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thecosmicsen · 3 years

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✮ ┆ D-6 COUNTDOWN TO INÉS’ BIRTHDAY WITH @shesin

he stares down at the muted twinkling of the metal band situated on his ring finger, thumbing idly at the glimmers that catch the cosy dim lights of the bar. the incandescence of fidelity. once the lustre used to spark a slew of comforting warm trickles of utmost bliss that would curl his toes from the simple happiness he would gain from observing the proof of his lifelong ardent dedication to the one woman who he truly loves with all his aching heart. but now he cannot say the same anymore as the dreamy euphoria has now dissolved into a slush of bitter resentment of what he perceives to be the worst betrayal to their adoringly spoken vows.

another sip of his bourbon on the rocks is an unconscious reminiscence to what his treacherous love enjoys indulging herself for a choice of drink. there is some woman perched besides him on one of the stools at the bar but he hasn’t taken a glimpse of her face yet despite the fact that she is relentless with her pitiful attempts of sultry engagement. you’re not Inés. you never could nor ever will be her. she is on a different level to you all. please shut the fuck up.

he continues to thumb and thumb at his ring, his eyes flitting half-closed as he sharply inhales the aromatic scents of the bourbon. it all reminds him of her. no matter what he fanatically throws himself into to at least get out of his mind for a few minutes, her presence refuses to leave. she has leeched her roots and implanted them far too deep in his heart that all he can do is sit at this bar, close his eyes, take in the earthy warm scents of vanilla and butterscotch that tugs on the strings of his heart with a gory twist of resentment that oozes out all his incubated hate towards her. what have you done to me ? she has made sure that all his mental fixation remains solely on her and only her. it drives him insane, his knuckles whitening as his grip tightens fiercely around his glass, teeth gritting in nostalgic agitation as the fog of Inés Inés Inés wholly engulfs his system. this is the drink she likes take in that one crystallised whiskey tumbler she sets aside for the times they relax together in the bath together with. these are the honeyed hints of what tastes off her skin with such tantalising allure. this is all Inés Inés Inés.

“ what is she like ? ” is the one question from the incessant woman sitting next to him that pierces through his whimsical despise-tinged recollections of the woman who has destroyed him worse than any of his family members did to him. he will make her pay for it, that is for certain. if she thinks she can shovel out his presence in her life, she is about to become sorely disappointed. he has always told her this before, he is here to stay by her side and never leave.

without any disruption to his spiteful revenge fantasies that begin to manifest in a lustful storm of appeasement, his gaze remains on the ever glimmering wedding ring band on his finger and how painstakingly perfect it naturally looks to be placed there. another excruciating stab to his heart elicits an imperceptible flinch from him as he wonders what she did with her wedding ring yet.

“ she is unlike any other, ” he smugly narrates to the ever curious female although the metallic tang of blood pools in his mouth as he bites down on his tongue in vicious spite to be admitting such a thing. “ a fucking nightmare. a daydream. all the clichés of that paradox can be applied to her. she is someone you aspire to be but you know that you will never even be able to glimpse the unreachable level she is at. she can make you feel like you don’t mean shit to her but you will try your best to appeal to her with your redeeming qualities anyway. she creates a new set of conduct and morals in you. she isn’t untouchable though. she is here. she is present. everyone follows her on social media. I can reach out to her. I can touch her if she wants it. but she is a demon and makes no attempt to hide it. she will rub your face into dirt and then make you lick it clean off her shoes. you will have the illusion that you managed to secure her emotional intimacy and trust for you that you begin to think that you know the emotions surfacing to her eyes. when she is deep in thoughts, calculating and observing you, you won’t be able to stop staring at her lips. she has a habit of licking over her teeth and folding her arms when she is examining you — taking amusement from whatever you said or did. over time, if she lets you, you will get to know all her quirks. believe that you got touch and gently bring out her emotionally attuned functions. but in the end, you forget that she is a demon. she hunts prey for fun. she will get countries starting world war three over her just because she feels a little bored and wants to purposefully start shit as long as it doesn’t affect her wealth and assets too much. lures you in with a false sense of security. brings along her demon boytoy because she doesn’t know how to commit to the one person who is willing to accept every part of her. she is smart. she knows how to play her games. she is a menace to the fabric of society by doing whatever the fuck she wants without any consequences. ”

