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whereistheonepiece · 4 months

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I keep thinking about some anti fandom OC person I saw. Luckily I don't see this sentiment often, but I do know this person had a lot of people who agree with them, and their argument reminds me of an opinion a high school friend had.

So their argument was you shouldn't make an OC for the fandom you like. You should make your own series with its own characters. It reminds me of a high school friend who was against fanfiction for the very same reason... Until he ended up changing his mind and writing a fanfic of his favorite character from his favorite cartoon getting buff and getting together with a character he shipped him with. Funny how that works.

Anyway, I've been turning this thought around in my head. A lot of people in fandom will say the fanfic argument is stupid and unreasonable, but will agree with the fandom OC thing.

Why? Probably because OCs are "cringe" and inaccessible. Some people haven't gotten past the Mary Sue/Gary Stu/Marty Stu discourse (although let's be real here - it's mostly Mary Sue discourse) that somehow refuses to die. They see an OC and think they're all Ebony Darkness Dementia Raven Way. But you know, I think we need to let go of the fear of overpowered and super special unique OCs in certain fandoms, like cartoons and anime and certain genres. We are not dealing with realism in these instances, where overpowered and super special unique characters abound. Also I think, for the most part (unless the OC creator invites it), it's kind of frowned upon to treat a smaller creator's OC as your own character, with headcanons and projecting yourself onto them. It's not good form to treat a smaller creator's OC like your doll, like we all do with our blorbos. (Where the limit is, I don't know. It's something I've been turning around in my head for years.) I have seen several people say they'd rather read a self insert OC fic than a fic with a regular fandom OC. Why get to know a new character you assume is going to be poorly written when you can project your qualities and interests onto a barely there avatar?

And like. If we're going to argue we should make our own characters, because the series we create fic and art for are not our intellectual property, I think we should take this argument to its logical conclusion. Why are we creating art for our fandoms at all, be it fanfic or fanart. After all, it's not our series that we created. And all of us have ideas and interpretations for characters that are odds with the creator's original vision by virtue of us being completely separate people, never mind headcanons and AUs that are often completely at odds with canon portrayal. We all do it, don't lie. And even if you can argue a piece of fanfic or fanart, aka transformative art, is completely in line with canon and the creator's vision, why don't you just create your own world and characters, hm?

And on the "official" side of things, why do we have so many reboots and reimaginings and spinoffs of legacy properties? Think Scooby Doo, TMNT, comic books, sequels to movies that came out decades ago, anything with Star in the title. If it's not being helmed by the original creator (or maybe with their input and blessing, but I'm not feeling very generous because the original argument isn't), that's just someone playing with characters and a world they didn't create. Is it okay because it's done by professionals for profit?

Probably.

Anyway. People create fanart and fanfic because the original work has moved them in some way, good or bad. I just think we should extend that level of understanding to people who want to create OCs for their favorite fandoms.

#personal

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wasabito · 4 years

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had so much fun writing for my baby boy tendou, so here’s my entry for the hqhq sfw server collab! be sure to check out the rest on the masterlist found here! enjoy ✨

words: 3.0k

prompt: “you woke me up at 3am for this?”

synopsis: your neighbor is ridiculous, kind of annoying and little bit on the weird side, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

You had to be the biggest idiot on the planet—an obvious exaggeration, yes, but you were still inclined to believe it was true.

How else could you explain the feeling of being so utterly fed up with one’s actions like this? Were there enough words in the dictionary to describe just how exhausted you were by your own antics, more specifically, your forgetfulness since that’s what had landed you in a world of pain and embarrassment?

The answer was no.

You sat with your back pressed against your front door, head in your hands and chin tucked between your raised knees and chest. At your side was your wallet along with stacks of newspapers, coupons and whatever else had been stuffed in your mailbox, bills probably. Advertisements too. Honestly, it was hard to be happy about a new restaurant opening up down the block when you were currently stuck—locked out of your apartment to be precise.

The landlord of your cheap little complex wasn’t expected to be back for another hour according to the sign posted outside of his office. So until then, you’d remain posted up by your doorstep like some loiterer.

