middaeg | feb catch-all

Entry tags:

feb catch-all

Who: Mettaton & open!
When: Throughout Feoveuer
Where: Various
What: Mettaton, a robot, learns to live, laugh, and love......... No, he learns to sleep and taste, as a biological necessity. He takes full advantages of these mortal splendors by sleeping! in! beds!, and eating your Valentine's chocolate while asking you on the date you deserve. There's also a prompt to follow up on his pursuit for a cure to metal weakness. Plus some closed prompts! Feel free to get in touch via MTT's plotting comment if you'd like a custom prompt.
Warnings: usual MTT drama

1. Fact: Mettaton owns a bed. He's never needed it.

A. A Refrigerator Blocks The Way

[First of all, I deceived you. There's a prompt where Mettaton is sleeping... but not in a bed.

Mettaton has developed a peculiar new... ability. Truth be told, it was something he tapped into starting in Iuneril, when he found himself desperate for energy while in the Rathmore's dungeon and slipped into dreamland. He shouldn't have been able to last that entire stay in his EX body, exerting himself as he did! So how did he do it?

In any inappropriate area of your choosing, there is a big metal box. These inappropriate areas may include, but are not limited to...
the middle of the street in the Entertainment District,
blocking a doorway to the Coven,
or even in your front yard.
The metal box kind of looks like it could be a game machine, or some other kind of puzzle-deploying apparatus...? But it must be broken. Its screen is off. Closing in on it suggests further that it must be broken, for it's emitting some kind of repetitive noise...]

ZZZZZZZZ...

[This robot keeps saying "Z" out loud repeatedly, sincerely asleep. Move it with force?]

B. If You're All Alone...

[How incredible! Mettaton's realized it: he's truly able to sleep, just like people do. Most surprisingly, he hasn't needed to recharge in weeks, so sleeping has its obvious benefit.

This time, Mettaton EX sleeps with far more purpose, though he still does so in inappropriate places with more intent. The TV star sleeps in places where he can be noticed, as if drawing attention to the fact that look, he's asleep! Really! While I leave this to your decision, a few ideas include...
sleeping in a reclining position atop a desk,
invading your very own HOUSE and occupying your COUCH or your BED, my GOD,
or... cradled in the palms of a statue with its arms outstretched, in the center of an ornate fountain, like he's god's gift to mankind.
All I'm saying is that you really couldn't come up with a location too ridiculous for Mettaton to be sleeping in. He'll sleep atop a piano, or on a chandelier and tell you it's like he's in a music video! But no matter where he sleeps, he does so peacefully with a satisfied smile.

But he should definitely be stopped. He's a menace, he might break something with how heavy he is, and therefore he's a hazard.]

2. Fact: Mettaton enjoys feeding himself grapes seductively atop pianos.

[It's edging close to the 14^th, and though Aefenglom treats Valentine's Day like a foreign concept, many of the Mirrorbound still seem determined to uphold their own traditions. With the full moon having come and gone, Mettaton's discovered a surprising, unique new sensation that has him floored, and overwhelmed: taste.

There's so much in this city to try that it's dizzying. That Mettaton EX him rushing up to the next Mirrorbound he finds carrying food, be it chocolate, a croissant, or an indeterminate abomination of un-food. It doesn't matter. His golden eye is bright with curiosity, his smile brimming with excitement.]

Hey there, beautiful! I see you're indulging in the wonders of edible delights. Care to share... with me?? Ooh, what a fabulous opportunity for some intimacy, as Valentine's Day hovers so close by! Could it be... A date??

[A date where Mettaton eats your food, and rates it.]

3. Fact: Mettaton's GOing To Patent This Enchantment As MTT-Brand Metal Benadryl

I DON'T FEEL IT ANYMORE... THAT PERSISTENT BURN, THAT AGONIZING CORROSION. IT'S LIKE I'M A BRAND NEW ROBOT!!

[Mettaton carries with him two different things related to his latest appeal for help: spells pre-loaded onto thick slips of paper for any Monster weak against various metals, and the actual alchemical enchantment's instructions and requirements for the curious Witch. His screen blinks yellow and red with his brand new relief, and he spins around.

When he notices somebody nearby, he wheels up to them and...
if they appear to be a Witch, he will pull out the technical instructions on how to conduct the enchantment.
if they appear to be a Monster, particularly of a Puca, Vampire, Turnskin, or Fae persuasion, he'll pull out one of the slips of paper.]

