#tori writes fic

[emloafs]

Idk to me this looks like a promo photo or a poster for a sitcom about a group of friends in their 20s

[geekgirl750-writes]

The Quinton Reviews iCarly/ Victorious/ Sam & Cat series has awoken something inside of me that I feel like I will die if I don't write a fic about

Here me out:

Victorious College!AU where the reader is a student at Hollywood Arts but it's a college and you're roommates with all of the Victorious characters.

And I kinda want to add either a Friends to Lovers! arc with Robbie x Reader or an Enemies to Lovers! Jade x Reader for a little spice

Basically I want to heal my inner child by living precariously through Tori Vega

[max--phillips]

Hey. Can we all agree. Here. Right now. To not write female reader insert fic abt Pedro’s character in strange way of life?? Obviously we haven’t seen the thing but I’m going to go out on a limb and say that his character is Actually Gay and changing that for horny fic screams homophobia

[blainesebastian]

you and me

word count: 4,297 pairing: robby keene x tory nichols rating: R (for triggers such as death of a parent) summary: 6x05 fix it fic. i'm sorry but i find it so hard to believe that robby does not go after tory to check on her when everyone learns about her mother. writers please, what are we doing??? notes: spoilers, obviously, for season 6. some dialogue taken directly from the show *u*

At this point in his life, Robby has gotten a pretty good sense of feeling when the other shoe is gonna drop. He’s used to disappointment, defeat, wears it like a second skin, so familiar to the sensations that he molds it to his skin, wields it like a mask so that when those feelings hit, he can convince everyone that he knows how to deal with it. He’s had plenty of practice.

His mom, his dad, Mr. LaRusso, Sam, Kenny.

While learning and mastering karate has been all about balance for him, about not feeding kindling to emotions like anger, it’s also been about acceptance. About factors, emotions and people he can’t control. Acceptance for himself, so that things in his life don’t live in those eras of disappointment and defeat.

He tries his best not to allow old patterns to drown him.

The other shoe might drop, but that doesn’t mean he has to be defined by it.

--

Robby knows better than anyone that just because you leave Cobra Kai doesn’t always mean it leaves you. There’s this wild look in the depths of his eyes sometimes that he recognizes when he looks in the mirror. Sometimes he convinces himself it’s a trick of the light, gone before he even pins it down.

There’s only a handful of people he thinks will understand that, just the nature of the beast. When you become a monster, it stays with you, lives inside of you, sometimes not as dormant as you want it to be. Just because he’s back at Miyagi-do doesn’t mean that he still doesn’t hear a snake hissing in his ear, a death rattle under his skin.

Sometimes he itches to strike first.

Nowhere does he see that same instinct like he does in Tory’s eyes.

He recognizes it like the back of his hand, it bubbles to the surface sometimes right before she throws a punch, right before she starts an argument (or finishes one).

It’s dangerous and vicious and above all, Robby knows, seductive.

There is nothing quite like the power that slithers through your veins when you embrace Cobra Kai’s model. When you live and breathe the motto. They may have taken the head off the snake, but if he’s learned anything? Cobra Kai is a living and breathing entity—through him. Tory. His dad. Hawk. Kenny. The people’s lives its touched and ruined. No matter how hard it’s buried, sometimes it comes back.

He can feel it grip the bottom of his ribcage when he thinks about second place. When he thinks about losing to Miguel to be team captain.

It’s why he’s working so hard on that acceptance part. That if he does lose, no matter how badly he wants it, he’ll swallow down the urge to do something reckless.

Which is part of the reason he almost amends to Tory what he said earlier—that even though it would be nice to be on that podium together? In front of everyone in the world to see? It doesn’t really matter to him…as long as they’re together.

Let's make a deal, no matter what, we stick together—just you and me.

Robby may not know how to wade through much as he figures out where he fits all over again, but he knows something inside of him recognizes something inside Tory. They see one another, have always seen one another, and he sometimes wonders if that’s the only thing in his life that’s real.

--

He hasn’t been able to get ahold of Tory for almost a full day and it’s at the end of school, while waiting in a park to train with her, that he really starts to worry. Calls, texts, doesn’t matter—they all go unanswered. He knows sometimes that she has her own way of doing things, of preparing, of getting in her head in order to get shit done…but with what she told him about Kreese showing up out of nowhere?

He's worried something has happened to her. He really wouldn’t put it past their old sensei to play dirty, to do something drastic. Has she been taken? Is she hurt? His blood starts to boil under his skin and echo in heartbeats in his ears as he thinks about that night they took Cobra Kai down, at seeing her hand all mangled from an ‘accident while training’.

And while he knows Kreese wasn’t directly involved with that, it’s all the same bullshit. No mercy.

He lets out a breath as her phone goes to voicemail, again.

“Hey, it’s me,” He lets out a long breath through his nose, “I dunno what’s goin’ on, but you’re worrying me.” Robby runs a hand through his hair, “I dunno whether it’s Kreese or something else but…you’re not alone. You and me, remember? Just let me know you’re okay.”

He waits like she might actually answer him before he hangs up, squeezing the phone a bit too tonight.

Robby tells himself that it’s fine, that he doesn’t have to wind himself up for no reason. She’s probably just doing her own thing, training, that she’ll call later with an apology and a request to meet up for midnight milkshakes—something that’s become quite a thing for them.

That he’ll see her tomorrow for the captain competition with a smirk on her full lips and a kiss good luck.

--

Except she doesn’t show up.

And he’s currently getting his ass handed to him because he’s distracted, glancing at the crowd like he might see her.

Robby never knew how much strength he drew from her, how much he depended on seeing her on his side, how much he ached for her nods of encouragement and cheers of excitement. He knows that the four of them are all on the same page again, all working towards the same goal, that there’s no bad blood or ill wishing.

But he’s also not blind to the fact that Sam is very much in Miguel’s corner, just as much as Robby is in Tory’s and vice versa.

He wants to be angry at her for not being here, for ignoring him, and the black shadow of a snake inside of him wants to use that anger behind his punches and barrel into Miguel with brute force and wild, wide strokes.

But deep down, he knows how much of that will be a mistake. Regardless that he’s fucking losing.

The other shoe drops that…it’s not actually anger anyways, but deep-seeded concern—that there’s a reason she’s not here. That something happened. That something is very, very wrong. And that entire emotion wells up inside his chest like the crashing wave of an ocean. It’s all he can think about, his body shaking as he pulls himself up from the mat.

Diaz, 2 points.

