#coming out journey

[artinvain]

chatting to my middle-aged African mom about my girlfriend, our future and the fact that she told her mom about us. she’s been grappling with my sexuality - not in that she doesn’t respect or accept me because she does. more that she need to understand it (the same way I don’t understand hetero relationships). now we’re about to chat outside and I told her I’m gonna smoke a little weed and she was like “okay,”

healing is possible my friends.

[girltalkcollectives]

Eight Years of Telling Myself “It’s Probably Just a Phase” (Spoiler Alert: It Wasn’t)

I was 12 when I thought “I might be bisexual,” and 20 when I finally stopped following that thought with “but probably not.” That’s eight whole years of playing mental ping-pong with my own identity.

You know that thing where you’re watching a movie and find yourself equally attracted to both the male and female lead, but then spend the next two hours convincing yourself it’s just “appreciating” their beauty? Yeah, did that for about a decade.

The mental gymnastics I put myself through were honestly Olympic level:

At 12: “I think I like girls too.”

Also at 12: “But everyone thinks girls are pretty, right?”

At 15: “Okay, maybe I’m bi.”

Also at 15: “It’s probably just hormones.”

At 17: “I definitely like both.”

Also at 17: “No, there’s no way.”

At 19: “I’m bisexual!”

Also at 19: “Unless…?”

It’s wild how you can be so sure of something one day and completely doubt it the next. Like yes, I’ve had crushes on multiple genders since middle school, but what if I’m just really friendly?

The amount of times I’ve googled “Am I bisexual?” is honestly embarrassing. As if there’s going to be some magical quiz that finally gives me permission to claim this identity.

And can we talk about how unhelpful society is with all this?

“It’s just a phase.”

(Eight years is a long phase, Karen.)

“You’re just confused.”

(About many things, yes, but not this.)

“You’ll pick a side eventually.”

(The only side I’m picking is fries with that.)

“But you’ve only dated men!”

(And you’ve only dated men too, Sarah, does that make you a virgin?)

The worst part wasn’t even the external doubt — it was the internal voices. The constant questioning. The feeling that I wasn’t “bi enough” because my attractions to different genders felt different. Like somehow I needed a perfectly balanced attraction meter to qualify.

Nobody tells you that being bi doesn’t mean your attraction to different genders has to be identical. That it can shift and flow. That you don’t need a 50/50 split to be valid.

I spent so long thinking I wasn’t bisexual because I didn’t fit the stereotype. Because I didn’t have my big gay awakening moment at pride wearing a rainbow flag as a cape. Because my journey was more like:

Sees pretty girl

“Wow, she’s gorgeous!”

Five hours of questioning my entire identity

Concludes it’s probably just appreciation

Repeat for eight years

But here’s what finally clicked at 20: There is no “bi enough.” There’s no test to pass. No quota to meet. No perfect balance to achieve.

Being bisexual isn’t about proving anything to anyone. It’s not about meeting some arbitrary criteria. It’s about finally looking at yourself and saying “Oh, this makes sense.”

To my 12-year-old self: You weren’t confused. You were just discovering who you are.

To my 15-year-old self: Those butterflies you got around your male best friend and female lab partner? Both real. Both valid.

To my 17-year-old self: You weren’t “going through a phase.” You were going through self-discovery.

And to my current self: You don’t need to keep questioning something you’ve known for eight years.

Sometimes I wonder how much sooner I would have accepted myself if someone had told me:

Bisexuality doesn’t have an equal attraction requirement

Your identity is valid regardless of your dating history

You don’t need to “prove” your sexuality to anyone

Doubt doesn’t make your identity less real

You’re allowed to take time to figure it out

So here I am at 20, finally comfortable saying: I’m bisexual. No “probably” about it. No “but” following it. Just me, finally accepting something I’ve known since I was 12.

Plot twist: Maybe the real phase was pretending it was a phase.

[mienar]

the wandering painter, part one

instagram | shop | commission info

[ruporas]

your love returns in tragedy (ID in alt)

[bacchuschucklefuck]

they licensed his ass

my finished piece of the FWMS (official name definitely 100%) thing we started a few days ago! I had fun I hope folks had and/or continue to have fun with the sketch as well.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.

