Starco prompt: Netflix and literally just chilling
Friendship Thursday wasn’t too much fun when, well, two of
the three participants were passed out 10 minutes into the show.
Star doesn’t mind…a lot, because it’s still Friendship
Thursday and she’s still with her friends – technically. She looks over at
Marco hunched against Ponyhead’s pink mane, mouth wide and snoring lightly. At
least they had a fun day – though whatever they managed to pick up at Emelio’s
Pizzaria could’ve used some…work, to say the least. She grimaces at the melty
slice that sits on the side table, untouched since her first bite.
Way too many
The Friendship Snuggly that she wore has managed to slip
down past her waist, and she’s much too lazy to bring it back up around her
shoulders and burry her nose into the blue cloth. Plus, she kinda wants a
sandwich, and maybe some fruit punch from the kitchen.
She stretches her arms out, pushing up toward the ceiling and
yawns, then stretches outwards next to her. Kitchen in mind, she begins the
slow process of getting up when a familiar head full of brown hair falls against
her side, onto her lap, startling her back to her seat. She looks over at where
her best friends previously were: Ponyhead’s moved closer to her, tilted in her
direction, and the movement must have sent him over to her for a more
comfortable sleep. What did they even do today
to be as tired as they were? Especially Marco, who seemed completely unfazed by
his new sleeping positon – in fact, taking light of it and nestling his head
against her leg.
Star brings her hand to his shoulder to shake him awake,
then pauses, tilting her head down to look at his sleepy form. His hair is
matted in the back, and he looks so tired yet content and, well, her fruit
punch can wait a little longer, right?
She takes a chunk of his hair and smoothes her fingers
through it, brushing out the knots and separating the strands into bundles of
threes, creating a loose little braid. A giggle escapes her as she looks at her
handiwork, twirling it around at the back of his head. Her other hand lightly
brushes against his bangs at his forehead, his breath even and mouth slightly
open with just a hint of drool, and she cards her fingers through his hair
before tucking it behind his ear. There, she traces tiny sketches from his ear
to his cheek with a gentle finger, her thumb gliding against his jawbone right
under it. And she swears he sighs, falling deeper onto her thighs, nestling his
nose into the fuzzy blanket, and has he always been this soft and gentle and –
“Uh, B-fly, what are you doing?”
Her arms unconsciously fly off his body and to her sides,
burned, as Ponyhead looks her and Marco up and down from under the blanket.
“Nothing!” Star laughs awkwardly, then remembers the
sleeping boy on her lap and lowers her voice. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Kinda looked like you were petting Earth Turd.”
She frowns. “I was not petting
him. And stop calling him that!”
“Why should I?”
“Because he isn’t an ‘Earth Turd.’”
Ponyhead gives her a knowing look, then raises an eyebrow at
the boy lying against her (her!)
bestie. “Looks like a turd to me.”
The horsehead blinks. “Because he’s cuter than a turd?”
“Yes!” Star exclaims, glaring at Ponyhead resolutely, until
it registers what she just said. She tricked her – a specialty of her Mewni
best friend. Ponyhead smirks at her, muzzle tilted to show she’s won, and Star
immediately panics – waving her hands back and forth because absolutely not, no
way, not possible - “Wait, wh-what
no! No, he isn’t – no. No.”
“I can’t believe
you think Earth Turd is actually –”
“Pony!” She doesn’t even register what she’s done until she
hears a yelp and groaning from the floor, where Marco now lay face planted at
an uncomfortable angle. She’s immediately next to him, apologizing for pushing
him off the couch and helping him up from the carpet.
If either of you could appear in Smash Bros., would you prefer being a full-on smasher or just be summoned through an assist trophy?
Pom: “OF COURSE WE WANT TO BE FULL-ON SMASHERS! WE’D BE THE COOLEST TAG TEAM SMASHERS THERE WAS! FORGET THOSE ICE CHUMPS!”
Pom: “But realisitically we’d be lucky just to get trophies at all in the next smash tournament. Assist trophy would be a long shot. Us minor bosses don’t get much attention in big titles like that. But we’re gettin’ there! Statin’ to see us in those sport tournaments!”
Pom: “SEE RIGHT THERE! THAT’S MY BRO! THAT’S MY BROOOOO!!! LOOK AT HIM HE’S A BIG TURTLE!!!”
We live in the Bloodborne AU in which scientists made contact with the Moon, but instead of turning us into beasts and eldritch abominations it just made it so 95% of the population can’t wear hats without looking like turds.
Check the dates, the general population stopped being able to pull off hats in 1969.
In May 2017, Stickland became engaged in an online feud with political columnist Virgil Texas, who compared Stickland’s large figure to that of a “disgusting glazed ham” and accused him of being a “Sig Sauerkraut-packing chud” after Stickland introduced a measure intended to punish children who identify as transgender. Stickland claimed his feelings were hurt by this comparison, and in return accused Texas of being intolerant.
Some commenters accused Stickland of being “a sentient turd” and claimed that he looks “like if Paul Blart hit the skids”. One user posited that Stickland should be more concerned with how such gendered bathroom bills might affect him, as he cannot see his own genitals.