Robby drags his hands through his hair and glances towards the crowd, his gaze drawn to movement in the back of the dojo. Tory’s here. He draws in a sharp breath, lungs expanding, probably foolish to admit that it feels like he can actually breathe now. She’s here, she’s okay—and the thoughts of second place are brushed away with a breeze through the backyard and replaced with a singular phrase—

You and me.

The calm he feels is so stark to the panic before that he nearly smiles when Miguel throws his next kick and he blocks it effortlessly. The dance of their fighting moves is like liquid heat, something that kisses his bones and sings in his blood. The score is evened up, it’s anyone’s win.

And by anyone, he means it’s his.

Robby knows almost instantly, before he even squares off with Miguel, that he’s going to win. One look at Tory, one nod from her, and his heart slams into his ribcage.

He’s going to win, there’s no other option.

And he does.

Point. Winner.

He’s almost in a daze for a moment afterwards, he fucking won—the smile pulling his lips almost cracking his face in two.

When Robby makes it down to Tory, he can’t stop himself from reaching for her hand, their fingers interlacing as if it’s always been that way.

“Sorry I was late.” She says and Robby takes one look at her face, her eyes, before it stops him dead in his tracks.

“You came just in time,” He replies but the words aren’t registering, because he was right. Something is wrong.

It’s in the way she’s holding herself, her shoulders slipping forward, it’s in the wildness of her hair and the trembling of her fingers, it’s in the gaze that won’t look at him, eyes wide and glassy.

He knows what he’d see if her eyes met his. It’s the same look he’s seen in his own eyes in the mirror.

“Hey,” Robby says gently, moving to clasp her chin between his fingers, to force her to look at him, “What’s wrong?”

But Tory jerks back from his touch as if she’s been burned, as if she’s finally registered what he’s said. His hand drops but it doesn’t stop him from reaching for her, that same gnawing pit in his stomach beginning all over again at that look in her eyes.

“Tory,” Robby tries but she’s pulling away from him the moment his dad says LaRusso, Nichols to get up on the mat.

His mouth hangs open with unsaid words, his fingers itching to pull her down, away, to talk to him even though she’d throw fists at him the entire way.

Something catches in his chest as the fight begins and it only adds to the aching pit in his stomach that something is very wrong. Robby has watched Tory fight and train countless times, she keeps her body tight and her movements fluid, powerful punches and debilitating kicks.

But there’s too much emotion behind her draws, her footwork is messy, her arms are too wide and wild.

Her eyes are completely feral.

“Dad,” He calls out, tries to get his attention, to get them to stop, but it’s spiraling too fast, Tory advancing on Sam with her fist raised—

Until Mr. LaRusso catches her hand.

Robby lets out a haggard breath, his eyes fluttering to his sensei that he didn’t even see move up onto the mat because he couldn’t take his gaze off his girlfriend.

“The fight’s over.” He says, dropping Tory’s hand and Robby feels himself take an instinctive step towards the mat, the reckless look in her eyes nearly taking over her entire body.

“That’s not fair! That could have been a point.”

He’s not sure whether Mr. LaRusso heard him trying to call out to his dad to intervene or whether something is actually going on—there’s this expression on his sensei’s face, the same one mirrored on his wife, who’s gripping her phone so tight that her knuckles are turning white.

Robby opens his mouth to say something, to ask questions, to try and get Tory’s attention—when his girlfriend suddenly explodes when the arguing continues about her getting a fair fight.

“Because my mother died!”

He stares at her, the dojo slipping into an eerie silence, and he can feel the color draining from his face as all the pieces he was sifting through slip into place.

Holy fuck. Has she been dealing with this this entire time? Why didn’t she call him? Why didn’t she pick up his calls? Robby’s heart clenches in his chest as Tory tries to argue for her chance at this fight, the one she wants to have right the hell now, that she’s not backing down from.

The anguish is so potent he nearly chokes on it, taking a step towards her as she begins to spiral, as she realizes that she will not get what she wants here. He pushes himself up onto the mat, his hands up and in front of him, wanting to touch her but not wanting to spook her any further.

He realizes now how much she feels like a wounded animal, capable of striking out, striking first, baring her teeth. “My mom, she would have wanted this. If I don’t fight—I have to do this, I have to do this for her.”

“Tory, let’s just take a second and breathe—”

“No, Robby, no.” She chokes out.

Tory pushes everyone away, pushes him away and he can see the moment Kreese’s ugly words rear their head, spilling out of her mouth, tossing them into Mrs. LaRusso’s face about her beating her daughter, about how she’d never be first choice when it really mattered.

Second place, second place, second, second—

Robby swallows over a lump in his throat, his hands reaching for her even though she pulls away from his grasp, “Don’t touch me,” She snaps, “You want this fight to be over? Fine! It’s over.” She jumps off the mat, making a b-line for the parking lot.

“Tory, where are you going—” He calls out, her voice edging on the end of his sentence, screaming finality—I’m done.

Robby tails after her so fast that he nearly knocks Hawk over as he spills through the other members of Miyagi-do, not caring about who gets stuck in the crossfire.

“Tory!” He yells, hoping to catch up with her, praying she didn’t manage to somehow leave within those milliseconds she got away from him. He’s also praying that no one is following him, he needs to talk with her alone.

“Tory—” Robby just gets her name out of his mouth as he turns the corner before her fist is flying at his head. He ducks, barely, shifting to the right to avoid another toss of her wrist that he knows is coming.

“Leave me alone,” She spits at him, eyes like liquid fire, tears brimming the edges of her long lashes. “Go back in there, Robby.”

“No,” He says automatically, his voice calm despite the hammering in his chest. He takes a fighting stance, bringing his arms up. “Not without you.”

Robby doesn’t want to fight her but he has a feeling she’s not going to talk to him either. The last thing he’s about to let her do is leave, not how she is right now, not like this. He knows she’s not the first person to open up to someone else, no matter how close they are, but he’s not going to let her go through this alone. He doesn’t care if he has to force his way into her space, to somehow convince her that he’s not going anywhere.

She snaps another punch but it’s sloppy, he gently deflects by pushing her arm in the other direction. “You think I need you?” Tory bites, angry, so angry he feels like he can see steam coming from her ears.

But he takes none of it personally, he knows he’s not the one she’s really mad at. She can throw whatever she wants at him, he can take it.

“You want to fight someone? Fine—fight me. I know you pretend you don’t need anyone,” He tells her, blocking another hit. He’s not going to throw his own punches, just deflect hers. He dances with her in this circle, keeping his body loose, his hands low so he doesn’t do something reactive.

