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HanakoHeals
Hanako
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#1
Old 11-05-2009, 07:34 AM

Feel free to use! Just show me what you come up with ^_^

Rules
1. There is no word limit. You can write a whole novel on this list if you can.
2. You MUST give a rating.
3. Any kind of fiction/nonfiction is welcomed.
4. Only 2 themes per story.
5. Post the finished drabble here.
6. A summary of the "fandom" or situation would be much appreciated.

100 Theme Drabble List

1.clothes
2. subtle
3. power ranger
4. panda
5. bunny
6. shakespeare
7. A Catcher in the Rye
8. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."
9. school sweatshirt
10. jewelry
11. ever after
12. the look
13. hello kitty band-aid
14. "Fighting!"
15. sleep
16. Halloween costume
17. cosplay
18. gardenias
19. roses
20. scented candles
21. corset
22. jealousy
23. Lips of an Angel
24. my life is average
25. death
26. sailor moon
27. misunderstanding
28. looking happy with a secret
29. tattoo
30. "I don't care"
31. together, apart, together
32. a majestic place
33. hopeless romantic
34. drunk
35. working out
36. double standard
37. presents
38. caramel
39. good listener
40. family
41. April Fools
42. revenge is sweet
43. switching roles
44. strawberries
45. fate
46. oblivious
47. "the book"
48. ice cream
49. waffles
50. "Maybe we should break up."
51. 10 reasons
52. the b**** and the jacka**
53. thin line between love and hate
54. "Oh, kinky."
55. rice
56. to write love on her arms
57. water
58. between you and me
59. second chances
60. cardboard
61. "Pick up the phone."
62. truth or dare
63. curiosity
64. House M. D.
65. dancing
66. anniversary
67. confidence
68. tease
69. apple tea
70. personal healer
71. running
72. stilettos
73. kitchen counter
74. "F*** it!"
75. anime girl
76. teddy bear
77. "I'm pregnant."
78. nickname
79. Unceh, unceh, unceh
80. moment of feeling
81. adventure
82. surprise
83. "I'll make you pay."
84. passion
85. distance
86. ZAP!
87. unique
88. fashion
89. extreme colored hair
90. love letter
91. arm rest
92. sir, yes, sir
93. cliche
94. legs
95. trust
96. daydream
97. disappointment
98. crazy
99. "Your_is_"
100. lie

Last edited by HanakoHeals; 02-05-2010 at 02:14 AM.. Reason: my drabble book is different

HanakoHeals
Hanako
364.18
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#2
Old 11-05-2009, 07:36 AM

Drabble: 33, 74

Characters: Jean Maglaya, Noah Mathews

Fandom: own story-untitled

Rating: PG

Summary about fandom: This is based on a story I am going to write. Drabbles help me with character development. Jean and Noah met each other in high school. They dated their sophomore year but broke up soon after. Years go by, and they are now in college. Feelings never left, but how can a relationship work out considering the circumstances?

Word Count: 1,157

I Know

He hadn’t said a word to her yet, but then again, she told him multiple times in her letters that he didn’t have to. Anxiety was racing through her veins in anticipation.

Why wasn’t he talking to her?

Why didn’t he say anything?

Why wasn’t he talking to her?!

The strain she felt at her finger tips was overwhelming, but she kept her crazy girl, happy front like an award winning actress. She would not lose her temper in frustration, and she would not push him into a corner. It would not be like last time. She would be mature and keep a smile on for she refused to be the spoiled, selfish, immature brat who broke his heart before.

Still, why wasn’t he talking to her?

It could be a good sign. After all, she, herself, tended to shyly avoid men she took interest in, but before she said she would win him over “subtly” and before she gave him that stupid book, things had been back to the way everything was before the whole dating fiasco. They argued and flirted like long times lovers but disgustingly refused the status when confronter.

She couldn’t blame him for rejecting her again, though. It had been nearly four years since they had dated. Four years was a long time, and the changes she had undergone were many. She was slightly less bubbly and slightly less attractive. The skeletons in her closest had piled up. She wasn’t as innocent as she used to be.