willing himself to take another deep breath, the action merely comforting and placebo from the mere habit of doing so, he takes another sip of his bourbon with a forlorn sigh mingling with an uttered groan of annoyance. a twisted smile upturns the corners of his lips, his heart dropping to his stomach as he whispers out, a few syllables cracking under his distressed state of mind. “ but what do you do when you find out that this demon also gave birth to two of your baby boys who are the most beautiful ones to ever exist ? this woman who lives to hurt managed to mother my children with so much love. where is her love ? I can’t see it for me. I can see it in our beautiful baby’s eyes that light up when they see their mother. I can see it lining their bodies with their fat rolls. how they wiggle in happiness when she comes into their view. she loves them but she doesn’t love me. is it so wrong of me for wanting to spend time with my own boys ? she drives me insane . . . I love her and I fucking hate her with my entire heart. she is the only one who owns me and is allowed to have me. Min Inhye. that is who she is. the love of my life. the mother of my children. my fucking downfall. ”

he spits out the last few words with utmost venom before he aggressively chugs down the rest of his bourbon, the liquid scorching his already parched throat in the process but he pays no mind to it. slamming the glass back down on the counter, he glances down at his ring once again. something stirs within him, a pathetic sense of all I want is her and to take me back. but now she has his sworn enemy by her side now and that is something he cannot allow. he will not lose this fight. his heart craves for respite and reconciliation. is it really too late to hope for that still ? but he remembers how she gave birth to their gorgeous baby boys all on her own, already damning their life without a stable father figure that he knows he can be. he remembers how she has so cruelly parted him from his own children without a single word of his say in this matter. he remembers how she had the nerve to attempt to talk him down the moment he witnessed with his own eyes with how that fucking demon boytoy of hers just casually strolled in her living room to start playing with his babies. the babies that are supposed to be carrying down the Ahn family name. his baby boys, the ones he always dreamt about having when the blood was still flowing through his veins. she took it all away from him.

he yanks the wedding ring off.

finally, he looks up to observe the face of the woman who provoked his bitter tangent about Inés. you don’t look like Inés. he eyes her distastefully from head to toe, his mind automatically distinguishing her with repulsion on all the points that separate her likeliness to Inés. no, he needs someone like her. it will make it easier for him. after all, why should he fuck someone who is five foot three with fried split ends ? he gives a curt dismissal of disinterest before moving on. it has to be someone like Inés with the same gorgeous raven locks, the amber hues of her eyes, the tapered ends of her canines, the proud impressive lifted back slope of her shoulders, the legs that go on for days . . .

where is she ?

#I'm....... so sorry #I just love how I start this off with hella angst #also for those who may be reading #THIS IS NOT MAIN VERSE JAEWOO #pls disregard this .#this is an angst verse I made up exclusively with Nas and uhh yeah #he isn't like this cRIES #haha anyway happy early birthday Inés!! :))#shesin #* : ✮ ┆ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑎𝑟𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑦 (𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠).#tw // infidelity

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stripestheboar · 7 years

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Why Him?

@bublp0pr, my boy. My beautiful bouncing baby boy. You are an absolute saint for being as patient as you are. Thank you for sticking around through all my shit. Hopefully you enjoy this.

It took a bit of planning, but it’s finally finished. The ultimate crackship. My boy..... enjoy.

Word Count: 4,257

Summary: Flowey finally discovers someone who can make him feel something for the first time since his creation. However, it may not be all that he was hoping for.

Flowey considered himself a being higher than all others. With his gift to turn back the clock, he didn’t see a reason why he wasn’t. After all, he was practically immortal, wasn’t he? Why should he be considered as low as them if there was no way to truly be defeated.

Okay, well, there was Sans, but we’re just going to pretend he doesn’t exist at the moment.

Undyne, is another, but for now, she’s non-existent as well.

Oh yeah, and Frisk, but we can just throw them into the non-existent pile, too.

Also Asgore, but that’s only because- okay, we’re getting off track here. All that you need to know is that Flowey is a hard ass.

Anyways, Flowey was the self-declared most powerful monster in the Underground, and all due to his lack of an actual soul, thus leading to a lack of compassion for most of the monsters in the Underground. Even when Frisk brought him up aboveground, he still found himself lacking any real joy or excitement for the time. His pessimism had him convinced that any minute Frisk would decide to go back on their word and screw the entire world over with another reset. Any semblance of joy that he felt was short, shallow, and almost artificial, just like every other “emotion” that happened to slip past. Even when it was becoming increasingly apparent that he wasn’t going to change his ways anytime soon, everyone was still so adamant over sticking by his side no matter what. It was frustrating, really, just to see all these monsters with better lives and more potential waste their time on him. It almost made him physically ill just to experience it. Even Sans refused to give up on him, and he had practically given up on himself already. But just because Flowey was annoyed with it didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it. He had promised to stop his torment of others, after all, and when Frisk was involved, he just didn’t seem to have the will to break it. He just wanted to see how everything would play out. Yeah, that’s why. The only one he knew would truly understand what should be done in these types of hopeless situations was Chara, but she couldn’t exactly speak as of now.