(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)

[whichcouldmeanothing]

“fangs lungs ankles” – Adrianne Lenker

[royaltea000]

Me when I’m in a being coerced into parenthood competition and my opponent is sun wukong

[crispinkiss]

the looperrrr

[heartstopperthoughts]

Anyone who’s been saying that Nick and Charlie are too sexually pure like “oh they’re teenage boys, they’d be having a lot of sex” has clearly never read the novella

[wandixx]

"There is only so much you can for the dead" part 2

continuation to this, I should probably make an original title at some point

trigger warnings: graphic describtion of Danny's death

Moments of blissed, deadly stillness felt unfairly short. It was less than blink of an eye, less than a drop of darkness after he asked Team for the last time to leave and before he woke up, in exactly same state that he was when portal spat him out. He could barely perceive his limbs, and what he could, was consumed by agonising pain.

Fuck, he hated Death Days. Absolutely horrible experience.

His nerves were on fire, electricity dancing and burning across them. His veins and lungs and nostrils and ears and stomach and eyes and mouth and every little crevice of his body was filled with ectoplasm, like liquid fire and evaporated ice, drowning him at every attempted breath. He was crushed by an unimaginable weight, at the same time as his body exploded. He was just coherent enough to feel his bones breaking, cells bursting, his very molecules being rearranged and destroyed and rebuilt but not coherent enough to tell if his scream was anything louder than a whimper.

He was in the middle of the crowd that screamed louder than he could handle, as if every person who ever got to Ghost Zone used this exact moment to let out all of their anguish, hands dragging and pulling and squeezing and brushing at every inch of his skin. He was alone like no one was ever before, in silence that was deafening. He could be stomped to death any second without anyone turning his head, and so separate from everything that he could be only existing being.

He couldn’t help but wait for Death, merciless and brutal, whose twisted children invaded his bed time stories since he could understood words, whose corrupted children he was taught to hate. She was hideous and horrifying, but against everything, she was familiar and he wanted, needed, to see one intimate face in the situation that was so wrong, wrong, wrong. He waited for her to rip his last breath away so everything would stop.

If he had a scrap of himself that could feel worse, it’d cry when he felt her getting away from him, slipping between the fingers that were both tense and limp, impossible to control but possible to feel, broken and twitching. She was getting away but pain wasn’t lessening, maybe even getting worse, to the point where it was only thing that filled his brain.

And then it all stopped. No pain, not even any left over typical to how injuries worked, just a moment of weird pressure against his palm (just like the button), that soon stopped too.

He was in his human form, but in the hazmat he wore just before the accident. Something was wrong about it all. Something in his body made it feel like not his. Something in his chest was too light and too quiet and some intrusive thought made him want to claw on his rib cage until he ripped it open and realized what was missing.

Breathing seemed to easy, enough that he got lightheaded. It got a lot harder when he realized.

He couldn’t feel his core.

Before he managed to come to terms with that, there was a gentle pressure on his hand again.

And the pain returned.

*-*-*

Danny didn't wake up abruptly, with a choked scream and phantom burns. He also didn't wake up slowly, not in the nice, relaxed way at least, when the line between dream and reality is blurred beyond recognition. He woke up in pain, feeling like he wasn't even sleeping before, just… somewhere else while his body was destroying itself again for what felt like decades.

It took some effort to connect with his body after he woke up. To be able to move even a finger. Even longer, to open his eyes. Actual ages to sit up without urge to scream.

After seeing the absolute wreckage of the room, he kinda wished it took him longer. It looked like a warzone. Electrical burns on the walls and ceiling, random puddles of bubbling ectoplasm eating away anything they touched like an acid, and what little stuff there was before, was almost all broken beyond recognition, either by whatever force was doing its thing during his death day show or ecto. When he looked at it a bit more, it seemed to go in spiral around him.

It was kinda sad that the cookies went to waste like that. He was curious who brought them in though.

Thank fucking Ancients that Team listened to him and nobody was there when the whole mess was going down. They would probably join him on the other side of the veil otherwise.

He saw it all only because of his ghost enhanced in dark vision (thank Ancients he stayed in the ghost form) because apparently his Death Day shorted out both main electrical circuit and the emergency one. Thankfully, according to his ears, it only reached this and rooms next to him, instead of the whole Mountain.

Fuck. He really hoped Robin gave him some sort of back-up back-up room because otherwise he was dead. Or well, dead-er.

He rolled out of the bed, barely catching himself from smacking on the floor like a sack of potatoes. Though some would argue he didn’t catch himself if only his face didn’t fall to the floor like the sack of potatoes.

Only then he caught sight of big, ecto-green circle that embed itself into the wall right over the bed. It had familiar vibes. Really familiar…

He had to tell the Team about it yesterday.

