#sans x tori

[sombraoscura15]

Resumen del cap 5 de Underfissure:

Fan art enviado por mi amigo Rodo, c paso jajj.

A esta obra la titulo: El sans que vio lo peor de internet.

[thatwonpersons]

rough sketch of tomorrows drawing

super excited ngl

hope I actually finish it this time >:(

[reasoningdaily]

My former U.S. Track and Field teammate Tori Bowie, who was found dead in her home in Florida on May 2, of complications related to childbirth at 8 months pregnant, was a beautiful runner. She was effortless. At the Rio Olympics, I ran the second leg of the 4 x 100 relay. Tori was the anchor. When she got the baton, I remember thinking, “it’s over.” She just accelerated. When she crossed the finish line, I couldn’t wait to run over to her to celebrate. It was her first, and only, Olympic gold medal.

She also picked up a silver (in the 100-m) and bronze (200-m) in Brazil. The next year, at the 2017 World Championships in London, Tori won the 100-m title, earning the title of “world’s fastest woman.” Tori started out as a long jumper. So seeing her thrive as a sprinter was a huge deal. She was just such a bright light, and people were getting to see that.

Tori grew up in Mississippi and had this huge Southern accent. She didn’t take herself too seriously. You felt this sense of ease when you were around her. I last saw her in early 2021, in San Diego, where she was training. She gave me the biggest hug; something about her spirit was just very, very sweet. I felt her sweetness come over me that day.

Tori was 32 when she died. According to the autopsy, possible complications contributing to Bowie’s death included respiratory distress and eclampsia—seizures brought on by preeclampsia, a high blood pressure disorder that can occur during pregnancy. I developed preeclampsia during my pregnancy with my daughter Camryn, who was born in November 2018. The doctors sent me to the hospital, where I would deliver Camryn during an emergency C-section, at 32 weeks. I was unsure if I was going to make it. If I was ever going to hold my precious daughter.

Like so many Black women, I was unaware of the risks I faced while pregnant. According to the CDC, in 2021 the maternal mortality rate for Black women was 2.6 times the rate for white women. About five days before I gave birth to Camryn, I was having Thanksgiving dinner with my family. I mentioned that my feet were swollen. As we went around the table, the women shared their experiences during pregnancy. My cousin said she also had swollen feet. My mom didn’t. Not once did someone say, ‘oh, well, that’s one of the indicators of preeclampsia.’ None of us knew. When I became pregnant, my doctor didn’t sit me down and tell me, ‘these are things that you should look for in your pregnancy, because you are at a greater risk to experience these complications.’

That needs to change, now, especially in light of Tori’s tragic passing. Awareness is huge. Serena Williams had near-death complications during her pregnancy. Beyoncé developed preeclampsia. I hate that it takes Tori’s situation to put this back on the map and to get people to pay attention to it. But oftentimes, we need that wake-up call.

The medical community must do its part. There are so many stories of women dying who haven’t been heard. Doctors really need to hear the pain of Black women.

Luckily, there’s hope on several fronts. Congress has introduced the Momnibus Act, a package of 13 bills crafted to eliminate racial disparities in maternal health and improve outcomes across the board. California passed Momnibus legislation back in 2021. These laws make critical investments in areas like housing, nutrition, and transportation for underserved communities. Further, several pharmaceutical companies are making advances on early detection and treatment of preeclampsia.

Three gold medalists from that 4 x 100 relay team in Rio set out to become mothers. All three of us—all Black women—had serious complications. Tianna Madison has shared that she went into labor at 26 weeks and entered the hospital “with my medical advance directive AND my will.” Tori passed away. We’re dealing with a Black Maternal Health crisis. Here you have three Olympic champions, and we’re still at risk.

I would love to have another child. That’s something that I know for sure. But will I be here to raise that child? That’s a very real concern. And that’s a terrifying thing. This is America, in 2023, and Black women are dying while giving birth. It’s absurd.

I’m hopeful that things can get better. I’m hopeful that Tori, who stood on the podium at Rio, gold around her neck and sweetness in her soul, won’t die in vain.

—as told to Sean Gregory

[sombraoscura15]

Otro gran dibujo de Fissure Sans con Alter Tori

Nuestro querido artista Hank nombro a la pareja Duo Dinamico. Cuando ambos monstruos entran en batalla una nueva musica entra en escena y unos locos ataques y dialogos se hacen presentes, pronto estara su ost :D.

[hauntedtoybox]

tori-dango by san ei (x x x / x x x / x x x)

[rencoons-trashcan]

He means the world to me you have no idea...

(wanted to post this as an extra for the Valentine's day drawings, but could't have finished it on time X,l)

[Also lil' rambilng about the man under the cut hehe]

Even tough I love and adore all my skrungly wunglies so much, there's something about Sans that none of the other blorbos can do and it's that he would be the only one who could actually get to know the real me/ my true-self (I sound crazy lmao but if you know what I'm talking about/mean here you'll get me).

Like, with the other blorbos I HAVE to make self-insert "ocs" trying to make stuff up so it makes sense in the timeline or the story of the media (yeah, even though it doesn't look like it I do that when selfshipping but I never post about it lmao), but here with Sans I can fully insert myself y'know? Also the fact that literally the game is aware that IT IS A GAME makes it easier to trully feel yourself as your own character there, taking part of everything and making interactions a bit more personal.

All that stuff, the closeness you feel and imagining this man accompanying me through so many things makes him so important for me, like a good old friend that you've known all your life, even like some sort of personal guardian (even tho his ass canonically is lazy as fuck to be something like that, but he did have that promise with Tori to protect Frisk/the player after all, right?).

To sum up, I love this man so much and he will always mean everything to me ;;w;; <3<3

[keikikait]

ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟʟ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part 3 of a series. you can find part one here and part two here

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s), slight nanami x reader (...)

word count: 3.4k

summary: the first two weeks of teaching again go by quickly. you find yourself right smack in the middle of the annual winter festival. gojo took his own date, and so did you. 

warnings: (FOR THIS PART) angst, some self-deprecating stuff, themes of depression, mean gojo, mention of blood, mention of getting eaten (pls don’t ask), cheating???? nickname use [baby, doll (once)], no use of y/n,

a note: this is a repost with an angstier ending, as a lot of angst was voted for (see poll), so here we are, though there is a happy ending. dunno if I'll ever do a part 4.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You and Gojo have a routine.

First, you get ready together, fucking in the shower, trying to push him off as you apply mascara as he greedily rubs up against you. You eat breakfast together, both enjoying your matcha (yours, of course, being a latte. Gojo always goes the more traditional route). He drags on the kiss as you exit your apartment, whining when he finally has to let you go.

Second, he stands a few feet away from you on the train as you make your way outside of Tokyo. He never looks at you, his focus on anyone or anything that catches his eye. You watch him, admiring him, wanting him to just look over so he could admire you too. You want Gojo to see you in the way you see him. You want him to finally care, to beg and plead for you, to feel the way you do. You want him to love you.

Third, you walk towards campus, a few feet behind him just in case anyone is watching. You watch as he effortlessly joins Shoko and Akari’s conversation as they walk up the stairs through the tori gate, not glancing back at you even once. You follow behind them, the sounds of their laughter filling your ears. Surrounding you. Swallowing you whole, only to spit you out broken and battered. The snow crunches under your feet, silencing your thoughts — but only for a second. Your thoughts are like wolves, stalking you and waiting to pounce, waiting for you to be vulnerable.