You shifted in place and blew a puff of air from your lips, feeling little pinpricks in your legs. For the fifth time in the last forty-five minutes you felt like kicking yourself, hard.

The sun hung low, nearly touching the distant horizon signifying the end of another day. Even the sky was painted a warm umber, casting dim shadows.

“Locked out, huh?” came a snide, but accented voice.

It took you way longer than necessary to realize that suddenly you weren’t the only person on this floor. God, where was your head at?

A pair of forest green crocs stood before you, complete with a few odd charms and trinkets. A cartoon volleyball, pinned next to a smiley face, a donut and a gaudy “i heart paris” chain dangling from the ankle strap. A person’s shoes could say a lot about who they were...your mother thought so, at least.

Resisting the urge to projectile vomit all over this stranger’s rather questionable taste in footwear, your wary gaze panned upward, glossing over white tube socks and a pair of the longest legs you’ve ever seen on a person—yet another exaggeration. You came face to face with a crooked smile. Curious ruby eyes returned your stare with almost the same amount of scrutiny.

Who the hell was this guy?

Mystery-man easily towered over you, and not only because you were hunched over and sitting. He was tall as hell, all lanky build, gangly arms and legs disguising lithe muscle and a surprisingly sturdy frame. He looked like the i-run-every-morning type; semi-athletic at the very least. His buzzed hair was the color of cinnamon, no that wasn’t right, paprika maybe? Either way, it contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, so much so that you could see the faint blue of the veins in his arms.

“Yoohooo, anybody hooome?” He tilted his head at you.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah, I’m locked out. I forgot my key inside and Mr. Laurent won’t be back until later.”

“Hmm. That sucks...”

“...Um… do I… do I know you or something? You look a little familiar.”

He pinned you with a funny look, before pulling out a set of keys from the back pocket of his shorts.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t~ I mean we are neighbors, after all.” Laughing as if he’d made some sort of joke, he entered his apartment with a twirl and a dramatic wave of his arms.

You stared at his door for a solid minute, only to finally succumb to your urges and facepalm at your own idiocy. Of course he looked familiar, how could he not when he literally lived four feet away.

With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for another hour spent sitting outside your front door. It wasn’t like there was any other place you could go or anyone you could call. The battery icon on your phone blinked red, warning that it was soon to run out of juice. Guess that meant no Among Us or Subway Surfer for you.

Five minutes later, the door next to you opened. It was Mystery-man again, but this time, he sat in front of his door, just like you were. And he did so with a bag of pretzels and a jar of nutella in hand.

“Must be bored out here by yourself.” He crunched on a pretzel before offering you the bag to take some. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya company.”

You weren’t sure why, but there was something about this guy that intrigued you. You half-wondered if it was the funny little curl of his smile, or the wideness of his eyes that made it seem like he was looking at all of you, all at once.

"You must be pretty bored...uh,"

"Satori Tendou, but most people call me Tendou. Miracle boy works just fine too."

"Right... Tendou, as I was saying, you must be incredibly bored to come sit out here with me. You sure you don't have anything important to do?"

Tendou's grinned widened. "Positive! And it costs me nothing to be neighborly, so don't even sweat it."

That was...nice of him?

If sitting outside with you was the way he wanted to spend his late Tuesday afternoon who were you to deny him? And truthfully, you didn't mind the company, at least not really. Provided this guy wasn't some creepy-stalker-weirdo, you were sure there wasn't any harm in getting to know the person who lived one door over.

"So, Tendou, how long have you lived in the area? You don't really look like you're from around here...I could be wrong."

Tendou raised a thin brow at you. "Weeeell, if you're asking about how long I've lived next door, it would be about three maybe four months give or take, but if you're asking how long I've lived in Paris, it would be a year next month. Speaking of, I think Semisemi has a birthday coming up..."

You watched as he pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at the illuminated glass screen. You couldn't help but notice the goofy little anime stickers on his phone case. One in particular caught your attention.

“Is that...Kirara? From Inuyasha??”

“Oho! So, you recognize this?”

Backtracking, you mumble out, “Ah, well…only a little.” Though your face was turned away, the tiny smile on your lips was not hidden from Tendou and he thought you were pretty cute.

Funnily enough, what you had expected to be a rather unnerving and possibly creepy exchange turned out to be anything but. Tendou was incredibly fun to talk to—a bit teasing and a little overwhelming with his superfluous hand movements and gestures. But he was funny and a lot kinder that you would’ve given him credit for.

You learned that he was originally from Japan; it explained his accented French. He had come to Paris right out of high school to study culinary arts in one of the most renowned countries for it. Now he worked as a chocolatier, under the tutelage of a master patisserie in the city, an older man who was both a creative genius and a thorn in Tendou’s side. Tendou spoke of his teacher with equal parts awe and annoyance.

And he got to know you too. How you’d found yourself in Paris, thousands of miles away from home in an effort to rediscover yourself in the city full of rich history and culture.

You didn’t have many friends here, and it truly was a pleasure to make his acquaintance.

Soon, you both heard the telltale sound of jangling keys as your landlord rounded the corner with his clipboard in hand. Once you were able to get your door open, you waved a goodbye to Tendou.

“Thanks for keeping me company, you really didn’t have to.”

“No biggie, it was fun!” He threw a mischievous little grin and a peace-sign over his shoulder and reentered his apartment.

You found yourself wanting to cross paths with him again, and hopefully in better circumstances. But you hadn't known your wishful thinking was soon to manifest as you ambled through grocery store aisles a week later, eyeing down any items with pictures on it.

“Why in the hell is this toilet paper so expensive.” You mumbled.

“So, you complain about the price of toilet paper, but wear sneakers that cost two-thirds our rent.” That voice sounded familiar, and after hearing it for about an hour just days ago, you were a bit surprised you could recognize it so quickly.

Stunned, you looked up to find Satori Tendou, your quirky neighbor with an arm full of pita chips, a milk carton, and baby carrots.

“I never said I made the best choices.” You found yourself smiling despite the previous crease in your brow. “...Dude, get a cart before you drop everything.”

Instead of getting his own, he simply dumped what he had into your cart with a teasing grin. You couldn’t argue with his logic there. Tendou sidled up against you, once again towering over you with a kind of ease that should be criminal. “Need help reading something?”

You wanted to say no. You almost said no. But swallowing your pride, you gave a weak nod. “Yeah, this word right here.” Pointing to the unfamiliar script printed on the label. “What the heck is this?”

“Weeeeell, looks like that brand is scented, ya know, for when ya—”

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence...please.”

You quickly grab what you need and continue on down the aisle with Tendou following closely behind.

Just like when you’d first met him, he made conversation the entire way. By the time you both made it to the cash registers, you’d argued at least three times over french pronunciations and whether cashews were the cousin of peanuts.

And just as last time, he left you with a grin and a peace-sign while you stared after his retreating back, paid groceries in hand.

After an entire day spent baking, you found yourself on Tendou’s doorstep with a tupperware full of baked goodies later the next evening. You had been meaning to thank him for being such a good neighbor to you. It was certainly unexpected, but a welcome gesture nonetheless.

You only had to knock twice before the door was wrenched open and you were greeted with the set of...vanilla? Some pop song played in the background while your neighbor looked at you curiously.

"H-Hey Tendou, I um...I baked you these." You held out the plastic container, hoping he'd simply take it from you without question and you could return to your apartment without somehow embarrassing yourself. "There's a little bit of everything in there, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, macadamia nut—wait you aren't allergic to anything, right?"

"Nooope! Not a thing, thanks neighbor!"

"It was no problem, especially since you've helped me, not once but twice now."

Frowning, you couldn't help but be a little upset with yourself. You'd come to France to prove that you could, in fact, live a normal life outside of your family’s jurisdiction but day by day you were proving to need them more and more.

It was disappointing, to say the least.

"Hmm, what’s with the constipated look on your face. Did the toilet paper not help?” Tendou tilted his head at you with a teasing grin, lips curled at the edges, taunting. You blinked up at him, surprised, and if you were honest, a little annoyed too.

"Hah?!"

"Just thought it was worth a mention, nighty-night~!"

Tendou proceeded to shut the door on you; one hand rested on the frame and the other held on to the cookies. You quickly took a step back lest he chop your entire arm off, ready to trudge off in the direction of your own home but not before sticking your tongue out at him.

Stupid Tendou, always saying stupid shit.

You were on the couch, half asleep when it dawned on you that it had been his own twisted, “Tendou” way of cheering you up.

The rest of the month passed just like that. Occasionally, you would bump into Tendou at the grocery store, or the leasing office, or even the laundromat. And every single time, he’d either make you laugh until your sides hurt or annoyed enough to want to give him a friendly punch. At one point, you two had even exchanged phone numbers, because according to Tendou “it was ridiculous not to have your friends on speedial” which only led to hours spent on Facetime or playing iMessage games.

You knew exchanging numbers would come back to bite you in the ass, it was only a matter of when.

It was clear you weren’t going to any sleep tonight, that was for sure. The incessant buzzing of your cell phone every five minutes was an enemy to your circadian rhythm. You could name on one hand those in your contacts with enough sense to know that you lived in a completely different time zone from them now.

Somehow your neighbor was the very last person you suspected, but it was his contact photo that stared back at you, goofy looking grin and all. You squinted against the brightness of your screen in your otherwise dark bedroom.

you up?

come quick

gotta show ya somethin

come oooon

you're awake, i know you are

It took you less than a minute to shuffle on a pair of slippers, grab your keys (you weren't going to forget them this time) and slip out of your apartment.

You hadn't even knocked twice before the door was pulled open. Tendou looked a mess, more so than usual. Unidentified stains littered the apron looped around his thin waist, streaks of what you hoped were just flour and granulated sugar were all over his hands. You almost wanted to ask if he was baking or dealing dope.

“You woke me up at three in the morning...for this?”

“Yuuup!”

"When I said you could call me at any time, I really didn’t mean any time.” You scratch your side, a contemplative look on your face at the sight of Tendou in what you would assume to be his pajamas. An old volleyball hoodie with the words "Shirazorizawa" printed across the front, and old sweats the were so obviously cut with scissors at the knee.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a curt, “Alright, move aside.”

Tendou ushered you over to his kitchen where several of his cooking supplies laid on the island, along with a tray of some chocolate dessert spread.

“It’s all still in the testing phase, but I think I’m onto something here.”

He was definitely giving off “mad scientist” vibes. You tried not to snort.

Holding a small chocolate cake in his hand, he smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Open wide."

You obeyed, far too tired to argue, and let him pop the treat into your mouth. Tendou watched as you chewed, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. His wide gaze carefully took in every shift in your expression.

"So? Whaddya think?"

"I...," You chewed a bit more. "...It's delicious! Is that—"

"—Pistachio, why yes it is!"

Tendou was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. "It takes the entire thing to a whole new level."

You had to agree with him there. This was probably the best chocolate madeleine you'd ever tasted. "Great work, miracle boy. Will you be introducing this new recipe to Claude?"

Mentioning his teacher seemed to sober him up a bit. "Ehh, maybe? The old man's a bit of traditionalist, so I'll just have to figure out a way to get him to approve."

"Maybe try calling him at three in the morning?"

Tendou stuck his tongue out at you before popping a dessert in his mouth. The pure delight on his face was so contagious, you found yourself smiling just the same. You couldn’t help but admire his passion.

“Hey, Tendou… do you like your job?”

He blinked at you, chewing coming to a slow halt. “Well of course! The pay isn’t the best just yet, but it’s a labor of love. I’m willing to put my all into it at least.”

“Huh… that’s pretty cool.” You wiped your fingers on a nearby rag. “I hope to feel the same one day… if I can figure out what I wanna do.”

“Why not bake? You’re pretty good at it.”

“Oh am I? Last week you said my baking needed some work.”

“Well, duh, but my standards when it comes to confectionaries are impossibly high. Even so, I think you’d be successful as a baker. What’s stopping you from pursuing your labor of love?”