However, like with most rules or laws of the universe, there is somehow an exception to everything. It took nearly a year after the Pacifist End to get to that exception, but it eventually came. No resets had come, and now he was faced with a factor he hadn’t expected to see ever in his lifetime.

When Flowey had first seen him in the Underground all that time ago, there had only been a passing glance. No torture had really been involved, as usual, as this monster in particular was a naturally passive, but had the negative trait of being rather… unbearable. Despite that, after each and every time he loaded a save file, he could feel something begin to bloom inside him. He couldn’t describe it, as he just didn’t know what it was. But, with time, he soon discovered that this feeling was much unlike the spite and malice he held towards most, but instead like the feeling he had whenever he had been around Chara, the only person he had really felt a connection to. And yet, there he was, unable to help the sense of a true bond forming between himself and this… thing. He hated him with every fiber of his small being, and yet this monster was somehow able to make his soulless being melt at a simple glance and smile in everything he did. It infuriated him to no end to not know why he held such an attraction to this monster. He hated everything about him, but at the same time wanted everything to do with him. This monster was like no other. He made Flowey feel a happiness or joy he hadn’t fathomed in years. He made him feel a sort of compassion; it was love, even. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt love for this crude monster. He was the one that could bring Flowey into happiness, and yet they didn’t even know each other. He was short, a bit on the wider side, and did nothing but laze around and complain. He was perfect. He was amazing. He was everything Flowey needed to feel complete. He was his soulmate.

He was Jerry.

Now, Flowey knew just how repulsive this urchin was; almost no one could bear to stand him. However, he found himself unable to bear his attraction as time went on, the feeling of spiritual need for this monster in order to make him feel something was undeniable. And so, it was decided: one simple meet up couldn’t hurt, right? After all, Jerry must’ve been a lonely monster. He should be bowing and kissing his roots for even allowing him to spend time with him.

Guilt struck Flowey at that moment, one of the biggest downsides to this whole ordeal. Even thinking bad of this monster made him regret ever thinking of it in the first place. It was torturous, really, but he was convinced that a simple date with Jerry would cause those wretched emotions to subside some.

And who knew? Maybe it would all be worth it in the end.

Fourteen months to the day of their ascent up to the surface, Flowey finally decided that it was either do it or live a life craving love and affection he could never get. He had found Jerry at an internet café, idly clicking things on the computer while occasionally glancing down at his phone with a bored look. He didn’t even seem to notice when a small flower broke through the floorboards next to him and cleared his voice.

“Howdy, Jerry,” Flowey began, catching the monster’s attention. The slightly bigger monster turned in his chair, breathing heavily as he looked down at the flower. “You may not know me… you may not even bother to care who I am. But, I know you.” He looked down at the ground, taking in a large breath. “I’ve been watching you, as creepy as that may sound. And I, well…. I have this strange feeling for you. A feeling that I can’t tell just really what it is or what it means, but it makes me feel… complete, you know? It may be hard for you to understand, but I just chance, you know? So… I can’t believe I’m saying this but, will you go on a date with me?”

He closed his eyes, the fear of rejection rising up within him. Actual, genuine fear rushed through his stem and his roots, not wanting to be denied the chance to be happy again. The feeling was almost euphoric, really, but he didn’t know what he would do if he was turned down.

He sat there, the silence only staged off by the various humans and monsters typing up on their computers. Jerry said nothing, and Flowey feared that this would be his end. He didn’t want his chances to end here, mere days after he had gotten his first taste of love and joy in years. The fear continued to well up as Jerry said nothing, but he couldn’t bear to look up at the small monster. All these years of being alone with only himself to relate to had left him hungering for any type of emotion, but for the first time, heartbreak was what terrified him the most. He was scared.

The seconds ticked by. Jerry continued to keep silent, only increasing the tenseness within Flowey’s roots. He didn’t know what the monster was thinking, but at this point, he was dying for any small bit of closure. So, with an inhale, he forced himself to look up.

Jerry wasn’t even looking at him. He was on his phone, typing away at something while Flowey sat there dumbfounded. ‘What the hell?’ he thought to himself. ‘Had this buffoon even heard a word of what I said?’

“Hey!”