Your routine takes hold of you, and the days blend together as you relive the same painful day over and over. Maybe this is all a punishment for your hubris, karma from the gods for loving him. You watch him live so effortlessly without you, as you sit around hoping he’ll meet your gaze for just a second. The thoughts come, as they always do, and soon you’re surrounded by wolves, bloodied and battered and waiting to be eaten. And then, the wolves disappear into smoke, and you have Gojo for just a brief second before he pushes you back into the wolf’s den. Maybe this time you’ll let the wolves eat you. Your last words would be Gojo’s name before your mouth fills with blood as you get your throat ripped out. You wonder if you would even be on his mind after.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You look up from your desk to see Nobara standing there, smiling, her books in her arms. You zoned out through the entire lesson, students trying to pile out the door behind her. You look at her again and smile. “Yes?”

She smiles, clutching her books a little tighter. “Are you going to the festival tonight?”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly at the mention of the festival. “Yes, I am. Why?”

Nobara shifts on her feet. “Are you going with Gojo-sensei?”

Gods, even his name causes goosebumps to appear on your body. “No, Kugisaki-san. I’m not taking anyone with me.”

Nobara pouts a little. “Oh come on! You guys would be perfect together!” Your eye twitches and your stomach lurches. “It’s his loss, I guess.” She moves away as quickly as she appears, following Megumi out the classroom door.

You hear a snarl, and just like that the wolves are back. They follow you around as you make your way through your day, biting at your ankles. They follow you as you make your way off campus, heading to the train station. You slide your way into the crowd making its way into the station, pushing your way past students and businessmen. You’re trying to make your train, yes, but you’re also escaping the wolves that are chasing you, foaming at the mouth at the idea of tasting you. You fear that if they catch you you might never make it out alive, your body left cold on the floor of the train station, people stepping over you and moving on with their lives, because, in the end, you didn’t matter.

“Excuse me,” You say softly, pushing past a tall man. Your fingers brush over the light tan colouring of his suit as you put your hand on his arm to steady yourself in the crowd. The man mumbles something before he looks over and tilts his head. He says your name so softly you almost don’t hear him. You finally get a look at his face as he towers over you, and your heart beats a little faster. “Nanami?”

You’ve met Kento Nanami before and spoken in brief conversations, even when he’s been an adjunct professor at the school and taught a lesson. You always noticed that he didn’t speak a lot, at least not to you. You appreciated the silence sometimes, a stark difference from Gojo’s constant running mouth, but the times he would simply just ignore you while you helped him plan lessons and prepare demonstrations left a bad feeling in your stomach. In those moments you didn’t just wonder if you were good enough for Gojo, you wondered if you were good enough for anyone. 

He looks deep into your eyes, and the wolves turn to dust. He smiles softly at you, but in your eyes, it looks almost forced. “Hey there. Long time no see. How are you?”

You think this might be the most words he’s ever spoken to you. “I’m doing great. How are you?”

Nanami nods. “Fine, you know how the 7 to 3 life is. Are you still assisting Gojo at the school?”

It’s your turn to nod this time. “Yes. For another year and a half.”

He smiles, and it seems more genuine than the last. “A year and a half of dealing with Gojo… I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.” You laugh, and it’s the first genuine laugh you’ve had in almost a month.

Instead of catching your usual train home, you opt to sit and chat with Nanami. This is the most extroverted you’ve ever seen him, and this is definitely the most eye contact you’ve ever shared. He leans back on the bench, legs stretched out straight, playing with the end of his tie while he talks to you. 

You had noticed it before, but now you’re certain. Kento Nanami is hot. His voice, his face, his hands, his arms…you’re finding yourself squirming on the bench and trying to calm your nerves as he stares at you, almost forcing you to keep eye contact. 

You stiffen when you hear the next announcement, the realisation hitting that it’s your next train arriving soon. You stand up, gathering your things. “My train is almost here. I’m sorry that we have to cut this conversation short.”

He waves it off. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll just have more to talk about next time.” 

Next time. You feel slight butterflies in your stomach when thinking about your next conversation with him. All you manage to say is, “For sure. I would like that.” You head to your platform, clutching your bag close when Nanami calls your name again, much more confident than before. You turn to face him, the wind from the train approaching whipping through your hair.

He glances down the platform, seemingly nervous. “Are you going to the festival tonight?”

You have to speak a little louder as the train starts to near the station. “Yes, I am.”

Nanami smiles, a look of nervousness still staining his face. “Great. I’m going too. What if we went together?”

The train approaches and you yell over the noise, “I would like that!”

He hears you and smiles, yelling his goodbyes over the train as you enter its doors. You find a seat next to the window, and you wave to each other as the train starts to move. The train pulls out of the station, taking you home, and a smile creeps onto your face as you sink into the seat. Part of you feels guilty, begging you to consider your relationship with Gojo, but the other part of you thinks; what relationship? Plus, you’re going to the festival with Nanami as friends, acquaintances, nothing more. At least, that’s how you view it.

You head home, once again finding yourself vulnerable in the wolf's den. You wonder how it would feel if you let them attack you, how it would feel to be pinned down and scratched and chewed on like a piece of dried octopus. Would Gojo notice you, finally, as you lay dead, your blood leaking out of your shredded throat? Would he turn away, avert his gaze at the sight of his dead lover? Or would he simply stare before stepping over you?

The wolves stalk you as you make your way back to the station, the snow falling softly, sticking to your hair. You feel nervous; nervous about seeing Nanami again, and nervous about seeing Gojo with Himiko. You had almost forgotten her name, but deep down you wish you did. Maybe thinking about her as a faceless, nameless entity would make your throat stop closing up.

You climb your way up the steps of the school, and you start to smile when you see Nanami waiting for you. The sun is setting, casting a beautiful pink glow to him, and in this moment you think he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. The glasses he’s normally wearing are long gone, and he switched out his suit for a black sweater, dark blue slacks, a long brown trenchcoat, and a scarf in the same Rorschach-esque design as his usual tie and sword. 

Your stomach flutters as you approach him. “Hey.”

He stares at you for a second before saying, “Hey.” You stare at each other, admiring one another, and butterflies in your stomach won’t stop flying around, bumping into the walls of your intestines. You don’t know what you’re feeling, and you don’t know if you like it.

You clear your throat, stepping towards the gate. “Let’s head in.” Nanami nods and follows you inside the campus. You walk together through the festival, the air around you almost feeling electric, the campus replacing its usual student occupants with a bustling crowd and food carts. Takoyaki, yakitori, yakisoba, everything just smells so delicious. Maybe the wolves won’t be hungry for you tonight.

You and Nanami wander, your hands occasionally brushing as you chat about work and life, lost in the heat of your conversation. You find a stall finally offering drinks, and you both purchase some green tea before sitting down, your back to the festival. You’re in the middle of one of Nanami’s corporate world stories when his eyes drift behind you and he smiles. “There he is!”

Confused, you look over your shoulder, only to be met with the looming figure of Gojo. He stares down at you and Nanami, his blindfold covering his eyes. Right next to him is, you assume, Himiko, a tall woman, dressed to the nines in what might be real fox fur. She’s beautiful. More beautiful than you. You hear another snarl as the wolves come creeping out of the dark classrooms, towards you. Was this your competition? Your replacement? Did she have his heart already, or did he hide it from her like he did you?

