Q:Hey! I was wondering if you were taking any prompts? Could you write some more fem!soma, preferably at a sleepover/seven minutes in heaven sort of deal? Nsfw? Please, if you're not too busy? Thank you!
This is gonna come out fluffy instead of smutty…hope ya don’t mind anon!
Maka didn’t know why she bothered to come in the first place.
She and Tsubaki had been friends since 6th grade, both coming from Japanese families and understanding the experience of blending into the American society. They also lived on the same block, almost always inviting each other over for green tea and reminiscing about their lives left far away.
So when Tsubaki invited her over for a sleepover, Maka immediately grew wary at the mention of an extra body that was coming as well. She soothed Maka in that way she always had, and convinced her that yes, this girl was going to be fine. Six billion other people inhabit the earth, Maka might as well try to get to know at least one of them.
Dear God she tried not to blanch.
But when she saw Soul Evans (“Soulie” being her ridiculous nickname she insisted to be called by) standing in Tsubaki’s living room, her skin did a wonderful impression of said nightmare’s platinum hair.
Luckily she was whisked away to the bathroom in a blur of a black ponytail and apologetic sapphire eyes, murmuring something about placing her body-washes inside the shower. Maka was left to contemplate how Tsubaki was able to stand a pretentious, foul-tempered princess long enough to even think of allowing her into the sanctuary of her home. Besides, did she see the number of ear piercings she had? Maka was almost blinded by the glint of them all.
It’s just that… Soul was just so, so confident! She was so sure in the way she stylishly dressed, put up her hair, drew her eyeliner, everything. Like her white locks and ruby eyes, Soul was bold and proud of it. She even had the gaul to constantly call herself “cool”, the nerve really! In reality, Maka was envious of her and her ability to turn heads and not even care. How could Soul not care, not notice how she-
No, never mind that. She would not succumb to such petty thoughts! By her Junior year at Shibusen High, Maka should not be the one to start a cat fight, and a one-sided one at that. This sleepover would just be like any other. For the sake of their friendship (and her sanity), she could put aside her disappointment and utter distaste and try to make something positive out of the situation.
"Maka-chan! Here again, are we?"
She turned around and let her bags fall on the carpet, smiling at Tsubaki’s father just returning from work with some groceries in hand. He was likely going to attempt to make curry with the ingredients she could see peeking out. Attempt being a generous word.
"Mr. Nakatsukasa! It’s wonderful to see you again!" She took two bags without a word, and followed him into the kitchen. "Would you like me to help start dicing the onions?"
The middle aged man turned his head to smile back at her, their years of knowing each other making their conversation eased and friendly. He spoke to her in their native tongue, teasingly saying, “Well, if you insist. I’m a little glad you’re here; I’m not so sure how to cook this thing myself!”
Soul actually had a better time than she thought she would have. Tsubaki was a pretty cool chick, and when initially invited to spend the night, she saw no reason to say no to one of her good friends. It totally wasn’t because she knew that Tsubaki and Maka were inseparable, or that Maka regularly slept over at her place. It was pure coincidence, and Soul really couldn’t stand another minute in her stuffy, air-headed family’s house.
She was laying back on the floor, a couch providing a slightly uncomfortable backrest as she watched Pitch Perfect air on the flat screen for the second time that night. Tsubaki would have changed the movie, but none of the girls had enough energy to pick themselves off the floor. Maka’s knock-out curry and rice combo left them in a blissful food coma.
Tsubaki had already fallen asleep, as Maka had anticipated. Soul had asked why, and she explained that Tsu had always been an early sleeper since they were little. Soul looked at the TV screen and hummed in response, their only conversation not mediated by a worrisome ponytail already dead. Man, she sucked at this social thing.
Yet there she was, just an arms reach away on the floor. She was so close! Couldn’t Soul just turn her bitch-o-meter a little lower and try to say something nice?! Wasn’t this the reason why she agreed to come in the first place?
