Well, here's another set of drabbles. This one is shorter than my usual ones but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
The ‘stupid ideas and pissed off people’ drabbles
“You see, this is why I don’t like doing parkour with you!” Sky snapped, pressing back against the wall behind him to put a little more distance between himself and the precarious drop in front of him.
“It’s not my fault you suck.” Deadlox replied, looking down at the Butter King from the jump a few feet above his head.
“I don’t suck! You pushed me down here!” Sky protested, stamping his foot and sending a shower of loose stones off the edge into the ravine.
“You deserved it.” Deadlox quipped, standing up and leaping to the next jump with ease. “Bye.”
“Bye? What do you mean, ‘bye’? You’re not leaving are you?!” Sky craned his neck, trying to see where his friend had disappeared off to. “Deadlox! Get your ass back here! Deadlox!”
“I don’t know how to make a cake! I’m a PVPer, not a crafter!” Jerome exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in his frustration. “Why can’t Ssundee make the cake?!”
“Don’t ask me! I’m just as lost as you are.” Bajan growled, glaring at the bucket of spilt milk in front of him.
“Arg! Screw this cake! I’m gonna go chop something!” Jerome growled, shoving the bowl away and storming outside, grabbing his axe on the way. Bajan stared at the empty bucket for a few seconds longer before shaking his head in defeat and joining him.
I don't know if I want to write another Team Crafted fic...should I? If I do, it'll either be Merome, Bomin(Bodil40xSimonHDS90) or just a funny/cracky one with all of them in it doing Battle Dome or something..
I was in the mood for some Bashdil and I kept thinking about how hilarious Pewface was so I combined the two and here is the finished result. Enjoy~ Darky out~
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Bashur asked, pausing outside his front door. “He isn’t the most polite of company.”
“It’ll be fine.” Bodil assured, grinning slightly. “I want to meet the famous Pewface that you rant about on nearly every single one of our dates.” He teased. Bashur felt colour rise to his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.
“I don’t talk about him that much, do I?” He asked, biting his lip slightly.
“You do.” Bodil shrugged, his grin widening. “I don’t mind though. It’s fun hearing about the things he’s done to annoy you.”
“Shut up.” Bashur grumbled. “Do you wanna come in or not?”
“Yes, I want to come in.” Bodil rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. “I don’t know about you but I’m sick of being interrupted by Simon and Double whenever we’re at my place.”
“Ah yeah...that’s always pretty awkward...” Bashur winced at the memory as he dug his keys out of his pocket. “Well anyway... here we are. You can take off your jacket if you want.” He offered, unlocking the door and holding it open for the other man. Bodil nodded and slipped off his suit jacket, slinging it over his shoulder as he stepped inside.
“It’s kinda empty in here.” He commented, looking around the large entry hall.
“Pewface! I’m home!” Bashur called as he followed Bodil inside, closing the door behind them. “And sorry about that. I only built it a little while ago so I haven’t really had time to put furniture in.” Bodil opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a voice coming from upstairs.
“It’s about time you got back, idiot. Are you done sucking face with the weird foreign guy?” Bodil raised one eyebrow at his boyfriend whose face was morphing into a strange mixture of anger and embarrassment.
“Dammit Pewface! Shut up!” He yelled up the stairs, his reaction causing Bodil to start giggling.
“Who’s that laughing?” The voice continued, this time accompanied by soft footsteps as Pewface made his way towards the couple. “You didn’t bring him here did you?”
“Yes I did. And I expect you to be polite Pewface.” Bashur commanded, putting his hands on his hips in what he thought was an intimidating pose and causing Bodil to dissolve into another fit of giggles.
“Oh wow, when you said his laugh was annoying, you weren’t kidding.” Pewface commented, causing Bodil to cut off abruptly and give Bashur a confused and slightly hurt look.
“You think my laugh is annoying?” He asked with a slight pout.
“Of course not! Don’t believe Pewface, he’s a jerk. I think your laugh is adorable!” Bashur defended. Bodil brightened immediately and leant over to give Bashur a light kiss on the lips, which Bashur happily returned.
“Ewww.” Pewface’s loud exclamation made them jerk apart, Bashur twisting to glare at the dog who had finally made his appearance while Bodil lifted up his sunglasses to get better look at the animal.
“Is this Pewface?” He asked, crouching down slightly. “He has a pink collar.”
“Yes, I am fully aware of that, idiot.” Pewface snorted. “Why do you talk weird?”
