The Big Cheese

by anonpencil

Rating: mature
Tags: Random, Human, Twilight Sparkle, Anon, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Second Person, Comedy, Other, Flower Ponies, Queen Chrysalis
Length: 5537

Rumors are spreading about your friend Queen Chrysalis, and some of them sound too absurd to be true! There's no way you'd believe such things... at least not without investigating thoroughly first.

You've been friends with Chryssi for a while now, but you're finding out you don't know as much about her as you thought. In fact, you're hearing some pretty distressing rumors around town. But they're ridiculous! There's no way they're true...still, maybe you should ask her about them just in case, before you try to pursue a relationship. That wouldn't be so bad, right?

Art by the wonderful Venates. Go follow him.

HEAR A LIVE READING OF THE STORY HERE! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=886Mtm4aBdw

WARNING: Contains vomit. That's right boys and girls, we've got ourselves an Anonpencil vomit fic. You have been officially warned. Read at your own risk.

Published 2016-09-12 21:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-09-12 21:50:01 UTC

That Colby a Gouda Whey to Make Yourself Bleu

You like to think of yourself as a pretty tolerant guy, but it took you a while to warm up to the queen of the changelings. Never mind the fact that she looks like a giant insect. Never mind that she once tried to enslave all the ponies and force them to love her. Nope, you can overlook all of that, but you still couldn't shake the feeling that she was somehow creepy for a while.

That being said, there came a night when the two of you had seen each other across the bar in Ponyville, both looking grumpy and miserable, and things had happened quickly after that. She'd bought you a drink. You'd bought her one next. Before you knew it, you were talking naturally and easily, as if you'd known each other all your lives. It made sense to you, in a way. People are always more honest and open when they've been drinking. Why should ponies been any different!

So it had been a few months now since the two of you had become what you could call friends, and so far, you didn't really have any complaints. She was graceful, kind, funny, and quick to laugh at all of your jokes. She even had these oddly entrancing eyes, that she swore on her honor she'd never use to hypnotize you (you only half believe her, but hey, you're not exactly complaining.) Truth be told, you liked her better than anyone you'd met so far.

So why is it that now, after these months, you're beginning to question things?

You ask yourself this a few times as you stare at Twilight across the small crystal table at her castle. It's not Twilight's business who you're friends with, but she still feels the need to talk with you today about your interactions with Chryssi. Yes, Twilight is a princess, but why should you be taking her word for all this? The purple pony chews her lip briefly before she goes on.

"I'm telling you, she's bad news," she says earnestly, being careful to look you directly in the eye as she speaks. "I've known her longer, please believe me."

You roll your eyes at her.

"Oh give me a break, Twi," you say. "You never believe anyone is fully redeemable. What did you do with that student of yours? Didn't you send her to live with the Yaks because you couldn't deal with her constant slip-ups?"

"Hey, that was different. She turned Spike into a teacup."

"I'd say that's an improvement."

"She pushed the teacup off a balcony and broke it!"

"I stand by my words."

Twilight sighs in exasperation and fidgets uncomfortably. You're not sure if it's you bringing up her unofficially banished student, or simply the topic you're discussing in general, but she seems genuinely uneasy right now. You can't feel too sorry for her, though. Serves her right for butting into your business like this. I mean, who calls in someone they've only spoken to a handful of times and tells them they should reconsider their friendship?

"Look, I'm the Princess of Friendship," she says, as if reading your thoughts. "So I know a thing or two about this. I just want you to be careful."

You shrug dismissively.

"I am being careful," you say. "We just get drinks, chat, hang out, that's all. What's the harm there?"

Twilight raises an eyebrow at you.

"And you're not thinking of making the relationship more romantic in nature?"

You start to deny it, then hesitate to reconsider. You know, she is nice, and tall enough for you to actually have some good leverage should situations take a turn for the sexual. You might not even have to bend your knees at all in order to have a go at her from behind! Yeah, there's the insect thing, but pussy is pussy, right? Besides, she's a great friend, and she's fun to talk to. Why shouldn't you consider moving your relationship to the next level?

"Huh," you say thoughtfully. "You know, that's not a bad idea. Thanks Princess, you're an inspiration to your species."

Twilight stammers at you as you rise and give her a slight bow, before turning to leave.

"Wait!" she cries out, then rushes to stand in front of you, blocking your way out. "That's not what I meant!"

