Baekhyunnieee 'ㅅ'

[the end.]

[dontshootmespence]

A New Start

A/N: An anon request for a follow-up to So Little Left to Give, where the team finds out Spencer is depressed. @coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 

                                                              -----

Day in and day out, Spencer did what he could for his friends, because if he didn’t, he felt worse about himself than he already did. Those spiraling thoughts would swirl harder within his mind until the only thing he could do to make himself feel better was sleep.

Growing up, he’d never had friends, so the desire to be a friend to everyone drove his very being, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to take helping everyone through their problems, both big and small, while he still wallowed in his own problems. In his mind, his problems would never permanently go away, they would float in and out of existence, so why spend time on himself when he could help someone else – any one of the people he loved so much.

He knew he wasn’t okay. He realized that he wasn’t acting the same way around his friends as he normally had. But he was so deep in a hole he really wasn’t sure how to get himself out, or even how to go about starting to get himself out. For all his intelligence, he wasn’t sure where to go save for walk through limbo for the foreseeable future.

“Hey, Spence,” JJ said cheerfully as he walked in that morning. She gave him a small wave, a bright smile adorning her face. She’d said something the previous night about having a movie night with Henry; they must’ve enjoyed themselves.

Spencer did his very best to give her his normal toothless smile and wave, but even as he was trying to force it he could tell it didn’t come off the right way. Deeply and truly, he felt like he was walking through a world that was moving at a slightly faster pace than he was. Things were happening around him and he was well aware of what they were, but he couldn’t for the life of him react fast enough. “Hi, JJ,” he replied after sitting down at his desk.

As the morning wore on and the rest of the team came in, Spencer watched the smiles on their faces, wondering what put them there and how he might be able to feel that way himself. After a while, he found himself too saddened by his circumstances to pay attention to everyone else, so he lost himself in his paperwork and allowed his mind to go blank, for when his mind was blank, he existed just as he was, instead of remaining with the mounting hopes and expectations that drew the air right out of his lungs day after day.

---

“Hotch,” JJ said as she walked into his office that morning. “Can I talk to you?”

The Unit Chief nodded and ushered her in. He had a feeling he knew what she wanted to talk about, and it had been troubling him too. “Is something wrong?”

JJ grimaced, sitting down across from Hotch as she contemplated how to go about this. She just knew she had to do something; Spencer wasn’t okay. “Lately, I’ve been noticing that Spencer seems particularly troubled…he hasn’t spoken to me about anything, but I think he might be depressed.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of too,” he sighed. For months, Hotch had noticed that Spencer was the one that people went to in order to work through their problems. It might have made sense considering all that he’d been through; he could tell where everyone was coming. If Spencer was nothing else, he was empathetic. But despite all his empathy, and his desire to help the ones he loved, he couldn’t be everything to everyone and still manage to hold himself together, and if Hotch had to hazard a guess, Spencer had been falling apart for a few months. “I’ve noticed it on and off for a while. I was actually going to talk to everyone this week and see if they wanted to talk to him together.”

JJ nodded hopefully, the eagerness to help her friend overriding everything else. “I’m in. Whenever. Just let me know.”

---

Over the course of the next week, Hotch called Alex, Garcia, Rossi and Morgan into his office. All four of them could pinpoint one time or another over the last three months that Spencer had helped them through something, but not that he’d confided in them. They’d all noticed that he seemed to be walking around with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and due to his pride and his long-standing existence of loneliness and isolation, he probably wouldn’t come to any of them unless he was truly at rock bottom.

They were going to cut this off before it began. Hitting rock bottom wasn’t going to happen as long as his team had anything to say about it. At the start of the next week, Hotch called everyone into the round table room for a briefing for the next case, but there was no case to be had, and everyone knew it but Spencer.

“Spence,” JJ said. She’d elected to start things out because he would undoubtedly be more open to her than anyone else. “We’re worried about you.”

---

He shouldn’t have felt betrayed. He should’ve felt grateful, but he wasn’t. “Why?” he asked hotly, his brows furrowing in annoyance. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Morgan replied quickly. Spencer was about to protest again, but Morgan lifted his finger and told him to shut up for a second. “I know you don’t know how to accept help. You rarely do and believe me I get it. It’s one of the things we have in common, but you are walking around helping everyone else and you aren’t taking care of yourself.”