She did, however, honestly believe she had grown to be a better person. If he gave her another chance, she would not hide her feelings from him. She would talk things through with him, and she would be dedicated to him pass the day he did not want her anymore. If only she could show him that.

She sighed before turning over on the cement to face the night sky. Love was a risk, but god did she feel like an idiot. Maybe she could take a short nap there for awhile, sleep away the anxiety. Maybe everyone would be gone by the time she woke up…

“Hello, Filipino one.”

Great. So much for sleeping away the anxiety.

“Hello, Mr. West Point.”

The object of her affection came to stand directly in front of her, but she faked indifference and continued to stare past him.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked with that confident yet almost condescending tone of his.

“Staring at the stars.” She replied not missing a beat.

“Why?”

“Because you can’t see the stars in Bakersfield, and I miss them.”

“You’re so weird.”

She chuckled then before saying, “Thanks for the compliment.”

She heard a rustling noise before realizing that he had lain beside her. Silence swept over them, and she was amazed at how comfortable she felt. Besides being the love-of-her-life, this man had also been one of her closest friends since their freshmen year of high school. She was beginning to feel even more idiotic. She was about to ruin an already damaged friendship.

Stupid book. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“You know, that book is really ironic. It isn’t subtle at all.” She heard him say.

“Shush, Noah. The book wasn’t supposed to be subtle. The way I dealt with my feelings was supposed to be subtle.”

“How is it subtle?”

“I won’t lose my temper, and I won’t cry. And no one really knows about the book. You won’t be the bad guy if you don’t want me.” She still did not look at him. She couldn’t. Looking at him meant crying, and crying meant making him feel bad for her.

“Jean, you’re crazy.”

“We established that a long time ago, Mathews.” Again, she didn’t miss a beat.

“It’s attractive, though.”

She turned to him curiously then with squinted eyes and a slightly ajar mouth, but he was gazing at the night sky just as she had before. Silence sat between them again as Jean slowly pulled her eyes away from Noah and turned her attention back to the sky.

“How do you know you love me?” Noah suddenly asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do know. You have at least twenty-five reasons. I have proof.”

Jean’s brows scrunched up, and she growled. “Then why are you asking if you already know?”

“Just to hear it from you.”

Jean growled again. “Are you playing with me, Mathews?”

“I think it would be rude if I was.” Noah replied.

Jean didn’t really have to think about it. She had months to sort out her feelings. She loved him for moments like the one they were sharing now. Her heart was racing, and her fingers were numb. Noah's arrogance made her want to scream, yet even though her body was in chaos, warmth smoothly scourged within her, and she secretly carried a smile that reached her eyes.

“I know because you make me so angry so much, and I swear I just want to hit you or something, bu-“

“You know you love me because you like abusing me?”

“But! I still genuinely care for you, and I think it’s the most amazing thing in the world when your guard’s let down the moment you smile.”

She could hear the grin in Noah’s voice as he said, “You’re still such a hopeless romantic.”

“You asked, so shush!” Jean turned to glare at him, but she was met with sparkling hazel eyes and a giddy, sheepish smile.

“Logically, we wouldn’t work out, you know.” Noah said.

That was a stab to the chest.

“I know.” Was all Jean could say.

“I mostly live in New York, and you’re in Bakersfield.”

“I know.”

“We’d only be able to see each other every six months or so.”

“I know…”

“And we’d barely be able to talk to each other because of West Point regulations.”

Jean frantically shook her head. “I know, Noah. Forget it. It was stupid.”

“Fuck it.”

Jean froze, and her eyes widened a fraction of a second. “W-what?” She had to ask. A comforting hand covered her and held her tight. She held Noah’s gaze as he sat up and beckoned her to sit up with him.

“Are you deaf or something? I said ‘Fuck it.” He held a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and as soon as Jean processed his words, she launched herself into his arms and buried her head in his chest. He drew comforting circles on her back as she sobbed with happiness. Jean hadn’t felt so safe and complete for so long. It was overwhelming and surreal.