DARLING! PERHAPS YOU'D BE INTERESTED IN THE LATEST IN ENCHANTMENTS. IF IT CAN WORK ON ME TO THIS DEGREE... I'M SEEING A PROMISING FUTURE FOR THIS BREAKTHROUGH SPELL!

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[It could have been the sleeping prompt... But we're doing it with style and deliberation.

Mettaton's been pretty absorbed with his own status ever since the Rathmore's terrific torture time. There was much to focus on, granted: his synthetic repairs, his organic health, his exacerbated allergy to iron, his need for a Bond, the upcoming full moon... On top of his desire to be as entertaining as ever despite it all. But he'd be the last to admit that he's putting off seeing Papyrus for any reason, heavens no!

When he arrives to the place he knows as Papyrus's residence, he knocks. Then, he lets himself in. There's nobody home... Mettaton hardly takes a moment to think on it, deciding that he's not going to miss out on the opportunity to catch up this time. He's already decided! In an effort to kill time, the boxy bot maneuvers himself on to Papyrus's... couch. With its chewed cushions.]

.....

[Turnskin thing, he assumes. It's not long into his observation of Papyrus's house that Mettaton finds himself dozing off, his screen uncharacteristically dimmed and his arms hanging at each side of his body like wet noodles. This is what Papyrus will return to!]

Edited 2020-02-13 00:40 (UTC)

[To regurgitate my phrasing on the CR meme, because it's entirely too accurate:

Alphys, sorry. Mettaton's no good with doors even to this day, so her privacy is sorely interrupted as he all but kicks the door in and takes a bold step in not on pink heels, but bandaged rabbit feet.]

OHH YES! ALPHYS, IT'S ME!

[He's here. In case the door slamming open isn't indication enough.

The moment she gets a good look at him, however, she'll know that something's not right. Mettaton's right arm is in shambles, segments of the metal tube hanging loose and exposing wires and organic fibers. Teeth-shaped gouges pepper his pink torso, his shoulder guards are bent out of shape, the synthetic skin of his face and neck has eroded away to expose metal, and most importantly, the glass over his heart container is cracked.

But at least his hair looks perfect.

No matter how Alphys chooses to react, Mettaton dominates the conversation as he usually does, pressing the back of his good hand against his forehead in a flourish of drama. He sashays inside and deposits himself on the closest soft surface she has — couch or bed, it doesn't matter. He lifts a leg higher than his head as he reclines, his busted arm dragging behind him.]

MY REPAIRS, DARLING. IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE YOU'VE TENDED TO ME.

[like he's some kind of ritzy noble beckoning for a servant to undress him, he ushers her closer with a flick of his wrist. For as ridiculous as he's being, however, he's... in terrible, terrible shape. And he smells like chemical.]

Edited 2020-02-13 00:57 (UTC)

[He's so hard to miss. Mikasa wasn't sure what was going on until she'd heard it was Valentine's day, not that she'd made chocolate. She normally did, but this was too soon.

Wasn't her birthday due before that? She'd been told time had little meaning her but that seemed off. But now she had some money she could try some of the more usual food. Which was most of it... So instead of actually getting something new, she ended up at an ice cream stand. She knows what that is. That's when he appears.]

No.

[She's not even gotten it yet. And she kinda didn't want to share.]

There's so many flavors...

[The one in Marley only had one. This needs some thinking and frowning in concentration.]

[Ok so she was out to deliver some homemade chocolates, and he was one of those on her list of friends. Ever since Mira saw him drink, she had a thought that maybe he could try this.

Couldn't hurt. But as he makes his grand entrance, Mira cannot help but question something:]

Um, what this 'date' you speak of?

[Connor has a loaf of bread under his arm and is heading back home when Mettaton stops him. He looks down at the bread, then back up at Mettaton. The last they saw each other, they were both in bad shape... it's good to see the other robot has recovered.]

You want to share a loaf of bread with me?

[Can Mettaton even eat? Connor sure can't.]

It's actually for Hank... but we could get something else, if you like?

[...what was that. Doing. In his front yard?

Someone's left a giant metal box on the path between house and street, that looks somehow both recklessly abandoned, and elegantly displayed (Emet-Selch was really not quite sure how a discarded rectangle managed that). But why would anyone leave something like it there? It didn't appear like anything his housemates would've collected, which meant that it wasn't supposed to be there. Perhaps he should just destroy it...? A closer look, first.