“Pewface! Be nice to Bodil!” Bashur scolded. Pewface gave him a confused look.
“I’m being nice! I’m just asking why he talks funny.” He defended himself, lifting his chin arrogantly. Bashur opened his mouth to scold the dog again but Bodil waved his hand to signal that it was alright.
“Don’t worry, I get this question all the time, I’m used to it.” He assured the melon man with a slight eye-roll before crouching down to Pewface’s height and holding out his hand. “I’m Bodil40 but everyone calls me Bodil. I come from a country called Bulgaria which is why I ‘talk funny’. It’s nice to meet you Pewface.” Pewface considered the man’s hand for a moment before placing his paw on top of it, almost daintily so that Bodil could shake it.
“You don’t seem that bad I guess.” He offered and Bodil gave him a cheeky grin.
“That’s what they all say at first~”
“What was that?!”
“Nothing~”
Bashur sighed and rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face. Well at least they’re getting along...for now...
Jerome looked down at himself and his current lack of pants before shrugging.
“I didn’t feel like pants today.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey Biggums!” Mitch called, grinning widely. “Guess what I have!” Jerome turned around from where he had been sorting through the items dropped from the tribute he had just killed.
“What?” He asked, standing up and putting on a gold helmet he had picked up. Mitch grinned wickedly before pulling out the diamond axe he had been hiding behind his back.
“I got Betty!” He crowed, waving the axe back and forth in front of the mesmerised ‘Bacca’s face. “You want her?”
“Yes I want her!” Jerome exclaimed, reaching out for his beloved axe. “How did you even get her?! I though you said you didn’t have any diamonds!”
“I lied~” Mitch grinned, tossing the axe to his best friend. “You’re welcome.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What the hell did you do to our house?!” Mitch exclaimed, dropping his pickaxe and clutching his hair.
“I did some remodelling.” Jerome shrugged, looking around the half-demolished house with a hint of pride.
“I was gone for five minutes Jerome! Five minutes! My god!” Mitch moved closer to start examining the damage. “You blew up our chests! You better’ve not lost our diamonds!”
“Relax Mitch,” Jerome grinned. “It’s a lot more spacious now.”
“That’s because you blew it all up!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You need anything?” Mitch asked, looking over his shoulder warily to make sure he wasn’t being pursued.
“Uh...” Jerome’s voice crackled through the headset a moment later. “I need armour... And a weapon.”
“Alright, come to me, I got boobs for you.” Mitch replied, pausing to rummage through a chest. “And a wood axe if you want it.”
“Yes please. Where are you? I’m near spawn.” Jerome replied. Mitch nodded to himself and straightened up, pulling out a stone sword.
“Alright, meet you there in 5.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Okay guys, pick your teams.” Adam called, jumping up and down next to Ty. “Hurry up, I wanna play!”
“Yeah, yeah, hold your horses.” Mitch rolled his eyes. “Okay... I want...” He scanned the group assembled before him before his eyes alighted on the person he wanted. “Jerome! Get your booty over here!”
“Yeah boyyy~” Jerome crowed, bouncing over to his best friends side.
“Hashtag Merome!” Ian called with a grin, earning an eye-roll from the pair.
“I want Ty.” Preston finally decided, beckoning the brunette over.
“But Perstonnnnn!” Bodil whined, trying to hide a grin. “You promised you’d pick me first!”
“Shut up Bidol!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yeah so...I was bored. And this happened.
Drabbles 2 and 4 are set in the Hunger Games, 3 is based after Mitch and Jerome's Dinosaurs modded survival and 5 is set in the Battle Dome
Australia jerked up in his bed, his gold flecked green eyes wide with alarm. Okay, this time he was definitely not imagining things. There was someone in his house, and they were making one helluva noise. His pet wolf spider, Fluffy sat crouched on the wall next to him, tensed in alarm.
“What’dya reckon, Fluffy?” he asked softly, his eyes darting around the room in search of a weapon. “Should I go take a look?” Ignoring the lack of reply from his pet, Australia got up anyway, retrieving a cricket bat from his closet. He paused at the sound of gleeful laughter drifting through the walls, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Someone was...laughing? In the middle of robbing him, they were laughing?