"Yeah I know, but you put such a wonderful idea in my head and all, I think that's all we really need to talk about today."

She scowls.

"It's not. I really need you to be careful about what you're getting into. For your sake, and for hers."

The princess looks around the room as if someone might be listening, then looks to you very earnestly. She lowers her voice to nearly a whisper as she speaks.

"She's not what she seems," she says gravely.

"Well yeah, she's a changeling, so-"

"I mean," Twilight continues as if she hadn't heard you. "That you don't know her like you think you do. And it's not that I think she's evil or that she's irredeemable or that she'll hurt you or something like that. It's just that I know you, and I know her. You're not right for each-other. It could be horrible, and I don't want to see you get hurt, ok? So don't do anything before you do a little research."

You narrow your eyes at her as an uncomfortably idea occurs to you.

"Wait, are you just saying this because she fucked over your brother and stuff? Because she hit it and quit it, so your bro ended up a cheater right before his wedding? Is this you trying to get even?"

Twilight's face flushes.

"What? No! That's not-"

"Uh-huh, I see how it is," you say, shaking your head in disappointment. "That's a pretty underhanded move, Princess. Not at all what I'd expect from you, even after the whole student banishment thing. I'll see myself out."

As you walk past the stammering pony, you hear her finally blurt out an additional warning as you pass.

"You don't need to take my word for it! There's a reason everyone fell in love with her!" Her voice raises in volume as you open the door and move to exit. "Just walk around town and ask! Listen to ponies talk about her! She's not what she seems!!!"

You slam the door behind you, but as you leave you can't help feeling a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Sure, Twilight is totally the jealous type, but would she really lie about something like this? And what does her warning really mean? Rather than give her the satisfaction of you going back to ask more questions, you turn your steps in the direction of Ponyville to do a little good natured digging.

Nothing bad could possibly come of that.

In the small tavern, you sip your cider and do your best not to seem too obvious in your intentions. You've scoured the bar, walked past groups to listen in, and even asked the bartender about your new friend. So far, you haven't gotten much information, and when you asked the bartender, the pony just laughed and said "What, ol' Queen Cheese Legs? She's just well-aged is all." and laughed it off. You're not even sure what that means, though you have to admit that the holes in her legs did remind you a little of swiss cheese. Is she super old or something? Alicorns do seem to live an awful long time. Either way, you've come up dry in your search, and the outlook doesn't look good for that changing anytime soon.

You might just have to bite the bullet and fuck her without knowing her history. You wonder where you can buy condoms in Equestria, just in case.

You're about to give up, when you suddenly spot a group of young ponies wandering in, all giggling and gossiping loudly. They look like those girls who run the local shops, and you recognize one flower-sales mare who must surely be anemic with how often she faints. As they near the bar, you cross your fingers and you're at last rewarded.

"Thank goodness Queen Chrysalis isn't here. Did you see she's been coming to this bar sometimes?" one of the ponies says. "And without any of her little changeling minions too! Just her. What does she even think she's doing?"

"Oh I know," another says with an eyeroll as she pays for her drink. "Who does she even thing she's fooling? We all know what she's really about."

"Yeah, she's not getting any bites with that attitude."

All three laugh and shake their heads reproachfully. They collect their drinks and move over to a nearby table. You wait for a minute or two, then make your way to a table nearby them without their notice. Maybe if you strain your ears just right you'll get some information about your potential fuck-buddy.

"You know," one says. "I heard Shining Armor didn't find out right away, that it wasn't till after he was married!"

The others gasp.

"No way."

"Oh, the horror!"

"It's true! I mean, you'd think he'd notice right away that..."

Here their voices lower, as if they're talking about something horribly taboo. You slide to the edge of your seat and lean close, straining your ears as best you can. You can almost make out what they're saying now, something about Chryssi, something about...

Your eyes widen and your pupils dilate as you finally understand what they're saying.

No.

No fucking way. There's no way that can be true. It's absurd! It's completely and totally insane, there's no way that she...she couldn't possibly...

You quickly down a large gulp of your cider, your hands shaking as you try to grip the mug. There has to be a way to find out if this is true! Not that there's any chance it could be, it doesn't even sound like a real thing. It must be made up, but...then again...if it's not...

The fact of the matter is that you have to know. You absolutely have to know for sure. If what they're saying is accurate, Twilight had every right to warn you after all, and you doubt Chryssi will offer up the information willingly. She'd have to be completely comfortable with you, in a state of mind where being honest and relaxed is totally natural. But that could take so much time, and the whole while you could be getting completely fooled. No, there has to be a way to get her to open up.