*-*-*

M'gann was sitting on the needles, just like everyone else. Sure, Phantom asked them to forget about him and essentially ignore whatever was happening to him, but there was no way they'd actually be able to do it. Case in point, first time alarms about shorting out of the electrical circuit in the room. They run there so fast that they had door open to see what was wrong before the absolute onslaught of electricity and ectoplasm and something else turned off the alarms thirty seconds later. Truth be told, they couldn’t do much, not without risking becoming second ghostly member of the Team, they’ve been there and ready. Conner tried to come in anyway, with his invulnerability and such, but they had to drag him out when despite extensive dodging he got hit five times by the time he got two steps into the room. Also, there wasn’t really anything he could do to help.

So they just spent last almost twenty hours alternating between different things to keep themselves occupied enough to not fall asleep and distract themselves from quilt but not enough to not be able to drop it at the moments notice if it was needed. First plan was to nap in shifts if it was necessary but it quickly became apparent that sleep was impossible with how worried everyone was and when M'gann proposed to just shut down their brains with her powers, everyone got really defensive. Well, no was no. So they just sat, at the moment in awkward silence because every topic that wasn't Phantom felt too inane and every topic that was Phantom felt too… just no. No name for why, just no.

M'gann was about to get up to make another batch of peanut butter and oatmeal snacks that took few minutes to make and could be dropped at any second, when Conner practically jumped in his seat, tilting his head to hear better. Robin perked up from whatever he was doing on his wrist computer at the same time.

"Phantom left the room!” they exclaimed at the same time, jumping out of their seats.

This head start didn’t matter by the time everyone ran or flew out to the corridor, racing against clock to the room where they left Phantom. It didn’t seems so before, but now M’gann just cursed their past selves for not waiting somewhere closer. There wasn’t really any place where they could stay instead, unless they set camp right outside his door, but it still. They should be there five minutes ago, like Wally, who obviously run off.

They heard Wally speaking before they’ve seen him.

“Hey, hey calm down. It’s fine, they’ll be there in a second, just chill. They’re right after me, whatever happened, we’ll help you in just a moment, you don’t have to run. You’re barely standing. Phantom, calm down”

M’gann barely made it around the corner and she thought she had seen Kaldur actually smacking into the wall. He brushed it off.

Phantom looked beyond rough. It seemed like Wally, who had ghost’s arm across his shoulders, was only thing holding him up. His feet were firmly on the ground, not in his usual way, when he looked just a breeze away from flying, but in this fully human way, which was unsettling. His face was gray instead of his usual almost tan, eyes wide and terrified.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered, not looking at anyone in particular “I’m sorry, I’m sorry”

“Phantom, it’s fine. It’s fine, we know about the room, it’s fine,” Robin said, trying to placate him. It didn’t quite work. Ghost was on the verge of hyperventilating, which was a bit weird to see on someone for who breathing was voluntary.

“It’s not about room”

“I’m sure it’s fine anyway”

“It’s anything but. I’m sorry-”

“Shut up and tell us what happened if you’re so sure we will be pissed”

“Artemis!”

“Portal”

“What about it?”

“Portal is what killed me.”

M’gann didn’t like how the whole situation looked before, but it suddenly became much worse.

“My Death Day made another one”

[chidoroki]

"Unstoppable" by Donna Ashworth

[nonsensenook]

Chapter 3.5 | Moment of Respite

Synopsis: In which Bajie kindly gives you some time alone with the Destined One. An optional and indulgent chapter in this unapologetic take on you, the reader, accompanying the Destined One on his journey. 

Word Count: 3,129

Warnings: 18+/Explicit Content/Smut/N.S.F.W, Female Reader

Author’s Note: Though I say unapologetic, I am very much nervously sweating. I will soon find a nice rock to hide under. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3: Link

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The snow covered landscape turned to dense forest once again. With Bajie now completing the trio of a group, any sort of affection you showed came sparingly. Whatever you could show comfortably in Bajie’s presence was quick and subtle. It didn’t take long for you to begin struggling with the confines of this restriction. As time went on you would do what you could to distract yourself, but more than once Bajie had caught you staring at the Young Sage. This made the Pig Guai pelt you with seeds while counting how many it took until you were broken from the spell. He had also begun to stack things on you, laughing when his pile would tumble once you were out of your daze. On his less patient days he’d purposely scare you back to reality by shouting loudly near your ear. Even while you were standing he’d find something to hop onto to do this. 

