#clearly i have homework due so i'm writing fics again

[newwwwusername]

if u see this, thanks for reading 😭 and if requests are still open, can I request a chansaw fic where they’re college roomates, and then they were roomates

TYSM and if u cant i still wanna wish u happy holidays

Do not repost to other sites. This fic will be ported to Wattpad and AO3 under the same username

As soon as Veronica met her new college roommate, a blonde by the name of Heather Chandler, she could tell that this girl must've been one of the top dogs when she was in high school.

Heather dressed sharply and her makeup was always on point. Her posture was perfect and she carried herself with an importance that Veronica found herself envious of.

Initially, Heather was a bit of a bitch. She clearly viewed herself very high in comparison to those around her and, while Veronica definitely considered her roommate to be a friend of sorts, she didn't really like Heather Chandler all that much.

It wasn't until Veronica came home to find Heather hyperventilating over a homework assignment that she properly considered that this plastic woman had any real interiority.

It was easy to write off Heather as a mean girl who hadn't matured past high school yet. It was harder to grapple with the fact that even mean girls have feelings.

"Heather?" Veronica said softly as she approached the blonde, who was hunched over her desk with her head in her hand, breathing heavily and shaking like a leaf. Heather immediately straightened up to the best of her ability, but it was nothing more than a cheap mockery of her usual stoicism.

"The hell do you want?" she snapped, though her voice came out crackly and Veronica could see now that she'd been crying.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, freak" Heather turned back to her desk. Veronica peaked over to find a book open and a blank sheet of lined paper next to it. "Go away"

"Maybe I can help"

"Why the fuck would you want to do that?"

"I mean, you're kind of a bitch, but I do care about you" Veronica told her earnestly. Heather looked at her again, her expression more vulnerable this time. "What's the trouble?"

"...I can't read this" Heather said, avoiding Veronica's gaze as she handed Veronica the book.

"How come?"

"I'm..." Heather swallowed thickly, stealing a quick glance at the other woman to search for judgment. Heather was many things, but she wasn't weak. She'd lose her shit if this nerdy little brat thought she was weak. However, no such thoughts were evident on Veronica's face. "I'm Dyslexic. The spacing is too close together and I can't read it"

"Oh" Veronica said, a bit taken aback. Heather seemed so perfect, she would've never imagined the girl had a learning disability. Even more, she didn't expect her to admit such a thing to her college roommate who she didn't seem to think very highly of. "That's okay"

"No, it's not" Heather objected firmly. "I have a book report due in two weeks and it's a huge part of my grade. I'm going to fail and then get kicked out and then all this will have been for nothing!"

"Heather, hey" Veronica soothed. "It's gonna be okay. You could get an audiobook"

"This book doesn't have one yet, it's really new"

"Oh" Veronica hummed in consideration for a moment. "I mean... I could read it to you"

"...You'd really want to do that for me?" Heather asked, surprised. "I've... I've not been the kindest to you"

"I want to" Veronica nodded. "And, in return, you can focus on being nicer. Not just to me, but to everyone. You're kind of a bitch"

"...Okay, fine, deal"

[honeydew-sillies]

"Takenaka's Cure for Boredom"

A Mob Psycho tickle fic !!

word count: 2,446

a/n: I've had this sitting for around almost done for a bit and figured I'd cut it off where I did so I could finally post it! Will hopefully write a sequel eventually... no promises. Shoutout to these two for being my favorite ever. Next on the agenda is Takeritsho... mwahahaha !!

warnings: none aside from light swearing!

☆☆☆

"D-don't!"

Momozo felt the sly grin on his face grow ever so slightly larger. Across from him sat Kageyama Ritsu, both sitting on the latter's bed.

They had been doing their individual homework together the whole afternoon, Momozo texting the other that his weekend tennis practice had been called off. Well, "doing homework;" it was more so Ritsu trying and failing to get Momozo to pay attention to anything other than his phone, and in turn also getting distracted.

(He didn't normally have too much of an issue focusing, but it wasn't Momozo's fault the kid never took any breaks.)

The distraction currently being the way Momozo had confidently stated "I'm bored," before setting his phone down, shooting a glance at the younger boy sitting next to him on the bed, and slowly bringing his hands up as "claws," inching in Ritsu's direction. As he seemed to have made a very ANNOYING habit of doing recently.