Jerry blinked and looked down in confusion. “Huh?” he mumbled, his voice annoyingly nasally as he took his eyes off his phone for those few rare moments. “You. Me. Date!” Flowey demanded, making it as simple as possible. Jerry merely wiped his nose. “Does your house have Wi-Fi?” he asked, glancing at his computer. “Yes! Yes my house has more Wi-Fi than you can shove up your fat litt- ahem.” Flowey closed his eyes and cleared his voice. “Yes, my house has Wi-Fi. I’ll even give you the password. Just one date is all I ask. How’s that?”

“Sure. Whatever,” Jerry shrugged, logging off of his computer and getting off his chair. “Where are we going? Hopefully not somewhere lame.” Flowey felt something die inside of him as he realized this may have been the biggest mistake of his life.

“Well, yes, I had an idea,” the flower offered. “How about to my house? We can get to know each other more before we go on our first date.” Jerry just shook his head. “Nah, I have a better idea. Let’s go out to Mettaton’s Burger Emporium. I’m pretty hungry right now.” Flowey’s smile faded some at the thought of going to such a costly fast food place right now, but he just sucked it up, replaced the dull expression with a fresh smile, and gestured to the door. “This way, then. It’s just a few blocks away, so we can talk while we-“

“Wait. You want me to walk all the way there?” Jerry interrupted, his already fat lips sticking out some like a duck’s bill. Flowey blinked in confusion, not exactly expecting that response. “Well… yeah. That’s okay, right? I mean, it’s just a short walk. It’s not like you’ll-“

“You didn’t even bring a car?” Jerry scoffed.

“I… I can’t drive. I’m a flower,” Flowey said slowly. However, he knew he had to fix this. If not, Jerry would surely reject him here and now. “Well, I can get us a ride! In fact, I know someone who knows a shortcut there!” He quickly pulled out the phone Toriel had gotten him for his birthday, quickly finding Sans’ number. As much as he hated that trash bag, he needed to salvage this already disastrous meet up. Jerry just sighed and got back onto the computer. “Make it quick, dude.”

Once the skeleton’s number was found, Flowey was quick to call him. After a few rings, Sans answered, which was a surprise. He usually just ignored the phone calls altogether.

“Hey,” Sans greeted in his usual slow drawl. “Watchya need, weed?” It took every ounce of strength not to berate Sans right there in the middle of the café. “Tra- Sans, I need a lift to Mettaton’s burger place.” He heard the other’s signature stunted chuckle of the other on. “Heh. Alright then. But it’s gonna cost ya.” Flowey grimaced, his inventory already empty of any G that he didn’t want to spend on their food. Glamburgers were expensive, after all. “I don’t have any money,” he growled, making sure his voice was low so he didn’t discourage Jerry fully. “It doesn’t cost much. Just a simple ‘please’ is all I need. Oh, and add a ‘Sans is the ultimate punmaster’ at the end there for good measure” The plant’s reaction was immediate. “What?” he hissed. “C’mon, Sans. Cut me a break!” “Oh it’s just a few words,” Sans mocked. “Flower you going to survive?” Flowey felt his patience thinning. “Sans, just pick me up now!” he spat, only to be met with the sound of crinkling tin foil on the other side. “Oh no, I think our phone connection is dying,” Sans said in mock anguish, squeezing the crumpled up tin more on his side of the call.

“God damn it, fine! Please pick me up and you’re the ultimate punmaster!” Flowey exploded, seething in anger due to his already short temper.

“Heh, alright. I’m convinced.”

The call was soon dropped, and within seconds, Sans entered the café, his grin cockier than usual. “Alright, weed, let’s get a move on. Tori’s making pie. I wanna be at her place before it gets cold.” He looked around, his vision skirting around Jerry. “So, who’s your ‘friend’? It’s not the Ice Cap, is it? Those things really need to learn to chill. Heh.” Flowey gave an annoyed sigh and gestured to his date. “It’s Jerry.” Jerry just gave a wave from his computer, still focused on Undernet. The tops of the skeleton’s sockets raised some, but he gave a slow nod. “Him? Alright then. C’mon Jerry.”

Jerry merely grunted as he continued to search on his computer. Flowey sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Jerry! Now!” he demanded, making the monster sigh and get down from his chair, waddling over to Sans and wrapping a small, thin hand around Sans’ thickly-boned one. It was clear from the skeleton’s expression that he had only now realized just how greasy Jerry’s hands were. He seemed to grimace, his actual permanent grin not fading as he quickly bent down to pick up Flowey. The flower dislodged his roots from the cracked surface of the wooden floor and latched around Sans’ arm. And with that, they walked out.