The Destined One wasn’t doing any better. He didn’t seem to fully understand why you were quicker to separate from him in the mornings before Bajie woke up. Sometimes he’d pull you close or try resting his head in your lap, however these moments were quick to end when you moved away after seeing Bajie approach. You saw how this annoyed the Destined One by the way his tail lashed back and forth behind him. Your little explanations didn’t stop that tail of his either. He had recently started to walk away from Bajie mid-conversation to see whatever unimportant task you were up to. This earned him plenty of choice words from Bajie. More often now you would see Bajie knock the Destined One on the head with the back of his rake when he caught his gaze wandering off. Needless to say, Bajie’s temper seemed to be getting shorter these days. 

Tonight, the Destined One had found a suitable cave to set up camp. The half-moon in the sky shined brightly as your group settled down for the night. It was an evening full of unfinished chores. You were doing what you could, having picked up sewing to mend various articles of clothing while the Destined One worked on crafting a new staff. You sat near the fire and worked by its light. Across from you, Bajie stood up and dusted himself off.

“A lovely night like this is meant to be enjoyed with alcohol,” he announced, brushing past you to pick up the spare bottles of brew. “I’m going to finish these off by the waterfall we passed earlier. Do not expect me until morning and do not expect I’ll be sober,” he said with a chuckle. You weren’t really paying attention. The thread wasn’t going through the needle and the dancing firelight wasn’t helping. 

“I said,” Bajie emphasized loudly right next to your ear, making you jump and drop the needle, “I am going and to not expect me till morning.” 

You moved garments aside trying to find the needle with eyes squinting in the firelight. “Yes, yes, we heard you the first time, Bajie. Did you want company?” 

“Not from either of you! I’ve had enough of the two of you to last me several lifetimes.” Bajie began walking down the path through the trees. “If a lovely lady passes by here, send her my way!” he called back. You heard him singing loudly as he walked away, his voice slowly receding until it disappeared in the regular hum of nature around you. 

Thankfully, you found your needle again and managed to successfully thread it. You worked quietly on patching up your clothes. The night was cool, the air was filled with the soft croaking of frogs and crickets in their tunes. The fire next to you crackled softly as you worked. A breeze rustled the trees surrounding your little camp. You paused for a moment to listen to the leaves flutter on their branches. Bajie was right, it was a lovely night. You glanced up and saw the Destined One taking apart an old staff to make anew. His gaze was concentrated, you watched for a moment as he extracted the needed materials. You returned to your own work feeling content. 

Being alone with the Destined One had you reminisce on the beginning of the journey. Unlike this comfortable silence, the silences then were awkward and prolonged. Small accidental touches had you apologizing or him stepping back. Though you pride yourself in reading what he means to convey at a glance now, you remembered those perplexing games of charades you used to play with him. Then there was the bathing spring incident. You inwardly cringed. Even with everything you’ve done with him till now, that moment still pulls you back to those same feelings of panic and embarrassment. You shook your head, forcing the memory back to the corners of your mind. Then you felt your body stiffen as you finally realized: You were alone with the Destined One.

You felt a sudden sharp pain on your finger making you inhale through your teeth. You had accidentally poked yourself with the needle. The air around you moved, a pair of strong hands gently held yours open. The Destined One examined your finger closely. It was only a small dot on your index where the skin was barely broken. You looked at his face, his expression was full of focused concern. 

“I’m okay,” you said quietly, not even looking at your hands. He brushed his finger onto yours. Satisfied that you weren’t bleeding, he made to move away. You held onto his sleeve. 

“I-” You began to speak, then felt your mouth dry up. Embarrassment shot through you, quickening your heart and tying your tongue. How depraved were you that you’d jump at this opportunity the moment Bajie stepped away? Pretty depraved, you thought. 

“Could-” you stuttered, trying and failing once again to fully transfer incomplete thoughts from your mind to your mouth. You couldn’t find a way to say you wanted to touch him without sounding perverse. The Destined One looked closely at you. He reached his hand up to brush strands of your hair aside, fishing out a stray leaf. His hand traced along your face, lingering on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, placing your hand over his. You then turned your face to brush your lips against his palm. Usually, this action alone was enough to have him lead the rest of the way, but he made no motion. He simply looked at you with a shadow of amusement on his features. He slowly moved his hand to your chin where he tilted your head upwards to look him in the eyes. This damn monkey. 