A sudden thought strikes you, and a smile worms its way across your face.

You down the rest of the mug and nod to yourself in satisfaction. Fumbling for a bit or two, you make your way to the payphone beside the bar and check the number you have written down on a crumpled paper in your pocket. You insert the bits and dial, then wait as it rings once, then twice. At last you hear a click, and a soft, sensual voice on the other end greets you. You can't help but smile at the sound of it.

"Hi, Chryssi?" you say. "Yeah it's me. Say, would you be up for coming out drinking with me tonight? I feel like really letting loose."

It's less than an hour before she arrives, and you've already plotted out what drinks you'll go with. She's a bit of a lightweight, though she loves wine the best. You'll save that for last. First it's shots to get things moving, maybe a cider first if she's skittish. Then, once she's feeling it, you'll offer to buy a bottle of wine for you to split, and you'll only drink one glass. By then, it's just a matter of continually feeding her enough wine until she's up for telling you anything and everything. Heck, you'll probably have to reveal some things about yourself too, but it'll be worth it to dispel this rumor.

Maybe once that's over, if she's sober enough, you can go have a little fun somewhere. But only if she's sober enough, of course. Only creeps take advantage of drunk ponies, and you're no creep. Never mind that you've been spying on ponies, told off a princess today, and are planning on getting your friend drunk so that she tells you her deepest, darkest secrets. Yep, you're totally not a creep.

As she walks in and sidles up to the bar next to you, she smiles warmly at you and opens her hooves for a hug. You accept, though a little hesitantly. She certainly seems like normal her, as always. That's a good sign at least.

"Hey there two legs," she says in a sort of purr.

"Hey yourself cheese legs," you say back.

She rolls her large green eyes.

"Ugh, I hate that nickname," she grumbles. Then she nods at the bartender. "Has he been telling you to call me that?"

She sneers good-naturedly at him, and he smiles warmly back, then winks. That's weird, but hey, maybe they have history or something. You shake your head.

"Nope, he hasn't told me a thing. I've just been hearing it around."

She sighs.

"You'll hear a lot of things about me if you ask around," she says sadly. "I suppose I deserve it after all I did to these ponies. But hey, you came here to get drunk, not to hear me whine about my own problems and past, right?"

That's exactly why you're here, but she doesn't need to know that.

"Right," you say jovially.

"So, what did you have in mind to start?"

You shrug, as if you've not really considered it.

"I dunno, feel up to shots?"

Her expression lights up and she claps her front hooves together excitedly.

"I am so very game. You pick the liquor, I'll drink it," she giggles, a sound that seems to inexplicably squeak and echo at the same time. "I can tell that tonight is going to be loads of fun."

You signal the bartender for the first round and flash your drinking partner a coy little smile.

"Oh Chryssi my dear, you have no idea."

You pour the changeling queen her third glass of wine, as she stamps her front hoof on that bar in uncontrollable laughter. She pauses, takes the glass, as if she never noticed it was empty, and wipes a tear from the corner of one eye.

"So you're telling me," she says, as if it takes real effort not to slur or laugh. "That someone else said they'd broken into the science lab, and you got away with it completely while they got in trouble with the school and the police?"

"Yep, that's exactly what happened," you say with a soft laugh and a shrug.

Okay, so that didn't exactly happen to you, but it did at least happen to a friend of yours. It's not completely lying, even if lying is one of the worst things you can do in a relationship. It's not even a relationship yet, you remind yourself. Besides, everyone lies to their girlfriend at first, right?

The queen continues to laugh and she sips down even more wine, then shakes her head and sighs.

"The Earth sounds completely insane," she says, amusement still overflowing in her tone. "And it sounds like you've had one wild past!"

"What can I say," you say. "I'm a wild and crazy guy."

She chuckles and nudges you with one shoulder. You can definitely tell she's gotten a little drunk, maybe even drunk enough to be honest about her past if you ask. It's all about picking the right words now, making sure you don't come across as too pushy.

"Besides," you say after a moment. "I hear you used to be pretty wild and crazy too."

She snorts and smiles at you mischievously.

"So you have been hearing things about me!" she says with a tsk. "I wonder what sort of things..."

