Donut shop part 1, by: PhobicNova (HELLA OLD AND PRETTY CRINGE)

I walked down the white-spotted cement, my shoes occasionally letting out a small squeak. The slow and quiet rustling of the trees made it rather soothing to walk in suburban Florida, with its large, swaying palm trees and the many other trees that dotted the place. It was surprising how many trees there were.

A small, faint chirp jerks me out of my thoughts. Were my shoes that loud? I stop and, sure enough, the sound persists. Interesting. I go a bit closer to the sound; it was too small to make out.

A sigh greeted my sight to a small, white fluffball with a dark brown mane. Looked cute, but things like them were a hell-hole to deal with. Closer examination revealed that the tiny, chirping thing was an alicorn. I’ll be damned, I guess I have a spaghetti-loving pony with a lisp.

I pick the thing up, to which it decides to take a dump. Should’ve expected that goddammit! Still hasn’t even opened its eyes. Must’ve been abandoned by its mother, proving it wasn’t from a herd. It would’ve been mincemeat if it was. Goddamn smarties are useless, pains in the ass that have no sense of empathy whatsoever. The only purpose they have is being thrown into those sink disposals that grind up your food and stuff. Or be used as food, for that matter. Probably taste like ass, though.

The foal chirped in my hand as I made the walk back home. I just wanted to squish it against my cheek, but it was covered in either dirt, shit, or both. A bath would be needed if I had any chance of not getting some sort of disease from petting it. Hell, I’m not a hugboxer by any means, but I have a soft spot for certain fluffies. Some are fuckin’ adorable, and I just have the urge to squish.

. . .

I closed the door behind me, my hand feeling like a landfill. I turned on the sink and put the foal in a strainer, as to not drown the thing. Either it’ll make a cute companion or a goldmine, either way, I don’t want it dying. The water was lukewarm and at a gentle spray so that the foal doesn’t shiver to death. I grabbed some hand soap and scrubbed at its absurd fluff, making sure to avoid putting too much pressure on the tender spots. These things were fragile, but thankfully I had some milk on hand. It wasn’t from a fluffy, but it’ll have to do. Besides, cow milk has more calcium. It’ll at least make the thing a little less likely to break its skull on a dresser.

The thing peeped and shivered, and I guess I made it a little too cold. Either way, I put it in a towel and rubbed the thing. Soon enough, it was dry and… poofy. Very poofy. A literal fuckin’ pom-pom. It opened its eyes and looked directly at me through its fluff… somehow. I only just noticed the caramel and pink-colored spots and the beige snout. Reminded me of neopolitan ice cream.

“Ah! I’ll call you Neo, you adorable little bastard!”

“Bweeee!” It cheeped as I plopped it on my head. I put a hat over its body so that it didn’t fall or complain about “dawkie sowwy bawks.”

“Why don’t we grab donuts, little guy?”

Sorry if this is a little short, I just did this on a quick break from school. I’ll make longer parts in the future! :smiley:

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Aww. neopolitan icecream fluffy.

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Awww! I love well-written hugbox! So cute!

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A

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