Gojo clears his throat, glancing away before turning his gaze back to you and Nanami. “Here I am.”

Even now, you admire him. He’s so effortlessly beautiful, everything he does causes you to lose your breath. The way the wind pushes his hair back, the way his hoodie sits around his hips…you’re in love with him. As much as you hate it, as much as it destroys you, you love him. You can practically feel the wolf pinning you to the cave floor and ripping your beating heart out of your chest, chewing it, and swallowing it in one bite.

Nanami notices your gaze, too. He notices the way you look at Gojo, the absolute adoration in your eyes. The way your breath hitches, the way your thighs subconsciously squeeze together. The way your cheeks change colour and the way your whole body relaxes. Nanami notices Gojo’s body language, too, almost as if he could see his eyes under the blindfold. He puts it together too quickly, and clears his throat, standing up from the table, trying to hide his disappointment that you were in love with someone else. “I’m gonna get another tea.” He moves through the crowd towards the stall and you go to follow him, brushing past Gojo when he suddenly reaches out and grabs your arm, squeezing it tight.

“We need to talk,” he says.

“No, we don’t,” you respond. He squeezes your arm even tighter, before tugging you along behind him as he walks away from Nanami and Himiko. 

Gojo drags you into his classroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He stares at you, his arms crossed, before finally speaking, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You’re confused, and your eyebrows furrow slightly. “Trying to enjoy my time at the festival.”

Gojo’s voice is laced with poisonous anger, and you’re almost afraid to breathe it in. “With Nanami?”

You swallow. “He asked me to come with him.”

Gojo's shoulders relax for a second before tensing up again. “You’re on a date? With Nanami?”

Your face turns red. “This isn’t a date.”

“Yes, it is,” Gojo says firmly. “He asked you on a date. And you agreed.”

You find yourself starting to get angry. “So what if it is a date?”

His jaw clenches. “Excuse me?”

You take a step back. “So what if it is a date, Gojo? You’re on one too, in case you forgot.”

Gojo laughs. “You mean Himiko? This isn’t a date. I’m just doing a favour for Shoko, I’m trying to help her friend get settled into the city. You shouldn’t be mad at me for --”

You interrupt him. “Cut the shit. You’re on a date with a girl who isn’t me.”

“It isn’t a date,” Gojo says.

You feel yourself getting angrier and angrier. “That’s what it looks like.”

“It doesn’t matter what it looks like,” Gojo says. “It isn’t the truth. If you would just let me explain-”

“Explain what?” You snap, the anger threatening to break the surface. “How do you agree to go on a date with another woman?”

There’s a pause before he says, “Don’t interrupt me again, doll. Remember who’s in charge here.”

Your fists clench. “God, can I fucking talk? Sat—Gojo, you have to understand how it makes me feel.”

You fucked up. You know you shouldn’t call him that, that forbidden name, but it just slipped out. Your words die in your throat, and your anger starts to dissolve into anxiety. You don’t know much about Geto, but you do know that Gojo’s first name is reserved for him, and you broke Gojo’s only rule. 

He doesn’t say anything, but you can physically feel the shift in the air. A cold shiver runs down your spine. The mask across his eyes doesn’t help, his emotions unreadable. 

“Gojo, I’m sorry,” You say. You approach him gently. “I’m sorry.”

You feel yourself getting more and more anxious as he just stands there. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak. He just stands there, looking down at you from his imposing height. You can only sit helplessly as he tosses you back into the wolf's den, and you can’t run away as they start tearing at you. You wonder if he’ll keep your head, mouth open and cold and blue, on display on a mantle on his wall, a message to all that watch to never love him.

It feels like an eternity before he speaks. “I trusted you."

Your bottom lip trembles. "You still can. It was an accident--"

"It doesn't matter if it was an accident or not," Gojo says, looking down at the ground. "You know not to call me that. Don't act like you can replace him."

A few tears fall down your face. "No...I know I can't, Gojo, I know I can't replace him. But I swear it was an accident."

"It doesn't matter," Gojo says after a beat. "What matters is you’re mine, and you're on a date with Nanami."

"It's not a date, Gojo," You say. "He and I are just friends."

"You would only be here with him if you had feelings for him," Gojo says.

You start to cry now. "I have feelings for you, Gojo. Not Nanami."

That makes him pause. "I know you do."

"Then why are you here with Himiko?" You ask, starting to feel angry again. "Why aren't you here with me?"

“Himiko means nothing to me.” Gojo says. "You know we couldn't go to the festival together. It would be suspi--"

"Suspicious, yes, I got it." You snap. "You didn't have to go with her. You could've turned down Shoko's offer."

"And what would I look like then?" Gojo asks. "I would look like a bad friend and a bad coworker. I have a reputation to uphold."

"Why does your reputation matter more than me?" You ask, your voice becoming louder.

"Because it's all I have!" Gojo says, his voice matching yours. "I'm Satoru Gojo, I'm the strongest! I can't have any baggage, I can't have anyone be important to me. That's how I become weak, and that's how I lose everything. Including you."

"Why do you treat me like this?” you ask, angry tears running down your cheeks. “Why do you always put me second? Why do you always make me feel so unwanted? Am I not good enough for you? Am I not what you want? Am I not what you need?”

He pauses and remains silent for a long time. He takes a deep breath, his voice stern once again. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You are good enough for me, you’re too good for me. You’re the most beautiful, caring person that I’ve ever met. I treat you like garbage, and yet you always come back to me. I’m mean to you, and you accept it with a smile on your face. But you have to understand that this is more important to me. It's more important than you…if I appear weak, I fail. If I fail, I lose everything and everyone." He gets close to you, grabbing your face. "I already lost someone important to me. I can't lose you too."

"Do you care about me?" You ask softly.

He nods. "Of course I do."

You swallow hard, nervous to ask your next question. "Do you love me?"

He hesitates.

In that moment, even without him speaking, you know your answer. You go to say something else but he interrupts. "I can. Eventually. One day. I just can't love you right now."

"When is eventually?" You ask.

He shakes his head. "I don't know. I care about you, you know that. You know that I love our time together, and I look forward to every single second I get to spend with you. I just can't love you right now, not in the way that you want me to. The way that you need me to."

"Will you ever love me?" You ask.

He doesn't hesitate when he answers, "Yes."

You close your eyes, sighing. "When?"

He strokes your cheekbones. "Soon."

"How close is soon?"

"Close enough."

You pause. You feel the presence of the wolves again, biting on your ankles, threatening to drag you down into the depths of the den and tear you limb from limb. Would they chew on your bones after? Would it be quick, painless? Or would you survive for just long enough to watch them eat you?

Gojo calms the wolves, but only for so long. He’s a protective light as you hide in the walls of the den, stepping over the corpses of those before you. He’s the one, he’s all you’ve ever wanted, and you think you’ll regret this.

You nod, accepting his answer.

He pulls you close and hugs you. He kisses the top of your head and takes a deep breath before saying, “Have I ever told you about Geto?” You shake your head, you know next to nothing about the man. Gojo never told you, and you never asked. He strokes your hair and sighs. “Do you want to hear about him?” 