And that was the thing with Tendou. He talked a lot, teased even more, but it was never idle ramblings. Somehow, he always seemed to hit right at the heart of the issue with almost painfully uncomfortable accuracy.

“I don’t really know so…” You looked away, trailing off.

“Either way,” he said and placed a finger under your chin, raising your head until you were looking him in the eye. “I’m rooting for you.”

For a moment, you simply stared, awestruck. It was the first time in a long while someone was actually putting their faith in you, believing in you. He had come blazing into your life unabashed with his easy grins and gaze alight with mischief. His encouraging words, sincerity, sensitivity. Tendou was really incredible.

“Tendou…” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Of course, what are neighbors for.”

BONUS:

Three months later you sat curled up next to Tendou on his sofa, his entire apartment smelled of chocolate cocoa with hints of cinnamon.

Before you was an application. Culinary school.

“You really think I can do this?”

Tendou placed his head on your shoulder with a tiny smirk. “One hundred and twenty percent!”

You pondered for a moment, then decided that if he thought you were up for the challenge then you’d believe him.

“For the record, you probably aren’t supposed to recommend your girlfriend for an interview. You know, conflict of interest and all.”

Tendou laughed and pulled you closer. “Trust me, we’ll be fine, so don’t worry your pretty little head, ‘kay?”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #tendou x reader #tendou satori #satori tendou #satori tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #sabi.writes

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camels-pen · 3 years

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Hey hi hello there

It's currently 2 something in the am and I should really be going to bed but I just- listen okay there's this thing and it's so easy to make a fic out of it but I cannot do that right now

So I'm throwing it into the void here

Alright so I like Static Shock. It was a fun cartoon and i liked it. Recently I was watching an episode that I skipped over in my rewatch a while back and it's just opens so many doors for a good fricken dp crossover fic

Not because of anything logically sound, oh no

It's bc there's just so many things that would be awesome with some dp flair y'know?

Okay brief summary: The episode's called "child's play"; there's a metahuman kid with reality altering powers & his step-brother takes advantage of those powers until Static eventually stops him and the kid realizes he's been tricked into doing bad stuff

Now for the ~important stuff~

the kid, Dwayne McCall, lives at "Fenton Projects"

he has a step-brother who's a jerk, Aaron

one of the characters mentioned that it was snowing vanilla ice cream at the Fenton Projects one day (episode does not take place in winter)

at the beginning of the ep, a big outdoor water fountain turns into cherry soda

Dwayne's teased by jocks at the rec center he goes to after school (kinda) and sends a dog-turned-giant-robot after them to prove a point

Static/Virgil's best friend is named Richie Foley

So uh yes, in conclusion here are my ideas:

Portal mishaps

some kind of return summoning error where Danny convinces his summoner to send him home, but the spell is slightly off so he goes to Fenton Projects instead of Fenton Works

Dwayne types in the wrong address in his gps trying to get on a bus home from school and ends up in a different state heading to Fenton Works

Danny hears about a place snowing vanilla ice cream & fountains with cherry soda and he just nyooms on over to Dakota

Danielle hears about ^ and nyooms on over

Something something looking for Richie's house, but ends up at Tucker's instead (looking for the Foley's house, didn't specify which one)

Idk just, the rare few that move out of Amity Park happening to move to Dakota and ending up accidentally sending a 12 year old to Illinois bc "oh god the Fentons lost a kid, we've gotta help them!" is just too funny to me

Danny and Dwayne would probably be pretty chill with each other if they did meet up at some point; maybe they both go to the same comic con or smth and just,,, vibe- like thinnnnk about it;

->powers that could make people afraid or take advantage of you, hiding your powers from your family only for your sibling to find out later, and most, if not all, of the ppl who might know what you're going through are either hard to reach or trying to commit crimes (how do you call for Static when your powers are acting up from a cold and you need to hide from your mom? how do you get the dumb ghost of time to show his cowardly face and fix shit when you sneeze and accidentally slow down time for everyone within 30m?)

Danny meets Dwayne and comes to the logical conclusion that this kid must've ate the reality gauntlet somehow

Dash meets Dwayne, says/does some things and then nearly gets knocked tf out by a squirrel that turned into sailor moon

Dwayne uses his powers to look like a ghost and the trio freaking out bc they don't understand his powers so they think this kid just randomly turned himself into a full ghost

misunderstandings are so much fun

additional idea:

-> he can't get in touch with Static so Dwayne decides he'll go ask other heroes for help instead. what a smart boy!

-> so he makes a flying something or other (possibly giant Dogcopter) and checks out some heroes on the internet. basically goes "oh neat, a ghost kid! He probably has some time to spare" and he's in illinois in like half a day

-> Danny and team phantom watching this kid ride in on a dog with helicopter blades and being so confused how he isn't a ghost

-> something something *fighting noises* something something "oh, you're not here to fight? cool" something something good vibessss

-> the trio just take him along to explore Amity and Danny and Dwayne have a good time messing around with their powers

-> perhaps a conversation or two about how to manage your powers without a more competent person around to help you? possible angst surrounding hiding a part of yourself from your loved ones? maybe even Dwayne going ape shit for Danny when a ghost comes by and/or vice versa?

-> just two boys, hanging out, maybe going stargazing or smth with friends and chilling. that's it

#gonna b honest i have no clue if hes actually 12 that was just the first number that came to mind #danny phantom #static shock #dp static shock crossover #nemotime #dwayne mccall #i know what you're gonna say but in this crossover im just saying that the farfrozen is far. and frozen-#it takes a while to get there and sp #some* of the yetis are still afraid he might freeze/hit someone with his powers by accident #-it hurts danny a lil but he's got a 'what can you do ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯' attitude about it and generally stays away unless invited #ive lost my train of thought #oh well #for dwayne there arent many metahumans he thinks he can talk to about his powers bc whenever he hears about one they're being arrested #or theyre Static who only shows up during late night patrols when dwaynes asleep or busy chasing after someone #oh OH #maybe thats why dwayne leaves?? ok im adding it to the points #bordering on 4am so thats all folks!

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fanfiction-writers · 8 years

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All for One (Transformers)

Summary: The Seekers are put on a humiliating punishment detail, and only one knows why. Word Count: 1,750+ Warnings: None A/N: This is set in the cartoon G1 Universe, with bits (like personalities) pulled from the G1 IDW comic line. I love Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp and it’s so fun getting these three in trouble.

My Master List is HERE.

(Image by HobbitPunk, found here.)

"Slaggit! This is ridiculous!" Skywarp ranted. "This is not our responsibility. It's… it's demeaning!" Forty-three, Thundercracker silently counted to himself. Forty-three outbursts. His trine brother had been complaining, loudly, since Megatron had assigned them to this cursed duty. Not that he blamed his wingmate. For unknown reasons, the trine had been assigned construction duty. Of all things, construction duty. They were hauling large metal beams over a mountain range. The slagging things were so heavy that the three of them – Starscream, Skywarp and himself – had to use harnesses on them and slowly fly them over the mountains. At this pace, they couldn't even use their altmodes. "Using our superior skills for this! It's insulting!" Skywarp continued. "Shut. Up. Sky. Warp." Starscream bit out each syllable. That made thirty-nine 'shut ups' from Starscream, by Thundercracker's count. The other four times he himself had tired of his wingmate's grousing first. He began timing how long until Skywarp's next outburst. The intervals between each one were becoming gradually shorter. Soon, he believed he could accurately estimate when the next outburst would occur. If nothing else, the extra computations gave him something to do during this infernal duty. "Surely you can see how absurd this is!" Forty-four. And several nano-kliks sooner than Thundercracker anticipated. He filtered the new time into his internal equation. "The best trine in the Decepticon army, and we're forced to do … Constructicon work?" Skywarp released one hand off the harness, waving at the beam they carried. The other two cried out in protest as it began wobbling. "Why us? If he needed fliers, why not some drones? Or the Coneheads? What idiocy possessed Megatron to do this to us?" "Just let it go. And grab that harness before it falls!" Starscream hissed at Skywarp. Thundercracker contemplated whether or not to add this to Starscream's 'shut up' count. 'Let it go,' was probably the mildest order the Air Commander had ever used for silence, but the intent was the same. It would be interesting if the tamer command effected the duration until Skywarp's next tantrum. Intrigued by the new variable, Thundercracker began cross-referencing the inflection of Starscream's commands compared to the time decrease between Skywarp's outbursts. Perhaps stronger inflections caused a smaller time decrease? The hypothesis was worth investigation. While he compiled numbers, he also considered the irony of Starscream refusing to engage in a discussion of Megatron's faults. Their trine leader usually pounced at the chance to ridicule the other mech. It was almost unheard of for him to miss an opportunity. In fact, it was unheard of… Thundercracker halted, forcing the other two to do the same or risk unbalancing the beam. They squawked at the abrupt stop. Ignoring their protests, he turned to Starscream. "What did you do?"

