A/N: Look who's back early!

But, Kelly! you might think. It's not SoMa Week just yet! Why on earth are you writing?

Turns out global crises make you pretty fucking bored. So...here's to temporary productivity? I won't guarantee this will lead to me writing thousands of new one-shots. But the odds HAVE gone way up. So here's some plotless, fluffy partner stuff to get us through these times! There's no real plot to this, just some snippets of domestic shenanigans.

Loathe you / Love you

She always burnt her toast. Always.

"Pleaaaase, Soul?"

"I'm not making you the literal easiest thing to make in the world! It's BREAD and HEAT, Maka!"

She laid her face down on the counter and groaned loudly. "But you make it better!"

He hated her. How was it fair that everyone considered his meister to be one of the smartest and most capable people at the Academy when she sucked at the simplest tasks? He couldn't even make fun of her in public for it because no one would believe him if he tried. She was Maka fucking Albarn. She was the top student in her class. She was a member of Spartoi. She helped save the world on the moon. She was pretending to cry into her arms because he wouldn't make breakfast for her.

Soul rolled his eyes so hard it physically hurt. "Fine, I'm gonna show you. One. More. Time."

Maka beamed. He hated her.

"First you turn the dial setting to three…"

"Stopppp!" Maka squealed, squeezing her eyes shut and slapping at Soul blindly. "I just took a showerrrr!"

She could feel Soul's fingers carding through her hair, still goopy from the gel on them. "It's a good look for you! You're not even giving it a chance!"

Maka kept her eyes closed, refusing to look at the awful things he must have been doing to her hair. "You're gonna make it all crunchy like yours!"

"Yeah, but you'll finally look cool!"

Their bathroom was too small for her to have many places to run without falling into the bathtub. She felt around the counter for her hairbrush but Soul was too smart for her. He'd hidden all her potential weapons before he started his hair product assault. Maka was tutoring NOT students in less than an hour and she needed to get READY, dammit.

She peaked one of her eyes open, but he spun her dramatically with a cackle before she could catch more than a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror.

Was it worth him to punch him in the gut? She felt him begin to slick her hair UPWARDS and decided it was.

Her punch was more of a dramatic poke, right in the center of his tummy, but it had the intended effect of slowing down his attack and turning his demented cackling into uncontrollable giggles.

"Stop—Maka stop, no that's not fair—I GIVE UP I'M SORRY—" he cried, hardly containing his breathless laughter.

Maka harrumphed in victory and turned around to see her reflection. She caught Soul Eater's look of fear above her head before he ripped open the door and ran.

Maka levelled her gaze with her reflection. She allowed herself three serene heartbeats. Then she tore after him.

She HATED him.

Soul lay very still on the couch.

"You're not gonna touch my butt, are you?"

The blush on her face was worth it. She scowled at him. "Could you be serious for one second?"

"What, pray tell, about this situation is serious?"

"I wanna know if I can do it!"

"Look, we've already gone over that you're very strong. I never argued with you about it! I don't see what this is proving."

Maka puffed her cheeks out in determination. Soul sighed in resignation.

"I want. To know. If I. Can. Do. It."

"Fine!" Soul waved his arms flippantly. "Let's just get this over with."

"Stop moving, then! You said you'd be dead weight."

Maka squatted in front of him on the couch, steely gaze fixated on him in determination as she slipped her arms beneath his bent knees and behind his shoulders. Soul closed his eyes and shot his tongue out of the side of his mouth to look the part.

"Stop trying to make me laugh," she said with a grunt. "That's not even how dead people look and you know it."

"I could stab myself if you wanna make it look more realisTIC—" Soul's voice shot up an octave when he felt himself rise from the couch. Holy shit. She was really doing it!

He dropped his "dead" act and opened his eyes so he could see Maka's red face. He pretended he wasn't seriously impressed and idly reminded her to breathe as he felt himself levitate another few inches from the furniture. She puffed a hot breath into his face that he ignored because he was rising higher and higher, her grip on his shoulder turning into straight-up claw marks.

When Maka finally rose to her full height with her weapon cradled in her arms they were both cheering.

Soul almost forgot how annoying she was, right until she unceremoniously dropped him back on the couch and collapsed dramatically on top of him before he could complete his second bounce. Then he remembered how much he hated her.

"I feel violated! No, worse, I feel used."

"Come on, Soul, you know I didn't mean it like that!"

"How else could you have meant it?! You literally called me 'useful'!"

"Poor choice of words?"

Soul was many things! He was a great partner, a skilled pianist, an incredible artist, the best toast maker Maka knew, etc. There were many wonderful qualities about him that she adored, and she told him on a daily basis, as was custom of friends and partners. So why not praise him on this other, handy talent he had? Maka was pretty sure anyone else would think it very sweet of her to acknowledge his abilities like that.

"Nope, I'm not transforming for you. AGAIN. If you want your phone back so bad you shouldn't have dropped it in the first place."

"You sound remarkably like my dad when you speak sometimes, you know that?"

Well now she definitely misspoke. If Soul was huffy before, now he looked straight up maniacal. He left the kitchen in a fit of rage while Maka stared forlornly at the space between the stove and the fridge, too slim and far back for her arm to fit through, but maybe not too small for someone else.

"Fine!" she called, letting her voice echo from the kitchen to the living room. "I thought that maybe my KIND and GENEROUS partner would want to help out his meister, but I guess he's too busy."

Silence.

Maka glared over her shoulder once before calling out idly. "Only HANDSOME and SWEET weapons are thoughtful enough to help out their meisters in their times of need!"

"Not working! You're still a jerk!"

Maka didn't want to have to do this. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

"I guess I could ask HARVAR." She heard Soul rustle. "I know he'd be COOL ENOUGH to come help me get my phone. In fact, he might be the COOLEST—"

Maka almost had to duck from how fast Soul was flying towards her, turning end over end in his scythe form. She snatched him from mid-air with a smile.

"You're so predictable," she said, smirking.

"Shut up," Soul grumbled.

She turned him over and stuck him in the crevice, shuffling her phone towards her with his handle until it was close enough for her reach down and retrieve. Soul was already transformed before she stood back up.

Maka wrapped her arms around him in a snuggly hug she knew he did not appreciate. "You're the best, you know that?"

"Best?"

"Coolest," she corrected.

Soul finally smiled. Maka tightened her grip and lifted him a few inches off the floor, just to remind him she could.

"Haaaaaate you," he said as he kicked his dangling feet out for purchase on their kitchen floor.

"Love you, too!"