Object show oneshots

11. Graffuana - Shoot your shot

THESE BOYS GIVE ME LIFE
The organisers say that they're not allowed to make any ships canon but I think that Graffiti and Guarana are great together and so do most people who work on the show

8/10, but just for the headcanons, seeing as there's only a few episodes of OSO currently out

"Hey Guarana, wanna team up again this challenge?"
It was a familiar call now. Guarana grinned inside his husk as he turned around, spraying and rattling sounds greeting him, seeing his best friend Graffiti mould himself into the words "best bros...?"
"Alright, buddy. You know I could never say no to your shapeshifting."
Stretching out like a lump of dough to twang back into his natural shape, Graffiti punched the air in triumph.
"Hell yeah! We're gonna fuck shit up together!"
Guarana reached out to slap Graffiti's palm in his as if they were beginning a friendly arm wrestle, closing and hardening his shell to hide his fond blush. He'd always been just as glad of his husk as he had been his friendship with Graffiti: he could easily conceal emotions inside. Whereas on the outside he was bold and red, painted in strong primary colours, on the inside he was... well, to put it best, a soft fruit. He didn't let his mildly fragile masculinity in the way of showing Graffiti affection though, despite how he felt his fingers twitch in anxious excitement when he wrapped an arm around the yellow splodge. Watching the crayons leap up out of their rectangular home, the remaining contestants waited patiently for instructions on the next challenge. Crayon Box cleared her throat as Blue and Red began grappling with each other, whilst Green and Yellow rummaged back inside their host. A set of rainbow slingshots clattered out in great armfuls.
"Today's challenge is a pretty simple game of skittles. You're grouped in pairs to strike and shatter bottles placed on each team's podium: last 4 pairs to knock their skittles down are up for elimination. Now come take a cool slingshot and some missiles!"
All the objects surged forwards eagerly, almost trampling over each other to get to the colourful weapons. Holly was eagerly shouting something along the lines of gay rights as she brandished her sling, Phonograph following her at a steady jog to their bottles. But Graffiti was holding back, seemingly pensive as he watched everybody else grab the equipment. Each crayon was busy doodling balls and rocks in the air to load and fire, falling into a steady rainbow heap on the ground.
"Why aren't we going up?" asked Guarana, trying to surge forwards, but was stopped by Graffiti's arm.
"Just wait. Trust me, I wanna rush up there too, but if I can just shift a little bit..."
"Wow, it's not like you to strategize like this."
Graffiti's cheeks turned orange where crimson layered onto sulphur. The spray can sound hissed again, acidic yellow twisting around bumblebee black to form liquid strands that wove and played around each other, creating thick ropes.
"Are you... becoming the slingshot?"
"You fucking know it baby!"
"That's fucking insane- baby???"
Graffiti charged forwards as the others had done, his new body flapping in the wind as he grabbed an entire pile of the waxy stones.
"Y-YES! NO! I NEVER CALLED YOU THAT!"
"OK DUDE."
Guarana couldn't hold back the grin from reaching his eyes, as he followed his best friend at a more leisurely pace, taking up a single red ball and a shot as he passed the pile. Weighed the possibilities up in his hands.