That seems to piss her right off, she throws a kick this time and it lands to his chest. He loses his balance for a moment, backing up into one of the old-fashioned cars Mr. LaRusso keeps outside the dojo, nearly stumbling to avoid another hit that she goes for. He ducks, reflexes fast, and her fist connects with the car window. It doesn’t break, but he hears a crack in the glass, the blood coming away on her knuckles.

She doesn’t even register the pain.

“I know because I’ve been there. I used to do the same thing. But it’s okay to need someone Tory. I’m not going anywhere.” Robby backs up, trying to give her space to move, but she’s coming at him quick—too quick, too feral, looking to hurt as she’s hurting.

He’s distracted for one moment, someone else coming out from the dojo—maybe Sam? Saying his name. Tory cracks her fist along the bottom half of his face, snapping his head to the side. He can feel the moment his teeth split open his lower lip.

And then something happens.

Robby isn’t sure what it is—whether it’s the step he stumbled back from her or the blood he wipes from his lip, but something breaks the spell holding onto Tory. She stares at him, at the cut on his lower lip, with wide, wet eyes, her fingers uncoiling from fists and dropping to her sides.

“I’m sorry,” She says in a whoosh of air, her breathing too fast.

Robby stands up straight, his arms falling as he shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

He barely gets the words out because Tory is also shaking her head, tears spilling down her cheeks, a ghostly look on her face as if she’s realized what she’s done, who she’s hurt. “I’m sorry,” She repeats, over and over, her words beginning to hiccup as she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to turn away from him.

“Hey, hey,” Robby’s voice is calm as he reaches for her, not accepting the space she’s trying to put between them. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his chest until she relents. He feels the moment she does, a sob slipping from her lips and practically vibrating his entire body.

He closes his eyes, burying his face in her hair, drawing one hand up to rest on the back of her head as the other smooths wide circles along her spine. When her knees give out, he gently brings them to the ground, keeping her close, pressing a long kiss to her temple as she cries.

She’s been holding this in for a while and he doesn’t try to talk, there’s nothing he can say—he just wants her to feel whatever she needs to. Tory keeps her face hidden in his shoulder, her hands gathering up the fabric of his Gi between her fingers, anchoring herself to him.

Robby glances over his shoulder, glad that the voice of the person that called out to him from the dojo is no longer there. The last thing he wants is for there to be an audience.

He draws in a short breath, threading his fingers through her hair until she pulls back to look up at him. Robby gives her the faintest smile, cupping her cheek, thumbing away a tear track.

“I’m gonna take you home.” He says softly, relieved when she doesn’t put up a fight.

Tory sniffles and nods, seeming utterly exhausted now that the adrenaline has disappeared. Her forehead droops to his shoulder and he squeezes his arms a bit tighter around her.

He meant what he said—he’s not going anywhere.

--

The apartment is unnervingly quiet when they get there. Robby’s changed out of his Gi back at the dojo and he tries to convince Tory to take a shower to soothe her muscles, to unknot some of the tension in her spine, but she outright ignores him. Instead, she makes a b-line for her bedroom to change her clothes and Robby sighs, running a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He's already decided that he’s spending the night here (whether she likes it or not). While he does not understand the pain of losing a parent (even though he can empathize with loss where parents are concerned in a small way), he knows that Tory is walking a very narrow emotional tightrope. He’s not going to leave her side until she’s…functioning better than he saw her today.

Until that look disappears from her eyes.

Robby opens up a few cabinets in the kitchen and checks the fridge for food, texting his dad and Mr. LaRusso so that they know he’s here, that as of right now Tory is okay, or at the very least as okay as she can be. He slips his phone into his back pocket, turning as he hears her come down the hall.

She’s changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt he is ninety-five percent is his and that almost draws a small smile to tug onto his lips. She’s run a brush through her hair, washed her face, color kissing her cheeks pink. He’s never seen her look so small in all the time he’s known her and his fingers itch to gather her in his arms once again.

Tory looks up at him, swallows, “You don’t have to stay.”

Well that’s not going to happen. “You have a first-aid kit?”

She stares at him for a long moment, seeming to understand that he will fight her on this if he has to, even though he doesn’t want to. Her gaze flickers to his mouth before she pulls out the first-aid kit from under the kitchen sink and then reaches into her freezer for a frozen bag of peas.

Wrapping the bag in a washcloth, she turns to look at him, her hand tentatively reaching out to touch his cheek. He can see the remorse all over her face but Robby gently catches her wrist, squeezing the fingers of her uninjured hand,

“Don’t worry about it,” He tells her, “I’m okay. You’ve hit me harder than this before.”

That earns him a ghost of a smile and Robby smiles back, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “Go sit on the couch, I’m gonna check out your hand.”

Tory turns and does as he asks and it’s like the fight has melted right out of her, pressing her into the corner of the couch. He knows that it won’t always be like this, that the rough emotions will come and go like waves. But it’s important that she feels every single one of them and then lets them go.

Whether she knows it or not, Tory has a support system that can help her do that.

Robby opens a drawer for another washcloth, wetting it with warm water and brings the first-aid kit with him to the coffee table in front of the couch. He sits down on the edge of it, his knees bumping into hers as he reaches for her injured hand.

There’s so much he wants to say to her, words hiding underneath his tongue, and yet he doesn’t know how to say any of it. He wants to ask her why she didn’t call him, why she thought she had to go through this alone, but it doesn’t feel right for him to say it. At least not right now. The last thing he wants is for her to feel like he’s attacking her.

Robby just…he cares about her so much and it kills him to think about her in pain, shouldering all of this.

He brushes his thumbs over her knuckles, wincing just a little at the angry redness of them. Only a few cuts that aren’t even bleeding now, no glass anywhere in sight. He figured it wouldn’t be too bad but…

He gently begins cleaning her hand with the wet washcloth, ridding her skin of the dried blood. Robby knows that this is the last thing they should talk about but he also knows how Tory’s mind works, what’s plaguing her thoughts since they left Miyagi-do.

“We can talk to our senseis, reschedule that fight with Sam when you’re ready.”

Tory swallows, shaking her head, her voice is a bit hoarse, “They’ll never let me do that, not after what happened.”

Robby’s eyebrows draw together in slight concentration, “They’ll give you another shot, Tor, you deserve another shot.” He sets the washcloth down and opens up the first-aid box, resting their hands on his leg as he digs through for antiseptic. He tears open the small wipe with his teeth, a soft apology leaving his lips because he knows this will sting.

She winces when he begins cleaning her cuts, padding them dry with a cotton swab. Nothing is split open, so she doesn’t need band-aids but…he does gently wrap her hand with a thin layer of gauze.

“It’s too late for me.” She says and he hates the way her voice shakes, hates that it reaches inside his chest and squeezes.