As if reading your thoughts, you saw the corner of his lips twitch. You glared at him. He gave an innocent tilt of his head. You could so easily read what he was saying as if he’d whispered it into your ear. All you needed to do was ask.

“Could you please-” you started again, your breath hitching as he brushed his knuckles against the heat of your cheeks. You stared into his eyes. That same look of kindness, that same boundless patience, and something else. Something ravenous, waiting just beneath the surface. You just barely managed to whisper out the next words, “Touch me…” 

The Destined One looked more than pleased as he leaned forward. His lips touched yours in a gentle kiss. His warmth always seemed to envelope you. How long has it been since he’d touched you like this? How long have you wanted this? How long have you needed this? Long enough to know that this wasn’t even nearly enough. Your hands came up to his robe, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. You sealed your fate in this one bold move. This you knew: The Destined One wasn’t one to abandon something once started. Soon enough, he showed you just how famished he’d been. 

You felt his tongue greedily taste you as his hands traced your frame. You welcomed him to consume you, wrapping your arms around his neck as he sucked on your tongue. You moaned against his mouth as his hands trailed down to grope you in all the right places. He proceeded to lift you up as he trailed kisses and bites from your neck to your chest. He carried you easily into the cave where he held you against its walls. You stood there, your head thrown slightly back as he slowly descended down. His sharp nails snagged and tore at your clothes, still being careful not to push too hard into your soft flesh. 

You felt his hot breath on your chest. His tongue traced the area around your nipples, tasting you. You heard your cries echo in the cave when he began sucking on one while groping and flicking the other. The hand you held against your mouth did little to mask the sounds he pulled from you. He played with you until you were quivering in his hands. Satisfied, he continued trailing his tongue downward. He continued tearing at your clothes to make way for himself. By the time he was kneeling, your clothes were but scraps barely hanging onto your body. 

He slowed down, listening to your small whimpers as he slowly moved his hands up your legs. His nails softly scraped at your skin sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, painfully slowly, he made his way up to your thighs. He stopped just before he reached your entrance. Closing his eyes, he began planting slow, gentle kisses on your inner thighs. Then he opened his mouth and took a bite, making you cry out in surprise. You saw his tail flick behind him. He loved that sound you just made. He cruelly continued to do this, getting so close but never touching you where you wanted most. He took another bite which he licked once he let go. While holding your legs apart, he looked up at you. This Gods damn monkey. Mischievous doesn’t even begin to describe him anymore. 

This was his revenge for all the times you’d pulled away from him before. Knowing he was depriving you on purpose made you stubbornly bite your lip. Yet simply seeing him stare up at you while he traced your inner thigh with his teeth already cracked something in you. Just as you knew what he was doing, he knew what you were thinking. Frustration coursed through your veins as the Destined One watched you in playful amusement. It was unfortunate, you were up against someone who’d never lost a battle. You saw him use his knuckles to hover ever so close to your folds. You watched as he pulled away, then spread out his fingers to show your fluids sticking and dripping down them. You outwardly cursed at him this time. The Destined One wasn't listening, he’d started licking his fingers. You felt your pride and shame crumbling down as you watched him. The last embers of your stubbornness were snuffed out by his tongue.

Your lips quivered as you breathed out your next words. “Please,” you begged, “Please…” Again, you saw that same pleased look on his face. He'd gotten just what he wanted. You threw your head back as his tongue tasted your entrance. You felt his breath pant against you as his hot tongue slid into your pussy. From everything he’d done, there was so much of you for him to hungrily lap up. Your hands went to the fur on his head, gripping them to steady and ground yourself from the stimulation. He pushed his tongue in further, making your grip tighten on him. You felt him slowly traced back to your clit, flicking his tongue against it. You flinched and buckled each time he did this. His tight grip on your thighs held you still as he greedily devoured you. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, your shaking legs began to give out from under you. In response, the Destined One placed one leg over his shoulder. 

“Wait-” you cried out more in shock than command. He placed the other leg over too until your whole weight was fully supported by him. This new angle had him reaching deeper into you. With his hands on your waist and forearms resting on your thighs, he began sucking on your clit. You gasped then moaned uncontrollably loudly, pulling hard at his fur. Your twitching legs tried to come together but were held firmly in place by his immeasurable strength as he thoroughly ate you out. Your cries echoed back at you in the cave. You felt something build up, tightening inside of you. You cried out a string of curses as you came hard, your body twitching and convulsing against the cave wall. 

