The Drabble Factory
Upon wading through the murky depths of my laptop, I found a word document with stuff that I never got to post back when I was writing Seven Minutes In Heaven. Context: I was sent some prompts (who asked to remain anonymous) for fanfic drabbles. Some asked for Jazz/Rachel and Lucy/Mike/Paulo (cor, wouldn’t that be... odd). I’m pretty sure you guys were trolling me, but my Internet love is blind and stupid and I wrote this back then anyways because lolwhynot?. I really am serious when I say I have no pairing preferences.
there were other prompts but i can't find the documents aaaa
These are as suspend-your-disbelief-tastic and canon-defiling as it gets, mates. snort that crackfic
Keep the Fireworks Coming: PauloxLucy, JasminexRachel
Love, like jelly beans, comes in many flavours, Jasmine thinks, and she’s happy with what she’s tasted so far.
She liked what she had with Paulo, but it wasn’t love, rather something like ‘madly in like’, something playful and teasing, comfortable and nice.
She watches the tiny white frame curl closer to the taller orange one with all the bone-deep relaxation of someone who feels completely safe. She watches him drape an arm across her back and keep Lucy close, tugging the lithe Khao Manee into a hug that promises the world has to steamroll over him several times over with burning tarmac if it even thinks it can get a piece of her.
Jasmine smiles and feels a sour pang of longing and loneliness, sweetened by the light, soft feelings of forgiveness and happiness on behalf of somebody else.
She will not claim that she doesn’t miss the way Paulo looks at her, promising mischief and excitement, or the way she neatly fits under the crook of his chin when they sit on the couch, swathed in blankets, poking fun at over-the-top horror movies or chick-flicks.
There is a tiny void inside her that can’t be filled by the thud of a softball hitting a bat, the environmental club activities, or the good-natured natter of her friends, which is why Jasmine finds herself wandering down school hallways she rarely frequents; on the search for something fleeting and precious she will only recognise the moment she sees it.
A warm, not entirely unexpected, voice calls out to her: “Hello, kitten. Are you lost?”
“Looking for something to do,” Jasmine replies politely, because it’s true.
“Or someone?” Rachel asks and leans forward with a small grin, the liveliness in her tone teetering on the edge of vastly inappropriate.
Jasmine’s whiskers twitch in confusion.
Well, why not?
Jasmine is still too young and too restless for something as heavy as love, she thinks, but she can easily fall madly in like again, and before the older girl can purr out something even more lewd, the freshman is on her toes and her lips is on Rachel’s.
She pulls back after a short, chaste kiss of dry lips on lips.
“Cat got your tongue?” Jasmine asks cheekily, savouring the short seconds of utter delighted surprise on the canine girl’s face.
“There’ll be time for that later, hun,” Rachel smirks and she has that look that Jasmine adores; the twinkle in her eyes that promises many adventures ever after.
Three’s a Crowd: MikexLucyxPaulo
“I don’t believe this. It’s a joke.”
“Seemed pretty serious to me, Mike.”
“… you’re taking this remarkably well. I don’t... she can’t expect us to… all three of us?”
“Dunno, man. …I do have a coupla ideas.”
“Oh my god, Paulo, you’re serious… you’re seriously considering this? How would that even work?”
“You’re such an uncreative wuss, seriously. I’m thinking: you put on a black wig and pretend to be your ex and I pretend I’m having a threesome with two hot chicks?”
“Or Jessica? … damn, that’d be hot. Hey? Where’re you going?”
“I’m just going to feel free to pretend this conversation never happened. God, I wish I was old enough to drink. Or stupid enough to swallow laundry detergent.”
“You would make an awesome lesbian and you know it.”
“For the love of my sanity: Stop. Talking.”
“You’re picturing it now, aren’t you?”
- 27 June 2012 - 03:30 PM
also i never realised my pathetic fangirling on formspring would summon you back i am so happy to see you again oh my god aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
I enjoyed these silly little nuggets, they make me think they run like cute intermission comics ;.;
- 27 June 2012 - 04:44 PM
- 28 June 2012 - 04:26 AM
Crack pairings can occur without it being completely ridiculous. You simply have to capitalize on the fact it is a comic, and we normally don't see directly what the characters are thinking and we normally don't get explanations for their behavior. Uncertainty can make anything reasonable.