You nod, and Gojo tells you.

He tells you all about Geto — Suguru, as he calls him. You’ve never heard him speak so softly. He recounts his memories, smiling and even laughing at some parts. You listen to every word, and you don’t speak. You can tell, just from his words, that Gojo loved him, but you can also tell that he will always love Geto more than he loves you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part four is here

★taglist: @heijihattorisgf, @strxxberries, @sadmonke, @mo0nforme, @whereflowerswenttodie, @mwtsxri, @tuliptoot, @certainduckanchor, @softhrted (italics mean i couldn't tag you)

[kitten4sannie]

23 - ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ/ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ - ꜱᴀɴ

ᴀɴɢᴇʟ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀʙᴏᴠᴇ

pairing: business man! san x stripper! reader (fem)

summary: san finds himself visiting his favorite dancer instead of going back home to his wife.

w.c: 3k

warnings: alcohol use, san and reader are both a mess, sub! leaning san, dom leaning! reader, cheating, lap dance, grinding, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: shoutout to the anon for giving me this idea by sharing this vid whewwwwww this is for you <3 also i struggled sm trying to explain what she was doing on the pole im so sorry loll

btw some song recs would be fwm by tone stith, me by summer walker, lavender sunflower by tory lanez, and the weekend by sza

FFF Masterlist

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Sitting in an almost-empty office, San stared blankly at the monitor in front of him, knowing he finished his work early but finding himself reluctant to pack up and go home. Why wouldn't he want to go home? He had a beautiful wife waiting for him, who was probably pulling something yummy out of the oven. Maybe she was even wearing a cute little apron, hoping he would come home and see her in it. Yet, he found himself thinking about the dancer he met a few months ago at the gentlemen's club just around the corner from his work. There was even an ATM right outside of it, just asking him to take out hundreds of dollars and spend it all on her.

"Hey, San," his coworker said, putting his hands on San's tense shoulders and patting them, noticing that he had shut his computer down and was putting some files away into his suitcase. "Heading home?"

San stood up and slicked his hair back, allowing a few strands to fall onto his forehead. "Yep," he replied shortly, giving the man a polite smile and walking past him, hoping he couldn't somehow tell that he was about to cheat. Well, it wasn't technically cheating, right? It was pretty much the same thing as looking at those certain magazines that they sold at gas stations, but just in real life. It’s not like he was sleeping with you. He still loved his wife. He did. He really did. He just needed to see you one more time. After this, he was done. He was certain of it.

"Are you coming in or not?" the oversized bouncer asked in a deep voice, looking at the anxious, sweating businessman idly standing in front of the open club door with a thousand dollars just sitting inside his black tailored pants.

Fixing his glasses out of habit, he let out a nervous laugh, nodding his head. "Yep, I'm coming in. Uh, have a good night." He gave the man a weak wave and shuffled past him, making his way through the long hallway past some patrons and a few dancers. When San made it into the main room, he was immediately bathed in crimson lighting, dark and seductive, like he had stepped foot into hell. He might as well have. He was ready to sin.

After he was done taking in his surroundings, he headed to the bar and sat down at the seat that had the best view of the main stage. "Your usual, Mr. Choi?" the bartender asked, wiping a pint glass with a rag, noticing how San simply sat still on his stool and scanned the various platforms on the other side of the room.

You weren't anywhere to be seen. Would you be coming out soon? You always worked on Friday nights. Maybe you were in the back getting ready. Probably putting some glitter on your eyelids and drawing a tiny heart near your cheek with some eyeliner. It was the cutest thing. You were always so cute, like a pretty little angel. Yet, when you got on stage, you would always give him this look. Like you were picturing all the things he could do to you, and all the things you could do to him, maybe even right there where everyone could watch. That’s when you reminded him that you were actually sin incarnate. But he knew that already. And he didn't mind.

"Mr. Choi?" the man tried again, holding out a glass filled with ice, tea, and various amounts of alcohol. "Your long island ice tea."

San snapped his head back towards the man, taking the glass and nodding his head. "Thanks, man." He brought the straw up to his lips and sucked the drink down, delighted that it got rid of the remaining guilt he felt, idly glancing around the room again, this time scanning the various men sitting in their seats, some with a dancer in their lap. None of them were you.

The bartender shook his head, leaning his forearms on the table below. "Are you waiting for Angel to come out, Mr. Choi?"

Halfway through his drink, San choked on some of the liquid, swallowing it down anyway and clearing his throat. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he faced the man again, a slight frown forming. "Am I that obvious?"

The man smiled to himself, glancing over to the main stage entrance, knowing you would be coming out soon. "She talks about you a lot, you know. She's constantly asking when we think you'll come back."

This was news to him. Sure, you were always friendly and flirty with him. Always referring to him as "Mr. Business Man" or "Sannie." The second was his favorite. It always made him melt. His wife wouldn't even call him that anymore. Said it was childish. Though, when you said it, with that coy look on your face and batting your long eyelashes at him, the only thoughts he had were inexplicably adult. Maybe you were into him. You. His angel. That changed things. And at this point, he was already in too deep, so why not get buried?

"What does she say about me?" San probed, drinking the rest of the tea down until he was sucking on the ice at the bottom of the glass. Warmth flooded his brain and body, encouraging him to unbutton his black blazer and pull it off. As he carefully draped it over the bar counter, everything around him began slowing down to a crawl.

"That you're her favorite," the man replied softly, idly glancing at the silver ring San was wearing on his ring finger, then walking over to serve another customer. It wasn't any of his business. He was just a bartender. He tapped the table near San, motioning his head to the main stage. "She's on, by the way."

Spinning around in his seat, San felt like all the air inside his lungs suddenly dissipated. His reddened eyes focused on your curvy figure appearing out of the darkness of the stage entrance, his eyes traveling along your almost naked body. You were wearing a matching set like you always did. This time, you were wearing a tiny black latex bra, the nonexistent cups barely covering your nipples, your tits practically spilling out of them. He gulped so hard, he almost swallowed his Adam's apple by accident. An equally black, equally nonexistent thong clung tightly to your hips and pelvis, one micro-movement away from having everyone see your pretty pink–

"Pussy," said a random drunk man sitting next to San, throwing back a shot of vodka. When San gave him a dirty look, the man shook his head. "Don't just stare at her, bro. Go sit in that chair over there and let her know you like her. Trust me. Angel's worth it."

Turning away form the guy in silence, San undid his tie and laid it over his jacket, trusting that the bartender would look after it for him. Putting the image of his wife sitting at the empty dinner table by herself, San quickly made his way past a few tables and booths, eventually sitting down in the empty seat near the front section of the stage.

Taking a few drawn out steps around the pole, you ran a hand up your body, your hips swaying along to the slow, thumping beats of the song playing through the surrounding speakers. Like a snake hypnotizing its prey before striking. Once you grabbed the pole and moved your body in a slow wavelike motion, you turned around and leaned your body back against it, gazing down at your favorite businessman. Your eyes surveyed his lap, wondering if the visible tent in his work pants was a stack of cash or his hard cock. Either was fine with you.

"Angel..." San murmured to himself, unconsciously spreading his thick thighs apart, hoping you could read his lips. He slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling some of the cash into his tense hand.