Robby shakes his head, finishing with her hand. He lifts her knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss as he wraps his fingers around hers. “It’s not too late,” He replies, “Hey,” He whispers, drawing her eyes to his, “It’s not.”

Tory bites down on her lower lip to stop it from wobbling, but he can see her eyes fill with tears again as they draw back and forth over his face, occasionally snagging on his split lip, “What am I going to do, Robby?” She chokes out and he knows they’re not talking about the Sekai Tekai anymore.

Robby cups her cheek, brushing his thumb across the bone as he holds her gaze, “Whatever it is?” He says after a moment, “We’ll figure it out together, okay? You and me.” He repeats the same phrase he told her before.

Tory sniffles, leaning back when Robby stands so he can sit next to her. He tugs her into his arms again, holding her against his body, her face tucking into the crook of his neck. He pulls a blanket down from the back of the couch to wrap around her body, his hand smoothing up and down her arm.

“Deal,” She whispers and for the first time in a long time, Robby feels himself relax.

[talk-danmei-to-me]

Continuing on with tonight's theme of theorising terrible shit Misumi has done, and trying to find hints in earlier chapters, it occurs to me that he visits soaplands. And you know a character who probably has ties to and knowledge of such establishments - Izumi.

Izumi and Doumeki clearly have some sort of scheme going on that Kamiya misinterprets as romantic. Now I'm very much team Doumeki is only in the Yakuza to a) prove to Yashiro he can handle it and b) remain present in the world he inhibits for the sole reason of meeting him again. But its implied that whatever he's got going on with Izumi puts her at risk. Spying on Misumi would certainly be risky business.

Doumeki can't control what Yashiro does, but he can control external forces that surround him. Now I'm not saying that Doumeki is observant enough to know all there is to know about Yashiro, since a major communication flaw they seem to have is Doumeki's willingness to take everything Yashiro says literally. However, I think after what happened with Aoi, he does have an innate need to save the people he cares about and maybe his relationship with Izumi is a part of that.

Also, the way things are going, we're gearing up for a death soon. Izumi strikes me as a character who would make excellent collateral damage.

[sexynetra]

Ready to be back on my bullshit 👀

[lovergirllane]

Cowboy Lovin’ (J.M)

Warning(s); Smut!, Piv sex!, Daddy kink,age gap,Joel is in his 40’s reader’s in her early 20’s,make out session,mention of weed, use of drugs (weed),Oral (R Receiving), semi public sex,outdoor sex.

Pairing(s); Neighbor!Joel Miller x Afab!Fem!Reader.

Summary; you’re home for the summer.

A/n; this is the longest thing I’ve written in a hot minute, pls enjoy and if you like this pls check out some of my old works on @bellaramseysgf & @billyslittledolly <3

You had missed your smaller home town however you didn’t regret choosing a out of state college. The small town had no place for your career path,the small town had less than 1000 people inside its barrier.

Though you couldn’t truly admit it you missed your neighbor the most. He was everything a small town cowboy would be. Polite,kind, a honest sweetheart but stand off-ish at first. His daughter was friends with your younger sibling causing him to be there most days.

You smiled to yourself seeing his truck parked in your driveway as you pulled up to your house. You hadn’t brought much from school just the necessity’s.

You had walked inside and were bombarded by your younger sibling smiling as you hugged them tightly. “How you been looser?” You asked and they began rambling on about what they’d done while you were gone.

Your parents came to hug you next before you finally locked eyes with Joel. You felt your whole body heat up after catching his gaze.

You and Joel had a rather….complicated relationship. After his wife left when you were freshly 18 the man took over your life. You don’t even truly know what turned inside you but you jumped on him every chance you got. Joel was more than happy to oblige.

You hadn’t seen him since you left 5 months ago. He looked different but the same, he had scruff and part of a beard growing on his face. He looked to be stronger and more fit, he also had cut his hair.

You broke the stare before anyone could notice mumbling a quick hello to him and his daughter both.

It was later in the evening when you were finally getting a chance to unpack that there was a knock on your door. You turned to see Joel in your doorway leaning against the frame.

“Hey kiddo” he spoke and you sighed when his voice still made your hair stand up in the best possible way. “Your dad said you were looking for a job this summer” he added and you nodded as you sat your make up onto your vanity.

“I need some help around the Ranch if you’re interested”

He had another daughter now. Why did he need any help?

“Joel, Don’t you have Ellie now? Why do you need my help?” You asked as you continued to unpack your vanity. “It’s not a need…more of a want..” he said and you shrugged in response.

You tried to not let you excitement show as you turned to look at him “sure, easy money for me” you said like you didn’t have a care in the world. “Mmm, Perfect be there tomorrow at 9” he said and you nodded.

You already knew that you weren’t gonna be helping with anything around the ranch what so ever.

The next morning you were up,dressed, and out of the house before 8 knowing that if you got there early you’d get even more time with him and boy were you right.

“That’s it, good girl” he praised as you took his cock all the way into the back of your throat. You were on your knees in front of him his back pressed to his bedroom door. He had both hands settled on your head as he choked out moans.

“Fuck, yes- so good!” You knew by his constant babbling that he was close and sure enough with a couple more moves of your head he was releasing down your throat with a groan.

That’s how your days started, most days with you pleasuring him, he would always return the favor of course and fuck you brainless.

You and Ellie had unexpectedly become close mainly off the fact you both smoked, late at night when she thought her dad was asleep she’d come over and share a joint with you.

It was late one night and you and her were giggling about Joel falling off his horse earlier in the day. “I know! He just hit the ground like a sack of potatoes!” She laughed as she blew smoke out and handed you the smoking paper.

“Yes! That horse was like ‘that’s enough’” you replied urging another fit of laughter before you inhaled the smoke. The joint got passed a few more times before the pair of you heard your worst nightmare.

“Ellie Miller!” You both cringed when you heard Joel’s voice from behind the pair of you. “We’ve been caught! Run!” You exclaimed and the pair of you really had every intention to but neither of you did. Instead, you both just let out another round of giggling.

“Ellie! Home! Now!” He commanded and she let out a huff followed by “yeah yeah” as she walked past him and through your house. “Just what kind of influence are you having on my 17 year old daughter?” He asked and you shrugged snuffing the joint out in the tray.

“A fun one?” You offered but were met with a stern look and rolled your eyes “it’s just a little fun okay? She’s fine it’s not like it can hurt her” Joel let out a sigh “how can you be this reckless! This could ruin her life!” “Oh my god, grow up Joel. You’re fucking your neighbors daughter who’s half your age, that could ruin her life. Not some measly drug” you let out a huff once you were done and stood up.