"Don't what?"

"Do not tickle me! Takenaka I swear to god-"

As selfish as it may have been, Momozo always relished in how skittish he could get the "Mr. Student Council, Straight A's, Mature and Serious Pretty Boy," which was a facade that he had seen through almost immediately. And not because of his telepathy. Ignoring the part of his brain that groaned at how grossly cheesy it was, the older boy enjoyed being able to see this side of Ritsu.

"Okay, so you're telling me that you really do not want me to tickle you? Is that right?"

The brunette bit back a fond laugh as he watched Ritsu squirm ever so slightly. He noted the small smile that the other was trying very hard and failing to bite down, the way his cheeks were already a lovely shade of pink, and how he was very clearly hesitating in confirming that he most definitely did not want to be tickled right now. Momozo quirked up an eyebrow as if to say ‘I know you’re lying.’ He did that often.

This kid was so easy to read it was almost annoying at times. Almost.

"Hey! N-no fair, you can't use your telepathy, that's cheating!"

Momozo barked out a laugh, grin widening. Normally, he would've grown irritated at the accusation; but with Ritsu, it was far too much fun messing with him for Momozo to be angry. Poor kid just gave himself away, too.

"How many times do I have to remind you, I'm not using my powers. People can say a lot with their eyes and body language. Plus you’re, like, super easy to read."

He watched Ritsu swallow as the boy realized his mistake, once again floundering for any attempt at control over the situation. If Momozo didn't immediately shut down the train of thought, he probably would've said it was cute. Gross.

"W-wait, but my eyes were-"

"Saying that you want me to tickle you? Yeah, I picked up on that."

Growing impatient, Momozo dashed forward on the mattress while Ritsu was still taken aback from the "matter-of-fact" statement. The shorter of the two let out a yelp, scrambling to get away from his assailant, but to no avail. Not only had Momozo had a head start, but he was also just a tad stronger than Ritsu due to his practicing for club and his height. …At least Ritsu liked to tell himself that.

Momozo put on an innocent smile at the friend underneath him; Ritsu's head had found its way to his pillow on the way down, with Momozo resting his hands on either of Ritsu's sides as he kneeled next to him, towering over him just enough to keep him in place. And as much as a show the raven-haired boy made of squirming around, it was clear to both of them that he really wasn't trying to get away. Plus, if he did want to, he had the strength to do so at any time.

"Takenaka!" Ritsu very nearly whined, biting his lip as the wobbly smile on his face became more prominent.

"Mmhm?"

Ritsu threw Momozo what was apparently supposed to be a sharp glare, though there was no clear malice behind it. Embarrassment, maybe, but not anger.

This was so unfair. It was so… childish. Definitely not something a serious, mature and perfectly ordinary middle schooler would spend time doing. So why, Ritsu asked himself, was his stomach filled with a buzzing excitement? Why did he already feel the giggles bubbling up in his chest, and why was it fun? Why was he having fun?

Normally, the only person who could ever get away with and actively tickled Ritsu was his older brother, Shigeo. And occasionally Sho, which was becoming more common, though that was embarrassing just to think about. Momozo has been a… new addition to Ritsu’s “I actually enjoy your company more than an acquaintance” list.

Which had, once again, somehow turned into his “you’re allowed to tickle me without getting telekinetically slammed into a wall (on purpose)” list.

What’s worse was Momozo’s telepathy; it had unintentionally caused Ritsu to allow himself to be more honest with the brunette, which meant not being able to keep up his totally serious and responsible front all the time. The invisible threat of his thoughts and emotions being free to read created a nervousness in Ritsu, making him state more things outright instead of trying to cover them up like he normally would.

Which also meant revealing a more playful side not often seen by anyone, other than his older brother and family.

Hence the situation at hand.

“L-let me go!”

Speaking of telepathy, the more excited a person got usually meant the louder their thoughts got, both subconscious and not. And esper’s thoughts tended to stand out more to Momozo’s hearing in general, though he wasn't sure why. Probably some sort of weird power energy thing.

At least he wasn’t doing it on purpose when he heard ‘Oh my god just do it already this is awful this is so embarrassing he's so-’

“You could very easily get away if you wanted to, Kageyama.”

Ritsu let out an indignant growl. It was anything but intimidating.