Once the song picked up a bit, the bass still so intense it vibrated through your chest, you propelled yourself forward and climbed onto the pole like it was second nature, hooking one of your legs onto it, moving around the pole in steady circles. Sighing, you slid a hand up from your abdomen, up and over one of your tits, then up your neck. Everyone's eyes were on you, though you couldn't blame them. You were the true embodiment of desire. The angel that everyone wanted to defile and keep for themselves. Yet, they had no idea that you were the one who did the defiling, the corrupting, the owning. And your current target was…

"San," you whispered, running your tongue along the inside of your glossy lips, gripping the pole tight enough with one hand so that you could lean your head back. Amused by the businessman's submissive demeanor after eyeing the growing tent inside his pants, you squeezed the metal securely between your thighs, allowing you to release your hands from it and hang more upside down, slipping your fingers up underneath your bra to grab at your tits, pulling a bit on your nipple piercings for your own pleasure. You continued to spin around the pole in slow circles, the monochrome lights flashing above the stage further enhancing the hypnotic show you were putting on.

One of the men stood up and sent a stack of cash into the air, watching it rain down around you. You smiled to yourself, sitting back up to hold the pole both in front of your chest and one below near your lower abdomen, making sure you were stable. You lifted yourself up into an upside down vertical position and clenched your legs around the pole before slowly spreading them, appearing like you were doing a full split in the air. Another man followed the actions of the first, pulling some twenties out of his pocket and sending them out into the air, his hooded eyes locked on the way your ass was eating up the thin strap of your thong. All these men were like putty in your hands. Ready to give up most of their paychecks, all for the slim chance that they could fuck you for real. It was pathetic.

When the song came to a drop, you slid yourself down the bottom of the pole, slowly lowering yourself onto the cool stage in the splits, arching your back, your hands groping along your body, squeezing your tits and letting out a soft moan, though no one could hear you over the loud bass on the song. You looked up over at San, licking your lips, before you got onto your knees and crawled towards him, your heavy heels clinking against the stage with each deliberate movement. Gazing at him like a predator cornering their next meal, you eventually got to the edge of the stage and slowly sat back on your knees, running your hands slowly up your body, slowly leaning your head back and arching your back again.

Drunk with lust and alcohol, San couldn't help but readjust himself in the leather chair, the pulsing beats of the song emanating heavily inside his ears, a similar pulsing occurring below the belt. Swallowing down his nerves, he pulled a few hundreds out, waiting for you to look at him, before he leaned forward and sent them out onto the stage in front of you.

Licking your lips at the money spread out below you, your fingers snuck up to the front of your bra and popped it up, your tits dropping out of it. The men around all emitted various low sounding groans, some of them palming themselves or sliding down in their seats. San was in a similar state of desperation, his cock so hard it was about to burst out of his pants.

When the music played the sound of a woman’s moans playing alongside pulsing, synth like music, encouraging you to begin moving your hips in an up and down motion, as though you were riding an imaginary dick, making San and everyone else in the room wish it were his. You kept your eyes on the struggling businessman, grabbing at your tits, moaning softly, your eyebrows drawing together.

Not able to take it any longer, San held out three hundreds and placed it down on his crotch in between his large thighs, spreading them apart to entice you.

Drawing you in like a moth to a flame, you found yourself climbing off of the stage as elegantly as possible and taking a step up to the large leather chair he was lounging in. Once you got off, another dancer walked up to the pole to take your place, distracting all the surrounding patrons.

Straddling San’s lap once he picked the bills up, you leaned into his ear to purr, “Sannie, it’s so nice to see you back. I’ve missed you.”

San angled his head up, trying to keep his eyes on your hooded ones instead of staring at your tits that were just below his chin. “I’ve missed you more, Angel.” He reached down to slide a hundred through the strap on your hip, continuing, “I’d like a private show. I have a lot more love to give you.”

Smiling down at the hundred-dollar bill, you sat fully down on his lap, feeling his hard on pressing into your latex panties. “You always give me lots of love, Sannie. Should we go then?”

San slipped the other two hundreds into the other strap, groaning when you dragged your clothed pussy across his length. Biting at his bottom lip, he sent a suggestive smile in your direction. “Lead the way, Angel.”

-

In one of the small dimly lit private rooms, you hovered over San’s lap, your knees pressed into the leather couch on each side of his thighs, gyrating your hips along to the slow, pulsing music. “What’s with that look, baby?” you asked softly, running your hands down the front of San’s chest.

“You’re just so…beautiful.” He couldn’t keep his eyes off of your body, especially your tits, because they were covered in…Was that body glitter? As if you could get any hotter. He was losing his mind.

“Yeah?” you started, watching as the businessman put more cash into the straps of your nylon panties, until there were no more spaces left. “You like me better than your wife, don’t you? Is that why you’re always here and spending money on me instead of her?”

“Mm-hmm, I like you a lot, Angel,” San sighed softly, his hands roaming around the outline of your body, but not touching you.

Arching your back, your hands rested on the top of the couch behind San’s head, slowly moving your body in a slow, but fluid motion on his lap, your cunt brushing across his heavy cock still trapped inside the waistband of his pants. “If you like me so much, then touch me. Fuck me. Make me yours, Sannie.”

-

Entranced. Mesmerized. Seduced. Those were only a few words to describe what came over him while he was inside you, his hands all over your body, getting glitter all over himself. San didn't understand how a single person could have such a hold over him. He never experienced anything like this, and he couldn’t pull himself out of it.

Bouncing up and down on San’s length like it was your life’s mission, you wrapped your fingers around his jaw on either side, bringing his mouth towards your tits. “Suck on them, Sannie. Bite them. Spit on them. Do whatever your wife won’t let you do.”

Completely gone at this point, his cock throbbing heavily inside you, San slurped your tits up into his mouth, one at a time, biting and tugging at your nipple piercings, pulling away every so often to spit on them and watch it drip down your glittery skin. “You’re so dirty, Angel,” he huffed, squeezing your hips tightly, his ring cold against your hot body.

“Not dirty enough,” you complained, in between pants, gripping his shoulders tightly, trying to bring yourself to your peak as fast as possible. “Cum inside me, Sannie. Please.”

“Oh, fuck, Angel, I don’t think…” San gasped, losing his train of thought, as your glossy lips attached to his neck, sucking and licking, leaving a mark on him. He knew he would have to cover it up with makeup later on. “I shouldn’t…”

Tempting him further, you moved your body at a slower, more deliberate pace, wanting to draw the sin out of him. “Cum, baby, come on,” you purred into his ear, nipping and pulling at it with your teeth. “I know she never lets you cum inside, so fill me up instead…Please, Sannie…Please give it to me.”

Truly, you were an angel in every sense of the word, even letting a cheating stranger like him fill you up with his seed. How gracious of you.

“Fuck, okay, I’m–aaah–” San jerked his head back, holding onto your waist for dear life, feeling your cunt tighten around him like a vice. “Jesus, Angel, you're…oh my god.”

“What, Sannie?” you whispered near his lips, bringing yourself down onto him one last time, your body shuddering, your arousal pouring out of you and staining his work pants. “Does it feel better to fuck me than your wife? Is that it?”

“Yeah, it does. So much better.” San looked down at your lower half, his mouth hanging open, a bit of saliva dripping past his lips as his cock shot out rope after rope into your slick hole. He wished he could see it pouring into you, wanting to witness the mark he left inside your body.