He tip-toed his way through the house slowly, strategically avoiding parts of the floor that he knew were creaky. He stopped outside the closed kitchen door and sniffed the air, half expecting to smell toast, but the only scent he recognised was Pohutukawa flowers, or in other words, New Zealand’s favourite flowers. Now, why the hell were there Pohutukawa flowers in his kitchen? Unless…
“Gotcha!” Australia yelled, jumping around the door and pointing his cricket bat at the offender. The intruder was standing over by his tap, holding a glass under it. Australia flicked on the kitchen light, revealing New Zealand, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of a car briefly before he regained his composure and grinned.
“Gudday, bro,” he said casually. Australia frowned in confusion.
“What the hell are ya doin’ in my kitchen?” Australia demanded, letting the bat drop to his side. New Zealand shrugged.
“Just gettin’ a drink,” he explained with a smirk, quickly half-filling his glass before turning on his heel and walking out the front door without another word. Australia stared after him, looking immensely confused before he shrugged and turned to walk back to his bedroom.
“That was weird… I thought Kiwi Fruit would be at his place for another week…” he mused, tossing the bat under his bed and collapsing back onto the covers. “Maybe I’m dreamin’,” he mumbled into the pillow. “That would ‘splain it…” He yawned, quickly falling asleep again. When he awoke, the sun was rising and the incident from last night was all but forgotten.
He got up, yawning and rubbing at his eyes as he made his way to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and stripped off while he waited for it to heat up. Once he was in, the water didn’t do much to wake him up and he quickly washed himself off and got out, too tired to really wonder why he was so strangely sticky once he did. He groggily made his way to the kitchen where he filled the kettle and set it to boil while he hunted down the last of his coffee beans.
He mixed up his coffee, making it good and strong and took a sip. His eyes widened in disgust and he spat it back out again, slamming his mug down onto the counter to furiously wipe at his tongue to try and rid it of the offending flavour. His coffee tasted worse than usual! There was something about it that seemed incredibly familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
He retrieved a glass from his cupboard and went to the sink, filling it up to wash away the awful taste. He raised it to his lips and was about to take a mouthful when the smell hit him. His eyes opened wide and he raised the glass to get a better look. Yep, this definitely was not water. The amber liquid sloshed against the side of the glass as he brought it back down to his lips, taking an experimental sip. Yup, beer, just as he thought. He took another sip, swishing it around his mouth. Heineken possibly… Or maybe Tui…
He lifted up his arm to lick up a few drops of moisture that remained from his shower. Yep, that was beer too. He then checked his coffee pot and made a face of disgust when he realised what it contained. Boiled beer. Gross.
He turned on the tap again, just to double check he wasn’t imagining things; yep, it was still flowing beer. Australia tapped his chin as he tried to figure out how on Earth this might’ve happened when the memory of his strange encounter the night before trickled back into his mind and he groaned. Oh, that kid was going to pay for this.
“NEW ZEALAND!”
THE END.
This is based after a real life event that happened not too long ago. A bunch of New Zealand men rigged their friends taps so that only Tui beer would come out, they filmed it and put it on youtube if you want to check it out, just look up 'New Zealand beer prank' and it should come up. Anyway, when I saw it I thought it seemed like something New Zealand would do and thus, this beauty was born~
It was Sunday in England’s house, also known as Cleaning Day. And boy, was there a lot to clean up. Maybe taking in six young colonies all at once hadn’t been the best idea, but it was too late to go back on that now.
“America, can you go restock the wood pile?” the Briton called, hoping that the task would keep America out of the way, at least for a little while. The short blonde nodded eagerly and was out the back door in seconds, almost knocking over India on his way.
“Australia, you and South Africa can sweep the floor in the corridor, alright?” he continued. Australia gave him a pout but reluctantly went to fetch the broom, followed by an equally reluctant South Africa. “India, I need you to dust the china in the cupboard,” he commanded, knowing the Indian boy had the steadiest hand out of all his colonies and actually had a fondness for the pretty plates. India eagerly trotted off to the dining room, pausing on his way to grab a dust cloth.
“And Canada and New Zealand, I need you two to wash the windows,” he finished, placing his hands on his hips. Canada nodded, bending down to pick up another dust cloth but New Zealand just tilted his head to the side and gave England a confused smile.
“Kaore au e mārama,” he squeaked, swinging his arms back and forth. England groaned in irritation.
“Don’t give me that, New Zealand, you know exactly what I’m saying,” he scolded. New Zealand’s expression didn’t change and he just repeated himself.
“Kaore au e mārama.”
England scowled and crouched down so he was at eye-level with the child.