"What do you mean?" Starscream replied, too quickly. "We 'mysteriously' pull the most humiliating shift imaginable for Seekers, and yet it's Skywarp – not you, not you! – who's complaining about Megatron. When have you ever not carried on about our glorious leader? Yet Skywarp brings it up, and you tell him to, 'let it go.' What did you do?" Skywarp turned shocked eyes to the Air Commander. "Screamer?" "Don't call me that! And I didn't do anything," Starscream glanced away, "… much." "What!" "Much?" Thundercracker replied at the same moment. "What didn't you do 'much' of?" Starscream attempted to shrug, but the metal beam's immense weight made the motion impossible while airborn. Instead, he twitched his wings. "It was just a small clerical error. Keep moving. This is heavy." "Actually, I feel like putting it down. 'Warp, that sound good to you?" "’Down’ sounds real good to me," Skywarp replied. Suiting actions to words, he dropped altitude without warning. The others scrambled to match his decent, trying to keep the beam from toppling from their grip. They dropped it unceremoniously into a shallow stream bed. "Amazing," Starscream said, once they stood on solid ground. He considered his trine. "I didn't realize we'd joined the Autobots, becoming a democracy, taking votes. All that tripe." "No, not Autobots," Thundercracker snorted. "We're Decepticons. With that comes the responsibility to question our leaders, confirm that they deserve our loyalty. Is that not what you always say?" "Cute." Starscream's optics narrowed. "So." Thundercracker crossed his arms. "'Clerical error?'" "Yeah, what does that even mean?" Skywarp asked. Starscream threw his arms up in disgust. "It was nothing. Remember when the Aerialbots attacked our supply depot, three deca-cycles ago? Several munitions crates were destroyed. I assisted in the clean up. A few crates of explosives were mistakenly reported as destroyed. Some Constructicons discovered them recently, undamaged." Skywarp glanced at Thundercracker, then back at the Air Commander. He shrugged. "That's it? Finding extra weapons is usually a good thing. That's glitched." "Precisely my point. It was nothing." Thundercracker had plenty of experience listening to Starscream's narratives and, more important, listening to what was not said. He raised an optic ridge. "Where exactly did they find these explosives?" Starscream awarded him with an annoyed glance. "Is that important?" "Yes. Even more so now, since you don't want to answer." Skywarp's shoulders slumped as he considered his trine leader. "Screamer, you didn't…" "Do not call me that!" Starscream growled. Glancing between the two other Seekers, he shook his head. Surrendering, he listed off the coordinates where the crates had been found. Coordinates that were not only no where near the supply depot, but actually on the far side of their base from it. "You must not have hid them very well, huh?" Skywarp asked, shaking his head. "They were hidden. They were in a cave. I collapsed the slagging entrance. There was no way to see them, or the cave." "But…?" Thundercracker prompted. "I don't know. Maybe someone else saw me over there. For whatever reason, our glorious leader sent the Constructicons to the area. 'For raw materials,' I believe the excuse was. It took them a few deca-cycles, but they found the crates." "Did you ever consider, y'know, moving them once you realized they were digging over there?" Skywarp asked. "I don't credit the Constructicons with an access of mental prowess, but they might have noticed me flying in empty-handed, and flying away loaded down with crates. Especially if Megatron sent them there to investigate me." Thundercracker shook his head. Starscream stockpiling explosives didn't surprise him. When it came to ways to overthrow Megatron, his trine leader was always exploring new and creative options. It took more than a few crates of munitions to surprise him anymore. Although he had to ask, "How many other stashes do you have, that Megatron doesn't know about?" "I'm shocked, Thundercracker," Starscream replied, sounding anything but. He didn't even attempt to hide his smirk. "Concealing weapons and explosives would be