But on approaching the strangely noisesome lump of trash, the Ascian felt the most absurd thing. As though he were somehow connected to some oversized rubbish--

--oh no.

It's at this point that Emet-Selch quite seriously considers just going back inside, teleporting elsewhere, or otherwise just not engaging with what was sure to be a tiring conversation. But at the same time, it was wholly inappropriate to be napping(?) in his front lawn. What would the neighbors think? (Alright, the Ascian didn't care about that, but he felt vaguely offended nonetheless, and he wasn't going to let small details like rationality stop him.)

But how to wake him? Kicking him would probably just hurt his foot. Maybe he should attack it after all?

...A small attack. Calling up what looks like a miniature spearhead made of darkness, he fires it at the side of the snoring(??) metal box. On impact, it explodes... gently. All in all, it's only about as much force as roughly shaking someone's shoulder would be. A bit more noisy, though (unless your shoulder-shaking involves any kind of metallic clang, in which case, it's exactly as noisy as expected).]

Uh...

[Hakuno pauses, a small, chocolate-coated cream puff inches from her lips as she startles back. After a moment of delayed shock, her cheeks go as red as her dress.]

I-I'm sorry, are you talking to me?

[Truth be told, the house doesn't have much sign that it's where Papyrus lives. It's a large, stuffy, formal sort of noble house, with a lot of lingering signs of Liliana having lived there. Now it's just Chandra, and only very recently Papyrus - since the rescue. And thanks to the fires, and the loss of many of his possessions, he just doesn't have the little knickknacks to start spreading around.

Still, he's left his mark in little ways already. The shared areas are cleaned and neatened to the skeleton's standards, a use of restless energy that anyone could appreciate. And the couch... Well. After his first night 'home' featured nightmares, and half-shifting, and wrecking the offered bedroom - like he used to wreck his own on full moons, before bonding with Chandra? Now he sticks to the equally stuffy, formal couch, in a common area that smells like friends and food and safety. This way all he's doing is shedding - and occasionally chewing the lacy black cushions in his sleep.

So when Papyrus returns, he's fresh from a little shopping trip. A couple ingredients for cooking tonight, but mostly: new cushions. A little apology for wrecking the others with sleep gnawing, even if Chandra had laughed and said she didn't like them anyway. This set's a mix of shades of orange, the better to hint at flames - and hide any hairs shed on it.

He puts the groceries away first, but it's only a moment or two later that he heads to the couch... and discovers his unexpected guest.]

Huh..? Mettaton?

[Briefly, he rubs at his eyesockets and looks again. No, the robot's really there. Seemingly without power, no signs of injury or forced entry or mysterious ransom notes.]

Are you okay??

You're right. How could you say yes if you haven't even picked it out yet...? Haha.

[Deliberately misinterpreting her rejection. Mettaton plants a hand on his hip. He's looking better by the day, but not in any tangible way. It's in the fluidness of his posturing, like the pain's going down.]

Pick whatever you want, and I'll get it for you. Pick five flavors, even! How's that sound? [Because he's determined to frame this as a date! Mettaton is absolutely loaded, especially with that Rathmore settlement.] Then you won't have an excuse not to share with me.

[Mettaton blinks. Then, he laughs against the backs of his fingers, the truest princess laugh.]

Oh, honey. Do they not have dates, where you're from...? What do you do, jump directly into marriage?? It wouldn't surprise me that romance takes on different shades, from wor- star to star.

[Another pause.]

And you haven't even thought about taking your Bonded on a date, then...? My, my.

Oh. Yes, we could, but...

[Being able to eat is one thing, and it's something he doesn't realize is becoming more than just a thing he can do for dramatics. Mettaton's eye widens, and he leans forward with curiosity. He connects the dots suddenly, remembering Connor's mention of Hank looking for him while they were in the Rathmore's cells. That's right! They do know each other!]

Did you know? I met Hank, when I first escaped... Back then. [Mettaton points to his arm.] He healed me. Did something to my arm... Really, I don't think I'd still have a hand if I hadn't crossed paths with him!

[Bread. Mettaton motions to it.]

Bread. A dry, basic flavor. [Oh, man. He could try this flavor now...! Bread has never been more exciting.] Is that what Hank likes?