“Now listen here, you little brat, you understand me every other time I talk to you, so I know full well that you understand me now! I’ve even seen you speak English!” he snapped, trying not to lose his temper. New Zealand gave him another smile, although this one was more cheeky than confused.
“Tēnā koa, āta korero,” he grinned. England rose, fists clenched angrily as he tried to restrain himself from smacking the small child.
“We’ve established the fact that you speak English, you little shit, now hurry up and do as you’re told!” he yelled, stomping his foot in his fury and accidently squashing one of Australia’s beloved pet spiders who happened to be crawling past.
“Tēnā koa, kōrero mai anō?” he asked innocently, giving England a big smile. England’s face slowly turned red and he opened his mouth to scream some obscenity at the child nation, but was cut off by a screech of horror coming from Australia, who had re-appeared, holding the broom. He dropped it to the floor and raced over to the crushed remains of his poor spider.
“Matilda! No! She was so young!” he wailed, dropping to his hands and knees. “Matildaaaaaaaa!” he sobbed, beating his forehead against the floorboards.
“Shit,” England groaned. “Look, Australia, I’m sorry I stood on your spider, now please stop hitting your head on the floor,” he sighed. “I’m trying to sort out your brother and I don’t need you throwing a hissy fit at the same time.” Australia raised his head and gave England a horrified look.
“You killed Matilda?! No! Now you have to tell Fluffy why his baby is dead!” he yelled, pounding his fists on the floor. New Zealand waved to get England’s attention before pointedly turning around and walking away, cheerfully waving over his shoulder at his enraged parent nation.
“E noho rā, Mum!” he giggled, before running as fast as he could out of the room.
“Don’t call me Mum, you spoilt little brat!” England yelled after him. “And get back here! You still need to clean the windows!”
He started to follow him but was interrupted by an angry kick to his leg. He glanced down to find a scowling Australia, holding his hands up out to him. Crouched in the boy’s cupped palms was a huge wolf spider, roughly the size of England’s own hand.
“Tell Fluffy why Matilda’s dead!” the child demanded, thrusting ‘Fluffy’ closer to his parent’s face. England paled and recoiled, stepping back and putting his hands up defensively.
“Now look, Australia, I’d love to explain to your spider what happened, but I’m afraid I have to go chase down New Zealand right now. Maybe I can tell him later.”
He took another step back and gave what he thought was a comforting smile to the boy. Australia let out another shriek of protest and shoved his hands toward the Briton again.
“Tell Fluffy why Matilda died!” he repeated, his voice rising in pitch. “Tell Fluffy! Tell Fluffy! Tell Fluffy!” By this point he was stomping his foot and becoming louder and louder with each cry.
“Australia please, I need to-” England started but was cut off yet again by a loud crash. He whipped around to see one of his lovely oak trees wedged in the doorway that led to the back yard. America was standing in front of the splintered, uprooted tree with a proud grin on his face.
“I got the wood, Engwand!” he grinned, planting his hands on his hips. England’s eyes widened with horror and he reached up to clutch at his already messy blonde hair, ruffling it further.
“My trees! I meant for you to get the wood from the woodshed! Not from one of my ancient oaks!” he cried. America’s smile faltered a bit.
“But I got the wood…” he mumbled, his eyes watering as he started to pout. Canada, seeing that his twin was close to tears, abruptly started crying himself, which promptly set America off too. Australia started jumping up and down, continuing with his high pitched shrieks.
“Tell Fluffy! Tell Fluffy! Tell Fluffy!”
“I don’t wanna clean!” South Africa joined in, throwing his broom down as well and sitting down on the floor with his arms crossed stubbornly. “Don’t wanna! Don’t wanna! Don’t wanna!”
“It’s too loud!” India squealed, running back into the room with his ears covered. “Be quiet!” England tightened his grip on his hair, closing his eyes as if that would drown out the noise.
“Tell Fluffy! Tell Fluffy! Tell Fluffy!”
“Don’t wanna! Don’t wanna! Don’t wanna!”
“Be quiet!”
“B-but I got the wood!”
Yes, taking in six bratty colonies at once was definitely not a good idea. But, unfortunately for poor England, it’s far too late to go back on that now…
Translations key-
Kaore au e mārama- I don't understand. (maori)
Tēnā koa, āta korero- Please speak more slowly (maori)
Tēnā koa, kōrero mai anō- Please say that again (maori)
E noho rā, Mum- Good bye Mum (formal)(maori)