"Just the usual," you assure her. "About how you tried to take over Ponyville and about how you got it on with Twilight's brother."

"You mean the time before the wedding or after?"

"Wait, what?"

"Kidding, kidding!" she says with a hearty laugh.

You're not entirely sure she's kidding, but you let it slide.

"But yeah," you go on. "Everyone around here seems to know about what you used to be. It's nice that they've mostly forgiven you, even if you do make some of a them a little uncomfortable."

Her smile fades and a frown takes its place. Her shoulders sag perceptibly, and she leans forward over her drink with a resigned sigh. You almost wish you'd never done this, but you also get the feeling that she's close to opening up about things, and this is something you really need to know. You hold your tongue and wait for her to speak.

"You know," she says at last. "I was never really ashamed of what I am. I liked being me, ponies loved me, they lusted after me. All my minions that grew from me, all the ponies I'd turned to me like an addiction. Even the princess, who knew me from the beginning. All of them loved me, and I fed off that love. Now, though, now that they know what I am...I know they'd still like me or love me if they gave me a shot but...like you said. My mere existence, what I am, it makes them uneasy."

You sit in silence, looking at her as she stares sullenly into her wine. When she doesn't speak any further, you put a hand on her shoulder and lean over comfortingly to pat it.

"Well, you don't make me uneasy," you say earnestly.

She looks up into your face and smiles gently. It's a wonderful smile, one you think you'd be happy to see next to you in bed beneath semi-concious eyes, exhausted by hours of relentless fucking. She pats your hand here it rests on your shoulder, as if comforting you now.

"You know, I've notished that."

Was that a slur in her voice? You think that was a slur. Yes, we've reached drunk and talkative levels, time to push it a step further! You nod at her half-full glass of wine.

"Want me to top that off?"

She nods vigorously.

"Yes, pleash."

You pour it to the brim, and she eagerly begins to drink it. In fact, you've never seen her drink quite this readily or much before, at least not so fast. You feel a soft pang of concern, but quickly brush it off. This is what you were aiming for, don't plan the plan if you can't follow through.

"So," you say slowly. "What do you mean when you say ponies don't like you? They seem nice enough to you."

She lets out a scoff, drains the wineglass, then holds it out to you for a refill. You glance at her warily, but do as she asks. She has pretty much killed the whole bottle.

"Yeah, they're nice enough ta me," she says. "It's cause they're shcared of me. Or meybe they just pity me, I dunno. Either way, they're nice cause Luna tells em to be. She feels reshponsible."

"Responsible?"

She nods vigorously, then takes another gulp.

"Yeah. Ya see, she knows why ponies don't like me, and she's one of the reashons for it. So she tries to make shure everyone is at leasht nice. Even if I'm not as fancy as em, or sphishtocated, or what they originally thought.They just don't like me, it'sh that simple."

"Well," you say, trying not to sound to eager with this questions. "What don't ponies like about you?"

She pauses, and for a moment you think she's going to go silent. She's swaying on her bar stool now, and she looks like she's considering something very carefully. Then, all at once, she swivels to face you dramatically, nearly losing her balance in the process.

"It'sh...cause of what I am!"

"A changeling?"

She shakes her head no.

"More than that! It'sh because I'm....I'm..."

She sways more violently, and you reach out to steady her. You can feel she's trembling all over, and tears are forming in the corners of her eyes. You've gone to far, you realize. Whatever this is, there's no way it's related to the rumor you heard, and you've pushed her to the point where she's going to cry. You'll only ask one more question, and whatever she says, you'll leave it alone and accept it now, you can take that risk. Besides, with how drunk she is, you certainly aren't getting laid tonight. You tenderly raise a hand to her cheek and look into her watering eyes.

"It's because...you're...?"

"I'm..."

"You're...?"

She goes still, her eyes suddenly dilate.

"I'm going to be sick," she says flatly.

Before you can fully make sense of what she's saying, the changeling queen has leapt to her feet. As you take a breath to try to speak, she's rushing past you to the back porch area of the bar, outside. You stammer at her fleeing form for a moment, then snap out of your shocked stupor and clumsily race after her. The bar door swings shut behind you, and you find yourself alone with her.

You spot her black, shimmering form curled over the low railing, shoulders quaking from exertion. You hear the soft sound of wretching, then a gag, then a rush of fluids as the queen vomits up all the wine she'd drunk way too fast with you. You sigh and shake your head in disappointment, both at yourself and at her. Hell, you thought the girl could hold her liquor a little better than that. Still, you are to blame for this, and the least you can do is hold the lady's hair back while she empties everything out of her.