“Crazy woman…” Noah whispered affectionately into her ear.

Carefully, Jean raised her head to look at him and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.

“But you like crazy.”

Noah's gaze softened before he gently brushed his lips adoringly to Jean’s forehead.

“Yea,” And there was that amazing smile of his. “I guess I do.”
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HanakoHeals
Hanako
364.18
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#3
Old 02-05-2010, 02:21 AM

Drabble: 15

Characters: Jean Maglaya

Fandom: own story-untitled

Rating: PG

Summary: Jean Maglaya has her own reasons for not sleeping at night

Word Count: 341

It was a comfort she was afraid of. She rather read or take another shower or sit at her desk attempting to let her mind wander aimlessly again. Sure, the dreamland could be fun for awhile, but the idea of fast forwarding to the beginning of the endless cycle called reality made the dreamland seem like a nightmare in disguise.

She couldn’t sleep. She wanted to, but, no, she couldn’t.

Sleep meant giving into the new day to come, a new day she knew would be just like any other. She would wake up, then stare at the ceiling and think, “Is there anything else?” only to realize that, no, that was it. Life was boring, and adventure only came in dreams.

Her mirror told her she was tired. Day after day, lines etched deeper and deeper into her once youthful, playful face. The healthy glow that seemed to always surround her was dimmed and barely there. How long would it take until she drained herself completely? But, more importantly, why didn’t she care?

It was because sleep was a monster that she needed to run from. If she didn’t the cycle would never end. She couldn’t live a life of nothingness again. She rather be trapped between the end of life and the start of another adventure than start another cycle.

When sleep came, she wanted to curl underneath her comforters and watch it pass her by. Sometimes she succeeded, too. Sometimes she would lie down and stare at her mirror watching as the colors of her room changed from black to yellow to blue as time went by. Couldn’t that be her dreamland?

No, because on most nights, her soul was devoured and she was forced to surrender. Her bed sheets became seductive sirens beckoning her to fall into their grasps. She was no great hero. She would fall. She would blink, and then blink again, until finally succumbing to the dreamland.

And in the morning, she would once again be forced to live a life worth nothing.

Turtle Kid
(-.-)zzZ
103.42
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#4
Old 02-08-2010, 11:35 AM

93. Cliche
Rated: PG-13 (death)
Summary: Hero defeats Evil Overlord. Kind of.

Hero panted in exhaustion, tears coursing down his cheeks in a manly, rugged fashion that somehow didn't hinder his sight. His True Love gasped her last breath, blood dribbling down her chin and staining the top of her bodice. The rest of the party distracted Evil Overlord so that the two could have their last moments together, and now. . . .

Now, Evil Overlord would pay.

Hero stood up dramatically, wind wooshing through the detroyed doors at just the right moment to coif his hair in the just-rolled-out-of-bed fashion. He held up his True Love's magical staff, drew back his arm, gave a blood-curdling cry, and threw with all his might.

Evil Overlord turned from the distraction Hero's friends were providing just in time to get a chest full of wood. He gasped in shock and pain, stumbled back clutching at the pole. He looked down for a few moments before looking up to stare at Hero. "You . . . a mere boy . . . how can this. . . ?" His eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he collapsed on the ground. . . .

"AAAAAHHHHH!!!" Evil Overlord sat bolt upright in bed, panting, looking around. After a few moments he relaxed and said, "Oh--just a dream." He laughed at himself. "Of course--I've already made sure I'm immortal." He thought of his only weakness, hidden where no one would find it (in his safety deposit box), and went back to a restfull night's sleep, ready to raise his subject's taxes and order more executions in the morning.

smexy.buddah
(-.-)zzZ
293.96
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#5
Old 05-31-2010, 04:48 PM

69. Apple Tea
Summary: This is about the reconciliation of a long feud between a grandmother and granddaughter.
Word Count: 1287
Rating: PG13
Comment with some helpful feedback, please :3

