the goosebumps start to raise
firaga productions
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Random ass little soma drabble thingies.
I pretty much such at titles.
No clue if/when I'll update this, though I've already got my favorite one mostly written and one more about halfway. So maybe.
Soma is p'much my life you guys. Author's note is basically longer than the drabble.
Title comes from Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood.
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i | the toast announces its arrival with a loud popping sound, and she scoops up the two pieces, butters each liberally just as he likes them ...
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1. morning routine
"Good morning, Soul," she says as cheerfully as ever, waltzing into their shared kitchen and pouring herself a glass of milk. He manages a grunt from his seat at their little round table, and she has to stifle her giggle as she pops 2 pieces of toast into the toaster and leans against the counter.
He's always been useless in the mornings, isn't even aware of his own existence and consciousness until he's had a cup of coffee and some breakfast, and it's not a surprise that he's still in his black and grey plaid boxers and a ratty old t-shirt, hair still a matted mess from sleep the night before, staring blankly at the salt and pepper shakers they keep in the middle of the table. And Maka is a striking contrast, teeth brushed, hair combed and partially pulled back from her face, school uniform neatly pressed and backpack ready beside the front door. The toast announces its arrival with a loud popping sound, and she scoops up the two pieces, butters each liberally just as he likes them, pours 2 steaming mugs of coffee, and sets the toast and one mug in front of Soul with a soft smile before adding 2 more slices of bread to the toaster and sitting down across from her partner.
He blinks sleepily a few times before the smell of the coffee finally reaches him. He grunts again, reaches a hand forward, and raises the mug to his lips. He takes a long drink of the coffee, swallows, pauses, and immediately grimaces.
"Ugh, Maka!" he spits out, jumping out of his seat and yanking open the refrigerator door. "You know I hate black coffee!"
She smiles innocently at her partner. "Oh, but Soul, I thought you liked it! I'm so sorry.."
"Piss off, Tiny Tits, you know all too well how I like my coffee."
He grumbles to himself as he fills the mug liberally with half-and-half and sugar, something about 'lousy meisters' and 'no-good-dirty-rotten tricksters' reaches the meister's ears, and she smiles even more widely as her weapon partner scrambles back into his seat, coffee finally doctored to perfection, before raising his eyes to glare darkly at her.
"You did that on purpose."
"You're awake now, aren't you?"
"Hn...asshole."
She grins at her partner cheekily as he angrily stuffs toast into his mouth, coffee mug in her hands, and her partner manages another glare in her direction but the effect is ruined by the toasted stuffed in his cheeks and the crumbs of bread stuck in on his unshaven chin. And he's right, she did it on purpose, but he'll forget this happened by tomorrow morning so he'll fall for it yet again, and the morning routine will continue as usual.
Maybe she'll buy bagels on her way home from class today. Lord knows they could use a break from the toast.