You let out a satisfied sigh, lifting yourself up from his lap and collecting the bills he offered you, putting them into a neat stack. “I thought so.” Smirking to yourself, you lifted one leg up onto the couch, allowing San to watch as his load dripped out of your pulsing cunt and down your inner leg. “So, will you be coming back next Friday too, Sannie? I’ll have a new routine ready just for you~”

San simply sat there and watched the milky liquid drip down onto his stained tailored pants, knowing there was no way he’d be able to escape your angelic clutches after this. But he still loved his wife. He did. He really did. He just needed to see you a few more times. After that, he would be done.

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner@dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle 

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© toxicccred, 2023.

[hyunfilms]

blue side of the sky (lmh) | masterlist

“i’m in between the two, standing still & on the run— don’t know what to do, i’m in two places at once. i feel like the moon, trying to stay up for the sun— heart is so confused ‘cause it’s two places at once.”

♡ spotify playlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

—general warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, protected/unprotected sex, mentions of death/accidents, broken relationships, insecurities - additional warnings will be posted for each chapter.

—fic title inspired by sofia carson’s ‘blue side of the sky’ ; song quoted above is 2 places by tori kelly

—release: may ‘23

♡ table of contents ;

one: slowly, but surely

two: thai food for days

three: Sunday Morning

four: princess protector

five: the third wave

six: like a stranger

seven: the losing game

eight: Mars

nine: Pusheen with a lopsided eye

ten: changes

⇢ 10.5: [cloudy days] jisung

eleven: the only way

⇢ 11.5: [cloudy days] minho

twelve: conservatory of flowers

⇢ 12.5: [cloudy days] chan

thirteen: all things astronomical

fourteen: never a linear path

fifteen: everyone but you

⇢ 15.5: [cloudy days] kat

sixteen: deja vu

⇢ 16.5: [cloudy days] uncle adrian

seventeen: kintsugi

⇢ 17.5: [cloudy days] san

eighteen: do you, for you

⇢ 18.5: [cloudy days] seungmin

nineteen: maybe this time

⇢ 19.5: [cloudy days] y/n

twenty: a good team

twenty-one (final): in this moment

[thefrontofmymind]

musician!reader x matty healy ig blurb 3

an: thought i'd give you all a little treat amongst all the chaos. dont think too much about it, its all fun x

part 1 / part 2

glamour Yn talks her new album & upcoming tour in our next issue!

view all comments

ynfan1 obsessed with this shoot

ynfan2 the part of the interview where she talks about how much matty’s inspired her album? I LOVE THEMMMMMM

>ynfan3 MY PARENTS

ynfan4 so excited to see her in charlotte!!!!

yninstagram tour has started. very happy to be back. (and thank you sm Portland!)

view all comments

lucydacus love you baby!

ynfan1 COME TO NEW ZEALAND

ynfan2 saw you tn!! such a good show!!

>yninstagram thank you darling.

yninstagram San Diego. You have my heart.

view all comments

ynfan1 you have mine too yn!

rass1975 cool dude

>yninstagram don’t ‘cool dude’ me ill cool dude you

ynupdates yn tonight in Pheonix: “its great to be back in a sunny place again. I was in Australia not long ago, I even got a bit of a tan [pulls skirt up] see? I’m not translucent anymore!”

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ynfan1 mother serving leg

1975ynfan1 wait she was with the band in australia???? And we didn’t know??

>ynfan2 it makes sense, she went to support matty, and on his birthday as well!

yninstagram break. i have nothing else i promise.

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ynfan1 wait a break from tour or a break from…..something else?

>ynfan2 no because you’re right what does the second sentence mean??

ynfan3 YOU LOOK SO PRETTY

ynfan4 take care of yourself! Get some rest!!!

>ynupdates I’ll try x

ynupdates Met Gala 2023. Thank you Tory Burch for such a beautiful gown.

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ynfan1 so prettyyyyyy!!

ynfan2 omg you liar, you said there was nothing else!

this comment was liked by ynupdates 

1975adam 👍🏻

>ynupdates 👍🏻

>ynfan3 WAIT ADAM COMMENTED MAYBE YN AND MATTY ARENT BROKEN UP THANK FUCK

taylorswifttourupdates Yn came out tonight in Nashville and sang Nothing New with Taylor ❤️

view all comments

ynfan1 AAAAHHH YES

swiftie1 I CANT AKJSADKJFSD

swiftie2 omg my favourite song so sad im not there 🥲🥲

ynfan2 awww our little yn!!!

1975updates Matty was seen at Taylor Swift’s show tonight in Nashville! He was with Yn for most of it, apart from when she was on stage to perform with Taylor

view all comments

1975fan1 the powers of jack antonoff

1975fan2 so he just flew ACROSS THE WORLD to see his girlfriend perform for the first time in a stadium,,,,thats a malewife right there

ynfan1 awww matty was there to support yn!!

swiftie1 taylor/the 1975 collab WHEN??

[punsmaster69]

4/NOV/20XX

[It's Sans' handwriting. It's a bit messy at points, appearing as if the book was on an unsteady surface.]

heya.

been a minute, huh?

a lotta minutes, actually.

about two day's worth of 'em.

papyrus finally ungrounded me from writing.

got my phone back, too.

on the condition that i, uh.

stop setting alarms.

won't go into detail about it.

besides, i gotta talk about 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆, right?

——

really do start a lot of these entries with 'woke up in x place, with x thing'.

....

it's another one like that.

this time, next to tori.

incredibly, i woke up before her.

the blanket over us looks like one of papyrus' spares.

haven't checked the time, but it must be early b——

[The line runs off the side of the page.]

....

hold on, i'm only able to use one hand, and this thing keeps slipping off my lap.

as much as i don't want to, gonna see if i can move my hand without waking her up.

——

[The writing returns to normal.]

ok. good now.

now that my nausea's subsided some, i realize i'm pretty hungry. but..

don't wanna move from this any more.

...

since she's still asleep.

——

"SANS, I-"

"(shh.)"

"(OH, SORRY.)"

"(I'M LEAVING TO TRAIN WITH UNDYNE. ACTUALLY, UNDYNE SAID SHE JUST WANTS TO TALK TODAY.)"

"(WHICH ISN'T TRAINING.)"

"(BESIDES THE POINT. I'M LEAVING, AND MS. TORIEL PROMISED TO TAKE CARE OF YOU TODAY!")

"(i need a babysitter?)"

"(IT'S FOR YOUR SAFETY!!)"

"(YOU WERE... STILL SORT OF WOBBLY, YESTERDAY.)"

"(DO YOU NEED ANYTHING BEFORE I LEAVE?)"

"(nope, i'm good-)"

"(actually. could you hand me what i didn't finish eating last night?)"

"(you don't need to heat it up.)"

"(BUT-)"

"(paps, you should probably go before undyne gets mad at you, too.)"

"(besides, i like cold stew.)"

"(...ALRIGHT. IF YOU SAY SO.)"

after handing me a spoon and my half-bowl of beef stew, papyrus nodded goodbye and dashed out the door.

——

.....

it's real quiet.

not used to being up as early as papyrus usually leaves for.

just me and... sleeping tori.

she must be comfortable.

our couch 𝙞𝙨 pretty nice.