The phone was ringing and the alarm had NOT gone off yet. Madeline groaned. She lifted her hand and brought
the digital clock closer to her face to read the time. From the glowing green came the time 2:12. The clock had definitely not gone off yet.
Madeline groaned again as the phone let off another round of noisy ringing. She should have gone back to sleep. She should have put the pillow over her head and let the phone ring it's self to a technological death. But what if it was an emergency? What if someone was hurt, or her sister-in-law was going into an early labor?
The bed creaked as Madeline shimmied her way out of it and down the mansion's hall to her phone. She picked the annoying device up, pressed talk, and held it to her ear.
"Hello? This is Madeline Bourgie speaking."
"Hello! Dear? Is that really you? Well, I really wouldn't know, since we haven't seen each other in so long!"
Madeline almost dropped the phone at the sound of her grandmother's voice. She was honestly shocked to her the woman on her phone. They had been feuding for years.
"Gram? Is that you?" she asked, uncertain. She pinched herself to make sure it wasn't a dream.
"Yes, honey. It's me."
Madeline choked, her tears almost spilling over. "Is. . . Is there something that you need?" The question seemed harsh to Madeline, but why else would Gram have called her after hating her all of these years?
"Yes, child. Yes there is. I need you to come down here. I know that it's late and all but. . . but. . ." she could hear her grandmother's sobs on the other end of the line, which only made her own tears worse. "I've realized how foolish I've been all these years. I want to make up, and I want to do it now. I just. . . I can't." Louder sobs this time. Madeline held her hand over her mouth to keep her own choking cries to herself, even though Gram could probably still hear them.
"I just can't die with our relationship like this. . . I just. . ."
" I'll be there. I'm headed over there right now, Gram." God it felt so good to call her grandmother by her shortened nick name. Never again would a family reunion be awkward and formal between the two.
"Thank you, dear." Madeline made quick work of the goodbyes, and jumped into her car, still in her jammies. She didn't want her grandmother to question whether or not Madeline really wanted to be grandmother and granddaughter again by making her wait. As she drove, she thought of the first thing that had driven the two apart.
It had all began with her grandfather's death. Grandma had always loved her son more than anything, and thought the house should belong to him and his family. But, in that time, the man owned everything, so the will was made out to his dead daughter's two children, Madeline and her brother wouldn't have to leave the place they were familiar with when they died. When Madeline and her brother were children, Gram was alright with it. But when Robbie moved out and got married, making the house solely Madeline's, Gram had tried to take it from her, saying that she was old enough to move out.
Madeline said no, Gram sued. Madeline won, Gram hated her forever. They had fought every reunion, or just flat out ignored one other, as if the other didn't exist. Madeline had hated the rift between them, but she couldn't give up her house! It was her home!
But all of that was in the past now, because her and Gram could make up. To Madeline, her Gram didn't even have to apologize, just make it know that she wanted a relaxing of their strained relation, and Madeline would deliver.
She pulled up into the driveway, and ran up her grandmothers porch stairs to the door. She knocked as gently as her adrenaline would allow, and waited. Their was a shuffling in the house, and the creak of a chair became known to her ears.
The door opened, letting out a warm light. In a rush, Madeline hugged her grandmother with all of her soul, happy she was allowed the touch after so long. "Gram," she breathed.
"Oh, dear! You must have rushed over here. You got here in ten minutes, and it takes at least twenty for such a long ride!"
"Yes'm"
"Come in. Relax for a while. I made both of us my apple tea, just like I used to when we had tea parties. Remember?"
Madeline did. It was the best tea she had ever tasted, and nothing had yet to beat it to this very day. She nodded her head and allowed her grandmother to usher her inside to the dining room. She was seated, as her gram disappeared into the kitchen.
"I'm so happy that you want us to be friends again. I really hated it when we weren't!" Madeline called out in a rush, her happiness making her words cramped and hurried. "And your just in time, too! Robbie's wife is having her baby soon! We can all be there when he's born. It's a boy, by the way."
Gram came out and smiled at Madeline. Madeline smiled back. She continued to talk of all the events her grandmother had missed on her side of the family, sparring her no detail. She promised Gram the birthing tapes of Micheal, Robbie's first son, as Gram poured them both tea.
Madeline finally shut her mouth when the apple tea's smell hit her nose. "Mmm," she breathed, picking up the cup to get a better smell.
"I'm pleased that we two can be friends, too, sweet heart." Gram said, putting a bit of sugar in her tea. "To new beginnings!" she said, lifting her rose-painted china cup. Madeline copied the movement with a smile and tipped her cup back lazily, gulping back the contents. Her body froze. Her grandmother got up with a groan, walked around the table, and took the cup from her hands.
"Can't have you breaking my good china, now can I?" she asked, setting the now empty cup down on it's saucer.
Breath. Needed breath. Madeline needed breath. She tried. She failed. She tried again. She hurt. Her body struggled on the inside, but her outside self was delicately calm, absolutely frozen in every way.
"Help. Please." She tried to scream. There were other houses nearby, with people that might help, but her mouth wouldn't move. Nothing on her would move. All while Madeline's inner struggle had been going on, her grandmother had been talking.
"It doesn't matter who sees me, or how much evidence they get on me. I'm going to die soon, anyway. Doctor said so. So you see, dear, as my son's family is next in line for entitlement, with you out of the way, all of my dreams can come true."
She looked straight into Madeline's face with hatred. "A daughter should never inherit. It brings a family's name down."
Madeline a little while later, the lack of oxygen in her lungs dragging her soul down into a darkness she tried desperately to get away from. All the while, she heard all of the reason's she should have died sooner from her grandmother's mouth. The words bounced around in her head as she died.
But, hey, at least she got to taste that wonderful apple tea before she went. It was the best, and nothing Madeline had tasted, to this day, had ever beat it's lovely taste.