He flusteredly spat out, “You’re so annoying!” and what Momozo also hears is ‘Please don’t make me admit it-’

He sighed almost fondly; he had been pretty mean, what with knowing how much anticipation got to the other boy. Maybe it was time to do what he had actually planned to after getting bored with his phone and work…

Ritsu let out another squeaky yelp as he finally felt the hands around his sides squeeze firmly, the hypersensitivity from being on edge having built up to the point where he couldn’t stop the first surge of laughter to cascade from his lips. It was slightly high-pitched, but still boyish and sporadic and somehow so perfectly Ritsu.

But if there's something else that is most definitely Ritsu, it’s being stubborn as all hell when he feels like it. So, instead of fighting back (which Momozo would make a point of bringing up later), the younger boy smacked a hand over his smiling mouth, muffling his laughter as he instinctively squirmed away from the fingers kneading into his sides once more. He tried weakly to roll from side to side in an attempt to dodge Momozo’s hands, which followed him no matter where he went.

“Aw c’monnnn, it’s no fun if you don’t laugh…”

Ritsu shook his head, shoulder bouncing ever so slightly with the laughter that was being held back.

Okay, new tactic, then.

Momozo took a moment to focus more than he had been previously, staring at the boy underneath him with a menacing grin as he projected his own thoughts:

‘I know you want to laugh. Come on come on come on just laughhh you are so boring-’

Ritsu jumped from the startle (he would never quite get used to that power), and let out a few muted giggles behind his hand, narrowing his eyes at the other boy as if to challenge him. He thought back, loud and clear,

‘Eat shit-’ Before very clearly stifling a laugh at whatever look just crossed Momozo’s face.

“Alright, jackass. If you want to be like that then…"

At first glance, most if not all people would not expect Takenaka Momozo to be a “playful” individual; he was cocky when comfortable, sure. Stand-offish, socially anxious, and hardly ever outright playful. In the same way the telepath was allowed to see a realer version of Ritsu, Ritsu was shown a different side of the former as well. And, in all honesty, he regards this fact fondly.

…Except right now.

The raven-haired boy only had time to exclaim a quick “NO!-” before he fell into louder laughter, audible even behind the hand clasped over his mouth. The cause of this laughter of course being the fingers that were once kneading into his sides moving to massage his lower ribs instead; even being so kind as to pay special attention to the sweet spot between the two lowest ribs, causing Ritsu to arch his back upwards and let out what could only be considered a squeal. His face was most definitely burning up now.

“Wow, was that a squeal dude? Forgot how ticklish you are…” Momozo noted nonchalantly, the teasing lilt in his normally aloof voice driving Ritsu mad.

“Shuhut UP! I’m nohot even thahat- NAHA-!”

Whatever Ritsu was about to say was very rudely interrupted by another even higher-pitched round of laughter. Momozo was quick to disprove Ritsu’s claim by turning back and squeezing one of the latter’s knees; he narrowly avoided being kicked while Ritsu’s torso leapt forward instinctively before falling back against the bed. His body had very nearly gone limp, as it did when worse spots were targeted.

Ah, right, he really didn’t have much of a tolerance to strong tickling. Momozo smirked.

“Not even that huh? Didn’t catch that.”

“OKAY OKAY OKAHAHAY IHI’M SORRY! TAKE! SHIHIHIT-”

The slip of the nickname went unnoticed by the laughing boy, and if Momozo’s chest fluttered just the tiniest bit, he ignored it. Instead, he opted for being nice enough to move from the bad spot, bringing his hands up to skitter his short nails over Ritsu’s stomach through his unfortunately thin long sleeve t-shirt.

Ritsu fell into a fit of incredibly bubbly and distinguishably not serious giggles, legs instinctively kicking as he shot his hands out to hold Momozo’s wrists now that the dam of laughter had already been broken. However, that was more so to steady himself than to really fight back, and both boys knew this; it was already too late for him to put up a fight, and he was definitely laughing too hard. Ritsu naturally refused to acknowledge this. Momozo, on the other hand…

“Stohohop looking ahat me like- like thahahat!”

“What’re you gonna do? Push my hands away?”

"Shuhut UHUHUP!"

"Hm, that was kind of rude." Momozo responded calmly as he casually massaged the small bit of pudge Ritsu always had on his tummy that he "definitely should have grown out of." Not that he had time to think about that currently, though, considering the endless waves of giggling laughter that made it hard for him to form any coherent sentences.