Only a few pairs remained now. Chaotically, Graffiti still fired his missiles with very little aim, as Guarana stood beside him frowning. There were only four safe spots left, enough for two pairs, and most of the other contestants had attempted to knock over most of their pins, but he and Graffiti? One. One measly skittle, that lay shattered and useless below the stump.
"Now it's just down to Corny and Black Square, Diamond and Extension Cord, Coaster and Coin, Roulette Wheel and Penny, Graffiti and Guarana, and Vape and Server. You lot had better hurry!" Crayon Box encouraged, a slight edge of impatience in her voice as she lent up against the corner of the elimination building, Red perched frowning inside her, arms dangling from over the cardboard flap. Green and Blue were busy scribbling more waxy balls into the air, as Yellow resharpened his point some way off.
"Graffiti, you've lost all your strategy, you're just shooting without direction now."
Graffiti loaded a few yellow and red balls into his shifted self, pulling back and releasing both in a wild barrage that spun far off course, barrelling into the team next to them's final bottle, blowing it to smithereens.
"And Black Square and Corny both live to compete another day! Only one more pair can survive." Crayon Box announced in minor excitement, looking forwards in interest to see what was going on.
"Graffiti! Come on, man!"
"That was just an unlucky shot! I can do better, I promise, watch me try! I'll knock em all down at once!" Graffiti shouted, slapping his hand on another missile, before Guarana grabbed his wrist in long-suffering fond annoyance.
"Nah. You need to take it SLOW. Volume isn't the question here, it's accuracy. This time I'm gonna have to help you, but to be honest I'm not that good at aiming either. I mean, look how many I've managed to hit."
Squinting in despair at the nine clear bottles sitting mockingly on the podium, Guarana loaded a smooth blue orb into the slingshot shape, pulling back on the elastic and closing one eye. Lining up the top of the ball with the group of skittles, he let it fly, perhaps too early, but the object did manage to wobble the bottles as it glanced off the one on the far right. The pin wobbled, circling in a tottering hula ring around its centre of gravity. It struggled, but unfortunately it did right itself after a few nail-biting seconds.
"I mean... that was shit, but it was better than how you were doing."
Graffiti huffed and rolled his eyes, rubbing his foot into the dirt. He knew Guarana was absolutely correct and precision was what the challenge was all about, but he so desperately wanted to make the most of this challenge and his fun new shift.
Then, if he was eliminated, he wouldn't be able to take part in any more challenges at all.
"Okay, fine. Load me up again."
Guarana darted over to the dwindling supply of balls, grabbing all he could carry and dumping them one at a time into the living slingshot. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Bottles began to drop frequently, tumbling and smashing at the sheer force at which they were hit. Other pairs had two left. A few had one. They still had four.
"Graffiti, you're doing great. Thanks for letting me control you, and for that same reason I'm sorry. I normally like it when you go crazy."
A spot beneath Guarana's palm turned fiery orange with passion, causing him to whip his hand back in confusion.
"Oh, are you alright?"
"Y-yeah. It was just - the wind, it surprised me and I ch-changed colour."
Guarana narrowed his eyes suspiciously, carefully flicking another missile that downed two bottles at once. For a moment, both boys gasped and cheered with celebration at the good shot, forgetting the awkward moment: they relished the anxious looks the other pairs were now giving them as they neared the top. They'd fought their way back. They deserved the safe spots, and it was looking more and more likely that they would now be able to achieve them.
"So, you said you like it when I go crazy?" Graffiti asked tentatively in a small voice that was less rough and gravelly than usual. Guarana shrugged and shook his palm diagonally.
"Well, I like how we contrast. I enjoy your spontaneousness and how it plays against how I act."
He loosened his grip on the rock of wax that he had gripped so tightly once before.
"I feel like I need to lighten up a lot of the time. I just don't wanna spoil you having harmless fun."
"Dude, you're fine. You're fun as fuck to be around, to be honest. Now enough depressing talk, put it in me!"
Guarana made a face of surprise, than laughed out loud and bent over, dropping the ball. Graffiti flushed his entire body orange red, accidentally decaying into his normal form with embarrassment.
"Graffiti, please. At least let me take you on a date first."
"I - uhh, ah - I d-didn't mean to say that!!!"
"It's chill, I know."
Graffiti rattled again, shifting slowly into a noticeably more distorted and less good quality slingshot, and his normal neon yellow hue didn't seem to be returning anytime soon. When Guarana loaded the ball into the sling this time, Graffiti trembled slightly and gave a nervous laugh.
The sphere however crashed directly into the penultimate bottle.
"Mate... there's only one left..."
"You two?"
Graffiti and Guarana shot around in surprise to see Crayon Box standing there, looking mildly pissed off. She had her arms folded and was tapping her sides with her fingers as he rapped her foot on the ground. A gentle frown shrouded her face.
"I've seen how you've been doing this challenge and... well, it isn't exactly correct. The idea was you should use the slingshots I provided, not become the object itself. Guarana, you'll have to take this last shot yourself. Or you're both automatically UFE."
She swept around and marched away, leaving the two confused and distraught. Not be able to use Graffiti's power? That was a blow.
"Did she mean you specifically had to shoot the last one down yourself?"
