marshmallow friends

It starts like this.


We are sitting on the lounge floor in our pajamas and it’s a Wednesday night. There are half empty pizza boxes littered on the table and the credits of a 2 hour long movie is rolling in the background, long forgotten. Eyes heavy from sleep deprivation and exhaustion, and 9 am lectures in the morning, yet here we are and we’re talking about everything and anything, our insides jiggling with laughter. It’s baffling how easy this is; how in the span of a mere month that we’ve been here, this feels like home already. Tucked away on the second floor apartment in our snugly little blankets with steam rising from the marshmallow laden hot chocolates in our hands, this is how most of our nights start like.


It starts like this and God, I don’t want it to ever end.

—  soulful nights // uni years 
youtube

New Video! Made Lego Marshmallow Pops with my friend @ijustine

Making Friends

Marshmallow-Manju gave me the prompt ‘magic, snails, and bruised knuckles’ and this is what I came up with.

Making Friends

Matthew flicked the snail back into the cauldron and straightened his pointed hat with his other hand.  He squinted at the grimoire floating in front of his face.  

“Snips, and snails, and puppy dog tails…”  He muttered, turning the page with a flick of his wrist.  “That can’t be right…”

His mentor had told him to go out and make some friends his own age.

He had taken her advice to heart.

“Oh well.”

He stirred the bubbling pink mixture counterclockwise and lowered the heat until it popped and simmered and darkened.  It was almost red now.  He stood on his tiptoes and peered into the cauldron.  

He had never had a friend before.  His parents had brought him to the old witch when he was four years old and the magic started leaking out between his fingertips and toes.  He lived with her in a thatched hut in the forest and the children in the nearest village laughed whenever the two of them passed through with bundles of dried flowers and clinking, clacking bottles.

So he would just have to make a friend from scratch.

The cauldron started to tremble and shake and Matthew stepped back, raising his arms when it flashed a brilliant white, and tripping over the hem of his cloak.  He toppled backwards into shelves of mint and ragweed.  The jars crashed around him.

“Are you okay?”

Matthew gasped and pushed his hat back into place.  

There was a naked boy standing in the cauldron.  He was paler than he should have been, maybe, and his eyes were the same colour as the bubbling mixture but he was grinning at Matthew.  His elbows were scratched and rubbed raw and his knuckles were bruised.

He looked just like all the little boys in the village who fought and climbed trees and rolled around in the grass.

“Yes!” Matthew scrambled up and helped pull the boy out of the cauldron. “I’m sorry!  Are you okay?”

“I think so.”

Matthew draped his cloak over his shoulders.

“Do you have a name?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe.  I feel like I have a name.”

“You can pick!  My name is Matthew.  I didn’t get to pick.”

The boy closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again and cackling.

“Gilbert!”  He said.  “I feel like a ‘Gilbert’!”

“That’s a wonderful name.”

Gilbert put his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest in pride.

“Of course it is.”

“Do you…”  Matthew bounced and fidgeted with nervous excitement.  He really liked Gilbert.  He wanted Gilbert to like him too.  “Do you want to be my friend?  I’ve never had a friend before.  You would be the first.”

Gilbert puffed up even more.

“Then I’m going to be your bestest best friend ever.”

  • 5sos: IT STARTED ON A WEEKEND IN MAY
  • me: yaaaas bitch
  • 5sos: I WAS LOOKING FOR ATTENTION NEEDED INTERVENTION
  • me: mE AS HELL
  • 5sos: FELT SOMEBODY LOOKING AT ME
  • me: fUcK ME UP
  • 5sos: WITH A POWDER WHITE COMPLEXION FEELING THE CONN-
  • me: oh. powder white. i see. :/
Vore Prey Asks
  • Nom: How do you feel about preds giving you a little nibble or two (not enough to hurt, though)?
  • Mmm: Have preds ever told you what you taste like? Do you have any clue how you taste to predators?
  • Audio: Do stomach noises intimidate you when you're trapped inside, or relax you?
  • Company: Would you rather be eaten alone or with a friend?
  • Marshmallows: Does it bother you when preds ingest you when there's already food in their stomach?
  • Regrets: Do you ever have that moment when you regret letting your guard down around a predator?
  • Beat: How do heartbeats make you feel?
  • Situated: How long does it take you to make yourself at least remotely comfortable?
  • Pounding: When someone ingests you without your consent, do you relax and try to find a way out calmly or make a major fuss and unleash hell on their innards?
  • Whoops: How do you feel about accidental Vore, and do you blame the predator for it?
  • Explanation: Do you think preds need to tell you why they swallowed you?
  • Sorry: If a predator apologizes, do you forgive them?
  • Zzz: Do you end up falling asleep inside your predatory captors? Why? If no, why not?
  • The Fear: Are you phased by Vore, or are you perfectly comfortable with sliding down a predator's throat?
  • Picky: If you had to pick anyone you knew or looked up to to swallow you, what person would that be and why?
  • Bro: Do certain friends swallow you to show affection?
  • Metabolism: Are you easy-to-digest or indigestible?
  • Hard to Stomach: Do you typically force preds to spit you out?
  • Cocoon: Are stomachs a calming or unnerving place to be?
  • Pain Relief: Do you ever go down and try to cure a predator buddy's illnesses?
word choice

summary: Lucy is not amused that she has to babysit Erza’s brats after soccer practice today, especially after Erza explains that Jellal is “distracting” her. Jerza. Implied Nalu.
rating:
M. Your imagination can make it higher, I’m sure.
also posted on: Fanfiction

notes: Originally going to be <500 words. Oops. Relatively experimental writing. Not my usual and I’m not sure if it should be called fluffsmut or smutfluff. Or just plain smut.
more: Also, yes, I know it’s Angst Week. My muse likes to oppose me.


Erza falls directly into her bed when she comes home from work.

She feels worse than the wilted carrots that sit in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator, still unable to participate in one of the week’s dinner stews—and when she remembers about the vegetables, she huffs again into her pillow, remembering that she still has to get started to working on dinner…

Not to mention she still has to pick up the kids from soccer practice in about twenty minutes.

So she kicks off her heels and rolls completely under the cover and between the sheets, making her body as comfortable as it can lie in her business casual pants and button up shirt. She rubs her eyes, blinking against the afternoon sun, but she lets the light warmth settle over her body.

She channels her inner house cat and closes her eyes. She decides to nap for just a moment, reaching her hands down to the waist of her pants to shimmy them down as she starts to fall…

fast…

fast…

asleep…

.

.

.

“Hey.”

No. Just…one…more—

“Erza.”

“Mmrph, Jellal—“ Her eyes open and she sees his face on the other side of the pillow.

He smiles in amusement. “Good morning, love.”

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