So they’d noticed. Of course they did, he thought to himself. They’re profilers; that’s what they do. As they all continued to speak, Spencer did his best to keep the tears at bay. They were fighting so hard to come out, but he knew as soon as they were released, they wouldn’t stop, and he didn’t want to lose control over one of the few things he’d had control of anymore, so again he found himself denying it. “I appreciate your concern, everyone,” he said, looking down at his lap where he was fidgeting his fingers together. “But I’m okay.”

“Spencer,” Alex said, noticing that he was about to stand up and leave. For some reason, she had the power to keep him in place – even more so than JJ. Alex’s voice was soothing, like his mother’s, and concern poured out of every word like thick molasses. “In the past few months, I know I’ve come to you a few times, and you’ve helped me so much. Please let us help you.” It was the small break in her voice at the end of the sentence that broke him.

A few lone tears rolled down his cheeks, and then more, and then they were coming in droves. “What can you do to help?” He asked, his voice cracking like glass near to breaking. “How can I be helped? I should be fine.”

“But you’re not,” Garcia said, placing her hand over his. “You know we are always here to talk, but you need the help of a professional. Someone you can talk to whose job it is to understand what you’re going through.”

“I don’t even know what I’m going through!” He snapped. Garcia only held on tighter. “I have a good job. I have great friends. Why am I not okay?!”

“Sometimes the mind feels how it feels with no explanation,” Hotch said. He was leaned up against the doorframe of the conference room keeping watch over his flock. He hated when any one of them were in pain, because they were all so close; if one was in pain, they were all in pain. “None of us have an answer, but a professional might.”

“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He honestly wasn’t even sure why he was sad, so how was he supposed to talk to a doctor.

Rossi pulled out a card with a couple of names on it. “These are the best psychiatrists in the area,” he said with a strained smile. “Will you call one of them? Please? We all care about you too much to watch you walking around with the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Spencer closed his eyes, the tears hot against his skin as they fell to the ground. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll call someone.” When he looked up, all of his friends were crying as well. One by one, they all got up and gave him hugs. JJ, Alex and Garcia of course peppered his face in millions of kisses.

Alex was the last one to leave. With her arms outstretched, she gathered him into her and cupped the back of his head. “I know how hard it can be to talk with people, but we are all here for you if you ever need to talk about anything. At all.” For a few moments, Spencer just silently cried into her shoulder, and she held him like he was her own child whose knee had just been scraped outside. “Sometimes we are just sad. The point is that we take the necessary steps in order to not stay there. This is the beginning and we’ll be there for you every step of the way.”

When Spencer pulled away, Alex grabbed his face in both her hands and kissed his cheek. “I am always here.” She too realized the connection they had. Although JJ was his best friend, Alex was fairly certain that Spencer felt most comfortable confiding in her. “Always. Anytime. No matter what.”

Spencer nodded her head and gave her another small hug before walking out of the conference room and back toward his desk. Everything went back to normal, with all kinds of hustle and bustle around the office as he stared at the card. For the rest of the day, he did paperwork and looked up the names of the psychiatrists that Rossi had given him. He found one that struck him in particular and dialed the phone. “Hello, this is Dr. Musajati’s office. How can I help you?”

“My name is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he said as Alex passed his desk. “I was wondering if you were taking new patients and if I might be able to make an appointment.”

Thankfully, they were, so he made an appointment for the following week and hung up the phone, feeling slightly lighter than he had in weeks. “All ready for next week.”

“Good,” Alex smiled. “A new start. Wanna go out for lunch? You and me? We can talk a little.”

Spencer stood up and grabbed his jacket, sliding it on as he pushed his desk in. “I’d like that,” he replied.

As they began walking toward the elevator to go to lunch, he could tell with each step that this was going to be a long and arduous process, but he’d done it before, and he could do it again.

[brimbrimbrimbrim]

Hi I hate to ask this but I've had the worst day of my life, a sprained ankle and then a car accident. It's been horribly rough. Could I get a small one shot Lucas fic of taking a liking to and comforting a found captive?

Don’t apologize for asking, Anon. That sounds like a terrible day. I hope you recover mentally, physically and financially very soon. Car accidents are terrible and a sprained ankle is rough. I hope this fic helps ease some of the crappy feels that today has given you. Much love for you on your road to recovery.