“It’s a little weed, Chill” you shoved past him and he grabbed your arm before you were met with his lips on yours. It was quickly heated and turned into him slamming you against the side of your house as his tongue ran over yours.

His hands dropped to hike up the dress you were wearing,he spun you around with force making you use your hands to catch yourself. Your dress was pushed up feeling the soft material fall around your waist made you squeeze your thighs together.

It was even more exciting that your parents were right on the other side of this wall you heard the clanking of his belt and soon enough you were filled with his cock.

You let out a quiet gasp as he entered until he was settled at his base inside you, he let out a sigh in return before he began thrusting in and out at a steady pace.

The hot night air was soon filled with moans from the both of you as he worked you both closer to your release

Everything felt way more intense now that your high was finally in full blast your head felt floaty and you let out a sigh, leaning to set your head on his chest. “You feeling it?” He asked and you let out a weak moan in response.

“I know baby, I know.” He said as his hand stroked over your stomach “must feel so good” you let out a squeal when he thrusted harder and hit a sensitive spot you didn’t know you had. “Daddy!” You moaned. “Shh shhh, daddy’s here. Gotta stay quiet baby” he whispered.

He shifted and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist before he let out a few grunts and began to fuck into you faster. You let out as quite of moans as you could as he slammed into you each thrust knocking another “daddy!” From your throat.

You were nearing your end and he was too, a few more thrusts and you were both sent flying over the edge as he mumbled sweet praises into your ear over and over until you were both settled.

It took you awhile the waves still making your body tremble for a while as he gently rubbed your stomach mumbling about how good you were.

“Now, is that attitude of yours fixed?” He asked and you let out a sigh as you nodded sleepily. “Good girl, let’s get you cleaned up and tucked in bed.”

[mixelation]

Ficmas: Day 10

For the end of the year (and the beginning of the next), I'm doing a 12 Days of Ficmas event! I will be posting something everyday for twelve days. Most fics are Naruto, with a few other fandoms thrown in, covering a variety of ships.

Today's fic is also Plasticity! It's a prompt fill from earlier in 2023 that I'm finally moving to AO3. I didn't make a ton of changes to this one, but I think this version of Tori is when you first reeeeally get to see what I'm aiming for her in terms of development, skills-wise. (Also maybe the first taste of the maniac we get in Mutagenicity?)

the one where they're poisoned on a boat by Mixelation

For the anonymous tumblr prompt: "I’m rereading plasticity and now I really want to see tori freeing herself and maybe another Akatsuki member from some kind of prison using a seal made of food. Could she use blood? Yes, but yogurt would absolutely be funnier"

[happy-tori-friends]

mine creachures arrived (i underestimated how large they would be)

now they get to live on the dusty bedside shelf with some other friends :)

[scoupsahoy]

r/relationships

i think i might be falling for my straight friend?

notBanished • 9 hours ago • sex

I (22m) have been close my straight best friend (21m) for a few years now, especially after a near-death experience we had together (not important) and we've been hanging out more and more. He knows that I'm gay, and has never been weird about it. But the past few weeks it's almost like he's been coming onto me? I don't know how to tell him that I'm attracted to him, especially considering lately he's been very physically affectionate and even initiating (platonic) sexual situations? It's confusing and definitely not platonic for me anymore and I don't want to ruin the friendship. What should I do?

Edit: I've gotten a lot of comments insisting he's not straight, but I've known him for a while and I feel like he would have told me. I know straight guys do stuff together sometimes just because it's fun, but especially because he's constantly telling me how much he loves me and stuff, I think it's really getting to me.

comment from madmax: are you a fucking idiot

comment from l8rsinclair: are you a fucking idiot

comment from amERICA: are you a fucking idiot

comment from dustinthebanished: are you a fucking idiot

comment from wheelzer: i would tell him if you feel like he's leading you on bc this is pretty normal dude stuff

comment from willthewise: waiting for an update!

comment from thejournalist: talk to him

comment from robinhood: if this is who i think this is i'm coming to your house and burning it down. again. you are both idiots.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Uh hi! So I know you usually do ship stuff, but I am desperate for some Isaac Henderson angst content. I’ve found a few here and there but most of them aren’t actually super angsty and a lot somehow feel more about the other characters even if they’re meant to be about Isaac. They’re good but nothings really scratched that itch so far. Could you write something using #12 from the angsty dialogue prompts? Or honestly if you’d rather not do that one, any one of the prompts would be great. I’ll leave it up to you what exactly it’s about and who the line is directed at, I just wanna see my fave go through it.

hello!! i'm sorry this took so long! i would like to clarify that i started it ages ago, but it was at less than 1000 words yesterday evening, and then it was finished at 2am last night. (i got so into it i'm currently in the mindset of "that's it, i'm going to try and post at least a fic a week now 😤", but we will see if that actually happens.) so, i hope if nothing else it's sufficiently angsty and not too ooc. you did give me quite a bit of freedom, and it remains unclear if that was a good choice or not 😅 anyway, enjoy!!

12. "Help me."

Post-prom, Isaac felt out of sorts. 

His situation with James and his odd encounter at Elle’s exhibition had been eye-opening, to say the least. Angela Chen’s Ace still resided on his nightstand, though he’d finished reading it two days after lifting it from the library. He couldn’t bring himself to return it just yet; he found himself going back to it at night, rereading sections over again as if they would tell him something new, feeling he was still missing something. And anyway, they were still on summer holidays. The school wouldn’t miss it for now. 

No one seemed to be missing him much, either.

It was becoming more noticeable, this summer break, how he was the odd one out. He’d been aware his friends were essentially coupled off for months now, and Paris had cemented it, but Paris had also kept them stuck together as a group. 

(Plus, most of the Paris trip had been before things had become royally awkward with James, but he was mostly avoiding thinking about all that.)

The situation with Darcy had understandably taken a bit of a priority in the past couple of weeks, but it didn’t explain the shift that had seemed to happen within all his friends since prom. Isaac had figured for a while that Elle would be leaving, and he assumed it was why she and Tao had been attached at the hip. He didn’t begrudge them it, really. He had watched them pine over each other long enough that leaving them this time together felt warranted. Besides, it wasn’t like they were asking Charlie to movie nights recently, either. 

But it also wasn’t likely Charlie was waiting to be asked, these days. He and Nick had seemingly re-entered their honeymoon phase, which was fair given that they finally could be as coupley as they wanted wherever and whenever they wanted. Isaac just found it odd that it seemed to be more since prom than Nick’s coming out, but he was not going to ask about that. It made sense he didn’t want to think about. The intense, somewhat dark cloud that seemed to still hang over Nick around Charlie was more worth questioning, but it was also part of what kept Isaac from encroaching on them recently. 

