#AvAM WDHC Melted Marshmallows

[sammy8d257]

Watered Down Hot Chocolate - an AvA/M series

created by Sammy8D257

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Purple's Childhood Hot Coco Recipe

Ingredients:

- 2 tablespoons baking cocoa

- 1 1/2 tablespoon sugar

- 1 cup milk

- 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract (Optional)

Directions:

1. In a microwave safe mug, combine the cocoa and sugar.

2. Slowly mix in the milk until the cocoa and sugar dissolve.

3. Microwave the entire thing on high for one minute or until hot.

(Optional) 4. Stir in vanilla extract to your flavor liking

NOTE: If you don't have milk, water works just fine.

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A.K.A.

A collection of stories exploring Purple's past, present, and potential future in a world of colorful stick figures, kings, games and more.

[Note: Hello! Sammy8D here! This is the Masterpost for my "Watered Down Hot Chocolate" series where I will be cataloging and organizing all the comics and fanfics I make for this series! Canon Compliant until proven otherwise. I hope you enjoy it!]

[LINK TO #AvAM WDHC]

[Ao3 LINK]

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AvAM WDHC: Melted Marshmallows

A collection of supplementary materials and side stories that are connected to the main stories but are not required to read to enjoy the WDHC series.

[LINK TO #AVAM WDHC MM]

[Ao3 LINK]

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Last Updated: Oct. 9, 2023

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Any general AvA Headcanons also apply to this AU! You can find my headcanons here ->

[LINK TO #AvA Headcanon]

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- Learned Behavior

Status: Complete

Word Count: 1.7k words

Summary: Growing up, Purple learned many things. Like how to cook, how to clean, and how to block a punch to the head so you don’t get a concussion. All valuable skills in their own humble opinion. Though, the most important lesson Purple ever learned was that they weren’t good enough.

[Tumblr Post Link] || [Ao3 Link]

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- In the Week that Follows

Status: Chapters 1/9 complete

Word Count: ??

Summary: When King woke up to a pile of neatly folded blankets and pillows but no purple stick figure in sight, he tried not to feel disappointed. It made sense. Of course Purple wouldn't want anything to do with him. Aside from the week they spent preparing to capture those desktop stick figures, they were practically strangers. More than that, Purple was a stranger that King nearly killed because of his own blind anger. One hug wasn't going to change getting disintegrated.

Yes, King decided with a sigh. Purple would be better off staying away.

Two hours later, the doorbell rang and King looked out the peephole to see Purple carrying a tote bag full of cleaning supplies.

A.k.a. King and Purple spend the week after AvM 30, cleaning King’s house.

[COVER + Chapters] || [Ao3]

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Melted Marshmallows:

- Excerpt from The Differences of Created and Natural Parenthood: Examining the effects of parental origin on child rearing

An excerpt from a fake academic study looking at the effects of being a created stick and a born/natural stick has on raising a child.

-Bed - AvA Sticktober Day 9

How King's bed ends up outside his room. (This takes place a few months after Gold gets disintegrated into Minecraft.)

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MORE TO COME!

[sammy8d257]

Likes - AvA Sticktober 2024 Day 2

Part of the AvA/M Watered Down Hot Chocolate Series: A Melted Marshmallow Side Story

Written by Sammy8D257

Word Count: 700 CW: Little self-deprecating from Purple (Just like, Purple's view on things is a little wonky because of course it is, and it drives their course of action, so just be aware of that)

Summary: Purple likes things. They like things a lot. You could even call it one of their defining traits. They like hanging out with their friends, they like cooking with King. They like shiny things and they like flying.

Purple likes things. But there is something that they like the most.

[AvA STICKTOBER 2024 LIST]

[Ao3 Ver.]

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Purple likes things. They like things a lot. You could even call it one of their defining traits. 

They like their friends. They like how fun it is to hang out with them. They like how passionate Red is, how adventurous Green is, how clever Yellow is, how savvy Blue is, and how huggable Orange is. They like their house and they like their desktop. They even like Mr. Becker a little bit too.

They like living with King. They like being his roommate and being able to share a space with him. They like his kitchen and they like filling the fridge with leftovers that they can eat later.

They like objects. They like powerful objects and they like things to show off with. But they also like small, weird objects. They like how King jokingly referred to it as "bird behavior" when a small pile of shiny stones and pretty trinkets started appearing by the door. He grumbled about it, calling it a tripping hazard but he hasn't removed it yet, so Purple thinks King likes it too. 

Liking things is easy for Purple. They've always been greedy. And who could blame them? There are just so many things to like in this world. But despite all that, there is one thing that Purple likes the most.

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The bubbling of the pot in front of them almost masked the shuffle of footsteps on the wooden floor. Purple didn't need to turn around to know who had just entered the kitchen. So they kept stirring the spaghetti sauce as the sounds of King's arrival came to a quiet stop.

"Hey, I got your message and uh- Holy cursors, Purple did you make all this food?"

Purple nodded sharply, cutting a glance to the countertops full of various dishes and desserts. They turned their attention back to the sauce and lifted the spoon to their mouth to taste. It was good.

A sigh from behind and the scrap of the chair informed them that King had sat down at the table. With a hum, Purple turned the stove burner off and carefully placed the pot on a corkboard on the counter. Next to it were two plates of noodles that Purple quickly layered the marinara sauce onto with their spoon. 