"Hey Chryssi," you say quietly as you approach, a warning so she isn't startled and pukes on your shoes. "It's me. How ya doing?"

She doesn't look up to react to you, but her shoulders shudder a little again, and you realize she's about to vomit once more. With a well-trained hand (thanks college) you reach out to cup her thick locks of teal hair, drawing them back like a curtain. You mentally prepare yourself for what you're about to see. You've seen drunk chicks throwing up mostly wine before, and it honestly looks like they're bleeding from the inside out. Once the initial shock wears off, it's no big deal, you remind yourself. All that red is just from the wine, it's no big deal, and you panicking will do no one any good. You hold your breath so as not to smell the stomach bile, pull up the hair towards her ear to tuck it back, then freeze, mid-motion, at what you see.

That vomit is so not red.

As Chryssi's mouth opens, tongue lolling forward, a torrent of yellow-orange bursts forth, thick and globulous like Elmer's school glue. It falls in a sticky, creamy rain onto the ground to form a quickly-growing puddle that seems to unnaturally refuse to seep into the ground. As you gasp in an unwilling breath, you do not smell the usual sour acid and bile. Instead, you smell a strange, artificial chemical smell, mixed with salt. In fact, the smell is oddly alluring, even if doesn't smell like real edible food. You realize, very quickly, exactly what you're looking at.

The changeling queen is vomiting cheese whiz.

Hand shaking, you drop her hair and step back a step or two. She coughs heavily as the substance sputters, like there's pressured air behind it, then eventually stops flowing. Her eyes are continuing to water with either tears or exertion as she looks up at you pitifully. You look into her eyes, see the shame there, and you know suddenly that the rumors you heard were, in fact, correct.

"Then it's true," you murmur hollowly.

Her eyes continue to fill with tears, and her lower lip quivers. Then, all at once, she collapses onto the ground and bursts into choking sobs.

"Yes, alright," she wails. "It's true, it's all true! Everypony knows that changelings come from larva, but I was the first changeling, and that's not where I came from. You see, when Princess Luna was a lonely little filly, she didn't have anyone to play with, so created a golem to be her best friend, then magically gave it life. Well, of course, she made it out of one of her favorite things!"

You don't want to hear what she says next, but you know you can't stop it. The queen sniffs.

"She was always making grilled cheese, it's her favorite you know, and so she made the golem out of that same cheese. But you know kids," she says with a bitter laugh. She gags as she suppresses more cheese vomit, then continues. "They never use great ingredients, so she made the golem out of those processed cheese slices and stuck it all together with spray cheese...and...well...that golem was me!"

Here again she sobs uncontrollably, then turns to the side so she can chokingly vomit up yet more cheese whiz onto the ground. You step another few feet away, grimacing down at the queen. It all makes sense now, you realize. The jokes, the nickname, her love of wine, why Luna would feel responsible. The rumors were true. The queen is made of cheese, and not even that! She's made of cheap processed cheese, the lowest of cheese genres! You feel a stab of disgust in your chest and stomach.

"Yes! I'm made of cheese! But that's not all," Chryssi says as she wipes her mouth with the back of one swiss-looking hoof. "When she was sent to the moon, I escaped, and I found that...well...everypony loved me! They couldn't' place why, and they couldn't figure it out, but they all just inexplicably loved me! I was great at parties, I went great with wine tastings, and I was perfect for when everyone just wanted to relax and watch sports. I kept my secret all the while. As long as they didn't know what was in me, what I was made of, they couldn't help finding me company delicious! I was damn near addictive, despite my cheap, horrible substance."

Yeah, you can sorta see that. You quickly realize that this is why she's hypnotizing, why ponies love her, and why they hate her now. Also why she's always eating that cheese, probably to replenish her body. As if to confirm your suspicions, she goes on.

"When Shining Armor found out, after that whole ordeal, he told pretty much everyone, and they realized they'd...they'd been loving garbage! They'd been loving something that wasn't real, lied about what it was made of, and something that could even be harmful to them! And that's when they...they started to hate me!"

This part proves to be too much, and she lets her head drop forward into her hooves as she continues to cry thick, salty tears.

"They hate me," she says brokenly through her sobs. "I can't help what I am, I just want ponies to love me again, like they used to. If they just gave me a chance, stopped caring so much about specifics and details...I think that...they..."