——

couldn't help but wonder who's watching tori's kids, so i messaged frisk.

in response, i got a picture of grillby in tori's kitchen. he's handing flowey something.

at the bottom of the picture was frisk, blurry and way too close to the camera.

"why're you so close"

they then sent a picture of them even closer, equally blurry.

i sent a blurry close-up back.

"Why are YOU so close?"

"yeah"

"Yeah."

"cool"

"Cool."

that kid's going places.

——

"Your influence is rubbing off on me, it seems. I am usually one to be up sooner!"

tori jolted up.

"Ah! I did not mean to keep you in one place this whole time."

"not like i was going anywhere."

i wanted to lean back against her, for some reason.

...

nope.

"What is it that you do all day, when you are stuck inside like this?"

"sleep."

"...I think we have done plenty of that."

"Surely that is not all?"

"me and paps usually play games or something."

"been getting real into this puzzle one."

"do you wanna play something?"

"I am not very good at games..."

"i'll pick somethin' easy."

——

"This is turning out to be quite the house!"

"if you ignore the dirt floor."

"..And the lack of proper opening doors."

"at least we have windows."

"..holes for windows."

"Which one is your room?"

"this one."

"..You have made your walls dirt, as well."

"only the finest of materials in this house."

"Of course."

"here, i made a bed for you."

"Oh! Do we need to sleep in this one? I think we may have missed a few nights."

"nah, it's for setting your respawn point."

"...?"

"when we die, we'll be here instead of really far away."

"I see."

she stared at the bed.

"....."

"It is just the one?"

"mine's in my inventory."

"Please, place it down! Set your, 'respawn point,' in the house with me."

i placed it in the corner of my dirt room.

"....."

she moved hers into there as well.

"........"

"What? Surely you did not expect me to sleep in the living room."

"...side by side?

"The dual bed looks much more comfortable, does it not?"

"i can make you another one, if you want."

"........"

"No."

"This arrangement is good, I think."

"Space efficient!"

"....ok."

——

"Sans."

"yep?"

"Why are there holes everywhere?"

"avoiding death."

"You did not fix them."

"i'll get around to it."

"....."

"Nevermind."

"nevermind?"

"I am tempted to change our living arrangement."

"this poor dog would grow up in a broken home."

"You are its father now too?"

"you're its father?"

"Ha! Sure. Yes, I am the father."

"......"

"WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU EVEN DOING?"

"O-Oh! Papyrus!"

"didn't hear you come in."

"YES, WELL, YOU SEEMED QUITE OCCUPIED WITH.. WHATEVER THIS IS."

"I DIDN'T WANT TO INTERRUPT."

"I'M GOING TO GET CHANGED, AND THEN I'LL BE RIGHT BACK DOWN."

i waited until paps was fully in his room.

then i ran inside, took my bed, and placed it a space away.

tori ran her character up to me (with the default skin) and punched me in my (also-default) face.

"ow."

"It is in the game!"

"would you punch me if you could?"

"No!"

"I would do this."

and she moved her character closer, nearly face-to-face with mine.

struggling to use the hotbar, she eventually threw a flower at me.

silly, sure.

but it..

made me really happy.

....

wish it didn't.

——

"Papyrus is here to watch you now, so.."

"...going home?"

"Unfortunately."

"THANK YOU FOR KEEPING AN EYE ON HIM, MS. TORIEL."

"Of course. It was a pleasure."

"Sans, thank you for playing with me. I had a lot of fun!"

"Even if we did not actually accomplish very much."

"come by anytime you wanna play again."

——

she messaged me to ask if i ended up moving the bed back or not.

....

more space efficient like that, anyway.

[katherinezeetajones]

Valley Debutante

Summary: you are a new kid in town, suddenly embroiled in the world of karate... Your better angels tell you to join miyagi do—knowing the devil rests in cobra kai.

But my oh my... In the devil's den sits Tory Nichols.

And you have never wanted to dance with the devil as badly as you do now.

part one of five

Tory Nichols x female reader, teen and up, swearing, angst, bits of fluff, slow burn

—

'why can't your parents just have you enroll after summer break?' the thought occur to you, sighing wearily as you stuff your books into your new locker. You've been trying—and failing to adjust to your life as a transfer student in San Fernando Valley this whole week—and your peers are surprisingly cliquey about martial arts, which is something you haven't encountered before.

A fist suddenly slams the locker door right next to yours, making you wince. You look to the one doing it...

And it's the most gorgeous girl you've ever laid your eyes on.

Tory Nichols, whom you've only ever seen wandering the hallways when class isn't in motion.

"hey princess, how are you liking it here?" She asks you, her face a teasing smirk as she looks you up and down, settling her gaze on your lips... Whether she realizes it or not, that's what she's doing.

You raise an eyebrow, an honor roll student in the masterclass of being bullied your whole life. So you try to take the high road this time. Juvie is only gonna be breezy once, not so good two time around, turns out shattering your bully's teeth doesn't count as self defense. "It's nice. I find calculus hard,"

Tory scoffs at your response, looking over to her entourage of irritating looking boys with a disbelieving smirk. She looks back at you with an irked expression. "Yeah? Heard you were cozying up to Robby Keene the other day during chemistry. What do you gotta say about that?"

'oh, you're straight,' you thought to yourself, slumping your shoulder ever so slightly, in unearned disappointment. "There was no cozying up," you explain, much to her disbelief.

"then what was that?" She asks, leaning closer against you, trying to intimidate you.

You shrug. "Look, I'll be frank with you. I'm sorry if he's your boyfriend or something, but there was nothing going on. He was being helpful, that's all,"

She doesn't seem to buy it. Her face leans in closer to yours in the packed hallway, to no one's care. "Am I just supposed to believe that?" She sneers, her canines glinting in attempt to appear menacing.

You sigh, the closeness between you two not helping your newly developed crush on this girl you don't even share any classes with up to this point. "He's not my type, I'm... I'm gay,"

'fuck it, right? Why beat around the bush?'

You expect two reactions. One is of disgust, where she will back away and leave you alone or two; she will not believe you at all, and you get pummeled by the local bully.

But you didn't expect reaction three.

She backs off you slowly, with a soft "oh," under her breath. "Sorry," she mutters quietly, almost begrudgingly... Yet with the tenderness you don't expect from a girl of her archetype.

"it's okay," you shrug it off, and you exchange a split second of a charged eye contact with her...

...but before she could say anything in response, the school bell rings.

She looks at you with a troubled expression, wordlessly walking away to class.

Her entourage follows her, but one of them hangs back, sizing you up without any malice. He fishes out a crumpled piece of paper from his bag, handing it to you. "Pick a side, new girl."

You take the paper, and he walks away after Tory. You unfurl the paper, and it reads;

"JOIN COBRA KAI"

"STRIKE FIRST, STRIKE HARD, NO MERCY."

You wordlessly pocket the flyer, making your way to class.

—

One week later...

It finally happened. You finally share a class with Tory Nichols—PE.

She's hanging out with the Cobra Kai kids in the bleachers of the gym, talking animatedly with them, like a leader of the pack.

Her eyes land on you after wandering around the gym, and you wave her a hello, with a small smile.

She ignores it, of course. But being observant as you are, you also notice the amusement on her face, only there for a split second.

Your classmate and new friend Sarah nudges you with a disbelieving laugh, as you both get settled on the other side of the gym. "What the hell are you doing?"