Everyone seemed to have something going on. His going-ons felt a little unworthy, in comparison. He wasn’t sure if he was feeling shit about himself because he didn’t want to put an extra burden on his friends and it was a bit sad he considered his feelings a burden, or if that was an excuse for not having to talk about it because he didn’t really know how and it was making him feel shit. 

So, yes. Out of sorts. 

Out of sorts and alone, most of the time. 

He was not in the habit of pitying himself, however, and he was not about to start now. So what if he was having some life-defining realisations about himself and he had no one to share them with? He’d coped with life mostly on his own so far and he’d continue to do so. 

And he was coping. Perfectly. 

Kind of. 

Sitting in one of his best friend’s houses, surrounded by their other friends and staring into a book was how he always coped, so this was perfectly normal. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t absorbing the words and everyone seemed louder than usual. He hadn’t been sleeping well. He was tired. That’s all he was feeling. 

Tara tugged at his foot from where she and Darcy were perched on the floor by his armchair. “Isaac, we're gonna play a boardgame. Put the book down and come join us!”

Isaac looked, but Tao and Elle were still wrapped up in each other in the corner and Nick and Charlie were nowhere in sight. He raised an eyebrow at Tara. “We are?”

“Yes! Nick and Charlie are away to get them right now, so come get comfy.”

Darcy snorted. “Good idea, because we could be waiting for a bit.”

Tara slugged her shoulder and Darcy only giggled again. 

“Shouldn't they have passed the honeymoon phase by now?” Isaac asked, lowering his book slightly but not yet closing it. 

“Nick and Charlie?” Tara grinned. “I'm not sure those two will ever come out of it.”

“Well, I can't say I don't understand,” Darcy quipped, leaning in to Tara with a grin. Tara turned towards her, and their smiles melded as they kissed.

Isaac snapped his book closed. “Actually, I think I'll go to the loo while we're waiting.”

No one gave any sign of hearing him, so Isaac slipped quietly out of the room and up to the bathroom. He rolled his eyes at the giggles coming from Charlie's room and didn't pause. Closing the bathroom door behind him, he finally released a sharp breath. He perched himself on the edge of the bath and pulled out his phone.

Instagram was a distraction he did not often indulge in. His follow count was small—only his friends and favourite authors alongside a small cluster of bookstagrammers he'd found to have good taste. He saved a couple of recommendation posts, then began clicking through stories, pausing when he reached James's. 

The story was almost timed out, all of it from last night, seemingly at a party. Isaac had stopped on a video where James appeared to be singing along to the song playing with another boy. In the middle of it, the boy had swooped forward to kiss James on the cheek. 

Isaac stared at James’s delighted expression and something complicated clenched in his chest. He quickly locked the phone and set it beside him, directing his focus to the wall. 

It was good, he rationalised. James was wonderful; he deserved to be going out and having fun, and he deserved, without question, to have a handsome boy having fun with him. Whether they were friends or something more didn't matter, but the something more definitely seemed possible, if not likely. And James deserved someone who could give him that. 

Isaac had not been able to give him that—did not want to give anyone that, could not derive any joy from it, even from the chance of it giving joy to someone else. 

He was not incapable of love. He knew that. When he looked at his family, when he looked at Charlie and Tao and Elle, he was always so full of love he felt he might explode from it. It wasn't romantic, and it wasn't physical, but it was love, in its purest form it seemed, to him, given he did not want anything in return for it but their happiness and their continued place in his life. 

It was love, uncomplicated, unconditional love, and why wouldn't that be enough? 

He never seemed to be enough. 

He always did what he could to be a good son and a good friend, and he had never doubted it until recently. James had been one of those good friends. He still was, as far as Isaac was concerned, but their relationship had undeniably changed. Maybe it was simply in an awkward phase that would pass, but Isaac, at the moment, could not believe it would ever be the same. For a time, James had been something of his best friend—not because Isaac liked him more than Charlie or Tao or Elle, or because he really spent more time with him, but because James was Isaac’s friend in a way they were not. They spent time together, the two of them, and shared interests the two of them, and when they had been together they had not felt the need for any company outside of the two of them. 

But that had not meant the same to James as it had to Isaac, and Isaac could not give him anything more. He understood that his rejection would not be taken without consequence, but he hadn't been prepared to be, in a way, rejected in return. 

Was this all he would ever achieve? Having friends who would always be somewhat distant—who would always have someone closer, someone better—or having someone close who would eventually want that closeness in a way he did not. Before, he'd worried he was not worthy of that want to begin with. Never had he thought it would be his inability to return it that would be the issue. Could he be upset, that it was his not wanting to be too close that lost him all closeness as a result? 

He was alone on an island of his own making. He couldn't blame anyone for leaving him there if he wasn't going to invite them in, could he? 

Was this, then—alone in the bathroom of his best friend's house with his phone locked beside him and tears in his throat—all he was destined for? 

Isaac Island, party of one. 

A knock on the door startled him, and he swore quietly as he knocked his phone onto the tiles. As he picked it up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and blanched. There were no tears, but his eyes were red and his face was blotchy and the tears were waiting in his throat, they surely would be there if he went back downstairs to—

Another knock.

“One—one minute,” he tried, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. He quickly turned on the tap and ran his hands and wrists under the cool water, but it did nothing to steady his breathing. The thought of his aloneness had choked him, but the thought of returning into company strangled him. It was not his friends’ fault—he refused to make it his friends’ fault—but at the moment, he couldn't bear them all the same. 

He cupped more cold water in his hands and scrubbed it over his face, but it did not shock him out of the spiral of his thoughts. The third knock barely registered over the growing ringing in his ears. 

“Isaac?” Not Charlie, like Isaac had thought. Not Nick either, or Tara, or any of them. “Are you okay? I'd really like to use the loo.”

His island, he thought deliriously, was sinking; he was drowning, and still, he could do nothing but soak his hands under the tap and soak his face in turn and suck in breaths that did not hold enough oxygen. He was drowning, he was sinking, he could not see it but his body felt it and his lungs were going to seize, he was dying—

He cut the knocking off by throwing open the door and gasping, “Help me.”

Isaac had one second to appreciate Tori’s bewildered expression before it turned serious and she took to action. “Isaac? Hey. Look at me.” She set her hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around his middle, still heaving. “I'm assuming you didn't just get diagnosed with asthma,” Tori said, still impossibly calm—perhaps he was actually the sea, he thought, undefinable and raving, and she the island, unravagable. Isaac shook his head. “Alright. I think, then, this is likely a panic attack. Would it help if I get Charlie?”