"You lied to me," you say quietly.

She falls silent.

"I'm sorry," she says softly after a moment. "I just liked you, and I figured you'd hate me too if you found out. I was going to tell you at some point, I promise!"

"But you didn't."

"I know! I know!" she cries out bitterly. "I just wanted a chance, one chance! I didn't want you running away just because I'm made of inferior cheese, because I really like you, and...and...even if you don't like cheep cheese or it disgusts you like everypony else...I'm so much more than that. I just wanted you to see that. I just...wanted..."

She goes quiet again, seeming to lose her words. You don't hear her crying anymore, but you can see her shoulders shaking every so often with pain and shame. All at once, you feel a slow wave of pity wash over you. How often have you lied to girls on a first date? How often have you been afraid of people not liking the real you. Besides, being cheese isn't that bad, right? Sure, it makes things complicated for you, and you'll have to be careful and make some serious adjustments, but...you like this cheese pony. Despite what she's made of.

And she did say she really likes you. Maybe finding a new definition for dick cheese won't be so bad.

You take a deep breath, then let it out in a resigned sigh. With hesitant steps, you walk over to where Chryssi is huddled, and reach out your hand. You find the soft curve of her black cheek, then raise her head to look at you. Her green eyes shimmer, wet and hopeless, but as they meet with yours she takes a sudden little hopeful breath.

"Hey," you say gently. "I still think you're great. Even if your ingredients are a little unnatural. I'm not going to go away just because you're made of cheese, and we'll need to talk more about all this. Just no more lies, ok?"

New tears spring to her eyes as her expression lights up to mirror your own smile. You can see hope filling her, and she shakes all over once with unexpected joy before she quickly leaps to her feet.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, I just...just..." she stammers.

Then, all at once, before you can stop her, she leaps forward and plants a massive, wet kiss on your lips.

Your whole body goes rigid. You didn't have a chance to protest, didn't have a chance to tell her no. You try to keep your lips shut, but her long slick tongue artfully worms its way past your lips into your mouth, and you taste the salty chemical creaminess that you now know is her true makeup. The strong, artificial taste of processed cheese caresses your tongue and tonsils, and you let out a muffled scream against her mouth as you try desperately to pry her off.

She stumbles backwards, a thin strand of saliva connecting your lips for a moment, her expression one of hurt and confusion. You'd be happy to comfort her, of course, if you weren't busy grabbing your throat and collapsing to the floor. Through the tears now filling your own eyes, you see her hold her hooves to her mouth, then give a little gasp of horror. You'd mimic that gasp, but your throat is already starting to swell, and you know there's nothing you can do. You fall with flailing thud to the ground and began to writhe there, tearing at your neck and wheezing for air.

"Oh my gosh, what's happening? Are you ok? Tell me what's wrong!" the changeling queen cries.

You would. You know. If you weren't choking to death. She seems to notice you grabbing at your throat, and her eyes widen in recognition.

"Oh! You're choking, oh...I know what to do!"

You want to scream to her to stop, that no, that's not what she should be doing, but before you can find some frantic sign language to warn her away, she leans down over you. You hear her take a deep breath in, then feel the sudden impact of her fanged mouth against yours. The air barely makes it past your swelling throat, and you feel a burn as the rest of your body starts to react to the tainted cheese-air.

Then, as if to add insult to injury, you hear her gag, and a torrent of cheese-whiz-vomit erupts from her mouth into yours. She jerks her head back with shrieks of apology and panic, and you sputter as your thrashing and flailing continues. Small air bubbles rise in the cheese whiz pooling in your mouth, but then begin to stop as your throat swells entirely shut. Everything begins to get hazy, orange and hazy, as flecks of fake yellow cheese cloud your vision.

You know, you liked her. Really you did. And you were right that you should be open with those you want to date. It's just a shame that you never got the chance to reveal your own deep dark secret to her:

You're severely lactose intolerant

-END-

Author's Note

HAH! HAHA! I finally did it! I finally fucking sucked it up and wrote a story about the image on my profile! Well, now it has context, and you've read it and I'm not even slightly, a little, for a moment sorry. I love this story, I had SO much fun writing this, start to finish, and it makes me very happy.
Besides, I've been meaning to do another vomit fic, so why not?
Hope you enjoyed or endured this.

-Pencil:heart: