1) meeting face-to-face for the first time
(i’m basing this off that conversation we had based off that “would you press the button” thing)
Frisk nervously twiddled their thumbs as they sat on the park bench in downtown- in the distance they could hear the belltower at their school playing out the usual hourly tune.
The town was usually filled with hustle and bustle at this hour- well, as hustling and bustling as a town with such a small population could be. But it was quiet- something that Frisk was quite grateful for.
They’d gotten a letter- written in bright pink gel pen- to meet at this location in their mailbox. After the series of awkward anons they’d gotten, using their full, old name, asking if they were that person, they’d gotten flustered and blocked them, only to finally get a message off-anon, asking if that was indeed them.
And then the message had arrived. If it was the same person that had caused all the shenanigans around school regarding them as of late, (he’d gone and asked to meet them, by name, on his talk show) then they had nothing to worry about- and if they did, there were, at least, people everywhere. So if they got too nervous, or tired of waiting, they could scamper off and hide.
Then they heard the footsteps- notably metallic against the stone streets.
“... You... really do prefer the name Frisk, don’t you, darling? It’s no wonder. Such a brave human would inspire anyone! Especially someone lovely as you.”
They jumped, turning around swiftly, being met with a smiling, seven-foot tall robot, wearing a jacket emblazoned with their school’s emblem on it- despite being so far from the magenta he loved, he was still wearing it proudly, a light pink glow from his cheeks.
“... I... it really is you. Mettaton?” They asked, almost cautiously. It felt odd, really, to be meeting someone they thought they’d never actually meet- and someone who was famous and had a massive crush on them, to boot.
“Yes. So I... I don’t have to keep looking now, do I?” His smile widened, and little hearts sprung up in his eyes. “I’ve found you, haven’t I?”
Frisk nodded, and immediately he scooped them up in the air, whirling around and laughing with joy.
“Darling, I think it might be a bad idea for me to actually eat.” Mettaton sighed, flipping through one of Frisk’s textbooks as he reclined on their bed. They were currently sitting at their desk, frowning at the computer, trying to figure out what kind of pizza to buy.
“And besides that, I could make you one myself. I assure you it’d be as delicious as you are beautiful.”
Frisk covered their face in embarrassment, managing to sputter that they just wanted him to give his opinion on what he thought would be best.
“I think I should make you dinner.”
“But I don’t have an oven.”
“... Remember what happened when I made tea?”
Ah yes, the great glitch incident of an hour ago.
Yep, microwaves were a bad idea.