It started off with Lucas getting bored enough to watch all the VHS tapes he could salvage - ending up with a bundle of his Ma’s collection and nothing else to do. So, he sat around with his thumb up his ass and suffered through Beaches, Titanic and… some stupid Wayne Newton thing while eating bags of cheese puffs and peanuts.

By the end of Steel Magnolias, he felt like someone had ripped his balls off and sewn a pussy on him. All he could think about was cuddling and fawning over a girl of his own, and it made him nearly sick.

He sat around for another two days thinking about what it’d be like to have a girlfriend and jus’…hold hands. Hold hands?! Like he was some fuckin’ prepubescent brat. He wanted to fuck and cum balls deep in some hot cunt, not sit around and hold hands all day. But he did, and so he sat around with a blank TV and a heartache, not knowing what to do with himself.

On the third day of his self-inflicted misery, the ol’ man came in with two bodies.

“Morgue’s overrun, boy. I’m sticking these down in the stalls. They ain’t been fed yet so don’t you touch ‘em, ya here?!”

“Whatever,” he replied, not thinking twice about it cause on account of the goop his brain had become and got a nice crack in the back of his head with a baseball bat for his trouble.

After dear ol’ dad had taken down a charter bus full of shitheels lookin’ to spend the weekend in New Orleans for the big fuckin’ Mardi Gras parade, Lucas got stuck with two captives when the basement started overflowing with new arrivals. Two too many, he grumbled, hearing one of them start screamin’ after only two hours strapped up.

Ain’t nobody got time fer this, he thought.

He had other shit to do (he didn’t), and it wasn’t even like he could use ‘em for test subjects either so what good were they but an annoyance? They’d both been there since this morning, and it only took until now for Lucas to realize one of ‘em wasn’t screaming - hadn’t been since Daddy brought ‘em by.

Typically it wouldn’t peak his interest - the silence - but the last bitch he’d tossed in the rat’s nest had long since turned to bones, and he was bored. The tapes had made him weak at heart, and he couldn’t stand watching another one of his Ma’s sentimental tear fests.

Just the thought was making him wanna puke.

Lucas hunched over his desk, frowned and gave the little joystick a push to the right, panning camera nine over to the quiet one all tied up in one of the horse stalls.

A girl, Lucas noticed immediately. She was quiet, reserved and hadn’t moved much. Without much reason to, Lucas hadn’t gone down since they’d been brought in and secured to their posts. He hadn’t bothered to look at ‘em either since he wasn’t supposed to play with ‘em. Shoulda took a little trip down though, cause the chick looked kind of hot once he zoomed in a bit. Get rid of the blood and dirt, and she’d been the nicest lookin’ bitch to ever get past the gates.

“Ain’t it just peachy ah’ get stuck with a dumb whore in the barn…” he grumbled.  She looked like one too (not really), but guess that coulda’ been the fact that she’d been stripped down to her panties. At this angle, he couldn’t see her tits, but her back was bare, so she wasn’t wearing a bra or nothin’.

Shame - shame he didn’t have a good angle for a free viewing.

His Pa never said he couldn’t have himself a look-see. As long as he didn’t chuck her in the Birthday Room, who cared if he had a little fun? All he wanted was a look and maybe a hug or some snuggles - No! No, he just wanted to watch her heaving tits as he jerked off on the floor in front of her. He wanted to slip his dick between ‘em and… ugh…

Lucas wanted good night’s sleep with a warm body beside him, in all honesty. It got pretty lonely now that he was off the grid more or less - just enough connection established to contact his people and set up communication between all the cameras and speakers. No more porn to toss his rocks off to. No cam girls to watch while he fucked his fist, pretending it was a pussy. And now, worst of all, he’d brainwashed himself into wanting something more innocent than a good fuck. Maybe when the girl down in the barn passed out, he’d go lay next to her…

The girl down in the stall shifted, stretching a long pale leg across a bed of musty hay.

Shit! Where was his Polaroid at? Worse case scenario he’d snap a picture of her and lay in bed looking at it like a freak.

Four upturned boxes and a messy bed later, Lucas was loading up his ol’ polaroid camera with a dozen blanks, fingers shaking. He was only a bit ashamed of how low he was willing to go for some semblance of intimacy, but hell… he was desperate, and it was hard enough keeping his head clear as it was.