Edited (FORGIVE ME, Connor already mentioned Hank by name!) 2020-02-13 10:58 (UTC)

[Noisy indeed, and it's less the impact and more the noise that startles Mettaton to alertness. He's developing sensation more prominently than ever, but his classic body continues to experience it more dully than his other bodies, hardy as it is.]

ZZZZ— OH!

[Startled, Mettaton's arms shoot out from his side as he's reanimated from the depths of slumber. His screen flickers to life in an assortment of yellows and reds, though he doesn't move from his spot just yet. He does the equivalent of blinking away the sleepiness by... rubbing his monitor as if he has eyes. Once he drops his fists, it settles in a solid yellow color.

Did Emet-Selch just... attack him?? He didn't even need to look to know he was nearby, oddly enough — in fact, just as he awoke he found himself dreaming him up as his magical signature drew close. This is undeniable evidence to Mettaton that it's not as though the Ascian doesn't recognize him. There's no doubt about it: he knows this is Mettaton!

His screen goes angry red, and he wags a finger at him as he plants his fist against the approximation of his hip.]

MY MY. I DIDN'T KNOW YOU POSSESSED SUCH AN IMPECCABLE BEDSIDE MANNER. WE ALL LOVE TO BE AWOKEN FROM OUR VERY REAL, ACTUAL SLEEP BY MILD EXPLOSION! THAT'S AN INTERESTING WAY OF FLIRTING... DO YOU ALSO ENJOY BEING AWOKEN BY ATTACK?

[Noted and noted. If he ever wants to wake up Emet-Selch, he'll do it by force.]

[Isn't she just charming, in an ensemble so suited to their surroundings... Mettaton nods, pressing his fingertips against his chest.]

My attention's all yours, darling. I'm Mettaton! No need to be shy... I thought it would be a great way to know some new faces.

[But there's another motive yet, aside from company. He adores being in the presence of others, but there's more to choosing her than his curiosity in her. He glances at her cream puff.]

And, well... I'll be frank with you. I seem to have developed a sense of taste, which I've never had before! With so many sensory bouquets to indulge in, I thought it best to take this as a grand opportunity to share it with somebody else... On a date. Just my luck that it's with someone so lovely!

[The sound of Papyrus's voice is enough to rouse Mettaton, who boots to life with a flicker of yellow and red on his monitor. His arms stop being so limp, and he makes a motion like stretching, though he certainly has no muscles to stretch in those dryer vent hoses he calls arms. Where was he again...?

Ah. Unfamiliar house. Papyrus. Papyrus... If there's anything odd about sleeping, it's the weird haze that lingers when one comes to.]

OKAY? I'M... [Hm. That doesn't like the response he wants to give. He tries again, pushing himself off of the couch with his hands and landing on the wheel he's just deployed.] OH YES! I'M BETTER THAN EVER, PAPYRUS-DARLING. BUT NEVER MIND THAT!

[He really is doing much better. From the healing, to the repairs, to the alchemical enchantment so many Mirrorbound helped him with the month before... If only he didn't have the mental burden of torture! But he's pretty good at ignoring that.]

I WANTED TO CHECK UP... ON YOU! LAST I SAW YOU, YOU WEREN'T... IN THE BEST SHAPE. [He presses his palm against the side of his body, like one might if they were nursing their head.] NONE OF US WERE. HAVE YOUR SILVER-INDUCED WOUNDS HEALED UP?

[Oh good, that worked. Emet-Selch wasn't sure what he would've done if it hadn't; possibly just walked around him and left it for someone else to discover and deal with. Either that or attack harder, but- how strong was all that metal? It would probably be considered rude to blast a hole through one's Bonded.

But if he'd had any remaining doubt that the Mystery Box was in fact Mettaton, said box's response removed it. Which left him with several questions in turn: why, and how?

The robot's other body had seemed in terrible shape... perhaps he'd abandoned it and found a new shell to inhabit? Was it possible for ghosts (or ghost-like entities) to change hosts after all...?]

You'll just have to forgive me; I'm unaware of the etiquette involved in rousing metal boxes found dozing in front of my house.

[Though if he were ever woken up in return in a similar manner... it would be deserved. And quite possibly necessary; the Ascian tended towards the heavier sleep.