----------

72. Stilettos
Summary: Everybody loves stilettos, right?
Word Count: 430
Rating: PG13

Stilettos.
A working woman's little helper. Making big feet smaller. Making gross feet sexier. Making short women taller, and tall woman amazonian.
Stilettos.
Making men into women. Women into Aphrodities. Making men in cars want enough to pay large amounts of cash.
Stilettos.
Cover corners and alleys, their wearer's probably just jonesin' for the next hit. Taken off for a quick get away, put back on for a quick buck.
Stilettos
Found on dead women, scantily clad or even naked. Found discarded in a dingy place, or in a teenage boy's room.
Stilettos,
Made in every size, shape, color and fabric.
Stilettos,
Made for anyone, anytime, anyplace.

I watched her from my car. She was beautiful, in a disgusting kind of way. And I wondered why. Why does she have to be disgusting to me? Because this is supposed to be wrong? Because the world looks down on this?
The world would look down on me, too, if they saw what was in my head. Me, wishing to be even a molecule like her. Wishing I had her lovely hair. Her lovely eyes, or walk, or face, or breasts. Maybe then the world would see how beautiful I am. How much they want me.
But the thing that attracted me most to her were her stilettos. I had seen them in a store, the name of it now blurred from my mind. They were gorgeous, and I had stopped to stare, getting strange looks from passers-by. But I had wanted them so much. So damn much.
And here she was, a woman with all I wanted to be, and something I wanted to have.
She moved down to the next street. I started up my car and did likewise. I could tell she knew I was following her. She looked at me strangely, with fear for a moment, then with lust. She swung her hips just a little more, and pushed her hair behind her ear.
I made my decision.
As she stopped on the next corner, I pulled up.
"I was wonderin' when you'd ever come and ask me out!" she said loudly, alcohol on her breath. "Full dates are forty-five, baby." This one was quieter, said as she leaned into his rolled-down window, showing him her full expanse of breast.
"Hop in." he said, handing her five hundred for the night. She smiled, counting the money. She went to the passenger side, opened the door, and stepped in daintily, for all she was drunk, flashing him those perfect cheetah print stilettos. Maybe she would let him wear them.

Last edited by smexy.buddah; 05-31-2010 at 05:09 PM.. Reason: forgot the rating?

 


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