Blissfully watching Asgore grilling on the back deck like a teenager dreaming of a crush while taking every opportunity to look at his butt through the small gap in the sexy apron he's wearing, feeling some bizarre and overwhelming compulsion to stop everything I'm doing to put both of my hands on Asgore's face under the ears to look him straight in the eyes while I tell him he means the world to me and that I love him more than anything (in retrospect a strange thing to do in the middle of the paint & sundries aisle of the local hardware store, but I had to do it to 'em), watching some anime with Asgore when I ask if we'd be better off sticking with the English version or watching it in Japanese with subtitles for a more authentic experience and feeling a menacing vibrations suddenly permeate the air as a perfectly-timed telephone call from his friend Alphys rings out as if somehow in response to my question