But he's undaunted by the ominously red screen, a bit curious as to how this new form worked. Did the screen count as 'eyes'? How could it hear? Was it mechanical at all, or just an empty shell with a ghost in it? And those words- 'real, actual sleep'- he'd focus on that first.]

Just as I'm unaware that machines required- or for that matter, were capable- of true sleep. Though if you were hoping to remain undisturbed, I would suggest finding somewhere more private in future.

Hmm... [She's more focused on working out what do choose. So much selection. Normally her choices were limited to, bad or none. It's always a site to see new foods in all their colours and smells.

Wait. ]

Huh? I don't-- What do you mean 'you'll get it'?

[Squints! ]

[OoooOOOOH— The nerve! To still refer to him as a "metal box" despite knowing better! They're Bonded! Mettaton emits a flat, mechanical noise of disapproval that is reminiscent of a floppy drive chewing on a little bit of data, quiet enough to be easily ignored but still there.

He'll forgive him once he gets his revenge. It honestly wasn't even bad, but Mettaton's choosing to be vengeful.

Emet-Selch's advice on sleeping destinations goes heard, but not listened to, because Mettaton knows he'll sleep wherever he wants. Still, he can use the mention of his sleeping location to his advantage. Mettaton rises, deploying the single pole which he stands upon to stand at his full height... which is far shorter than his other form by a long-shot. He rocks back and forth to remain upright effortlessly, before gesturing to the very location he found the Witch on the day of their Bonding.]

COMING FROM SOMEBODY WHO I FOUND SLEEPING IN HIS OWN YARD, IN THE SNOW, WITH FULL TEMPERATURE SENSITIVITY? AH HA HA. THAT'S RICH.

[He sleeps where he wants.]

YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT I VASTLY PREFER BEDS, LIKE A NORMAL PERSON! HOWEVER... [He uncrosses his arms to strike a thoughtful pose.] I'VE FOUND MYSELF ENJOYING THE WONDERS OF WHAT I BELIEVE IS ACTUAL SLEEP. YES!! THE REAL DEAL! NOT SIMPLY PRETENDING TO SLEEP.

[He's done that, too. That's pretty much all he's ever done, if he wasn't powered off. Even then he's had some weird sense of awareness.]

YOU'RE RIGHT... MACHINES DON'T REQUIRE SLEEP. A BATTERY CHARGE? ABSOLUTELY! BUT I HAVEN'T DONE THAT IN MONTHS... YOU CAN SEE WHAT MY NATURAL CONCLUSION LEADS ME TO SUSPECT. WITH THIS PAST FULL MOON, IT'S BEEN DIFFICULT TO RESIST THE SIREN SONG OF SLUMBER.

[Oh, they just have a different name than what she has heard. She's read about them and has heard the thing mentioned a few times.]

Oh, you speak of courting then? That does exist where I hail from.

[And never mind addressing the 'taking your Bonded on one', it's finding something that the ascian would enjoy and keep to the idea of what he likes. Or so she believes.]

[ After a quick visit to the public restroom, Stiles goes to leave while shaking dry his hands. When he pulls open the door, there’s…a big metal box blocking the entranceway. Blinking, he slowly closes the door shut on the bizarre sight. What the hell. After a moment, he reopens the door cautiously – and yep, the big metal box is still there. ]

Uh, HELLO? [ he calls out, trying to be heard around the obstruction. ] Who moved a vending machine in front of the bathroom!?

[ No one answers. He is alone. Trapped, like a rat. This is how Stiles Stilinski will die: starved to death in a godforsaken bathroom with only bad graffiti to keep him company. Oh, but maybe the vending machine has snacks inside it…? It seems to be off and Stiles can’t quite see the outline of any items inside it, but…

Well, Stiles has experience with vending machines. Time to show this one who’s boss. Grasping its screen, he begins to shake on it with a vengeance. He wants those damn Cheetos! ]

[That sound of- irritation? Thought processes?- gets a mildly amused look. The Ascian wasn't familiar with machine-based-mood-noises, but it didn't strike him as a pleased sound. Had he annoyed him? Good. ...Probably.

The comment on his own choice of napping locations gets an eyeroll but he decides it's not worth the hassle of arguing that he hadn't been asleep at all, and besides it was his own yard, he could do whatever he liked in it. Unlike certain robots who found it appropriate to block the path of houses they didn't even reside in. How very rude.