It was pretty pointless, but he rubbed his face clean of the blood from earlier and threw his door open. Lucas kicked his heels into the stairs, eyeing the molded that were hanging off the walls. They’re gaping jaws clicked open, swinging towards him jus’ enough to know it wasn’t some escapee running fer the hills. One of ‘em gurgled, gagged and puked up a messy wad of bones as Lucas passed it by.

Easily ignored, when his heart was busy jackhammering at the thought of this girl his Pa had brought in.

The girl was sitting in the stall, a chain wrapped around her waist, connecting her manacled wrists and branching out to the pole she was resting against. She didn’t have much wiggle room, but all in all, it wasn’t as bad as getting cramped into one o’ them dog crates.

She didn’t even bother lookin’ at him as his sneakers crunched over brittle hay, pausing outside the wooden gate. A fountain of pale hair hung down in front of her face, covering the tops of her tits.

“Hey-hey, come on, bitch! Wake up!” He snorted as she jerked but did little else. Only when he growled and gave the gate a hard kick did she swayed. A hint of perky nipple poked out of her thick hair as she lifted her head; blood-matted hair slipping out of her eyes. Blue eyes, like his own, looked up at him, gazing under wet lashes.

She was a hottie, and Lucas was struck half dumb for a good long minute jus’ looking at her.

“My leg’s broken,” she whispered. Pain made her voice throaty, ragged enough he found himself licking his lips, wondering if he should have brought her a soda or somethin’. He palmed his Polaroid, nodding to her with the tip of his chin.

“I’ll set it fer ya if ya give me a smile. I’ll even bring you upstairs and get ya somethin’ to eat. How about that? Sounds like ah sweet little deal, don’t it? Jus’ gotta say cheese!”

“It doesn’t and I won’t,” she said, leaning back against the wooden pole, exposing her bare tits through a curtain of dirty hair, uncaring.

Lucas popped himself a picture without obscuring his view with the shitty glass lens. All she did was blink at the flash and nothing more. No rebuttal, no tears or anything else he’d have expected. Hell, Lucas even had a running shower up there. How could she say no that kinda offer?

Slowly, checking the barn entrance with a narrowed look, he smashed the lock on the gate and swung it open. The noise or the implication made her stiffen over the hay bed. In her lap, she curled her fingers and closed her eyes. Dry, cracked lips, which probably looked pretty full and sexy when she wasn’t dehydrated, mouthed words… no, they mouthed numbers.

Lucas shoved his shoulder into the wooden post as he read her lips while she chanted math equations, solving for X and Y in some weird, brainy coping mechanism. Probably thought he was gonna rape her or somethin’. All the chicks that came through here thought he would…kinda got insulting after ah while.

“Ya forgot to carry the four, sweetheart…” he told her, watching as she ignored him, continuing despite her fuck up.

Kinda interesting. Usually, everyone just begged and screamed for someone to come rescue ‘em - like they were a princess in some wild fairy tale. This one accepted her fate, or at least what she thought was gonna happen, and did her best to prepare for it. Lucas liked that - respected it. And so he yanked the film from his camera, gave it a couples flaps until the badly lit sight of her with those cute tits came full color. He threw the picture at her, snorted when she kept on dividing and subtracting and left her there.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Lucas got itchy again.

All night he’d been watching her through the camera, ignoring the stupid asshat in the stall beside her as he screamed. It was hard to see through the snowy lenses, but Lucas was pretty sure she was still miming mathematics to herself. She didn’t sleep, at least not for more than half an hour maybe. Her unbroken leg would kick or stretch and once he saw her turn her head up towards the camera, staring at him.

“Come and do it already,” she’d say, making his gut churn sickly.

After his ol’ man had come in for the retard with the broken vocal chords, Lucas stuffed a bag of skittles in his pocket, grabbed a can of soda and hopped the stairs to see his adorable brainiac.

She was docile, only watching him, never begging, as he swung the gate open and stepped inside. The stall was narrow but spacious, but Lucas threw himself down beside her despite having enough room to host an orgy if he wanted. The girl tipped her head back and breathed deeply, ready for whatever she thought he was gonna do.

“Skittles?” he offered, shaking the packet near his jaw with a feral grin that made his cheeks ache. He’d forgotten how to smile, so a grin would have to do.

The barest touch of her tongue between her lips made Lucas swallow. In her lap he noticed her fingers twitch.

“…why?”

He didn’t need a reason, but he had one, ‘course he did. Lucas wasn’t gonna tell her, though, so he just shrugged and tore the corner off the packet, shaking a few into his palm. All he needed to do was stare at her hands fer a few seconds before she got the idea and offered her palms to him; shackles clinking. Bruises and bloody scabs ran like bracelets around her wrists.

He dropped a few sickly bright skittles into her palm and watched her wince, trying to put them in her mouth. If he weren’t so sure she’d bite his fingers off or curl her nose in disgust, he’d have fed them to her.

“So, ya like numbers, huh?” He waited for her to say something, but she merely sucked the Skittles in her mouth with half-closed eyes; savoring the sugar in silence.

“Me too,” he sighed, scooting a little closer to her until he just missed bumping her broken leg.

“My Pa said I was gifted when ah’ was younger. But hell! - Guess geniuses go crazy every damn day, huh? Jus’ another one with a bad brain.” It felt better talkin’ to someone that wasn’t Eveline…or imaginary like Oliver had been (sometimes still was). Even if she didn’t talk back, Lucas liked laying back in the barn with her. Nothin’ else better to do anyhow and it was the closest he dared to get to something resembling cuddles. Not that he wanted that… obviously.

“… can I have some more?” she asked, sounding so tiny and small that somethin’ in Lucas started to hurt. He looked up at her from the soft ground, saw how empty her eyes were - like a dead sea - and handed her the whole bag of skittles. The little, hopeless smile she gave him made his chest tighten like there was a hook buried in it.

The only thing that sucked about dosing himself with that serum was all the emotions he had coming back to him. That’s all it was. Could’ah done without ‘em, if he were honest, but the girl ate her candy through the pain, meeting her hands halfway down and somethin’ about giving her that little act of kindness made him wanna do more and more… and more.

For the next two days, he spent most of his time either telling himself not to go down and see her, or sitting with her in the barn, feeding her junk food, handing her bottles of water or talking to her (actually talking to himself, but that was neither here nor there).

Eventually, he went down to see her with a real goal in mind - not just trying to keep her alive. He brought the bolt cutters with him. The ol’ man wouldn’t sweat one little captive - not when he had dozens of ‘em fresh and ready to be hatched. If his Pa said anything, Lucas could just tell ‘im the molded got hungry and climbed the gate. Easy.

She withdrew at the sight of him with the cutters in hand, but still, she didn’t beg or scream. Lucas cut her chains without a word and tore her manacles off as easily as if they’d been clay. When he grabbed her around the waist, careful of the raw red skin where her chains had been, he felt her muscles tighten. Not one to take that shit personally, Lucas tried to smile but ended up grinning and slung her over his shoulder… only then did she scream. He could feel her tears soak through the back of his hoodie and her broken leg bang against his chest.

Lucas tried not to let the sounds of her agony bother him, but they did. Every step made him wince as she bawled her eyes out, shouting and begging him to stop - that it hurt 'it hurt so bad!’

In a few minutes, she’d be right as rain, but the pathetic, sloppy sounds still wedged their way under his skin somehow.

She sobbed when he set her down on his couch, fingers running along her broken thigh like fluttering leaves; listless. Pain lined her body - her face and brows. The lights above their heads highlight the heavy fall of tears that made Lucas feel guilty for some fucking reason. Not like he’d broken her leg…

He grumbled and left her there to her misery as he went to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of the good stuff for her and his last candy bar. Maybe she’d be more apt to forgive him if he showered her with sugar. Wouldn’t hurt, right? - And he was pretty desperate at that point.

When he returned, she was halfway across the floor, dragging herself towards the door. A long, scattered line of dark blood following her line a snail trail.

“Hahaaaa’ah shit, sweetheart. Where’d you think yur goin’? Ain’t nothing out there but moldy freaks with them teeth waitin’ fer ya,” he laughed at her, hamming it up as his gut pulled when she merely whimpered and pulled herself another few inches across the floor.

Badass, bitch. Smart and sturdy and cute… didn’t find many of those anymore. Not that Lucas would know really. He never did get out much before Evie showed up - didn’t do much talking to girls even before he was labeled the crazy head.