You shrug. "Waving hi,"

"to Tory?" Sarah mutters in dismay. "You know she's like, the bad bitch of the school, right?"

"bad bitch isn't a bad thing," you argue.

Sarah narrows her eyes, unconvinced. "Yeah, no, when I said bad bitch, I mean she's a bad bitch, literally—she bullied the LaRusso kid to the next eon or something!"

'what is this, elementary school gossip?'

You don't believe Sarah. The Tory you met last week was, yes, rough around the edges; but there's a tenderness to her countenance that you don't really believe could bully someone to that extent. "Isn't that, like, the Cobra Kai thing?"

"yeah, Cobra Kai is bad bad, but also, Tory is a big bully; so it's better to just stay away from her and Cobra Kai in general," Sarah explains. You want to believe her, you do.

But you flit your eyes to Tory and her entourage in the other side of the gym, and you lock eyes with Tory yet again...

...and you may be imagining things, but you could've sworn her gaze softens as she looks at you.

But then she looks away.

Your attention is grabbed by the coach's whistle, echoing its brittle note around the gym as he passes the dodgeball to the biggest, meanest looking kid of them all.

You sigh wearily, standing up on your feet.

'Let the game begin.'

—

You rub the back of your thighs, red and sore from getting hit by the dodgeball. The class ended ten minutes ago, yet your heart is still pounding out of your chest from all the dodging you have to do—and you got off slightly worse than the others.

Your knuckles are bleeding, your left cheek is bruised; and somehow your toes are also on fire?

You sigh wearily as you grab your change of clothes from the gym locker, searching for any kind of ointment in there.

You didn't notice, but Tory is next to you, apprehensively offering you a tube of ointment without saying a word.

"oh, thank you!" Your eyes widen as you thank her. You take the ointment from her hand... your fingers brushing with hers, making her pull away abruptly.

Tory looks at your genuine expression of gratitude, shrugging. "It's just my old one. Dodgeballs in this school is brutal, so you gotta be prepared, princess."

You don't hate that nickname.

"thank you," you smile at her, clutching the rolled up tube of ointment as if it's your panacea. "Don't suppose you have an ice pack, too?"

Tory scoffs, amused. "You're out of luck,"

"ah well," you sigh dramatically. "Guess this'll have to do," you brandish the ointment she gave you gratefully.

You squeeze the contents out of the tube, rubbing the gel all over your sore spots, making you sigh as the cold sensation momentarily relieves you from the soreness.

Tory is still standing next to you, her face troubled.

"...yeah?" You ask her overstay on your side, and she looks at you, lost.

"why'd you do it?" She finally asks.

"do what?" You ask back, confused.

Tory groans under her breath. "Used yourself as a human shield earlier. During dodgeball,"

You raised your eyebrows, still rubbing the ointment on the back of your thighs. "Well, the kid's just a freshman—he was like, what, 4'5?"

"you don't even know anyone here," Tory said in disbelief. "Yet you did that,"

You stand up to your full height, shrugging. "I mean, it's just... Right, I guess?"

Tory scoffs in amusement, crossing her arms. "So you're a goody two shoe,"

You smile at her, shaking your head. "You did call me princess. Gotta live up to the name,"

You close up the tube, giving it back to her. Tory takes it, and you nod gratefully. You're about to leave the now-empty locker room, turning on your heels—but she stops you, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

"wait," she mutters, almost too quiet to hear.

"yeah?"

"...Why did you tell me you're gay?" She asks, that seemingly being the thing that troubles her.

You smile at her with a shrug. "Honestly, I just didn't want to get beat up. You look like you could kill me,"

She looks at you, disbelieving. "So it's a lie,"

You shake your head. "No, I'm gay. I just don't want to beat around the bush, so I just told you,"

"even though I'm a complete stranger? What if I out you to the whole school?" She asks, astonished.

"but you didn't. Plus, I'm not really in the closet," you recount the facts, shrugging.

"I'm not your friend, princess. You can't go around telling strangers your identity,"

"we're friends now. You lent me your ointment," you decide, matter-of-factly.

She involuntarily let out a chortle, which she covers up with an almost bitchy flick of the fringe. "If you say so,"

You walk out of the locker room not long after, not realizing Tory is still watching you, with a newfound sense of amusement about you.

—

One week later...

Summer break is really, really near. You wish it would come sooner, as you get antsy about this whole turf war between Cobra Kai and Miyagi-do, like a volcano that's about to erupt without giving anyone within a 30 mile radius any warning.

You're doing your new part time job as a smoothie barista at the mall, and you don't hate it. Bored without anyone walking in, you decide to go to the backroom to sort out inventory, a task you've been putting off for a while.

"Suzy, you mind covering my part behind the counter? I'm gonna do the inventory," you tell your middle aged co-worker of your task, which she waves off without giving a care in the world.

Nodding, you get into the backroom to get sorting.

—

Not even twenty minutes in, you begin hearing ruckus outside. You have half the heart to just stay inside, let whatever's going on out there blow over and then go out...

...but your better angels tell you to go outside and check. You have a middle aged co-worker, for crying out loud! It could get dangerous for them!

So out you go...

...and not even to your surprise, your peers from the two dojos are having a near-brawl in the middle of the mall, the air charged with tension around them.

You sigh. "This again?" You address Suzy, busy blending a smoothie in the juicer.

She shrugs. "kids gotta have hobbies. I guess the valley just need to deal with it,"

You look over the brawl's direction, not even realizing that your eyes are scanning for Tory—but she's not there. Should you be relieved or disappointed?

"you look disappointed," Suzy points out the obvious.

"I was just looking for someone," you shrug, trying to get back to work, despite the brawl going to happen.

A stray empty can cup whizz past you, knocking down the cardboard standee of the place you work in.

"guessing it's too early to clock out?" You ask Suzy, who only gives you a shrug.

The brawl is happening, going all out. Your peers from both dojos are pummelling each other with kicks and punches—all impressive, really, if you don't have a part time job to do; and if they're not knocking down everything they see in their path with their roundhouse kicks.

"shouldn't we call security or something?" You ask Suzy again, who doesn't give you any answer other than incomprehensible grunting.

The brawl makes their way into the smoothie bar, where you try—and fail; to defend the juicers' honors.

Everything gets knocked down, torn to pieces, shattered, and you try to stay away, backing yourself into a corner where they can't possibly get you.

...until a stray fist connects with your jaw, making you stagger backwards... And falling down on the fake grass of the smoothie bar isn't fun.

"are you okay?" An outstretched hand appears in your vision, amidst the blurriness of everything else after being socked in the face.

You take the hand, gingerly getting up. "I think so... I'm a bit dizzy from getting decked in the face,"

The voice laughs. Everything comes into focus, and the one helping you stand is none other than Tory... In a Dim Sum Express uniform. Still gorgeous. "Tory," you mutter, still groggy.

She laughs, not letting go of your sides until you seem fully aware. "Not used to being punched?"

"this is my first time, actually,"

"welcome to San Fernando Valley, princess." Tory fixes you an amused look, a small smile on her lips. "Now you gotta pick a side."

Before you can answer, a flock of security guards and cops file into the mall, breaking the brawl apart.

'Saved by the bell.'

...until they decided to handcuff you and Tory, too.

—

To be continued