But the extending pole-leg at least answered the question of how Mettaton had managed to deposit himself in his yard to begin with. The self-maneuverability of metal boxes had never been something to occur to Emet-Selch as worth considering, but he would've assumed it to be very poor. The pole, at least, made the idea somewhat more feasible. What else was he hiding in there?]

Oh? Congratulations. If you're sleeping ever more, perhaps one day soon you won't wake up at all. [He. Actually means that in a positive way, despite the dryness of his tone. Unconsciousness was good, it was the Ascian's favorite part of every day.] I've slept for years at a time myself, I do recommend it.

[But that was interesting... as though the magic of this place had gradually turned a need for external power to something that could be handled internally, as any living creature. A side-effect of the transformation into a living monster? Would food, or for that matter breathing become necessary as well?]

But I can't help but notice you've become somewhat more geometric than I remember. My vision may only be half of what it was, but I don't think that accounts for this.

I'll buy it. [He rolls his eye, like this should be obvious, but he's still smiling.] For you! On me. You act like you've never had somebody buy you some ice cream...

[Neither has he? But that's for obvious reasons. It happens in movies, so surely it happens to humans frequently. Let Mettaton enable a billion saccharine bad decisions.]

With so many flavors to choose from, you can't afford not to pick whatever strikes your fancy!

Dating is only part of the courting process... It's doing something fun together, that you both enjoy! [Or, he guesses, that only one party enjoys. But that doesn't occur to him to say, because he'd sneer if he did.] Or just spending time in each other's intimate company... It doesn't have to be a grand ordeal. Nor does it have to be serious!

[His idea of a romantic date is a grand ordeal, in that wild mind of his.]

In this case, my dating you... Is without a desired end goal. Sorry, darling. Please, don't take it personally. But we'll never know our compatibility if we don't, right?? [He points at her chocolates with a more playful look.] Besides. I want one of those.

YES... YOU'VE NOTICED MY OTHER "SHAPELY" BODY. [Get it? 'Cause it's geom... Yes. He runs his hands down its edges, displaying a red heart upon his monitor.] THIS IS MY ORIGINAL FORM! A CLASSIC FAVORITE, COMPLETE WITH ENTICING CORNERS AND SURFACES SO SMOOTH, IT SIMPLY BEGS TO BE KISSED. AHAHA.

[Different body, same old Mettaton.

No, back up! Mettaton's easily distracted by talking about himself, and his screen blinks from an amiable yellow, to red, to yellow again. Who on earth would hope he'd slip into unconsciousness and never wake from it? That would be terrible! He wouldn't like that at all. And he'd have half a mind to laugh it off and tell him he's wishing for the impossible considering his functional immortality, but it's Emet-Selch's self-disclosure that agitates Mettaton most. It's well wishes, true congratulations, and hoping he, too... could achieve such slumber? Why, that's basically hoping for death.

That's a lot to unpack.

He wheels closer to Emet-Selch with a suddenness, once more placing his hands on his hips.]

AND AS MUCH AS I LOVE TO TALK ABOUT MYSELF... I'LL ONLY REWARD YOU WITH SUCH DISCUSSION AFTER I REACH SOME CLARITY! WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU'VE SLEPT FOR YEARS AT A TIME??? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT SOUNDS LIKE, EMET-SELCH?

[Does he know what excessive sleeping sounds like.]

[The simple blinks surely tell of how brokenhearted she is at the prospect. Oh, okay then.

Besides, she already got intimate with the mentioned Bondmate a couple times already so been there, done that. There...might be some ideas but not huge ones. After all, it was the small gestures that speaks the loudest.]

Oh, I believe I understand it a bit better now.

[But when he points to the chocolates, it's pure luck. Mira does indeed hand him a small box that will have three chocolate pots with different types of flavored chocolate mousse.]

Truly you are lucky since I did make these for you. I was not sure at first but since you had tea without being harmed, maybe these will bring some enjoyment.

I've only had ice cream once... And that's expensive. I can't afford to pay you back.

[She wasn't sure why she was so worried about making that clear. It'd been a small nagging thing since she got here.

And she's not mentioning any flavors until that's cleared up.]

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feb catch-all

closed for @spaghettimonster

closed for @textsfromhotland

2 but I get the feeling 3 is going to come up

2 duh

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1.A

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♥

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1A – tho it was very hard to pick with so many amazing prompts

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