You can thank the wonderful OTP prompt generators I found for supplying the number of ideas for this chapter. (If you want to know, the URL is prompts.neocities.org. There's also another one I'll probably use in the future, URL is kogami.tumblr.com/fluffgen.

Technically, a drabble is described as a story with 100 words or less, but in my case, drabbles are stories that are smaller than the usual 700+ word oneshot, maybe around 200-400 words. Anyway, enjoy!

Prankage Failure - Scar x Grian

(WC: 344)

After the tripwires on the staircase, the hidden wither rose trap, and the exploding doorway, Scar thought Grian couldn't disarm another trap. 

But no. He found the zombie bomb and the trapped chest. He slid past the hidden magma blocks, evaded the piston squisher, and made Bob the Creeper explode himself.

Grian chuckled as he watched Bob go boom. "Oh, Scar. When will you learn?"

Scar hid behind one of Grian's large pillars in his item sorter room. He had drunk an invisibility potion just in case. He had waited patiently in this room for two hours, waiting to see how many traps Grian would set off.

The answer: None of them. It was insulting. Scar had spent hours designing the traps, only to have Grian squeeze past them as if nothing happened. 

Grian was searching the room. He knew Scar was still here, didn't he? Well, good thing he drank that invisibility potion--

Grian's eyes trained on him. "Scar," he said, obviously trying not to burst into laughter, "You forgot to take your armor off."

Scar looked down, and he saw his pants and boots still on. He was glad he was invisible at that moment, because he could feel his face heating up rapidly. 

"Come out, Scar." Grian walked up to him and nudged him playfully. "I can still see you, you know."

"Did you like the traps I set?" Scar said, trying not to die from embarrassment. 

"Uh...Scar, you left the Redstone exposed on most of the traps. And I could hear the zombies groaning. And see the magma blocks. You even left a sizable crater where your first TNT trap must've failed."

Scar blushed even more. Grian could obviously sense his discomfort, so he tried to hold back from razzing him even more. 

"Hey. If it makes you feel better, I thought you did a good job on those traps. As a person who doesn't do Redstone often, I can only imagine how long that took for you to construct."

"Thanks," Scar said, even though he still felt plenty embarrassed. 

Existential Crisis - Bdubs x Keralis

(WC: 270)

"Bubbles. Pssst. Bubbles." 

Bdubs was shaken by Keralis, who was lying down next to him.

He turned over, feeling the blanket get tangled around his body. In a half-awake stupor, he muttered, "What do you want?" 

"My future self is probably having memories of what I'm doing right now." Keralis sounded wide awake.

Still in a haze, Bdubs idly wondered why that thought mattered at the moment. "Okay. I'm going back to sleep."

"No, no, hear me out." Keralis nudged him. "What if there was an alternate reality for every single decision you've made? Like, there could be a universe where you're with Doc right now and I'm with xB. You know, to satisfy the shippers."

"Yeah, yeah, cool." Bdubs could feel his eyelids drooping. He turned around again and was faced with Keralis, whose eyes were wide open--well, wider than they should have been at 1 AM. 

"Bubbles, listen. No one thinks about you the same way you do. Everyone has a different way of how they interpret you."

"Hey, this sounds great and all, but I'm the sleep king. I have a reputation to uphold and I need to make it day. So...could you let me sleep? Please?"

"Buuuubbles." Keralis fidgeted on his side of the bed. "There's no present. As soon as we do something it automatically becomes the past. Me saying this is now in the past. So is this. There's no actual present."

Bdubs was too tired to figure out what that meant. "Cool. Well, I'm going to sleep. Good night."

"You saying that is now in the past."

"Good night to you too, Keralis."

Cooking - Mumbo x Tango

(WC: 444)

Once the stove exploded, Mumbo was pretty sure they were in trouble.

Tango leaned over the large pot, his face beaded with sweat. "I've got this, Mumby."

"I didn't ask if you did. I know you don't got this." Mumbo leaned against the back wall, as far away from Tango as possible. With how things were going, the pot would probably explode in a few minutes.

"It's fine," Tango said, though he seemed to be reassuring himself more than Mumbo. He feverishly stirred the pot. The smell coming from it was horrible, it made Mumbo gag from his hiding spot across the room.

"No, it's not," Mumbo said. He wanted to walk out of the room, but if Tango was going to explode, he was going too. "What's the death message going to say in chat? 'Tango was exploded by the oven'?"

"More like 'Tango was slain by stupidity'," Tango muttered, and to prove his point, he kept on stirring.

"I swear to god, Tango."

"Love you too, Mumbo." Tango dumped half a can of salt into the mixture. "I think that's enough..."

"You don't know what you're doing, do you."

"Pfft--what? Of course I do! Why wouldn't I? My mom taught me this recipe when I was a kid. She made it for me so many times I practically have it memorized. We'll be fine."

"Oh, yeah? How many cups of salt are you supposed to add?"

"How many?" Tango repeated. "Whatever was in that can of salt." He leaned back as the mixture made a loud pop, causing some of the hot liquids to jump up.

"No, you dolt. Don't you know that salt is supposed to be used in moderation?"

"Like you know anything about cooking!" Tango turned to Mumbo, leaving his cooking at high temperature. "You're just standing there! Come and help me, you big baby."

The mixture inside the pot was starting to boil over.  "Tango...your pot..." Mumbo pushed himself as far away as possible.

Tango looked back and paled. "Oh, no."

He jumped toward Mumbo as the pot exploded. The two of them landed in an awkward position on the ground. Tango had taken most of the fall and was covered in the remains of his cooking. Mumbo had been slammed against the wall headfirst. He extracted himself from Tango and groaned slightly.

"Well. I think that went alright." Tango sat up and started to clean himself.

"Alright? How the hell did you explode a pot!?"

"Don't underestimate me, Mumby! I'm the master at explosions." He got up and headed to the door. "You, me. Same time, same place next week. I'll try baking some muffins next time!"

Dumb Jokes - Bdubs x Doc

(WC: 452)

"Hey. Hey, Doc."

Bdubs walked over to Doc's side of the half-house with a large grin. "Doc. Doc, guess what."

Doc looked up from his chests and glanced at Bdubs. "What?"

"What do you call a pig that does karate?"

Doc was caught slightly off guard. "Hmm?"

"What do you call a pig that does karate?" Bdubs repeated, still grinning stupidly.

"I dunno. What?" 

"A pork chop." He slapped his knee and laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.

"Oh my god, Bdubs." Doc rolled his eyes and went back to work.

"Oh, come on!" Bdubs grinned wider. "No response? I'm just gonna stay here and tell you jokes until you laugh."

"Well, you'll be staying here forever." Doc pulled out a broken pickaxe, then put it back.

"Okay, okay, lemme think." Bdubs kept quiet for a moment, then snapped his fingers. "Did you hear about the Italian chef who died?"

"Oh, gee, that's terrible," Doc muttered sarcastically.

Bdubs forged on. "He pasta way! Ba-dum tiss!" He mimicked hitting the cymbal on a drum, then waited for Doc to laugh.

Doc didn't even bother making eye contact with him. "Your jokes are so basic, not to mention corny." 

"Got a tough audience, huh? Alright, how 'bout this." Bdubs leaned against the wall. "What did the big flower say to the little flower?"

When Doc didn't answer, he delivered the punchline: "Hi, bud!"

Doc rolled his eyes and snorted. "Geez. Your jokes are so bad I want to laugh."

Bdubs perked up. "Yeah, that's right! Laugh!"

"Har har har," Doc said unenthusiastically. 

"Are these jokes really not making you laugh?" Bdubs sounded slightly disappointed. "C'mon, I worked hard on these..."

If he was doing the old guilt-trip method, Doc had to give it to him. He couldn't let Bdubs down. "Hey. Tell me one last joke."

Bdubs looked up. "Uh...okay. Um...what do you call a person who doesn't fart in public?"

"I don't know, what do you call a teacher who doesn't fart in public?" Doc closed his chest and made eye contact with Bdubs.

Bdubs raised an eyebrow, probably wondering why Doc was suddenly so cooperative. He smiled slightly. "A private tutor."

Doc made it look like he was suppressing a smile. It wasn't that hard, actually--Bdubs was trying his best to make him laugh, which he appreciated. 

"I did it?" Bdubs sounded genuinely pleased. "I made you laugh! Oh, the almighty GOATfather, taken down by a fart joke, of all things." Bdubs raised his arms as if praising the Minecraft gods. Doc wanted to correct him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. 

The thing that was making him smile the most was the fact that Bdubs was happy.