Lucas swallowed and knelt down beside her, pulling at her ankle. She howled, hissed and threw a fist into his face. Took him by surprise, but it was weak and barely did more than sting. He hadn’t meant to pull at the busted leg like that.

Didn’t matter, though. He was gonna fix her, and she could hit him all she wanted if it made her feel better, Lucas could take it even if she broke his jaw. He gave her a hard look and poured the bottle’s cool, slick contents over her thigh.

Those wet blues fluttered closed, as the shit took effect.

“… I can feel my bones snapping.”

Lucas grinned, biting his lip to keep most of the infectious glee inside until he could breathe it back down, “Yeah, how about that? Feelin’ pretty good by now I reckon.”

She twisted at the waist, running a hand over her healed thigh before giving him a calculating look, “I-I don’t understand.”

“Bout what?”

“Everything,” she whispered, pulling her legs in, laying an arm over her chest with a slight blush. Guess now that she wasn’t in so much pain she had enough sense to be embarrassed by her tits hanging free. Lucas liked lookin’ at ‘em, but that free fun was over. If he’d wanted to keep ogling her, he coulda just kept her in the horse stall. Naw, Lucas wanted her - wanted to hug her close and wash away the blood and dirty, pat the wounds dry and kiss them better. It was real fuckin’ sappy and stupid and yet he didn’t bother worrying about it now that her leg was healed.

“T-this,” she started, inhaling brutally as Lucas dared put a hand on his calf, “you can’t kill her, take her away from me like that - you can’t snap my fucking leg in half and throw me in some damn pig pen and… and… and feed me candy like some pet and now this?!”

Lucas frowned, feeling like someone had a knife stuck in his stomach, giving it a good wiggle with each seething word.  She shook and cried silent tears, staring heatedly at him while he sat there frozen, just wanting to wrap his arm around her.

As more grief poured outta her, her lips started to quiver like they were hooked up to car batteries, “That asshole h-he killed 'er and now you wanna… just do it already! Just do it!”

Her fists coiled and like a feral cat, she came at him, throwing a jab at his chest and another up into his chin.

Lucas hissed, grabbing at her wrists and pulled her up over his thighs, keeping her claws out of his eyes as she trembled and sobbed; leaking wet tears down into his lap. The only crying girl he’d helped was Zoe when they were teenagers when some cunt had called her fat during lunch. This was… Lucas tried to stop looking at her tits as they bounced while she cried - sought to halt the boner from growing between his legs as her hair tickled the back of his hands. Her eyes opened wide, stared up at him, and suddenly she collapsed into his chest; sniffling.

“Ain’t gonna rape ya…” he told her; pretty lame sounding in truth, but he wasn’t sure what to do with a crazy chick in his lap, curling her fingers around his sides… hugging him hatefully. Bitch was insane, but Lucas couldn’t ignore the warmth he felt as she held him around the middle, trying to suck some sort of comfort from him.

Lucas found himself wrapping his arms around her, holding her bare shoulders, rubbing her shivering, naked back as she whimpered into his chest. Shit circumstances and all, but Lucas loved every second of the contact. She was warm and soft…

“Shh… Hush, now,” he muttered, doing what his Mama used to do for him when he had nightmares… or scuffed up his knees on the stairs. The words just sorta came out without much thought to it, and before Lucas knew what was happenin’, he was whispering sweet nothings to this chick while she breathed easy against him. There on the floor, he held her, feeling her heart thud gently against his stomach.

It was the first real intimate contact he’d had since Eveline showed up, long before that even…and suddenly he couldn’t get enough of it. Lucas groaned, pulling her up and cradled her carefully in his lap. She only struggled for a second before sinking into his arms silently, breathing slow and gentle. Lucas inhaled the stale, blood tinged smell of her hair, found something sweet buried underneath the dirt and sighed.

“Thanks,” he muttered; lips on her scalp. Down beside his stomach, he felt a soft touch, like a thumb brushing the jut of his ribs and shuddered in pleasure.

If this was how good it felt to be held - to hold - and offer comfort then Lucas decided he wasn’t gonna let his Pa get this one. Lucas was gonna keep her safe and sound, and she wasn’t ever gonna feel pain again. If he had to kill ‘em all… he’d do it, just to keep her from cryin’ ever again.