They soon found themselves in front of the fast food place. The moment Sans was able to shake Jerry off of his hand, he wiped his carpals all over his jacket to get the grease off. He set Flowey down, who quickly planted himself down in a nearby potted plant. “I should need you in about an hour or so. Stand by your phone, okay?” Flowey told him, only to get a chuckle in response. “Heh, sure thing. A ‘thank you’ would be nice, y’know. Well, enjoy your… whatever.” Sans spun on his heel and promptly walked off.

The two walked inside the cooled restaurant, the smell of greasy Glamburgers and fruity Starfait hitting them instantly. Flowey didn’t need to eat magical foods, but he definitely could, so he thought that just downing one small meal wouldn’t be so bad. They got into line, Flowey latching into Jerry’s arm so he didn’t have to keep breaking the floorboards and having to make Toriel pay for damages. Jerry didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he didn’t even seem to notice, just texting on his phone. Flowey was the more disturbed one, really, as he could feel his roots beginning to soak up the oily substances and sweat that just seemed to coat Jerry’s entire body. If he had a gag reflex, it would definitely have been triggered by now.

The line shortened fairly quickly, and by the time it was their turn, Jerry was still on his phone, texting away. A quick nudge from Flowey caught his attention, and he looked up at Burgerpants, who watched him with a twitching, forced grin. “Welcome to MTT’s Burger Emporium!” he forced out in phony enthusiasm and excitement. “What can I get for you two?” Flowey looked over at Jerry, giving him a polite smile. “How about you order first, huh?” Jerry just nodded and looked up at the menu. “I would like uhhhhhhh……” He gazed dumbly up at the words displayed on the screen, a small hand placed under his fat chin as he thought of what to order. “Give me… hmm… well…….. can you give me uhhhh….. no…. well, I want a….”

This went on for a good minute before Burgerpants forcefully turned his attention to the flower. “I’ll give him a minute. And what would you like little buddy?”

“I wanna fucking die,” Flowey sighed. The cat monster just sighed and nodded in agreement. “Same.” He pulled out a flask, unscrewing it and takin a quick swig of its contents. “Same.”

So, Flowey ordered a Starfait, deciding to just have something to keep the poor man busy as Jerry continued to stare like a buffoon up at screen. Finally, his date ordered three Glamburgers, and two orders of Fab Fries, telling Burgerpants to leave off he salt because he was watching his weight. He was somehow oblivious to the truck loads of irony. Once their order was served, Jerry got pissy when he realized that his Glamburger had cheese on it, something he had allegedly ordered to leave off because he was lactose intolerant. Burgerpant disputed the fact that he had said this, only making it worse for him. When he tried to tell Jerry that it was all magic food anyways and the cheese wouldn’t even have any affect off his body, he was ordered to make it again. Flowey, all the while, was just sulking by himself.

“That’ll be five-hundred G,” Burgerpants sighed, his expression twisted into one of anguished impatience as he eyed the angry mob of hungry customers behind Jerry. However, he wasn’t getting out that easy.

Flowey took out the needed G and handed it over, watching the cashier subtract the money from the total. He glanced at his date, who blinked and glanced back, not paying for his food. Flowey furrowed the little brow he had. “Well? Aren’t you going to pay?” Jerry gave him an annoyed look. “Pay? I don’t have any money.”

Flowey wilted over and sighed in defeat.

A bit of digging around for G and a bit of convincing Burgerpants was what it took for their tab to be paid off. Flowey was drained of money as they took their food and walked away, ignoring the mob that soon overwhelmed the poor cashier.

That entire transaction had taken thirty minutes.

Ha, just kidding.

It was an hour.

Finally, they were sat down at a table, and Flowey was ready to drink a gallon of weed killer to end it all. Still, all he needed to do was look up at Jerry to find hope rising back up inside him, urging him to not give up and continue forth. Still, he couldn’t help but stare as Jerry was gobbling down his meal, picking up each individual fry and stuffing his mouth with it. And then, after each fry, he would stick out his tongue to slowly lick up each of his stubby fingers to lick off the grease and crumbs, his surprisingly long tongue working between each and every crack and crevice, before he would eat another fry and start the cycle over again. It was so disgusting, and yet so… beautiful.

God, kill him now.

This must be some prank. It had to be. It was a prank from Chara. This was some giant middle finger to him from the grave, as one last “fuck you” just to mess with him.

And it was almost like a blessing.

He mentally slapped himself. No, no it wasn’t.

So just watched Jerry, absolutely disgusted, and yet unable to tear his gaze away in fear it would be disgracing his love.