Isaac shook his head more vigorously. 

To her credit, Tori only considered him for a few seconds, and didn't argue. She guided him back into the bathroom and gently kicked the door closed. “Sit,” she told him. He did, and she crouched in front of him. Immediately, with his knees pulled to his chest and the bath supporting his back, it was better. He was not so adrift. “You're alright. It will pass. I know it's stupid, but you really do just have to focus on breathing.”

She started counting. It was only when she'd repeated the numbers four times that he understood she was telling him how long to breathe in and out for. Then he tried to follow it, and slowly, air felt like it was moving through him regularly again. 

Isaac wiped at his cheek. To his embarrassment, his fingers came away damp. He didn't look at Tori, but he said, “Thank you.” Then, “Sorry.”

She didn't brush off his apology, or tell him to get out now so she could actually use the loo—both of which would have been fair and not unexpected responses. Instead, she turned and sat next to him. She leaned against the bath to his left, a few inches between their shoulders, and stared at the wall quietly with him. 

When his skin stopped vibrating, he tucked his arms around his middle again and breathed out. “How did you know what to do?” he asked. 

She glanced at him and shrugged. “I didn't, really.”

It was all she offered, but it seemed honest. Isaac decided not to push. He was too grateful to care much. 

“Do you want to tell me what it was about?” she asked, softly. 

Isaac looked over at her. She was looking back, unsmiling but not unhappy. She reminded him a lot of Charlie, Isaac had always thought. They seemed similar in ways they likely weren't even aware of. It was both comforting and unnerving. “Do you really want me to?”

Tori shrugged again. “I'd prefer it if you told Charlie or your other friends, because I think that would be more helpful. But I don't think you want to. So you can tell me, if you need to tell someone.”

That was—exactly what Isaac needed, really. He didn't exactly think it should be Tori. They'd known each other a while, and they liked each other well enough, but they weren't friends. Plus, Isaac knew she and Charlie were actually close; it felt weird and unfair to tell her something and then ask her to keep it from him. 

But in this moment, he could not think of a better option, and the mere thought of getting the weight off his chest was a relief. 

“I think I'm going to end up alone,” he said, blunt and ridiculous. Tori, completely fairly, raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Not because I think I'm unlovable or something like that.” Although that was part of it. “But because—” Could he say the actual words? “—I think I'm asexual, and aromantic, so I don't think I'll ever love love anyone, and I think that means I'll always be a bit alone.”

He could. 

It still seemed sad and pathetic when he said it out loud, maybe even more so, but the act of it—the unretractable reality of it—settled something in him. 

Tori's expression, a little confused but free of judgement, only added to that feeling. “So, you don't feel romantic or sexual attraction,” she said slowly. “At all. Is that what you mean?”

Isaac was vaguely impressed. He nodded. 

“When did you figure this out?”

Isaac took a long, heavy breath. “I think, properly, I started to figure it out in Paris, when I realised this guy liked me and I was trying to figure out if I liked him back? But I think I'd been starting to realise it long before then. I just…hadn't known what to call it, or what it meant.”

Tori, he noticed gratefully, took time to process this before nodding. “And now?”

Isaac blinked. “Now?”

“What do you think it means now?”

Oh. Isaac hadn't expected the question, and he found himself unsure of how to answer. “I think it means I'm always going to be lonely.”

Tori tilted her head. “But you didn't think that before.”

“What?”

“You said you don't think you're unlovable. And I agree. I think Charlie loves you a lot. I think most people would, because you are a very nice person. You didn't think of that as less important because it wasn't romantic before. What changed?”

Changed? Nothing. Everything. They were growing up, and love had more meanings when you grew up, and some of those meanings became less important. He looked at the wall again. “They have other people they love more,” he said softly. 

“And you won't ever have that,” Tori returned, equally soft. Not a barb, not a rebuke, nothing negative at all. Just realising; working through it alongside him. “So you think you won't ever be the most important person to someone.”

Isaac swallowed, unable to answer. Not because he didn't know the answer—because it was yes, it was true, she was right, of course she was—but because it was impossible to admit. 

“I think that's the case for most people,” Tori said, at once blunt and thoughtful. Isaac looked back at her, awaiting an explanation. “Think about it. Even the most in love people usually have children, and then their children are the most important people, or at least equally important. And if they have more than one child, no one of them is the most important, and neither of the parents are the most important to the other. I think, instead of having one supremely important person, most people have a group of important people in their life.”

She looked over at him and continued. “There probably are different levels and different kinds of importance, but I don't think that necessarily means one is worth less than the other.”

Isaac sat, for a moment, and absorbed that. Could it be true? He thought of his family. He was lucky, in that scenario. His parents were kind, were wonderful, and he knew without question that they loved him, and he loved them. Neither one of them, he realised, was more important to him than the other. He had different relationships with them both, but each of their losses would leave an equally sized hole in his heart. 

He knew that probably wasn't the same for most people, but if he could find that one example in his own life so easily, he couldn't deny it was possible in others. 

“I suppose,” Isaac said. “I think I know what you mean. I don't think it's the same, but—I know what you mean.”

Tori did smile, now. A barely there thing, but warm and kind, all the same. “It probably isn't the same. I know me saying I love my brothers equally and neither of them are less important doesn't mean anything for your friends treating you the same as their partners, or even other friends. But I think—every relationship is as important as you make it. And sometimes, people might not know they aren't making it important, if they don't know what's important about it to you.”

“Has important stopped sounding like a real word to you, too?” Isaac asked. 

“About six ‘important’s ago,” Tori agreed. 

Isaac laughed, and his relief grew. Tori's smile also grew, just a tick. 

“You're saying I should just talk to my friends,” Isaac noted, eventually, and Tori's smile grew wry. 

“I did say that at the very beginning, yes.” Isaac laughed again, and she shook her head. “But I am saying you should explain to them. I can't promise you're wrong, or tell you everything will be fine,” she said truthfully. “But I don't think you can assume people can't give you what you need, if you don't tell them what that is and let them try.”

Isaac’s chest tightened again, but it was different to the breathless feeling from before. Instead of hopelessness, it was an anticipatory sort of buzz. There was a sureness that hadn't been there before. 

There was a clatter from outside, and this time it was Charlie's voice that called out. “Isaac! Are you still up here? We have the game set up.”

Isaac looked from the door back to Tori. She gave him another smile and nodded. “Go on. I have really needed to pee for about ten minutes now.”