Also, I plan on reading this and Seven Minutes at some point! I really should have by now!
- 28 June 2012 - 04:34 AM
- 28 June 2012 - 04:52 AM
Mike and Paulo actually have some groundwork, it just makes a bit more sense. It's crack, but less crack than other ones.. maybe even shippable!!!! Hell I ship PauloxMike before straight pairings like MikexJasmine, because similarly to JasminexRachel, they have barely even interacted and shown no interest in one-another, whereas Paulo has saved Mike in the past and expressed friendship, even if he can be a bit tsundere about it.
- 28 June 2012 - 05:26 AM
as for rachel/jazz uhhh they're both monochromatic in fur and thus they are aesthetically meant to be? :V
So, um, got any other prompts for me?
- 28 June 2012 - 10:12 AM
also regarding pauloxlucyxmike
- 28 June 2012 - 11:01 AM
Paulo discovering that he has a crush on Mike would be an interesting situation for him to grapple with, since he's mildly homophobic. Guess that's part of why I enjoyed "Seven Minutes in Heaven".
(oh noes bringing out the research in a Creative Arts thread)
The one BCB character who I'd imagine as being pansexual would be David. He's David-sexual.
- 28 June 2012 - 03:32 PM
This post has been edited by Junior Boomer: 28 June 2012 - 05:44 PM
- 28 June 2012 - 05:43 PM
This post has been edited by Meowth: 28 June 2012 - 08:55 PM
- 28 June 2012 - 07:39 PM
I know she doesn't talk, but she still thinks, right?
- 29 June 2012 - 04:40 AM
Prompt by Junior Boomer:
Sue likes her life, thoughts and opinions orderly. Everything fitted in neat little labels and meticulous mental boxes. It simply makes everything run smoother, more streamlined, more professional.
Saying David is a bit removed from reality is... well, pretty spot on. Much like Mike and Sandy, the brown Labrador has something of a long-distance, polyamorous relationship with such fetching ladies as ‘common sense’, ‘social norms’ and of course ‘personal space’ – except he’s mislaid all their phone numbers, never writes or messages them, and seems to have a long-lasting crush on ‘non-sequitor’, that hussy.
It’s not that he’s stupid, Sue notices. It’s more of a ‘has an entirely different view on reality’ sort of thing. David’s relation to common behaviour is akin to that of a zoo-goer who prowls past the cages and throws popcorn at the animals to make them behave funnily and noisily.
For the most part, Sue’s pretty frustrated with this metaphor – moreso because she used to be entirely convinced that should anyone be an examined exhibition behind bars, it should be David.
Over time.... something changed, though. Call it natural, scientific curiosity. Call it a bad excuse. But she wanted to experience life on the ‘other side’. On David’s side.
As much as Sue values her neat inner mental closet tidy and sorted by colour and size and alphabetized, there are times when the overwhelming need for ‘change’ sneaks through her. Something different.
And David, in a word, is certainly ‘different’.
"What are you guys hollering about over here?"
Aaaaaand sometimes he is the sole reason she needs to step aside and distance herself from reality the same way a clumsy mountaineer steps one awry step aside and fatally distances himself from solid ground and the ability to eat solid food.
“Wanna join?” David offers, tail wagging happily.
Paulo rubs his chin, forehead creasing in genius-level-thought-processing: “Mrs Peacock, in the Kitchen, with the Turkey Baster.”
"Aw, c'mon, that doesn't beat Colonel Mustard in the Billiard Room with the Rifle!"
Sue stumbles mentally and physically.
“... nevermind,” she chokes out.
It must be love, she thinks, as she practically flees the scene and David flails heartfelt goodbyes and ‘see you laters’ at her retreating back. Has to be. There is no other logical reason why she still somehow manages to tolerate this insanity-induced intellectual imbroglio with a shaky, albeit sincere, smile on her face.
- 29 June 2012 - 02:50 PM