deceitful and traitorous. A loyal Decepticon would, of course, turn all munitions he obtained into base, where they would strengthen our cause. Suggesting I would do otherwise insults my," Starscream waved a hand idly, considering, "my… integrity. My honor. I am upset you even consider me capable of such duplicity." The three Seekers glanced between each other. Then Skywarp burst into laughter. Even Thundercracker couldn't hold a straight face. With a wicked grin, Starscream pretended to buff a scuff from his arm. "That's hilarious," Skywarp said. "Seriously, though, if you'd hid that slag better, Megatron wouldn't have found it." "Please," Starscream scoffed, "do you know how long I've been able to hide weapons from him?" "Apparently, three deca-cycles," Thundercracker raised an optic ridge. "After all, to suggest otherwise would insult your integrity and honor." "Yes, of course," Starscream said, innocently, "three deca-cycles." Thundercracker rubbed his temples. He was developing a processor ache: a common side effect when dealing with too much of Starscream's rationalizations. "Fine. Whatever. This still doesn't explain how 'Warp and I got dragged into," he gestured at the neglected beam, "this." "Oh. That." Starscream looked away. "Yes, ‘that’." Thundercracker crossed his arms. "I'm sure interested in ‘that’ too," Skywarp chimed in. Starscream shrugged. "Megatron was unimpressed with me having the explosives– " "Imagine that," Skywarp interrupted, glancing at Thundercracker. "–and informed me that if I enjoyed playing in the dirt, he could find something 'suitable' for me to do. Then he assigned me to move these." Starscream kicked the metal beam. "Assigned you. Not us. You. At what point did we get volunteered for this?" Thundercracker asked. "I pointed out a flaw in Megatron's logic." The Air Commander shrugged again. "Wait," Thundercracker raised a hand, stalling him. "Let me guess. You informed him that these are far too heavy for one Seeker to carry?" "Basically, yes." "Thanks, Screamer. Really, I mean that." Skywarp muttered. "Stop calling me that!" "What, exactly, did you think he'd do once you pointed that out?" Thundercracker asked, rubbing his temples. Yes, he was definitely developing a processor ache. "I thought he'd give me something, anything, else to do. I didn't want to haul these things around. Would you?" "Funny you should ask," Thundercracker replied, "because, no, really I don’t want to." "Why didn't Megs just beat the slag outta you? That's what he usually does." Skywarp didn't pretend to sound concerned about his Air Commander's physical well-being. "Yeah, well, he did that too," Starscream grumbled. Thundercracker considered his trine leader, arms crossed. "I suppose I should thank you. After all, if I weren't here, doing this wonderful chore because of you, I would be probably be doing something even more tedious: like attacking Aerialbots, or fighting Autobots, perhaps blowing something up. You know, boring stuff like that." He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "But now, I have the exciting opportunity to explore a new career as a Constructicon. Thank you, Starscream." "Shut up," Starscream said, but without any vehemence. "Are you two done complaining? We still have to get these slagging things moved." The two wingmates exchanged glances. "Why should we help you? This is your punishment." "Because if you don't, I'm won't finish this. And when Megatron comes asking why we're not done, he won't just come after me. You'll share any punishment I get. So, by all means, do nothing. Enjoy Megatron's wrath. I know he will." Starscream leaned against a boulder, crossing his arms. "I hate you," Skywarp muttered. "C'mon, 'Warp. Let's get this slagging thing moved." Thundercracker motioned to his trine brother, shaking his head. Turning back to the Air Commander, he asked, "One more thing, is there anything else you're up to that's going to come back and bite us in our collective afts?" "I don't know what you're talking about," Starscream replied, hand over his spark. "I'm the picture of innocence." "Great," Skywarp growled. "We're dead."

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