“You gonna eat that?” Jerry grunted, gesturing to the Starfait. Flowey blinked and looked at it, only having remembered it just now. Well, it did sound pretty tasty…

“You can have it,” he sighed, pushing it over. Damn it, Flowey. Jerry didn’t say anything more as he took the cup and downed it without a second thought, making weird slurping noises and he poured it all down his gullet. After he was done, he smacked his lips noisily and ate the rest of his food. This was what love looks like. This was the perfect monster.

“Alright, so to your place?” Jerry asked, pulling out his phone to type something with his wet, still greasy fingers. “Yeah! Sure thing!” Flowey said, uncharacteristically enthusiastic, pulling out his phone and calling Sans again. It didn’t take as much prodding as it did last time to get him to come. Once again, Sans sauntered through the doorway and forced himself to grab Jerry’s hand, wincing at how wet his palms felt. Flowey grabbed onto him as well, almost wanting to apologize to him.

In no time, they were at Toriel’s home, where the boss monster lived with Flowey and Frisk. Upon entering, Sans was quick to shake Jerry off and wipe his hand off on his jacket. “Sans? Is that you?” they heard from the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked pie hitting their senses. This seemed to attract Jerry the most, because to Flowey’s horror, the small monster immediately waddled over to the kitchen to grab a slice. Needless to say, Toriel wasn’t expecting to see him come over with a hand out expectantly.

“Oh, you must be Jerry,” Toriel hummed. “I’ve… heard about you. What are you doing here, dear? Did Flowey bring you here?”

“What’s that?” Jerry instead asked, pointing to the pie he could just barely see over the high counter. “Oh, er, that’s pie, dear,” she told him politely, folding her hands at her front. “It’s already cooled down and ready to eat. My child, Frisk, and I already had a piece, and I was just about to cut Sans one. Would you like a slice?” She reached for the pie cutter, but she wouldn’t need it. Jerry was way ahead of her.

Sans and Flowey walked in just in time to see Jerry stick his hand into the part of the pie tin that had a slice already removed, sliding his fingers under the crust and removing a large chunk of the dessert. He immediately began gobbling it down bear-handed, once again licking his fingers once he was done. He waddled back over to Sans, who just stared at him with that grin frozen over his face. Toriel didn’t even look like she believed what she had just witnessed.

“Okay… not gonna lie. That was probably the most disgusting think I’ve ever seen,” Sans stated bluntly, watching Jerry skitter over to the pantry to raid it for chips and snack, before going over to the TV with his chips to watch something entertaining with his wet hands all over the remote. Flowey slowly looked up at Sans. “I’ll give you five G to pour a bucket of weed killer onto me,” he offered. “Make it fifty G and you’ve got a deal,” Sans sighed, walking in the other direction. Toriel looked as though she was about to offer him some pie, but stopped when Jerry came back over and carved out another piece with his greasy hands. Flowey really hand no choice but to detach himself from Sans and latch onto Jerry again, forced to hear the monster’s heaving breathing as he shoved potato chips into his mouth and licked his lips of any salt and crumbs. Oh god, how he wanted that tongue to lather against his petals and-

Okay, okay, hold on just a minute.

Flowey stared wide-eyed straight ahead, bewildered at his own thought. This had to be the work of Chara. No god was evil enough to bestow this curse upon him. It just wasn’t right, even for him. He looked up at the ceiling, wanting to cry and scream at the same time. “Of all people, Chara,” he hissed to himself, feeling tears enter his eyes. “Finally. Finally someone makes me feel something again. And it has to be Jerry?” He closed his eyes, bowing his head. “This is your fault, isn’t it? Even in death you can’t stop playing jokes on me and making life hell. What? Is this payback for back then? Ha. Ha. Very funny. Bet you feel real proud of yourself right now.”

“Yo, can you shut up?” Jerry commented to him. “You’re talking over the show.”

God, why did someone so repulsive have to be so beautiful?

Toriel didn’t bother them again. Flowey sat there in a sort of limbo state, listening to Jerry noisily smack on his chips. Eventually, it grew dark, and Jerry got bored of their channels. He got up, a mess of crumbs and crumpled up chip packages spilling onto the floor. “So, like, this whole date was pretty lame,” Jerry shrugged, yanking Flowey off. “But, you guys got good Wi-Fi and lots of snacks. So, like, how about a second date? Tomorrow?”

No. No. No no no no no, for the love of all things sacred, no. He couldn’t bear another day. He just couldn’t.

“Sure!” he said cheerily. “I’ll pick you up at two?” Mother. Fucker.

Jerry gave a nod. “Sure, whatever. I might be asleep, though, so just wait outside for me until I wake up, okay?” He looked out the window. “Ugh, I don’t wanna take the bus home. Can I sleep over?”