The brunette continued to attack his friend’s stomach with no signs of letting up any time soon; he switched unpredictably between squishing around the softer area and spidering his fingers, sneaking his hands just the tiniest bit under the end of Ritsu’s now rumpled up t-shirt to scribble over the spot just beneath the shorter boy’s navel. A spot that, without fail, always made him kick and hiccup-laugh like there was no tomorrow.

At this point, Ritsu's thoughts had turned into a sort of jumbled and mostly incoherent mess, which wasn't anything foreign to Momozo. Sometimes thoughts were less of… thoughts, and more so feelings. And the only intense feeling radiating off of Ritsu was 'It tickles it tickles it tickles so BAD-'

The ticklish shocks running through Ritsu’s body were the only thing he could focus on as he shook his head back and forth, feeling how his cheeks were burning up and how the butterflies in his stomach just refused to let up. It was like an unbearable but pleasant electricity coursing through his nerves, starting at his stomach and spreading through his body before all collecting at one point in his chest; the place where the uncontrollable laughter flowed freely from his mouth.

Despite his brain’s natural reactions to the sensations, Ritsu really didn’t mind the feeling. In all honesty, he quite enjoyed being tickled; it allowed for a certain sense of vulnerability he had always had a hard time showing, a way for him to feel comfortable enough to laugh and smile freely. Though his stamina could only last so long, especially as someone who isn’t fully used to being tickled.

The younger boy didn’t seem to notice at first that the ticklish sensations on his stomach had ceased, catching his breath as he let out the rest of his breathy titters.

After a moment, Ritsu glanced up and made eye contact with Momozo, who to anyone else would have seemed bored; but Ritsu wasn't anyone, and caught the small smile still resting on his lips, likely mirroring his own unconscious one. A smile he quickly tried to cover up by glaring daggers at the boy above him.

What he would've give to wipe that stupid smile away with-

"You good?" Momozo asked, thankfully cutting off wherever that train of thought was headed.

Ritsu broke the eye contact bashfully, needing to look at anything other than the stupid genuine expression on the boy leaning over him because that's embarrassing and this is embarrassing.

Speaking of embarrassing, he quickly pulled his hands away from around Momozo's wrists, opting to cross his arms instead and pretend he didn't look like a toddler pouting at the moment.

"Alright, solid answer."

"So are you going to get off of me now, or what?"

"Dunno." Momozo shrugged. Ritsu bristled.

"What do you mean you don't know??"

"Do you want me to?"

"...You're a jerk."

The brunette couldn't help but chuckle. While his boredom had most definitely been cured, he knew they were both having far too much fun to go back to focusing on homework anyway. Well, Ritsu probably could, 'Like the nerd he is.' Momozo noted to himself.

He was pulled away from those brief thoughts by Ritsu's suddenly much less flustered tone of voice (which definitely couldn't be good) as he asked,

"Hey Takenaka."

"...'Sup?"

Ritsu grinned.

"I'm bored."

In the moment it took the latter to realize what Ritsu was getting at, he was already too late.

[laurentspup]

I wish you would write a 'food as a metaphor for love' type story

anon!!! i'm very sorry this took me forever and posted one or two unrelated fics since i received this but i did it i finished!! it is short and sweet and i hope this is to your liking. i enjoyed making this fic so thank you so much for your prompt!!! i just really loved the idea of damen and laurent preparing food together with practiced familiarity. enjoy!!

French Toast, Sunday

The sun soaks in through the windows of the kitchen, the sunlight catching on the coffee mugs held by Laurent’s husband, Damen. It’s a quiet Sunday morning, both of them enjoying the silence and comfort of being with each other.

Laurent sits on the stool by the island counter while Damen pours coffee in both their mugs. It's a couple mug, gifted to them by Auguste on their last anniversary. Damen’s has a lion on his, while Laurent’s has a snake. It’s unconventional, barely understood by their new friends, but for everyone who has been in their life since they started dating, they know what those animals meant.

“Local toast or international toast?”

“Damen, I told you many times, just because it’s called French toast—“

“Doesn’t mean I can call it international toast.” Damen finishes because he has heard Laurent answer this to him a million times since he took him to a French restaurant on their second date. “But it’s still not made in America—”

“So it’s not local.” Laurent responds because they have this conversation all the time, but they never get tired of repeating it.