"I don't know, but I'm not willing to risk finding out the hard way. Hand me the slingshot."
Graffiti reached an arm down to chuck the weapon over to Guarana, who caught it one handed and loaded it up. He pulled it right back to his cheek, squinting at his target, heart pumping within him, senses all at once dulled and accentuated.
"You're waiting a pretty long time to let it go."
Guarana blinked once, forcefully.
"I'd rather get this right than have 3 inaccurate shots in the same time frame."
Graffiti flushed almost red along his cheeks, clearing his throat as he reshifted back into himself.
"Yeah... but sometimes you just gotta shoot your shot, you know? Which is... exactly what I'm gonna do."
Guarana seemed too intent on aligning the bottle exactly with the line of trajectory, so he didn't reply. Graffiti gave a shaky breath in and screwed his eyes shut.
"Guarana... I really like you."
The ball shot out of the sling, far off where it was supposed to go. Flying at high speed across the dome, it struck one of the thick glass panels that made up the structure, shattering straight through it. An alarm wailed loudly, a bell drilling along in a cacophony that caused most of the contestants to drop what they were holding and clap their hands over their ears to shut away the horrible sound. Crayon Box leapt up to her feet, each crayon abandoning their post to run up the main building to disable it. Meanwhile, Graffiti was staring at the friend he had just confessed to, tears streaming down his hopeful face as he awaited the death of the terrible alarm.
When it ceased wailing, the objects all took their hands away from their ears, groaning as they each sat or swayed on their feet in woozy discomfort. Guarana stood up, brushing himself off as he looked at Graffiti in anger.
"Couldn't you have waited to tell me that?"
The paint splatter stuttered out the start of a sentence, faltered, then failed altogether.
"Graffiti, Guarana. You're both up for elimination for breaking the bloody dome." Crayon Box could be heard growling from the rooftops as she struggled down, clutching her eardrums.
"I just wanted to make a pun!"
"I literally couldn't care less. We now have a shattered pane to fix..."
Sighing and wiping the sweat from her forehead, Crayon Box puffed, disappearing from sight. Deflated, Graffiti sank to the floor, staring forth at that one bottle that had escaped them both, mocking them on its pedestal. Guarana lowered himself down and crossed his legs next to him, the shouts and yells of the objects still competing. A bitter, thorny resentment still spiked out from him to reach Graffiti, which cut him deeper and deeper every time he breathed in.
"I'm sorry Guarana. It was the wrong time."
"Yeah. It was."
An awkward silence followed, taped over with pink noise from the surroundings. A small bird lucky enough to be living inside the glassy biome without a predator in sight began to warble its saccharine song into the semisphere, flitting backwards and forwards before registering the crumbling pane and darting outside, blending into the harsh distance. Both of them watched it fade into obscurity. It probably wouldn't live so well outside as inside.
"I needed to tell you though. It would have killed me. Like... that little bird was living really nicely here. Blue puts out seed for the songbirds every morning and evening, so it was well fed. But you saw that it was going crazy without wide blue skies to fly in. Did you see the way it circled? I would rather risk changing the way things are for the worse than live without knowing what would have happened had I tried to."
Guarana still stared outside into the grey clouds that the dome always seemed to filter out into sweet, rose-tinted blue, trying to catch a glimpse of the bird. But it was gone for good, and unless any of the other birds living here were brave enough to swoop out after it, they'd never see it again.
"I think it's time for one of the others to follow it. He's uncertain, but he knows it's the right thing to head out."
Normally his husk would have hidden his blush, but this one was too high to conceal unless he shut the hard shell completely around him. His leaf quivered slightly as he closed around halfway. Graffiti looked over at him, still glowing off-colour.
"Ok, I don't know if you're talking about the birds or not anymore? Has the metaphor ended? Where the fuck is the bird?"
"No, no, I'm not talking about the birds anymore!" Guarana laughed, setting his hand on top of his best friend's and patting it affectionately, eventually stroking it with gentle fingers. Graffiti burned, shifting a bit into red with a shrill rattling fizz.
"M-man, this is gay..."
"That's the point, bean."
"Bean?"
"Oh, is that not a cute nickname? I thought it was ok."
Graffiti shifted into the brightest spectrum of crimson as he giggled, shaking his head.
"Nah, it's great. I - I love it!"
A sudden brash roar of a klaxon nearly deafened both of them anew, as Yellow honked an airhorn from the side of the field.
"And Roulette Wheel and Penny are safe, somehow! Despite not having any arms... anyway! That means Graffiti, Guarana, Coin, Coaster, Diamond, Extension Cord, Vape and Server are all up for elimination."
Getting knocked back into reality almost seemed to be like getting hit by a truck. Guarana grumbled into his shell as he picked himself to his feet, extending his hand to pull Graffiti up to him. The object took his hand, and, as if the spell had reaffixed itself to them both, he didn't let go. The two held each other's hands as they traipsed along after the four co-hosts and their owner, feeling warmer inside with every step. They may have been up for elimination, but they had one thing going for them.
What kind of viewer would vote for either of them after seeing that?

I'm so glad I left the OSO server, it was toxic as heck and I don't wanna be affiliated with it anymore but I'm also glad these boys exist!

I lost about 500-600 words of this and holy fuck was that discouraging, but it's done now, phew