“Yeah, of course you-“ Flowey’s acceptance was cut short as Toriel soon walked up to the two, grabbed Jerry by the giant lump protruding from his head, and promptly went to the door, throwing him out without hesitation and slamming the door, locking it. Ignoring the pawing she heard at her door, she walked over to her son, gingerly picking him up in her arms. Flowey wasted no time in leaning against her bosom, his eyes wide as he realized what he had just done. He had a second date tomorrow.

He had a second date tomorrow with Jerry.

“Shh… there there,” Toriel whispered to him, listening to her son burst into tears. He knew now there was no hell, as nothing could ever be more wretched than this.

God, why did he have to end up with someone so lovable and amazing?

#Flowey #Jerry #Crackship #Undertale #love #humor

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apsbicepstraining · 6 years

Text

Am I Shallow For Disliking That My Boyfriend Is Fat? Ask A Pro

Dead Head Pro,

Fully understanding how shallow I am going to sound, I’ll descent right in.

I “ve never” dated a fat person, until 6 months ago. My lover is not obese but “he il be” undeniably fat. Although I think he has put on some weight, he was already overweight when we started dating.

I have a nice torso, am very physically active, and desire to share that life-style with my lover. I hoped that my speciman would motivate my lover to get into determine. Even though it is has gone him to talk about it, he still hasn’t taken specific actions. It doesn’t repulse me that he’s fat; what bothers me is that he speaks of misplacing load but hasn’t actually changed any of his habits.

We met after the holidays and he showed that he was conscious of his load, went on to say that he had fallen off the wagon during the holidays and was trying to get back into a number. Since then, we have gone on two beach vacations that he was “going to get in shape for” and if anything he has only gotten bigger.

As I mentioned, I have tried to influence him through my sample,( talking about the foods I’m eating, ever telling him when I’m at the gym) and when he makes explains about his heavines, I don’t reject them with “you’re not fat! “, I try to discuss a game plan for get him back on track. Over the past few months though, he has moved accommodations and switched business so the author claims he hasn’t given an opportunity to get back into a routine because of the time and stress. I’m nervous that this will continue to happen because there is obviously never going to be a perfect time to change.

Obviously this is important to me but everything else in our relations is reverberate and I’m happy, so I’m not looking to end happenings, just some advice to assist get thoughts done.

Sincerely,

Skinny Betch

Well, you’re not glad, are you? You’re emailing me, plainly, but you also said “I hoped that my speciman would motivate my boyfriend to get into shape.” There’s an old relation proverb along the lines of “women marry men hoping they’ll change, servicemen wed wives hoping they never do.” It’s principally true-blue and, even more importantly, neither objective is ever realise. Men who are unambitious losers rarely be transformed into millionaires, and women who is the beginning as party girl nymphos who like to get drunk and give hummers in movie theater rarely remain that road. C’est la vie . So you’re miserable that your stellar sample hasn’t magically diverted your glistening pig of a boyfriend into an adonis. No shit. Seeing a nutrition that a) works for you and b) you can stick to that outcomes weight loss is certainly fucking hard. And given that your best bet provides support to that diet with musing exercise, you’re talking about an entire paradigm transformation in his procedure. Combine that given the fact that weight loss simply gets harder the older we get, and he’s standing at the foot of the world’s tallest mountain, and all you’re doing to help him climbing is devouring kale and texting him from the elliptical . That’s not a moral neglect on your percentage, either. Short of preparing all of his nutrient for him( which would be ridiculous ), there’s not much you can do. The only real proposition I have is to maybe find certain kinds of activity that you can do together — tennis, hiking, paddle boarding, whatever. If that happens, there may be some to be expected that laying bare his physical paucities will press him to get serious about health and fitness . In the end, you’re on two sides of a segment. He, like likely 90% of specific populations, qualities weight loss and fitness but can’t find it in himself to prioritize it. You’re the opposite, in that you prioritize it in both yourself and him( despite going into this knowing exactly what you were get ). You have to get wise through your skull that things are unlikely to change for the better, and ultimately decide what’s more important to you .

Dearest Head Pro,

I’m caught in a lineage love triangle. A several weeks ago, your best friend placed me up with his little. Yes, little as in frat little. I don’t know why this shit is still relevant in the real world, but here “weve been”. So, regardless, we hit it off. The little is a great guy, though the fornication is medium-minus. Hoping to educate the young boy in the wiles of sexual encounters, I began to train Medium-Minus with the expectations of seeing him a solid medium.