Isaac laughed, again, and got to his feet. Tori passed his phone up to him, and he thanked her once more. He knew she could tell he meant for everything, and she wouldn't appreciate him making more of it, so he took his leave without another word, leaving her to pee in peace. 

Charlie was hovering at the top of the stairs. His face broke into a smile at Isaac’s appearance. “There you are. You've been up here ages.” His smile drooped slightly as Isaac came closer. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Isaac nodded. “Sorry, I got caught talking to Tori.”

“In the bathroom?” Charlie huffed, bewildered but amused. For a moment Isaac pictured Tori's expression when he'd opened the door to her, and he smiled. 

He only hesitated for a second before saying, “I wanted to talk to all of you about something, actually.”

Immediately, Charlie's expression softened. “Yeah?” When Isaac nodded, Charlie smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him towards the staircase. “Come on, then. The game can wait.”

[theicequeenwrites]

the last chapter has been posted and at 36.8k words & 94 pages ten years time is finally done, which is my longest work to date. what a journey!

read here

Summary:

“So your therapist strongly recommends against four-way hate-dates but here we are anyway?” Robby finally says, breaking the stunned silence.

Tory snorts. “Well, I can agree with anything a therapist doesn’t recommend.”

Sam smiles, no beams at her, and Miguel’s world shifts off the axis. Sam glances down, her eyes snagging on her watch. “Oh shit, I have to go. We’ll text though make plans for our first…hate-date.”

Or, ten years later, still haunted by the way their high school years unfolded, Sam reunites Robby, Tory, Miguel and herself to make peace with their past.

[secretsandwritings-blog]

Personally, I believe that I would be hilarious to write a series based on my version of the Lawrusso family so you guys can see what I envision for them and to say they cause havoc in my brain is understatement, lol 😆

[ninjababypowpow]

Last line challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

Fox worked very hard not to stiffen at the way the attention snapped to Dogma so suddenly, but his vod’ika breathed in, rolled his shoulders back subtly and saluted. “Private CT-6622, sir. I am Co- Representative Fox’s aide.” CMO Bubbles tilted his head a bit, furrowing his brow a little before he nodded, face smoothing out in a smile. “Is ‘22 okay then?” “Uh, ye-” “Are you seriously ordering your men not to tell us their names?” Rex cut in with a heavy frown, just this side of a glare, in Fox’s direction and Bubbles looked at him as if he was insane. “Uh, how did you infer that from the vod’ika just telling me he prefers us to use his number instead? Representative Fox hasn’t even said anything yet, Captain.”

So are we gonna just tag each other back and forth? XD

I mean who cares?? The fandom police?? So the ball's in your court again @hopefullyakotelife, and also...*pokepoke* @hastalavistabyebye

[emloafs]

hawkmetri x amnesia trope

“It hasn’t even been a week,” Demetri reminds him gently. “With more rest, you’ll continue to heal. You have to take it easy. One step at a time.”

 

“It’s hard to take it easy when everyone’s been staring at me all day,” Eli mutters. 

 

Demetri’s thumb brushes back and forth against his right hand. Eli is reminded of Demetri doing the same thing in the hospital. 

 

“I told you,” Demetri smirks. “It’s the hair.”

 

Eli huffs out a laugh. “When you said I don’t wear it down out of the house I didn’t know it was this deep.”

 

Absentmindedly, Demetri reaches up to brush a long strand that fell in front of Eli’s face behind his ear. Eli’s breath catches. 

 

Relax , Eli scolds himself. It’s just Demetri. 

 

“Well, I certainly like seeing it down more,” Demetri admits softly, gaze focused on the hair between his fingers.

 

Eli doesn’t think he’s breathing at all anymore. 

 

Demetri seems to realize himself and drops his hand abruptly. He clears his throat and stutters,

“Uh- you know, the mohawks cool and all, but I- I was worried all the hair gel was seeping into your brain,” He jokes nervously. 

 

“Right,” Eli brushes it off. Whatever that was …

 

There’s a pause, and then,

 

“Do you want to know why you got it?” 

 

“The haircut?” 

 

Demetri is looking at him seriously. 

 

“I thought you wanted me to remember everything on my own,” Eli mumbles, looking at his hands. He thinks back to their run-in with Moon.

 

“I do,” Demetri agrees. “But, you’ve been so in your head about what everyone’s thinking about you. It reminds me of when you decided to get the mohawk and the back tattoo in the first place.”

chapter 4 of my fic is up now :)

[genderflu1dwh0r]

Jade knew what she had to do, she had planned it out for months, she had figured out everything. She saved up money and was ready. She paced around the house, constantly checking the clock. She went to her little brother, who was laying on the couch, dozing off while the TV played some cartoon. She bent down, moving his hair out of his face slightly and kissing his forehead. "I love you, Jake. Please behave for mom and dad." She whispered softly, before fixing his blanket and going downstairs to the den. She grabbed her bags and leather jacket.

Jade went back upstairs, opening the front door. She looked back at Jake, taking a deep breath. She turned and shut the door behind her. She went to her car, opening the trunk and putting all her things in it before shutting it and getting into the drivers seat. "Ready?" Tori asked, in the passenger side. Jade stared out of the windshield, thinking. Eventually she nodded, starting up the car. "Yeah." She barely spoke, starting to drive.

They drove for hours, stopping at a gas station. "You know you shouldn't feel bad, Jade will survive without you always being there for him." Tori said as she leaned against the car while Jade filled the car up. Jade didn't look at her, she kept filling. Tori sighed, tilting her head. "You are doing this because your parents don't accept you, you need to take care of yourself first. You are doing the right thing, even if it doesn't feel like it." Tori said leaning off of the car and kissed Jade's cheek. "I'm gonna go get snacks. I love you." She said before going into the convenience store.

Jade stared at the car, knowing Tori was right. She just felt awful leaving her brother alone, Jake was her best friend, she loved seeing him smile. When she picked him up from school, he would always tell her about his day. Now it's gone. She's not gonna get that anymore. She's not gonna get his ice cream covered smile, or his stories. No more hugs, no more playing video games with him. It hurt to leave it all behind, but Tori was right. She needed to take care of herself first, and if leaving the country was the thing that she needed to do, then so be it.

When she heard Tori talking, she looked up, realizing the car was filled up. She took the pump nozzle out and set it back. Tori was talking about how nice the cashier was, and how she had cool hair. Jade got back in the car, starting it up again. "You can really make friends with anyone." She said pulling out of the space and getting back on the road. Tori smiled, eating a chip. "I made you fall in love with me, so yes." She teased. Jade tried not to smile, but Tori had a point. She smiled and looked over at her for a second. "I love you."