Disclaimer: I do not own Star Vs The Forces of Evil. It's a pretty good enough show as is, and it doesn't need a fanfic author telling it what to do. ...oh, I made myself sad...

Of Magical Wands and Safety Helmets
Nacho

Another Friday evening, another television-and-nacho binge.

Marco and Star found themselves in the familiar, comfortable setting of the Diaz family room. Their weekly ritual progressed as normal, a quiet and calm break in the normally hectic and haphazard 'schedule' of their lives. The only sounds between the two were the occasional laugh or comment at whatever mindless drivel they were watching and the overly loud munching of snack food.

A normal, happy end to a normal, happy day.

The two's hands would reach into the bowl stationed between them, scooping up the various nachos, cheese, and other goodies inside. Eventually, the level of food would lower to the extent that they had to start scraping the bottom to get at the last of the delectable bits. And then, finally, it happened.

Their searching fingers would just brush against each other as they alighted upon the last scoop of nacho and cheese. A pause, a stiffening of the spine, a catch of the breath. Marco and Star looked at each other, unable to break eye contact, unable to pay attention to anything else. Through the light skin contact, they could feel the other's trembling.

It was something that happened every week. But, to them, it was something that seemed to always feel like it was for the first time. This was something... special, pure, without equal. It was...

There was nothing that they could say, no words that could describe the complex and amorphous emotions that welled up from deep inside them at this simple, common occurrence. It would be foolish, cruel even, to even try.

And yet... nothing would happen if they did not, if they didn't try to put the situation to words. It was just something that had to be done, even if it couldn't be properly explained.

Marco opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and then opened it again. His tongue briefly darted out to wet his lips. When he did talk, his tone was questioning, strained. "...Star?"

The girl's breathing had quickened, her face starting to fully flush. It took all she had to just murmur a hum of acknowledgement without succumbing to her instincts.

He was not far off himself, an increasing amount of tension in his muscles. "...same as always?" he managed to choke out.

Star's actions answered for her. She launched herself at the boy.

A split-second later, the spell she'd been charging in her wand went off at the exact moment Marco's leg swept her legs from underneath her. The room exploded into a conflagration of fiery rainbows and manic screaming.

Because how else would they determine who got the last nacho?

A/N: Because, yeah, like you'd think this would be WAFFy in the slightest. I've come to accept, if not long suspected, I don't 'do' schmaltz. I might try, but it ends up being stupid rather than cute; and if that's the case, I'd rather make the stupid be on purpose than by accident. Besides, it's Marco and Star - the two are adorable with their insane interactions alone.