Without a flourish, the plates of spaghetti were picked up and placed gently on the kitchen table, one in front of King and one on the opposite side where they would sit. King tracked their movements, tired eyes searching for things that Purple wasn't going to let him find. They sat down at their spot and picked up their fork, eyeing King until he mimicked their movements.

An air of unease surrounded the kitchen as Purple continued to stare at King and King shifted his gaze to the food on the table. Finally, the orange stick figure lifted his fork and Purple couldn't help but lean in closer. That is until King abruptly stopped and met their eyes.

"Purple, I'm-" King gripped his fork tighter. "I know I've been a little out of it these past few days and I, I know you've been having a bad week too. So I'm sorry I haven't really been here but if you need anything from me, you let me know alright?"

There was in fact something that Purple needed from King. 

"Taste the food." 

Purple looked at the stick figure expectantly and to his credit, King didn't react to their blunt command. Instead the fork relaxed in his grip and he swirled a bit of spaghetti into his mouth.

Immediately, his eyes widened and Purple preened. The tension from before almost disappeared completely.

"Do you like it?"

King swallowed and grinned at them. 

"Like it? I love it! Purple, this is amazing!"

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Yes, Purple likes things. They like a lot of things. From friends to cooking to objects, they like them so much. But the thing that they like the most is nothing that can be held or seen. Because the thing they like the most is;

"You did such a good job on this Purple! Now come on, this food isn't going to eat itself!"

Something to be earned.

[sammy8d257]

Bed - AvA Sticktober Day 9

Part of the AvAM Watered Down Hot Chocolate Series:

A Melted Marshmallow side story

Written by Sammy8D257

Word Count: 890

CW: None, although King is going through it rn

Summary: How King's bed ends up outside his room.

(This takes place a few months after Gold gets disintegrated into Minecraft.)

[AVA STICKTOBER 2023 LIST]

[Ao3 Version]

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It's not until he sees it out in the main room, that King realizes what he's done.

If he thinks hard enough, he can see the thought process leading up to this decision.

It starts like this.

King had just sold his couch. It was an old thing, well worn through years of use, but it was still soft and incredibly comfortable. He got a pretty penny off of it too.

So he sold it. He needed the money. Books and supplies and gathered pieces of metal weren't going to buy themselves. And he wasn't going to dip into the fund he saved for his kid's future. 

(Not yet. Doing so felt like betrayal. Or acceptance. Either way, it was not something he was willing to deal with. He wasn't that desperate. Not yet.)

So he sold the couch. It felt like the most logical next step. 

He didn't really need it. He spent most of his time on his feet, hunched over his desk or walking around the increasingly cluttered room. The only time he'd even use it was when one too many nights of sleep were skipped and he'd end up face first into its cushions. He never means to land there, his room being his goal but sleep is sleep, so who is he to complain when he finally gets it.

(Doesn't matter that he wakes up feeling worse than before. Doesn't matter that his shoulders ache and his head pounds. Doesn't matter that a voice in the back of his mind is screaming at him to stop, to actually get some rest, to eat, to grieve. Doesn't matter, because he has work to do.)

So he sells it. And the stick who comes to pick it up thankfully does not comment on the state of the rest of his house. They're young, younger than him but older than they would have been. They look like they have their whole life ahead of them.

They smile at him, thank him for the couch, and with the help of two friends, carry it out the door. King almost feels bad for overcharging them. But he needs the money and really, it's their own fault for buying it without considering the price tag. Oh well, he hopes they enjoy it.

So the couch is sold. What was once there, now stands a plain wall.

He won't admit it bothers him. Like an itch that persists at the back of his mind. It's one more thing gone from his life but that doesn't make sense. It was just a couch.

Life continues on as normal until another bout of sleepless nights hits and instead of soft cushions, his face meets hard wooden floors.

He sleeps there anyways, too tired to complain. Until morning comes and he wakes up stiff as the floor beneath him and he vows to never do that again.

He does it two more times in the coming weeks.

On the third time, he manages to catch himself on the wall. Through the haze of exhaustion his mind comes up with a solution for his problem.

He wouldn't need to sleep on the floor if he had his bed out here.

And with a sudden burst of manic energy, he stumbles into the hallway. Blindly reaching towards his door and ignoring the one situated right next to his.

King had always been strong, blessed by his original game creator with the power to rule a kingdom, so it's no issue as he lifts and pulls and drags his bed from the middle of his room out into the hall.

Why he didn't just go to sleep in the bed itself is a question that crosses his mind in the future, but that is of no concern to him at the moment. 

He loses pillows and blankets along the way, and he's pretty sure his door has scraps etched into its frame, but he finally gets it into the main room.

With one final shove, his bed is against the wall.

And King grins, nods his head as if satisfied with his work, and then promptly passes out next to the bed. 

He wakes up the next day with a killer headache and an empty stomach, so it takes him until lunch to realize his bed is now outside his bedroom and is situated where his couch used to be.

It takes him a minute to process the change. He glances into the hallway to see the carnage of bedding left in his sleep deprived mania. He cringes and reluctantly picks up the pieces and deposits them back on his bed. 

In all honesty, he doesn't know why he did this but it would be too much of a hassle to put it back and he is much too busy to find the time to do it. So the bed stays in its new spot up against the wall.

It isn't until another round of sleepless nights hits and King wakes up on his mattress feeling marginally better than he did before, that he decides this was one of the best decisions he made in a while. One problem solved.

And then he doesn't think about it anymore. 

Not until a certain purple stick figure comes barreling into his life with a large pink tote bag in hand.

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