The Destined One slid his tongue against your pussy, lapping you up slowly as he helped you ride out your orgasm. When you settled down, he gently moved your legs from his shoulders. You leaned against the cave wall for support. Out of breath, you watched him wipe his mouth as he took off his robe to lay on the ground. In the dim light of the cave, you drank in the sight of his body. Your eyes stared at his muscles, his lean figure covered in fur, and the veins trailing from his arms to his hands. The Destined One helped you over to his robe where you laid down on your back. 

He hovered over you, admiring the absolute mess he’d made of you. He then went to your neck and started sucking on your skin, one hand reaching to pull down his pants. He tossed them aside. As you twitched below him you felt the tip of his cock brush against your folds, spreading your wetness all over himself. You felt yourself pulsing in anticipation. Your hands went to his chest. You felt hard muscle beneath soft fur as you slid your hands down. You hear his breath catch when you brush along his lower abdomen. Your hands then went to his back where you slowly scraped and pulled at him. He shivered at your touch. As he continued to mark your skin, you felt him start to enter you slowly. You felt his tail wrap around your leg. One of his hands held yours, pinning you down to the ground. His other hand shot up to grip the cave wall. As eased into your soaked pussy, you heard the sound of something cracking above you. 

You let out a low moan as he went deeper, stretching you out, until you had taken him fully. You felt yourself tighten around him as he let out a sigh. Again, you heard that same cracking noise above you, like stones scraping together. He began moving slowly, cautious of you adapting to his size. Your breath was coming up short again. When he quickened his pace, you could not stop the sounds that erupted from you. The Destined One’s breathing was heavy and labored in your ear. You heard more cracking from above as he let out a low, husky moan. You clawed at his back, making him snarl. He let go of the cave wall, scraping his nails down your back as he gripped your hips, digging deeply into your skin. You cried out, arching into him, your chest meeting his as his thrusts came harder. You could only whimper and moan as he pulled you in by your hips to meet each of his thrusts. Growling in your ear, he pulled back, then slammed into you hard. You choked out another cry which became mewling whimpers as he fucked you harder. You were begging for him, but the sounds were indiscernible to your ears. The cave walls had you deafened by your own voice drenched in ecstasy and the sounds of his body slamming into yours. 

You felt yourself tighten up, that same peaking feeling getting closer. Moaning fully into his ear you came again, twitching hard as your pussy tightened around his cock. His thrusts quickened, becoming frantic, desperate. You felt him bite down hard into your shoulder as he came in you. Both his teeth and nails dug deep enough to draw blood, but the pain felt delicious as he twitched and filled you. 

For a moment he stayed still, breathing heavily, then he let go of your shoulder and pulled out of you. His hand unlatched itself from your hip, he moved his arm up to support his weight. The other hand was still firmly holding your own. Both of you were still out of breath as he closed his eyes to rest his head against yours. You reached up to hold his face, giving him a tender kiss. He returned the kiss as you wrapped your arm around his neck. He pulled you up slowly, delicately. You closed your eyes as he carried you out of the cave.

~

In the morning, Bajie returned the way he’d left: singing. True to his word he held many empty jars of drink and walked like a sailor towards where you and the Destined One were having breakfast. Before he’d made it to you two, however, Bajie face-planted into the ground. You heard the distinct sound of him snoring as a jar rolled towards you. The Destined One stood up to carry Bajie over to the light bedding you’d prepared for him. 

The Young Sage then returned to you and pulled you into his lap. The Destined One wrapped his arms around you, tail pleasantly thumping the ground. You leaned into him, feeling your sore body ache. Your clothes just barely hid the bruises and bites he’d left all over your neck and chest. The bite on your shoulder along with the scratches down your back and hips still stung. He’d done well to help tend and clean you up last night. He was initially a bit worried at the wounds you sustained, but you reassured him that he hadn’t hurt you in any way you didn’t want him to. He seemed quite happy to trace over the various marks he’d left on your body afterwards. 

You were glad to take a day off from traveling today. The Destined One still had a staff to remake and you had more clothing to repair. Yes, both were quite reasonable explanations to validate this moment of respite. That and how your legs were fully out of commission. You kept your eyes away from the mound of rock and stone behind the two of you. You hoped that by the time you were on the road again Bajie would be too hungover to ask what happened to the cave. 

[skitskatdacat63]

2009 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix - Sebastian Vettel(ft. Mark Webber & Jenson Button)

[spotsupstuff]

day 22 and 25 -looks at date- or at least inspired by them

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

A fierce duel commences!