Maka Albarn, a Japanese/American honors student in her homeroom. The girl who could beat the shit out of you with just her words alone, her (awesome) combat boots unnecessary. Albeit nerdy, she ferociously fought to the top of each AP class, completed any extra credit possible, blew any and all competition away; the way she wanted to excel for no one but herself was unnerving. She was strange. She was annoying. She was purely frightening.
She was the loveliest thing Soul ever saw.
Shit. She chickened out! What did she think she was going to say anyways? But it was too late; Maka’s attention was already acquired.
Crap, maybe she should compliment her! “Uhm, your eyes are green.”
Soul didn’t try to hide her face palm.
Smiling slightly, Maka scratched her cheek modestly and spoke again. “So I’ve heard. And your eyes are red?”
"Burgundy." Soul sighed, her cool long gone which left her face warm. "In the sun, it looks a little red. People get that confused."
"Well, it looks nice."
"What? Did you want me to call you a demon-face instead?"
Soul bristled, countering, “If I’m a demon, then you must be a five year old brat!” She motioned to her blonde pigtails.
Maka tried to keep her voice as pissed off as possible without waking the entire house, the pleasantness in her face replaced by anger.
"How dare you…!"
"Or what, are those pigtails not as innocent as they seem? Looks like some kinky porn star shit to me."
"Is your mind always so filthy? I was trying to give you a compliment, but you just have to sour up every time someone interacts with you!"
"I could say the same about you!"
"Yeah, 'well!' you goddamn prick!”
"Don’t you fucking curse at me!"
The two matched grating stares, none the least bit interested in backing down. Soul looked to Maka’s side, seeing an open bag of Cheetos laying next to her. She made a grab for it, but Maka having already seen her motive took the chips with a swipe.
"What the hell? Give me some cheetoes!"
"No." She held the bag away with a grimace. "I saw them first!"
"I opened the bag."
"I bought it!"
"YOU’RE NOT THE FUCKING CHEETO QUEEN-!”
Serrated rage revealed in a snarl, Maka gave Soul one of her own growls as the latter pounced on her, intent on capturing the cheeto bag by any means. The spare blankets on the ground tangled them further, trapping them in their scuffle. Soul never knew how sharp normal people’s teeth were until Maka viciously bit her arm; even still her hand still held the bag in a vice grip. Returning the favor, Soul whipped back her white hair and gave the blonde a good headbutt to her lip.
A shrill cry later, Maka grabbed Soul’s stomach since it was the first thing she could find, but was surprised to hear a trill of giggles bubble from the other’s mouth. Suddenly, a hand was at her midsection, tickling relentlessly back, shouting complaints of “unfair” and “so not-cool, nerd!”.
Somehow the two girls were tumbling across the carpet, laughter and an occasional squeal replacing their battlecries, both still refusing to relent. The Cheeto bag was tossed aside, its contents littering the floor and subsequently in Maka and Soul’s clothing and hair. That fact only made the hilarity grow, wide smiles on both of their faces.
On the couch, Tsubaki wistfully sighed with her eyes still closed, the sound of rustling blankets, crunching cheetoes, and the two girl’s laughter lightening her spirit.
"It’s about time," she said quietly to herself.
Today in gym class we were doing major climbing and halfway up this girl freezes and goes “I CAN’T DO IT I CAN’T DO IT”
so some dude yells “MY AUNT SAID DAT AT HER WEDDIN’ BUT SHE MARRIED DAT FINE-ASS DOCTOR AND NOW SHE RICH AS HELL”
the girl did it. truly inspiring.
I should add that it was a shrimpy 5’1 Indian boy nobody had ever heard talk before who was apparently from the deep south.
finish this sentence: m
y body craves for the touch of mashed potatoes, the soft white flesh of the vegetable sliding over my body. i havent slept in fifteen days. only the beautiful rapturous gooey white semi solid plant matter inspires me to continue living. sometimes i like to imagine that the mashed potatoes have accepted me as their loving partner. oh can i dream.
What the actual fuck