Damen smiles back, fondly reminiscing all the times they said this to each other. The first time in that French restaurant, those awkward days when Laurent was still closed off, and Damen right by his side when he decided to open the gates of his walls and guided Damen in.

Laurent gets off the stool and walks to the cabinets above their microwave to grab ingredients for French toast. Damen treads to him and hugs him from the back. He lays the coffee in front of Laurent and kisses his hair. Laurent leans back to his warmth while getting cinnamon and sugar.

Damen raises his hand to grab the flour that Laurent couldn’t reach, not because he’s small, but because Damen is just that big.

“Giant animal.” He comments even though he’s actually grateful for his husband’s height.

“You love it.” Damen replies as he places down the flour and walks to the refrigerator to get eggs, butter, and milk.

Laurent sighs dramatically as he walks to another cabinet near their stove to grab a pan. It’s true though, he loved Damen’s… proportions, but pretending to be bothered by the size difference they had is a running joke he liked to keep bringing up. Damen chuckles from the other side of the kitchen, knowing perfectly well what his husband is doing.

“Syrup and whipped butter?” Damen asks as he pulls drawers open to get bowls for the batter.

“You know me so well.” Laurent answers, handing him a whisk, then walking off to get the knife and handheld mixer.

“If I didn’t, you’d throw a fit.” Damen jokes.

Laurent stops mid-crouch to stare at Damen. “I’d throw a fit?” He stands up with the knife in his hand, trying his best not to point it at his husband. A threatening aura radiates off him, but Damen just smiles wider. “Tell me who ignored their boyfriend for two days just because their boyfriend genuinely didn’t know what sport they played?”

“High school me shouldn’t count.” Damen says, happiness heard in his voice while pouring milk in a cup.

Laurent rolls his eyes and crouches again to get the mixer. “Oh okay. What about last week then?”

“Last week?”

“When you didn’t kiss me goodnight because I didn’t offer you the olives on my pizza.”

“I know you hate olives and you know I like olives. It’s that simple.”

“I do know that! I was waiting for the waiter so I can ask for an extra plate to put the olives there, but you were already pouting. So I didn’t give it to you.” Laurent stands beside Damen on the island and grabs the butter to slice and then melt in the microwave.

Damen cracks the eggs over the bowl with a big smile on his face. He sips his coffee as he listens to Laurent go on about how annoying it is when Damen thinks he doesn’t remember anything about him. Laurent mirrors that smile despite the subject of their conversation, despite his complaints. It’s any other light banter they have every Sunday morning when they get to prepare breakfast together.

“Okay… you’re right. I’m the one who throws tantrums.”

“Like a big baby.” Laurent sticks the bowl of butter in the microwave. He presses ten and walks to the small pantry cabinet to get the bread. “But then again, for some reason, I love it.”

“Love you and your quirks too, sweetheart.” Damen takes out the bowl of melted butter from the microwave and pours it in the mixture. “Like how you like being the one to always whip the batter.” Laurent is back by his side now, mixing together the wet and dry ingredients. He picks up the whisk to mix. “So kinky.”

Laurent groans. “Damen, it’s too early to be horny.”

Damen laughs and grabs Laurent’s ass while taking the other half of the unmelted butter and dumping it in a different bowl. “Never too early, sweetheart.”

“So kinky.” Laurent repeats his words mockingly and Damen laughs.

He lets go of Laurent’s ass to grab the mixer. Laurent takes that opportunity for revenge and slaps his husband’s meaty butt. Damen yelps in surprise and stares back at Laurent in shock with raised eyebrows. He just winks at him.

“And you said it was too early to be horny.”

“You started it, sweetheart.”

Damen shakes his head in disbelief, his eyes crinkling at the side with how wide his smile is. He cherishes the ease, the comfort, and the familiarity he has with his husband. He can’t help it when he closes the gap between him and Laurent and dips his head to kiss his cheek.

“What’s that for?” Laurent asks, now taking out bread from the plastic and laying it on a plate.

Damen hands Laurent the bowl of butter and the mixer, then he takes one bread and dips it in the batter.

“Nothing. You just make me happy.”

Laurent flushes, despite all the years he has spent with Damen, the simplest words still render him helpless. He turns on the mixer and over the sound, he replies.

“You make me really happy too.”

He knows Damen hears it.