So, a little backstory here. Medium-Minus just got out of a really fucked up tie-in, so he suffering from significant emotional PTSD and goes back and forth between wanting to date me and wanting to be swear off all women( including me- which is crazy, I know ). But although there are the sex is medium minus I still really like him. Emotionally unavailable humankinds seem to be my form these days!

Okay , now the actually fucking crazy side. While he’s been out of municipality for the past few weeks I inadvertently separated 3 bottles of rose (# roseallday) with his big and we wholly made out. Brose over here caught me off his guard with his good looks and even better wine-drinking abilities. I’d told that that was a onetime occasion, but I cant aid but do it with him when I’m drinking …. And a girl’s gotta stick to her diet.

Well….it’s all fun and games until someone catches the feels. And someone happened to be BOTH of us. Brose thought it was a bright idea to tell his little( aka Medium-Minus) in on his feelings( except for the component about us making out ). Are a bit incestual no? They’re like mostly bros (# frat #brotherhood #lineage) and I’ve somehow placed myself in the middle of their bromance and fucked everything up. And it gets even more awk…because Medium-Minus cuss he’s trying to date me when he recalls from his travellings. Can’t say I wouldn’t likewise be defensive about misplacing a total fucking catch like me.

So….Medium-Minus and I have hindered talking while he’s been away, but the combined effects of sexting and “I merely can’t be with you right now” is getting v old .. especially when Brose is just sitting pretty on the back burner. I know that I need to at least wait until he gets back from wherever he is, but I’m not sure what my game plan is when he does. Chiefly I fantasize I need to stop dating frat boys( line-up note- I never even dated them in college, irony ?). But in the meantime, are you able help a betch out? The striving is real.

With drunken love,

XXX sratstar

Wait, waitwaitwaitwait: This entire email is premised on existing conflicts arising under their college brotherhood association, and you’re not even in fucking college ?!?!? Like, I’m speaking this word, reputing “wow, ok, this could get actually sticky if they’re living under the same house, ” and at the very end you cease the missile that college is in the past-tense for you? You were somehow “caught off guard” by his good looks( had you, uh , not viewed him before ?) and his boozing abilities? A bottle and a half of wine-colored isn’t even all that impressive for a buster, fyi. Not that I would know, or anything . Anyway, you don’t actually have a problem here. The one person is coldness and good and into you( somehow !), and another guy is good in bottom and one screening away from spurting some despicable bullshit on a Men’s Rights subreddit. There is not a real choice, and the fact that you had to dig up their college fraternity brotherhood( which no one cares about after college, I predict) to construct one sees me think you might enjoy the( non) drama a teensy weensy fragment . If you genuinely want to stop “re kidding”, you don’t need to wait for the one guy to get back from “wherever he is.” I necessitate, if you don’t even know where he is and half the time he’s calling you a jezebel, that’s not exactly a relationship that expects a lot of closure. If anything, him being gone is a perfect opportunity to use remote communication to avail him of the notion that you’ll be a pair .

In the future, past frat relationship is maybe not a good signal of a guy’s tone. Being bad in bunk and a borderline misogynist, nonetheless, emphatically is .

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apsbicepstraining · 6 years

Text

Am I Shallow For Disliking That My Boyfriend Is Fat? Ask A Pro

Dead Head Pro,

Fully understanding how shallow I am going to sound, I’ll descent right in.

Obviously this is important to me but everything else in our relations is reverberate and I’m happy, so I’m not looking to end happenings, just some advice to assist get thoughts done.

Sincerely,

Skinny Betch

Dearest Head Pro,

With drunken love,

XXX sratstar

In the future, past frat relationship is maybe not a good signal of a guy’s tone. Being bad in bunk and a borderline misogynist, nonetheless, emphatically is .

The post Am I Shallow For Disliking That My Boyfriend Is Fat? Ask A Pro appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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#IFTTT #WordPress

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apsbicepstraining · 6 years

Text

Am I Shallow For Disliking That My Boyfriend Is Fat? Ask A Pro

Dead Head Pro,

Fully understanding how shallow I am going to sound, I’ll descent right in.

Obviously this is important to me but everything else in our relations is reverberate and I’m happy, so I’m not looking to end happenings, just some advice to assist get thoughts done.

Sincerely,

Skinny Betch

Dearest Head Pro,

With drunken love,

XXX sratstar

In the future, past frat relationship is maybe not a good signal of a guy’s tone. Being bad in bunk and a borderline misogynist, nonetheless, emphatically is .

The post Am I Shallow For Disliking That My Boyfriend Is Fat? Ask A Pro appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2y9IiAa via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes