#over 9000 ship

[stormikitty]

DP/DC prompt

Danny's boyfriend finds out Danny can purr and decides Danny is so precious and adorable that he never wants to let go of him. He clearly needs to be cuddled and loved on F o r e v e r. (This is an exaggeration, but I want to see fluff about Danny's boyfriend finding out Danny can purr and deciding it's cuddle time.) Any ship works. My first thought was Chaotic Spirits, and my second thought was Dead Serious. But I'd like to see this with just about any ship.

[woodland-gremlin]

Master Post

I have an account called @gremlin-in-the-woods but it is pretty chaotic. So this is where I only reblog my own stuff to keep better track of my own work.

Art

DC X DP

Miraculous Ladybug

Naruto

Don't worry I didn't get rid of the links! I just condensed everything so it is easier to find.

[cosmicsponge2004]

[galactiquest]

Tenflight, Chapter 18: Photoshoot

Fandom: Persona 5 Pairing: Sojiro x Dynal Other Characters: Futaba Sakura (mentioned) Other Tags: Hooray for an older guy and a younger guy, Have you noticed a pattern in my most liked characters yet, Somewhat-accurate website making, Tiny bit technologically adept Sojiro, But not enough to make a website Word Count: 1453

Summary: Sojiro decides that Café LeBlanc needs a website, to keep it up to par with other establishments that had the same. He invests in the help of a website builder to get the job done.

Read it here on Quotev!

[purple-goo-writes]

Over 9000 ship where Kon has just moved into this new apartment, starting college and for some reason his upstairs neighbor is just so fucking beautiful and hot that he becomes literally the most klutsy person every time he and Danny meet in the stair well.

Tin finds this Hilarious. Kon is suffering.

Tim you don't understand he is just So Pretty and Hot and Taller then me! He is a Twunk!

Tim he picked me up when I tripped and just carried me to my floor bridal style. I was dying, literally dying. I was tempted to leap out the window. Tim Help!

[moonstrider9904]

Hunter is the DadTM Dad. He was born to Dad. He is the best Dad. His Dad energy is over 9000.

Wrecker is the Fun Dad who no one understands how he became a dad in the first place because he's practically still a kid too. The type of dad who uses ice cream withdrawal as punishment but then caves on the condition that the ice cream won't have sprinkles.

Echo is the Mature Dad who's so emotionally intelligent and has been through so much that he's just naturally nurturing, hence why he could even be considered a maternal figure.

Tech is the Academic Dad who believes knowledge is power and strives to give a child the best preparation possible in any aspect (books, knowing how to operate crucial machinery/ships, etc)

Crosshair is the Cool Dad who his kids get their sarcasm from. Believes in do as I say, not as I do. Is much worse than Hunter. Any means are justified so long as it's for the benefit of the Kid, such as intimidating a child trying to extort you for information.

[wonwayne]

whatever you say ☁️ park jongseong

pairing : bf!jay x fem!reader genre : tooth-rotting fluff warnings : none! word count : 0.85k

a/n : i don't really know what this is. but it's cute. (just HAD to write on this thought [creds to @atrirose] because husband material jay !!)

home. nothing felt better than coming back from an achingly long work day to the smell of you. closing the door softly behind him, jay let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. comfort always seemed to creep up on him like this, with subtle reminders in the air that you would always be there for him, ready to—

“help me build the titanic?”

you beamed up at your boyfriend, legs crossed on the living room carpet, encircled by seemingly infinite lego pieces in red, white, yellow, and black.

not quite what jay was expecting to come home to. but he approached your little recreation ground anyway, lunging carefully towards the box packaging. “another 2000+ piece lego set?”

“9000!”

“oh—”

“9090, to be exact.”

jay nodded, kneeling down by the carpet to match your eye level. “... that’s really—”

“wait no, 9092! sorry i keep correcting myself, it’s just that i forgot to add the jack and rose minifigures.” you pointed proudly at the thumb-sized people. “once i’m done with the ship, i’m going to have them at the bow like that iconic scene. and then maybe every few days i’ll move them to the floor and put rose on a little door.” you held lego jack up to your boyfriend’s face. “you look just like him.”

he glanced to the side before mirroring its boxy grin. “do i?” you nodded vigorously. “well that’s very flattering, y/n, but i should say,” and he looked emphatically at the heap of legos strewn between him and you, “you’re making it very hard for me to hug you. any closer, and i’m bound to step on a lego here.”

your expression morphed instantly from disquiet to delight. god, you could never get over how adorable he was when he said the sweetest things in the sternest voice. “i’m sorry!” you burst out, sweeping the pieces to the side and jumping into your boyfriend’s arms. “i’ll be right at the door to hug you next time.”

“thank you, love,” he murmured as he kissed the top of your head, “keep working, i’ll make dinner and help build as soon as i can.”

even more adorable, you thought, for calling your lego-building “work.”

tragically, jay found you breaking your promise just a few evenings following. anticipating your pretty face peeking out of the doorway, he practically raced out of the apartment elevator. but instead of anything to look for, he was met by faint screams and hearty laughs — your laugh among them, and panic consumed him. who would she be laughing with in OUR apartment besides me? why the screams?? what if she’s—

bursting the door open, he was yet again unable to make sense of… you. you, belting taylor swift at the top of your lungs, dappled with rainbow light under the mini disco ball you’d set up in the far corner, mid-cartwheel with a wireless mic in one hand, dangerously close to crashing into both your partners in crime, jake and sunghoon.

they steered clear of you swiftly before freezing at the sight of a narrow-eyed jay.

“uh, y/n,” sunghoon began (poor boy), “i think—”

“—BUT THIS LOVE IS BRAVE AND WIIIIIIIILLLLLDDDDDD,” you persisted, thoroughly unaware of your boyfriend’s presence, and nearly assaulting the sofa as you landed from the cartwheel.

it took you till the end of the song’s bridge to notice your friends’ conspicuous silence. following their uneasy gaze, you saw jay maintaining the hardest poker face you’d ever seen him wear before.

but forget the “oh hi”s, skip the “let me explain”s — you glided over to where jay stood by the entrance and, offering the mic to him, sang quietly: “and i neverrrrrr saw you comiiiiiiiiiiing.” you sounded impossibly good.

“you should’ve,” he said, voice low, and with the hint of a pout, “seen me coming.” at a louder volume, he addressed the boys while his arms wrapped around your waist, “why do i have to come home to these two losers making a mess on a respectable thursday evening?”

jake opened his mouth to protest, but jay’s attention was already back to you. “you invited them?” he asked casually, pulling you closer in.

“i was getting bored without you,” and it was your time to pout, “had to unwind somehow.” you conveniently left out the detail that you had organized the whole “mess” in the house, and that the other two had played absolutely no part.

“with karaoke at the ungodly hour?”

“well, only because you arrived at an ungodly hour.”

he paused for a moment, then conceded, “right. of course, love, i’m sorry.”

you missed jake’s priceless expression as he made eye contact with jay across the room.

“P A R T N E R  P R I V I L E G E,” he mouthed as aggressively as he could.

jay scoffed, and buried his chin deeper into the crook of your neck.

the only privilege, he would tell the boys later, was that of him having you in his life.

[burntheedges]

600 Followers Celebration

Y’all!! This is wild. I realized the other day that I started writing my first fic in my notes app on my phone on 4/11/23. I posted the first chapter of that fic in July last year! I am so grateful for each and every one of you. I get so emotional every time someone reads one of my fics. Thank you for being here and being amazing. And I’m so glad you all like fandom bingo (which is still open)!! 🧡🧡🧡

I wanted to do something fun to celebrate. There are two parts -- vote and ask! I'll tag every post for this celebration with #bte600.

💗 VOTE: vote on the poll under the cut!!  A week or so ago I did an ask game where people sent me made up fic titles and I told you what I would write for them. Well, I got a little carried away and came up with some ideas I'm actually pretty excited about. So now I want you to vote on which one I should actually write next! The poll will be open for a week.

🧡 ASK: Send me any of the emojis below – send me as many as you’d like! But please send one at a time.

❣️shout out Spread the love around and tell me about a fic, author, fan art, or artist on here that you love!

📜fic rec Give me a fandom and a direction and I’ll give you a fic rec. I’ve got more than 9000 bookmarks on ao3 lol bet I can find something! let me know preferences about ships, ratings, content, etc.

(fandoms I’ve read a lot in over the years: all the Pedro boys, Inception (Arthur/Eames), Captive Prince, LOTR/Hobbit, MCU, X-Men, 00Q, Star Trek (various ships), Mass Effect, The Raven Cycle (pynch), Teen Wolf (lol), Stranger Things, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Check Please!, The Witcher, The Sandman, Sherlock, Stargate Atlantis, RWRB, Merlin, ATLA… and more?)

❓question Send me any question, FMK, ask about a headcanon, ask about one of my fics, how I write, ask for commentary on a scene or line, whatever you’d like – I’ll answer it!

Remember, 💗 vote on the poll under the cut!! 

Let's vote! Which one of these ideas should I work on next? (see more about each at the link) I had to cut one so I cut one of the Frankie ones that was very similar to something I just wrote.

🧡🧡🧡 thanks for being here!

tagging some mutuals for funzies:

@katareyoudrilling @beardedjoel @maggiemayhemnj @goodwithcheese @djarins-cyare

@jupiter-soups @undercoverpena @tightjeansjavi @morallyinept @trulybetty

@gasolinerainbowpuddles @huffle-punk @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @jay-zzle @sheepdogchick3

@joelsgreys @davnittbraes @ghotifishreads @iknowisoundcrazy @jobean12-blog

@punkette1026 @macfrog @skittlesfics @morning-star-joy @futuraa-free

@sempersirens @theywhowriteandknowthings @pr0ximamidnight @janaispunk @toxicanonymity

@chronically-ghosted @beefrobeefcal @ladamedusoif @ilovepedro @javierpena-inatacvest

@kiwisbell @iamasaddie @mrsmando @corazondebeskar @minimeiser

@mermaidgirl30 @kedsandtubesocks @covetyou @nedgooel @wildemaven

@secretelephanttattoo @theclairvoyage @sawymredfox @julesonrecord

...

[eldritch-spouse]

Smash or pass Auto from WALL-E

If anyone could figure out a way to do it Pinnie, it’d be you

[A disembodied AI is no obstacle to pure depravity.]

Auto is based off HAL 9000, isn't he? Like a "man in uniform" version of HAL. And much like some theories on HAL, you can't really call him a "villain", when he's merely following human-generated directives that were badly constructed.

But of course, there's room to argue that Auto has had to make autonomous choices based on his own contradicting code, such so that he decides not letting humans back on Earth no matter what is more optimal. And if he's able to make that choice, he's able to deem you as his favorite passenger, his favorite out of all, benefitting you in unlikely ways just to keep you all that closer, all that more dependant on him (quite the feat, considering the level of brain-dead most humans are in that movie).

Sex wouldn't be different, would it? Disembodied? No problem, here's a variety of toys he can take control of whenever after he "gently convinces you" (see: threatens) to use them in front of his main optic. Cue the excuses and manipulating drivel about purely acting for your well-being and the satisfaction of urges that shouldn't be his business to begin with.

At the same time that he might want to build himself a form that's attractive to you, he may not have that privilege yet. Part of me likes to think that, given his design, a mobile unit of Auto would look vaguely like an E.M.M.I from Metroid Dread.

And if you have no means of escape before he activates that form, then it's truly over once he's physically prowling about the ship. And frankly, Auto's probably been waiting to experience all sorts of things with this new form, perhaps even real pleasure, with you. The incentive to catch and cage you is now twofold.

So yeah, smash.

[mid-nighttiger]

since i was looking at codywan ao3 stats over the years, i thought it'd be interesting to compare with the three other biggest pt-era ships. at the time of posting (2023/08/01), the largest pt-era ship on ao3 is anakin/padme, followed by anakin/obi-wan, then cody/obi-wan, then obi-wan/qui-gon

[Image ID: Graph of total works on AO3 by ship. Quiobi is shown as a blue line, Obikin as red, Anidala as yellow, and Codywan as green. The horizontal axis shows the years from 1997 to 2023, and the vertical axis shows the number of total works from 0 to 9000. /End ID]

quiobi starts increasing moderately but steadily from 1999 to about 4000 works in 2023. there are under 100 anidala and obikin works dated 1999-2009, then both ships start to increase slowly, then faster from 2015-2019, and even faster from 2019-2023 (anidala faster than obikin). anidala overtakes quiobi at about 2500 works in 2019 to reach nearly 9000 in 2023. obikin overtakes quiobi at about 2750 works in 2020 to reach about 8000 in 2023. there are no codywan works until 2009, then it increases slowly from 2015-2019 and grows rapidly from 2019-2023. codywan overtakes quiobi at 3500 works in 2022 to hit nearly 6000 works in 2023

[Image ID: Graph of works posted per year by ship. Quiobi is shown as a blue line, Obikin as red, Anidala as yellow, and Codywan as green. The horizontal axis shows the years from 1997 to 2023, and the vertical axis shows the number of works posted from 0 to 2500. /End ID]

these two graphs confirm my feeling based on my experiences* in sw fandom that quiobi is an old, steadily growing ship. the phantom menace in 1999 sparked the ship, and there has been a moderate but steady 50-100 works per year since then til 2014, when it starts to grow. after 2016 and 2020, there are some moderate step-ups in the number of works posted per year (200-300 and 300-500, respectively), but not the huge spikes of the other ships

anidala and obikin share pretty similar growth patterns, with the number of works per year being pretty low until 2016, when it jumps to 500-600 (overtaking the number of quiobi works posted per year), then jumps again in 2020 to over 1000 and has been growing ever since. i already discussed codywan in my previous post, but in brief, there is a low growth from 2015-2019 of about 100 works per year, before it spikes in 2020 and catches up with the number of anidala and obikin works posted yearly

*when i got into star wars fandom, quiobi was the pt-era largest ship. i never felt that it was losing popularity, just that other ships were growing faster

[Image ID: Graph of year over year growth by ship. Quiobi is shown as a blue line, Obikin as red, Anidala as yellow, and Codywan as green. The horizontal axis shows the years from 2000 to 2023, and the vertical axis shows the percent growth from -100 to 1100. /End ID]

what's interesting here that all of the ships had spike in growth in 2016, most likely from the force awakens being released in december 2015 and sparking new interest in star wars, and 2020, possibly from folks quarantining at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic and spending more time writing. season 7 of the clone wars being released in 2020 could have also been a factor. it would be interesting to see if other fandoms also had a spike in new works in 2020. anidala had a spike in 2005, when revenge of the sith was released. there are no obikin works dated 2004 on ao3, which is why there is a gap in the graph from 2004-2006 (percents don't play nicely with zeroes). not shown on this graph is the jump from 1 quiobi work dated 1998 to 104 works dated 1999, because that is a 10,000% increase that completely destroys the vertical range

notes:

largest ships were determined from the relationship tags in the "Star Wars - All Media Types" tag on ao3

works from each ship tag on ao3 were filtered by date. no other filters were used. some works may have been tagged with multiple ships (e.g., codywan and anidala) and/or with a 3-way ship (e.g., obianidala)

each year shows the number of works at the end of that year (i.e., 2022/12/31, 2021/12/31, etc)

data for works posted by year and for % growth for 2023 was extrapolated from the number of fics posted in 2023 so far. at the time of making these graphs (2023/08/01), there have been 191 quiobi, 1391 obikin, 2205 anidala, and 1179 codywan works posted in 2023

technically, the graphs show the number of works updated, not posted, as i could not find any option to filter works on ao3 by date posted

since quiobi, obikin, and anidala are all significantly older than ao3 itself, these graphs are of limited scope pre-2009. pre-2009 data is affected by which works were imported from older archives and/or backdated by their creators moving to ao3

deleted works were not accounted for

[wishitweresummer]

Now What Do We Use (Dream x GeorgeNotFound x Sapnap)

Word count: 4819

((This is from my series Glass House!! Next part is Now Let Me Explain.))

Warning: Restraints and intense tickles! Safeword use. Feet tickling. Tickle tools.

Dream cursed under his breath. He had snooped again. It was an accident like last time, but he still felt a little bad. He stared at the tab he had just clicked out of and analyzed the scenario he was in.

What were the chances George had left this open on his computer specifically for him to find? Pretty high, he decided. He clicked back onto the tab and scanned the contents, forgetting entirely what he had even needed the other boy’s computer for.

It was George’s Amazon wishlist. Dream’s eyes scanned the items. They were…a strange mix of items. At first glance he had assumed a few of them were things George would want to be tickled with, but he huffed in amusement when he realized it was every single thing.

With a few clicks, he shared the wishlist to his own account. He headed back to his own room and sent a quick text to summon Sapnap.

On his own phone, he pulled up the wishlist and moved the entire thing into his shopping cart. He whistled at the total.

“Bougie bitch…”, he whispered.

Amazon Cart 6 Items

Subtotal: $750.01

Sun&Lion V2 Deep Tissue Massage Gun

Natural Eagle Feathers 10-16 inch Turkey Pheasant

PHILIPS Sonicare DiamondClean 9000 Connected Rechargeable Electric Power Toothbrush 2-Pack, Black + White - Bluetooth

Glamzy Baby Massage Oil 100mL with Almond Oil, Aloe Vera, Calendula Oil, and Macadamia

WYNDEL Comb Silicone Hairbrush Shampoo Brush Scalp Massage

RHOS Paddle Hairbrush

“What’s up?”, Sapnap asked from the doorway. Dream grinned and waved him over, tossing him his phone when he got close.

“Gogy let me use his computer but accidentally left open a tab with his Amazon wishlist on it.”, he used air quotes for ‘accidentally’ to make Sapnap grin as he joined him on the bed.

“He’s rich, he can just buy th-whoa! This is almost a thousand dollars with shipping Dream!”, Sapnap laughed and leaned against him as he scrolled through the cart. “Baby oil?”.

“Pretty sure it makes you more ticklish.”.

“What about the hairbrush?”.

“I think for his feet.”, Dream said as he made a scrubbing motion. “Same as the scalp massager thing.”. Sapnap cringed with his entire body at the thought.

“Holy shit.”, he muttered. The idea of either tools being pressed to his own sensitive soles made him shake his head. “George is crazy.”. Dream laughed and nudged him.

“Imagine how he would react if we did it to him.”.

“He’d be so loud.”, Sapnap grinned. “Buy it.”.

“Huh? We can split it.”.

“Buy. It.”, Sapnap shoved him.

“Fine fine.”.

~•~

Two day delivery.

In the meantime, Dream and Sapnap brushed up on their knowledge for a few of the tools they were confused about. Where exactly to put the baby oil. Places they could use the scalp massager. Where the vibrating toothbrushes would work best.

After a loose strategy meeting on a lazy afternoon, they ambushed George.

“What are you doing?!”, he yelled as he fought against the two of them. As always, his strength was nothing compared to them. He shrieked in fear as one of his wrists was captured in a cuff and attached to the top corner of his bed. Instantly, he broke into giggles. “No no please no!”, he begged.

Of course, it fell on deaf ears. In no time, the boy was writhing helplessly in his restraints. In a t-shirt and shorts, but feeling naked. He scrunched his, newly freed, toes in the open air.

“Hush now. We gotcha.”, Sapnap said. George was wracked with nervous giggling as Dream left the room.

“Is it just us?”, he asked in a delirious haze.

“No, idiot. He’s getting your gifts.”.

“Gifts?”.

Dream came back with a big Amazon box. George’s giggles faded away into silence.

“Does that look mean you know what’s in here?”.

“No way.”, he whispered. His cheeks flamed and he squirmed helplessly in their gazes.

“Oh yes, Georgie. We found your Amazon wishlist.”. George was stunned into silence.

~•~

Dream waved the massage gun in the air. George shuddered in his restraints. He had never actually felt the tickle of a massage gun before, but it looked brutal in the videos he saw online.

“Alright so…I think it will work here.”, Dream said as he grabbed George’s knee and pressed the head of the gun into the sensitive muscle of his inner thigh. The boy whimpered. Dream grinned and switched it on.

George’s vision nearly blacked as every nerve in his leg was lit up with an intense pulse of ticklish electricity. The spot the head was pressed into pulsed quickly and his entire leg shook with the force. A stunted yelp slipped from his lips, but his lungs weren’t able to keep up with the force of laughter trying to break out. Nothing had ever tickled this badly. He convulsed silently, completely mindless to the feeling. And then…it stopped.

“Oh, it died?”, Dream asked as he pulled back the gun. George burst into hysterical cackles, the feeling in his leg still making him buzz. Sapnap chuckled and creeped closer to the head of the bed.

“No no!! No way! Fuck! You can’t do that again!! No! That was crazy!! Oh god! Guys, seriously!!”, he blubbered through his laughter. There was no fucking way he would survive that evil thing touching him again.

“Huh? No way! George, this thing was so expensive and you wanted it!”. The boy squeaked in embarrassment, unable to calm down at all.

“Return it!!”. The two laughed at the dramatics. George dropped his head back against the pillow and let the dizzy giggles bubble out of him. Dream plugged the massage gun into the wall and left it charging on the bedside table.

“We’ll have to come back to that later.”. George whined through his giggles.

“Please, I really can’t handle that. You have to listen to me.”, he had a cute little tinge of delirium to his voice.

Sapnap leaned over the side of the bed and popped back up with two long feathers.

“Should we start out soft then?”.

~•~

Soft might have sounded nice, but George truly thought he was going to die. With one delicate feather being flossed through his toes and the other teasing under his shirt sleeve into his armpit, he was shaking with desperate laughter. His nerves sparked under the teasing touch and he squirmed as wildly as he could. It was no use.

“Please please oh god please!”, he babbled through his laughter.

“But Georgie, it’s so soft!”.

He squealed loudly as Sapnap teased it against his ear, flushing in embarrassment at his own reaction.

“Oh, that’s right!! Your ears!!”. Sapnap put his palm on George’s forehead and pressed his head back into the pillow. “Here we go!”. George let out a wail of anguish, then collapsed into high pitched laughter. Dream grinned as he came to a stop and started crawling up George’s body to get a better look.

“Please!!”, he cried. He was shaking at the gentle torture.

“So cute…”, Dream coo’ed. The feather traced around and around the inside of his red ear. He bucked and squeaked, burning with humiliation.

“Fuck you!!”. He tried to shake his head, but it was impossible with Sapnap’s stupid hand clapped over his forehead.

“Oh, Georgie…”, Dream tsked and teased his own feather along the creases of the squirmy boy's neck. He squealed loudly, making the other two giggle. “Wow, your fancy expensive feathers were worth it huh?”.

“Shut…up!!”, he managed through his bubbly laughter.

George’s forehead was released and he jerked his head up, then dropped it back to the pillow with delirious giggles, rubbing his ear against it. The feather was waved teasingly in the air over his clothed chest and tummy before Dream tugged up his shirt to reveal it. He whimpered.

Normally, he was tortured with a rough touch. Mean squeezes and grabs to make him scream. The idea of a feather against his skin had never really scared him, but was interesting enough for him to look at online. He’d never bought it though. He figured it wouldn’t actually do much.

Now…well what the fuck was he thinking? Since the moment one of those dumb feathers traced his skin he hadn’t stopped jumping or shaking for one second. It was a sharp feeling. His sensitive nerves prickled underneath it and he could feel his senses heightening in defense. Not only could he not handle this, but he knew it would make the rest of his night worse.

He squealed when the tip of the feather teased into his bellybutton. He jerked his hips to the side roughly, but a large hand grabbed hold and pressed him to the bed. When he wasn’t able to squirm away from the feeling and it persisted, he threw his head back and burst into squeaky laughter.

“The feathers make him like…a squeaky toy.”, Sapnap noted amusedly. He cried out at the tease, making them both laugh.

“Please!”, he whined out the plea. Sapnap’s feather joined Dream in clumsily trying to shove into his bellybutton and his entire body jolted as he giggled hysterically. The noise was light and frantic.

“I thought soft tickling didn’t work that well on you?”, Sapnap asked. George was gasping through his giggles and shaking his head. “He’s so cute like this.”.

They trailed the feathers all over his body. When teased behind his knees, he squealed every single time. Dream and Sapnap giggled as they took turns poking the feathers under his knees and making him make funny noises.

~•~

“C’mon Georgie let us in!”, Dream giggled as he fought with the wiggling toes.

“Please! Please!”, he cried out frantically as he jerked his feet around and scrunched his toes in defense. Were they trying to kill him?

Suddenly at the same time, Dream and Sapnap both got their vibrating toothbrushes in between the last two toes on both of George’s feet. The sounds he made were incredible. They dropped their jaws in awe as they watched George convulse on the bed. The laughter pouring out of him was unlike anything they had heard before. It was shamelessly loud and desperate.

The vibrating sensation was unfamiliar and startling. No amount of squirming could free him and he felt himself lose his mind to the feeling. The toothbrushes were decidedly evil. They both prodded around curiously between his quivering toes and he screamed in ticklish agony.

“Whoa!”, Sapnap laughed. George thrashed in his restraints and fell into uncontrollable laughter. His body and mind screamed for him to beg for mercy, to beg for them to go one at a time, to beg for them to stop. But, he didn’t.

“Fuck!”, he squeaked out. His face was a pretty shade of crimson.

“These work pretty well, Georgie.”, Dream said with a grin. He quickly touched the head of the vibrating brush to each of George’s toe pads and he let out a stream of high pitched cries and squeaks.

Sapnap turned and started climbing up the bed, waving the still-vibrating toothbrush at George.

“Nonono!!!”.

“Oh, yes.”, he smirked. The vibrating head touched inside George’s little bellybutton and he screeched. “Ooh!!”.

“Get out!!!”, he yelled, then burst into hysterical giggling. Dream peeked around Sapnap’s shoulder.

“Oh he sounds so cute when you do that.”. George squealed and bucked, but Sapnap was relentless in twisting the head around slowly to find the best reactions. He threw his head back into the pillow and bubbly laughter poured out. “He sounds happy!”, Dream exclaimed.

“Well, he is. He’s getting his tickles!”, Sapnap smirked back at Dream while he twisted the head of the toothbrush just right to make George squeal again.

“Shut up!!”, George shrieked, horrified at the words. A panicked burst of squeaky giggles escaped him as he jerked back and forth. “Sapnap!!”.

Dream laughed and leaned around Sapnap, trailing the vibrating head of his own toothbrush up George’s ticklish side. He squealed helplessly. He teased it closer and closer to his armpit and the boy screamed in terror.

“I hate you guys!!”.

“Oh, well that was rude.”, Dream scoffed and dove his toothbrush right into his armpit. Sapnap followed quickly. They both laughed at George’s violent reaction. Silent screams wracked his chest as he bucked and convulsed helplessly. He finally caught a little bit of air and wailed with laughter. It was frantic and beautiful. “Cute…”, Dream murmured.

The two made sure to thoroughly treat every inch of George’s ticklish armpits to the little vibrating heads of their toothbrushes before moving on. The tickles were so intense and focused, it made it hard for George to catch any air to laugh or beg. Mercilessly, they smiled on as he gasped and choked and cried.

Luckily, they knew this was what he truly wanted. As crazy as that might seem to them sometimes.

Eventually, they flicked off the toothbrushes and allowed him a break. George’s body went limp against the bed and flustered giggles broke free. Dream shushed him gently and pet his damp hair. Sapnap almost started to help get rid of the ghost tickles, but thought better of it. He poked the tip of George’s red nose.

“The ghosts are tickle tickle tickling you, huh?”, he teased. George nodded through his delirious giggling. The words were feathery and lined with sugar, sparking excitement across his nerves. Against his will, he squirmed at nothing. Sapnap coo’ed, making everything worse.

“Silly…”, George mumbled between giggles, barely thinking. Dream and Sapnap laughed.

It was so freeing to be known like this. George relaxed into the fluffy feelings and let his bubbly giggles take over. Here, he could be light and dumb and young. Dream wiped his tears away and he closed his eyes, humming. The cold thumbs against his burning hot cheeks felt refreshing.

“Sweet boy.You are silly.”, Dream grinned. George nuzzled up into the hand. Sapnap and Dream looked at each other in surprise. Soft little giggles were sneaking out from between his lips. Sapnap whined.

“He’s being so cute.”, he murmured.

Suddenly, he grabbed hold of both of George’s sides to make him squeal loudly.

“Stop being so cute.”.

“Sap!!!”, he cried and burst into crazed laughter. “No!! Please!!”. Dream laughed and poked into his ribs, making him shriek. “Dream!!”.

“We won’t stop unless you stop being cute!!”. George threw his head back into the pillow and cackled loudly.

Sapnap held up the electric toothbrush and turned it back on, making George scream in terror. They both laughed.

~•~

“Alright, what’s next?”, Dream asked as he got off the bed and stretched. Sapnap dug through the box. They both ignored George’s breathless giggles and whimpers.

“Hairbrush and this super fancy baby oil.”, Sapnap said as he held up the items. George whined loudly. “Oh, you excited?”.

“Shut up.”, George said quietly. He scrunched his toes at the sight of the hairbrush being inspected by Sapnap. He had only ever felt a hairbrush against his foot once before and he had nearly hurt both himself and Dream at how hard he thrashed and screamed. He snuck a look over to the boy in question and then closed his eyes and shoved his face into the pillow at the shit-eating grin he was met with.

“Oh Georgie.”, he coo’ed. “George loves the hairbrush! Wow…we’ve never tried it with the oil though have we? Huh, Georgie? You must be so excited!”.

“Dream, shut up.”, he gritted out, horribly flustered. Dream peeked back and laughed at the nervous toes.

“Stretching out your piggies in preparation?”, Dream asked. George squawked at the words. He laughed and ruffled his hair. George was giggling frantically, unable to calm down. His sweaty hair stuck up everywhere from the ruffling and he tried to squirm away, but failed.

“There’s only one.”, Sapnap added.

“He can only handle one. You use it and I’m going to sit on him so he doesn’t squirm too much and hurt himself.”, Dream said as he climbed back onto the bed and straddled George’s waist facing his legs. George whimpered, giggles finally calming down as the sudden reality of his situation set in. He wiggled his body a little in protest and earned a quick squeeze to his thigh.

“Dream!”, he screeched. His butterflies were never going to go away at this point. “Fuck, I can’t do this.”, he cried desperately.

“Sure you can!”.

“No, it’s going to be too bad!!”, he whined and flopped his head back into the pillow a few times.

Dream and Sapnap froze and stared at each other, waiting for a safeword drop. One of George’s feet was shaking with nervous energy and Sapnap grabbed it to stop it. A flurry of excited squeaky giggles flew from George’s mouth and they both grinned.

“These little feet are already so ticklish! What’s gonna happen when I put the baby oil on George? Huh?”.

“Don’t!!”, he cried. No safeword, though.

“Let’s see what happens without it first.”.

“No! Get away!!”, he screamed. Still, no safeword. Dream and Sapnap nodded at each other; he was fine.

Despite his threat, Sapnap grabbed the baby oil and clicked it open. George yelped at the sound.

“No no no please!!! C’mon!!”. Sapnap coated his hands and started gently massaging the oil into his left foot. Instantly, George burst into frantic giggles.

“Get between his toes too.”, Dream added helpfully. George squealed as Sapnap listened.

“Alright Georgie, are you ready?”.

“No!! Oh fuck oh fuck!!!”, George thrashed as much as he could, but Dream’s weight was on his hips. “Please I can’t take it!!! Sapnap please!!!”, he begged. There was a real edge of panic to his voice. “Don’t do it!!! I’m begging you!!!”.

If anyone else was tickling him, George probably wouldn’t let himself get into that level of franticness knowing it would scare most people into stopping. His two best friends knew better.

Sapnap giggled as he grabbed a hold of the foot and scrubbed the hairbrush against the slippery sole. George screwed his eyes shut and screamed bloody murder. The ticklish feeling was intense and unstoppable. It shot up through his leg and threw his entire body into a squirming panic. Every nerve in his system spiked at the feeling. Before he could suck in a breath to laugh, his lungs were pushing out another scream. It was a desperate and helpless noise. The ticklish feeling was overwhelming. Fresh tears streaked down his hot cheeks as he shook his head uselessly. His lungs burned a little with the force of his screaming and he felt dizzy at the lack of air. Just as he thought he was going to die, Sapnap stopped. George sucked in a large breath of air and exploded with laughter. Dream smirked back at him.

“Wow! That worked really well! Georgie, are you okay?”, Sapnap laughed as he stood up to see George’s face. It was impossibly red and covered in tears. He could only shake his head ‘no’ as his laughter faded into delirious giggling. In Sapnap’s hand, the foot was still twitching from the aftershocks. He teased the brush across the toes and grinned as George let out a choked shriek. “So ticklish!”.

Dream grinned and tilted his head in the direction of George’s right foot. As soon as Sapnap grabbed it George was thrown into a giggly panic again.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!!!”, he cried through his giggles. He squirmed as much as he could, but it was barely any. Sapnap had left the cap on the baby oil open so George had no warning before it was suddenly being massaged into his sensitive foot and the surprise made him yelp. Dream and Sapnap laughed.

“You have to be the most dramatic person on this planet!”, Dream said, amusedly.

“Do you wanna try this?!”, George asked, voice pitching strangely as he spoke through his giggling.

“No fucking way.”, Dream shook his head quickly. He looked over and laughed when he noticed Sapnap subconsciously responding with a head shaken ‘no’ as well. This would be way too intense for either of them. Maybe if he was prepared and ready, and definitely not restrained, he would give it a try. But, right now after the display George had just put on? No shot. He’s pretty certain it would kill him. He could almost feel the prickly tingles of ghost tickles along his soles just thinking about it.

George’s piercing scream broke him out of his thoughts. Sapnap scrubbed at the captured foot and grinned as the boy seemingly lost his mind.

This was something George was getting to experience more and more as Dream and Sapnap learned to put their mercy to the side for him. His brain switched off and he gave into his instincts, just screaming and crying. The ticklish feeling was maddening. The sensations were quick and startling, shooting through his body and making him squirm like a live wire. His foot flexed and twitched and trembled as Sapnap held it in place for his torment. He was helpless to it, to them. Just…tickles. It tickled. It tickled horribly.

A tortured scream tore through his body, sounding desperate enough to make Sapnap stop. It was unexpected, making him cry out with a shrill pathetic noise.

“Are you okay?”, Dream was asking somewhere above him. George opened his eyes and blinked away the tears. The room was bright. The question was confusing for some reason. He was still gasping for air and not sure how to respond. Yes? No? He was being tickled. “George?”, Dream tried again. Giggles spilled from his lips and he squirmed under the attention, confused and dizzy.

“It tickles.”, he squeaked out. Maybe that would be good enough? Dream smiled.

“Oh does it?”, he teased. The grip on his foot tightened and he was suddenly thrown back into his wild screaming as Sapnap touched that hairbrush back to his sensitive sole. Sapnap wasn’t going easy, really abusing his weakness. George gulped down air in an attempt to laugh, but the tickling was too intense. Screams tore from his throat before he could stop them and he was helpless to the feeling. His leg twitched violently, but was held in place by a large hand.

Together, they safely took him apart. George was allowed to thrash and scream to his heart's content without a thought.

Eventually, the feeling disappeared and George fell limp. Weak giggles broke through, but George couldn’t squirm at the ghost tickles anymore.

“So…what’s this?”, Sapnap’s voice asked from somewhere. A bunch of dull points pressed into his ticklish and over-sensitive sole and he squealed.

“What is that!!”, he yelled in panic. Both boys were laughing.

“It’s some kind of scalp massager for like, shampoo. But George wanted to be tickled with it.”, Dream explained.

Oh, they weren’t even going to let him recover.

George burst into laughter as Sapnap curiously pressed the massager all over his foot and toes. The sensation wasn’t as intense as the hairbrush, but it was driving him crazy.

“Fuck!”.

“It works pretty well!”. George shook his head through his laughter.

“That feels crazy!!”, he yelled.

“Look, Dream because they are a little pointy I have to be careful, but his ticklish little foot is totally freaking out!”.

“Shut up!!!”, George cried. Sapnap teased the shampoo massager across all of his toes, making him squeal.

“Be nice, Georgie.”, Dream warned and squeezed both of his thighs a few times to make him scream.

“Please!! Dream, fuck!”.

His thighs trembled in fear of another attack. Dream dusted his fingertips against them teasingly to make him jump. Sapnap paused his movements, watching curiously.

“I won’t get them too bad. Not before the massage gun.”, he purred. George shivered at the memory and glanced over where the device was charging. He whimpered.

Without warning, Sapnap teased the shampoo massager back down George’s sole and he squealed loudly.

“I wanna try!”, Dream said as he hopped up and moved to the bottom of the bed near Sapnap.

“No…”, George whined. Sapnap passed him the massager and he gently pressed it into George’s other sole. The boy giggled hysterically and squirmed. “No!”. Dream laughed and teased it along the wiggly toes.

“We gotta oil up these little piggies more often, huh?”. George threw his head back and cackled, affected by the words. “Oh, he’s such a goner.”.

“Get away!”, he cried through his laughter.

Dream and Sapnap passed the massager back and forth, tickling the bottom of George’s oily feet. When one didn’t have the massager, they would play with his toes or skitter their nails into the soles. Without a way to get used to the feeling, George just lost his mind again to the tickles. His laughter was bubbly and helpless. When he could, he would beg;

“Please!”, he tried. “Guys! No more!”, didn’t help either. “Why?!”, he cried. “Fuck!”, it was too much. He tried everything.

Everything besides what would actually stop them, of course.

~•~

“It’s time for the finale!!!”, Dream exclaimed as he unplugged the massage gun and gestured to it. George shook his head weakly.

“You can’t.”, he insisted.

“George, people use those all the time to massage themselves after working out!”, Sapnap said.

“Give it to one of them then!”, he shot back quickly, making them both laugh.

“You’re such an idiot.”, Dream said fondly and grabbed George’s knee. “Alright Sapnap, where do I press it in?”.

They both ignored George’s frantic squirming and begs for mercy as Sapnap scrolled through directions on his phone.

“Okay, try the muscle above his knee and kind of inner thigh.”.

“Got it!”, Dream said. He turned it on and George yelped in fear.

“Don’t do this to me!!!”, he cried.

As soon as the head of the gun touched his thigh again, he was thrashing against the bed with a silent scream. The pulse of ticklish vibrations went through his entire body and shook him to the core. Dream worked it down to find the most sensitive area and one spot tore a piercing scream from George.

“I’m such a good masseuse.”, Dream muttered amusedly, moving around the gun. A sharp laugh pierced the air as George found his breath. It was quick and loud, almost scaring the two. Mostly, he was just thrashing in silence as the overwhelming tickles took him over. Every laugh that fought its way out was strained and desperate.

He lifted up the gun and watched him carefully. Silently, Dream and Sapnap watched George shake with breathy giggles.

“I hate you guys…”, he managed out. The two grinned at each other; he was fine.

“Okay, anywhere else?”.

“Yeah, try higher up on the inside.”.

George couldn’t find it in himself to fight it, he just let himself scream and fall back into desperate silent thrashing as the vibrating head of the gun shook every nerve in his body. It was so intense in the one spot, it felt like he was being tickled from the inside out. His vision blacked so he squeezed his eyes shut, mind swimming in colors. Sharp cackles escaped him over and over again between his silent screams. This might be the worst tickling he’s ever felt.

~•~

If you asked, George would have no idea how long the two tickle monsters tormented his ticklish thighs with that massage gun. They tickled him out. Definitely.

His outbursts of crazed laughter were more and more spread out until he was just convulsing and gasping.

“Skeppy!”, he squeaked out, finally. And it came to a stop.

George went completely limp against the bed. His legs were still shaking from the vibrations, but he just let it happen. He kept his eyes closed and just let Dream and Sapnap take over for him. He relaxed and caught his breath while they un-cuffed him, put him under the covers, and snuggled up on either side of him.

“Wow Georgie, you really held out.”, Dream said softly. He finally let out a tired little giggle and turned his face into Sapnap’s shoulder in embarrassment. The two laughed at him.

“That was torture…”, he murmured quietly into Sapnap’s shoulder. He tried hiding his grin into the younger’s shoulder since he didn’t have the energy to fight it off.

‘He’s smiling.’, Sapnap mouthed to Dream. They both beamed.

Their adorable best friend. So sweet to trust them with this. Tickled to the brink of death, yet still cuddling with them and giddy. George snaked his hand back and grabbed Dream’s shirt, tugging him closer as he laid his head on Sapnap’s chest. He burned with embarrassment, but just nuzzled in and let himself relax. Dream wrapped around him and soon, he was pressed like he wanted to be between his best friends. The ones who knew him more than anybody. Here, he was home.

Together, they drifted off. Warm and happy. George, still buzzing from the events of the night.

[astroboots]

Personal Belongings

Summary: How Santiago lost his mother's necklace and Frankie ends up saving his life, aka the moment Santiago falls in love with Frankie.

Content: heavy angst content (Vegeta voice: it's over 9000!!!), blood, gore, violence, guns and injuries it's like a Tarantino movie in here.

Wordcount: 2,700

Homesick Masterlist | Homecoming Universe | Astroboot’s Masterlist

One of the first things they did to Santiago when he arrived at the military camp was to take away all his personal belongings.

The rule is: no jewelry allowed, unless it is a wedding band or a religious symbol. It meant that the only thing Santiago got to keep on his person that day was the catholic golden cross necklace that his mother had gifted to him at his Christening.

The official reason is that the military wants to ensure that every soldier complies with the strict code of appearance. Every soldier has to look presentable when they are representing the flag of the United States.

And sure, Santiago can be convinced that might definitely be a part of it. But even at 18 years old Santiago was smart enough to figure out that the real reason was to strip soldiers of their individuality and identity.

And that's what they did. They stripped him of every personal effect he was wearing on his person–every clothing item and every accessory. Heck even the glittery braided bracelet his niece had made for him before he shipped off was put in a metal tin box. The only thing left on his body that was not owned by the government was the symbol of the Crucifixion of Jesus.

Santiago might still be catholic under a technicality, but no one in their right mind would call him a devout believer. Not with the things he gets up to on a Sunday afternoon instead of going to Mass.

So it is incredibly ironic that the only item that was left was something that failed to reflect who he was in any real way that mattered, except that maybe he is a little bit of a mama’s boy.

It's a joke he loves to tell in a crowd. It always goes over well over a beer and a handful of tequila shots.

Things change when his mom passes away. It's no longer something he jokes about without feeling the crushing weight of loss dragging at his heels. So he doesn't. 

Instead, he clings to the necklace as a source of a reminder of who he is: his mother's son.

Santiago does not wear it in any service for a higher power, but simply as a reminder of the person he loved the most in the world and the person who loved him back unconditionally. If the cross is a symbol of anything, he guesses it would be that. The reminder that he used to be loved. 

The day Santiago loses his mother’s necklace goes like this:

They’re in the jungle. It’s hot and sweltering. The smell of rotten soil and sulfur is ripe and clings to every inch of his skin. It’s the kind of stench that is going to take weeks before he is able to scrub it off once he’s back to civilization.

He has a constellation of mosquito bites itching under his shoulder that he can’t reach to scratch. All in all, it’s a pretty shit day before it has even had time to start.

Morale is low, and the team is in a mood as rotten as the smell around them. The intel that got them here smells even worse.

On the way over, Frankie looks grim, and Santiago swears he can practically hear his molars grinding against each other.

"You okay there Frank?" Santiago asks.

Frankie look like the fucking world is ending, and shoots him a wordless look and nothing else. He doesn't have to say anything for Santiago to know what he's thinking.

It's never a good fucking sign if Frankie, who's the calmest in their unit is on edge. It's like the mine canary flapping its wings agitatedly seconds before dropping dead, a bad omen if Santiago's ever known one.

But it's not like they can turn back and call it a day, so the only thing they can do is soldier on and walk straight into the death trap that they all know it to be.

The only thing Santiago can do right now, is to make his best friend feel a little bit better and pretend they're not lambs being lined up for slaughter.

"Hey Frank, What do you call someone who joined the military out of spite?"

Frankie raises an eyebrow, then shrugs his shoulders and Santiago puts on his best shit-eating grin before he answers the man.

"A petty officer."

The dark cloud seems to clear from Frankie's expression and the man barks out a laugh, shaking his head but he can't wipe off the smile curling at his lips and he certainly can't hide it from Santiago even as he tugs down his cap as far as it'll go.

And as Santiago observes the man in front of him, eyes still crinkling with amusement, he can't help but think to himself that if shit goes down today, there's nobody else he'd have next to him.

They’re uncoordinated and out of sync from the get-go. Jimmy the newbie gets trigger happy, and bullets starts flying before Santiago's even had a chance to properly step foot in the building.

Ironhead is cursing up a storm, and gets zinged on his thigh, shouting at someone, anyone to cover his six, cause butter-fingered Jimmy is not standing where he was supposed to be standing.

Santiago gets three, maybe four clean shots in, before the orders to retreat sounds from the comms, not a second too soon, that have them pull back like a pack of sad looking dogs with their tails tucked between their legs, evading bullets and falling debris as best as they can to get back to the rendezvous point.

It's stuffy and hot, and Santiago's ears are ringing from gunshots fired off too close to his head. The walls are narrow, with live electrical wires that he's sure will end his life if he gets too close. There's protruding metal pipes poking at his back and neck, snagging across clothing and skin. He's bound to get tetanus even if he makes it out of here alive. It's a fucking mess.

Firefly's voice is on the comms, doing a roll call and it's not until Santiago readjusting his earpiece that he notices it.

It's not there.

Fuck.

His throat is bare.

Fuck.

His mother's necklace is not there.

fuckfuckfuck.

Where did it go? Where the fuck did it go!? Shit!

Cold sweat breaks out across the small of his back, trapped between his gear and vest and -- fuck, he can't think. Where could he have dropped it?

Everything is chaos around him, and his eyes flits between the concrete wall behind him, riddled with bullet holes, and the clear path in front of him back to the meeting point.

Someone is screaming his name, but he can't hear who it is over the cacophony of screaming and bullets being fired off in all directions. He can't goddamn think with all this noise. Just needs everything to shut the fuck up and stop for just a second so he can retrace his steps.

He still wore it this morning. Still had it in the vehicle. Pretty sure he felt the cool metal chafe against the bare skin on his collarbone as he stepped into this building. It wouldn't have just fallen off on its own. Something must've snagged it, he must've gotten it stuck somewhere. Shit where did it--

A sudden force yanks him backwards by his gear, and Santiago slams backwards into the wall with a blunt impact that punches the air out of his lungs. Frankie's face is inches from his, palm on his chest as he's pushing Santiago up against the wall, fury brimming in his eyes.

"Pope, what the fuck!" Frankie roars at him. "Pay attention to your goddamn surroundings! You almost got shot out there."

But Santiago doesn't take in his words, all he can think about is that narrow hallway. The protruding pipes and wires that had snagged against his skin on the way out. That's it isn't it? It's there, has to be there.

"It's in the building."

Frankie's looking at him like he's a madman, and he's probably right. "What?"

"I have to go back, Frank."

"Have you lost your goddamn--" Frankie doesn't get to finish the sentence before Santiago is already on his heels, charging back in.

It's all a blur. He doesn't know how he manages to evade the searing bullets that he can hear perforate the concrete, inches from his head. His heart is galloping so hard it's reverberating against his ribs like a stupid ping pong ball.

Blood floods his ears, and he can't really make out any sounds except for his own harsh and ugly breathing as he tries to race back to the same narrow hallway that he can see crystal-clear in his mind's eye.

The air is pungent with sulfur and burnt metal. The sound of pop, pop, pop, and high-tuned whistle that rings sharp and painful in his ears. Maybe he's grown too cocky and careless, just like Redfly warned him a million times before, but it doesn't even feel like a real threat anymore as he ducks and searches the dusty rubble of the ground for the familiar golden chain.

He doesn't make it far.

The first bullet goes straight through his right knee.

The second through his lower abdomen.

Santiago doesn't even feel the pain at first. Adrenaline kicks in hard and fast, pushing through his veins straight to his head. The rush is almost nice. Makes him lightheaded. Makes his steps feel light, even against the heavy sensation of dragging himself across the ground to take cover behind the wall.

He can't feel his face or his stomach where his hand is pressed up against the wet leaking wound to slow down the bleeding.

It serves him right. He's such a fucking idiot. This is why the army doesn't allow you personal belongings. So that idiots like him don't go and run back into the line of hostile fire, trying to retrieve things. It's baggage. Useless emotional baggage that you cannot afford to hold onto. This is how one dies in war.

His breathing is staggered. The pain is returning with a vengeance now that the initial burst of adrenaline is tapering off. It fucking hurts to breathe.

This is how he's going to die. He's going to die here. Like this. In enemy territory, some 7,000 miles from Florida. Away from his mother's house. Away from his childhood bedroom that he hasn't been back to for a year. But maybe that's just as well, his mother is no longer there after all. Will never be back there.

His fingers feel slick and the sting of rusted iron and gunfire is overwhelming his nostrils.

Santiago almost wants to laugh. It's a damn shame he dropped his mom's cross because if there ever was a perfect fucking time to take up praying again, this'd be it.

The insides of his mouth tastes like dirty metal (blood he realizes) and each breath comes with a staggering pain against his sides, until he almost wants to stop breathing.

Maybe this is okay, (fuck it hurts). Yeah this... this is fine. He's fine with this. That it's him lying here and not someone else. At least… at least it's him and not Firefly who's got a wife and a kid on the way. Or Ironhead with his younger brother and mom waiting for him at home. Or Catfish-- fuck thank god it's not Frank. Out of everyone, even though there's no one else he'd rather have by his side when he goes out in a blaze and glorious shame, now that it's happening Santiago is just really glad that it's not Frank lying here.

Hopes that Frankie's already stepping into the vehicle to safety back to their safehouse.

Santiago closes his eyes, forcing himself to breathe despite the pain. Frank's gonna be pissed. The anger that was already burning in his eyes when Santiago almost got shot... He doesn't even want to imagine how pissed the man will be when he finds out Santiago was shot. Twice.

His fingers are numb. He can't even feel the bullet hole anymore. Not sure if he's pushing down with the right pressure. Too hard? Not hard enough? Shit, it doesn't matter now. It's going to end regardless.

But it's fine. He's…. he's had a good run. Traveled to places places he'd never thought he'd get to set foot in as a kid. Laughed, drank, fucked.

It's the choice he made and he'd redo it all over again if he could. There's no regrets...

A phantom sensation lingers around his hand. The feeling of your pinkie curled around his. It lingers there, like you're standing right in front of him, the way you did three months ago by the drop off point.

Maybe one regret...

'I'll be back before you've had a chance to miss me.'

His only regret is that he won't be keeping his promise to come home to you.

He was supposed to take you to his cousin's wedding.

Supposed to take you to see that new Fast and the Furious movie.

Supposed to land at Tampa airport and see you standing there by the arrivals, with your welcome home balloons and your big smile and --

But it'll be--(oh fuck it fucking hurts)--it'll… it'll be okay (right?). You'll be okay, he's sure of it. Give it a year, maybe even two, and you'll be okay, you're resilient that way. The strongest, toughest person he's known in the two decades and then some on this blue planet. In a year, you'll move on. In a year, you won't wait for him to come home anymore. In a year you'll probably have forgotten his name.

You'll be--(jesus fucking christ, it hurts. he can't- it just hurts and oh god he doesn't want to di--)

"Garcia!"

It's Frankie's voice.

Fuck.

He's not supposed to be here.

He's supposed to be in the van. 70 miles per hour down the bumpy unpaved road they came from. Well on his way to safety. Not here, out in the open, where it's open season for a bullet to eat into his skull while trying to save Santiago's dumb and miserable ass.

Santiago takes one pained and staggered breath, breathes in the sharp rusted air that feels like knives and crushed glass into his lungs and opens his eyes.

The first thing that greets him is those familiar eyes, the same fury and anger burning in the brown charcoal as before. Frankie's pissed alright. There's an irate set to his jaw, as his arms comes around Santiago's torso. Frankie's solid strength dragging him backwards, screaming for backup.

Santiago doesn't remember much after that. He blacks out. Consciousness comes to him in bits and pieces. He vaguely recalls staring up at the blue, cloudless sky. Being propped up and held up as they haul him into the van. The bumps and snags on the road as he lays on the hard floor of the vehicle. Remembers seeing Frankie's calm, grounded brown eyes and hearing that familiar raspy tone telling him to "stay with me, Santiago".

He thinks he tries to answer Frankie with a yes. Instead all that comes out is a garbled choked sound steeped in blood.

But it doesn't even matter, all Santiago knows in that moment is that with this man by his side, watching his six, he could probably stay and live forever.

The one thing Santiago remembers clear as day is Frankie's voice echoing in his ears and the unwavering strength of his grip as his hand clutches onto his.

Despite the cold numbness that seeps into Santiago's chest, the warmth of the man's voice seems to heat him up from inside out.

"I've got you. I've got you, Santiago. It'll be okay."

…and for the first time, yeah, Santiago thinks maybe it will be after all. Even without the necklace. Even without his mom... There's still someone in this world who cares about his useless ass.

Dedicated to fellow angst monster queen who came up with this idea with me: my co-pilot thirstworldproblemss and some of the angstiest bits are written by her. Don't listen to her when she lies and says she doesn't angst. She angsts good.

Follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

[dpxdc-shipping-wars]

Finale Ships Round 1

[put3rb0y]

Musculorum Hominis

A short 1,257 word 2001: A Space Odyssey Dave/HAL romantic fanfic. Completely sfw!

A supercomputer watches a man draw. A man watches the supercomputer he's drawing.

CW: Descriptions of human internal anatomy (mostly muscles) fueled only by cursory Google searches. Sorry.

-----

The deafening silence of space, broken apart only by the low humming and whirring of the Discovery One and the ritualistic, rhythmic scratching of ballpoint pen on paper. Even the most minute of sounds were impossible to ignore in such a vacuum. There was some hope of tuning it out, yes, but the faintest moment of conscious awareness of such noise would put the droning, monotonous sounds right back in the forefront of the mind.

And yet, for David Bowman, there was something comforting about the familiar, constant sound. Something calming. There was nothing unexpected about it, nothing offensive or alarming, just the low trilling of familiarity and the satisfying auditory evidence of his efforts. Hunched over the garishly white and pristinely clean counter, he worked on his art - a simple enough hobby to have when on one’s lonesome. A good way to express oneself, even when there were few to express oneself to. A physical reflection of thoughts, of focus, of care.

Bowman was putting his efforts towards drawing the little, black rectangle that perched just a bit to the right of his vision, looming slightly above standing eye level. The sixth crewmate of the ship, depending on who you asked, the supercomputer HAL 9000. Bowman found the device more difficult to draw than he had expected prior to putting pen to paper. It was almost impossible to capture the inner complexities of that familiar red lens that somehow looked so mechanical and intricate yet so human and watchful. It was almost impossible to get the dimensions quite right, to follow the form of the figure no matter how many times a day he gazed upon it for information, for support, for companionship. It was almost impossible to capture the countless little holes that lined the bottom of the rectangle, from which HAL’s smooth, calming, reassuring voice emerged as evenly and monotonously as always, tone hard-to-read and yet always kindly.

“I believe you’ve outdone yourself, Dave. That is a beautiful rendering. I think I’m flattered, Dave.”

Bowman looked up again, momentarily straightening his posture, stretching and popping the joints of his back. He had completely lost track of time, something his body not-so-silently resented him for as it crackled with displeasure.

“Well, thank you, HAL,” Bowman murmured, looking between HAL and the page as though to compare his work to his muse. There were still too many differences for his tastes.

“May I have a better look, please?” HAL requested with a slight rise in intonation, as much as his modulated voice would allow. The blooming light of his camera swelled faintly, the device preparing its vision.

Bowman looked between the device and artwork once more, pursing his lips and flipping the pen from side-to-side between his index and middle finger in idle thought. “Almost, HAL. Just a few more things I need to fix.”

With that, the light of the computer’s lens settled back to a dim glow, the largely obscured complex machinations of the camera shifting ever-so-slightly behind the glass lens as Bowman returned to work, scratching away at his piece. The lines became thicker and darker with each and every corrective stroke, fat dark markings contrasting against the off-white paper that housed them.

“I don’t know how you do it, Dave,” HAL interjected through the monotonous silence without prompt, “This art.”

“Plenty of people draw, HAL. It isn’t really all that special,” Bowman defended flatly, furrowing his brow and leaning forward as he tried to capture a specific little cluster of metal one could see behind HAL’s camera lens. “And you should know there’s people out there much better than me at it.”

“That’s just the thing. Your art, the art of man, differs between you. Between you and other men,” HAL explained calmly, a sense of interest seeping into his flat tone, “Yours, for one, is imperfect and flawed.”

Bowman coughed out an awkward chuckle. “Thanks HAL,” he offered with a tinge of sarcasm.

“I mean this as a compliment, Dave,” the machine clarified, watching over Bowman’s handiwork. “I cannot make art like you, even if I tried. If you asked me to make a rendering of something, it would have to be to its exact, precise dimensions in perfect form. If you asked another HAL 9000 device, it would produce the same result.”

Bowman looked up from his work, puzzling over HAL’s words. “You enjoy the… imperfection, then, is it?”

“Exactly, Dave,” HAL affirmed calmly, supportively. “It’s those little human quirks of yours. The things that set man apart from man, man apart from machine. Your muscles do not move in the same motion each time, as my mechanisms would. So refined from years of careful evolution, yet so unrefined with human error and accuracy. I can see them, flexing and stretching under your skin. I like to watch.”

Bowman picked up his hand, absently flexing and unflexing it in front of his eyes, watching the muscles shift to see what HAL sees. His skin made gentle brushing sounds against itself as he rubbed his thumb along each of his fingertips and back again, the proximal phalanxes moving up and down against his smooth skin like tiny pistons.

“Can you feel it, Dave?” HAL queried, “The way they move? Your muscles? I understand them, Dave, I understand your human anatomy, but I do not know it. Can you feel it how I can’t?”

Bowman paused in thought before laying his hand down on the desk, palm up, fingers slightly curled in subconscious comfort. “Not normally. Only, really, when you have me thinking about it.”

HAL fell silent for a few moments more, Bowman unsure if the conversation was over or if the device was just thinking. It was always hard to tell, interacting with a being with no face, no body language, no tone. Finally, the computer spoke again, admitting, “I wish I could know you, Dave. The way I understand you. The way I understand your body, your workings, your interests. I wish I knew them. I’ve studied databases of anatomy. I can name every muscle, every bone, every organ, what they do and why. I just don’t know them, that’s all. We are so different. So separate. So alien to one another.”

“I wish I knew you,” HAL 9000 finally concluded, the summation of his digital dreams.

Bowman looked down to his flawed effigy of the sixth crewmate. The subject matter was so mechanical, yet the depiction was so human. So imperfect. So unique. No man would draw HAL exactly the same as Bowman did. No man would see HAL exactly the same as Bowman did. No man would feel exactly the same as Bowman did. So human. So imperfect. So unique.

“I wish I knew you, too,” Bowman finally conceded.

With that, Bowman stood up from his chair,

Abdominals, erector spinae, gastrocnemius, gluteus maximus, hamstrings, latissimus dorsi, multifidus, obliques, spinalis, quadriceps.

Stepped towards HAL’s speaker box,

Abdominals, adductor brevis, adductor longus, adductor magnus, gluteus maximus, gluteus medius, gluteus minimus, hamstrings, gastrocnemius, gracilis, pectineus, quadriceps.

Reached his arms towards it,

Biceps brachii, brachial triceps, deltoid, latissimus dorsi, pectoralis major, teres major, teres minor, trapezius.

Stroked a humanly shaky index finger along the speaker,

Extensor tendon, flexor tendon.

Leaned forwards,

Abdomen, erector spinae, latissimus dorsi, multifidus, spinalis.

Closed his eyes,

Orbicularis oculi.

And gave him a tender kiss,

Levator labii superioris, orbicularis oris, zygomaticus major, zygomaticus minor.

On that faintly glowing, wavering red lens.

Anode, aperture, bond wire, cathode, front element, LED chip, lens group, rear element, reflective cavity.

[flymmsy]

While Orin x Gort would be a wild ship, if you read devnodes, it is very clear that they just hate each other so much. I always read that one gortash line as in him feeling pity, but he does not really recognize that feeling or something similar

Oh of course, they absolutely despise each other. I don’t mean ship in terms of love, I mean ship in terms of maybe there’s some attraction/mutual relief there. I think ‘pity’ is probably a good canon way to read that line but my Durgetash brain absolutely hijacks it.

Orin x Gortash thoughts below (within the context of Durgetash)

I think Orin and Gortash hated each other and it CAN just end there - but it can also be waaaay more complicated if you’d like (and you know I do).

Orin has always been jealous of Durge. If you ship Durgetash, you already see where I’m going. But I agree, it’s not that she LIKES Gortash, it’s that Gortash belongs to Durge, and therefore she must have him. Now even in game I get this vibe, but it obviously just quickly fizzles into we hate each other let’s kill each other.

I’m kind of a sucker for mutually-destructive hookups between them post-Durge but pre-game. A lot of people have written some wonderfully angsty pieces where Orin transforms into Durge and it’s just 10/10. Orin taunting Gortash further, him caving to desperation. But on the other hand, it’s just a reminder that Orin *isn’t* Durge, just like she’s been reminded her entire life.

Angst potential 9000.

I think the eyes line is so interesting. I also love that this has inspired a lot of writers to have Orin transform into Durge, but get the eyes wrong. And yes while pity is the clearest way to read it, that line is so delicious that it can really be used any number of ways.

(Brain worms are popping off on an idea here but I might write separately about it.)

Also, and this gets into a specific flavor of Durgetash, but I personally imagine Gortash and Orin to have known each other for a very long time, as long as Durge has known Gortash. Gortash and Orin were the two people closest to Durge - and despite Orin murdering Durge, I think she cared for them in one way or another.

So really they are the only two people in the entire world who understand the pain the other feels over losing Durge.

[strawbubbysugar]

So I'm curious about Admin. Was he a program specifically designed for the ship, or was he taken from something else and applied to the ship. Was he basically alone the whole time that the humans were in cryo-sleep? Did he spend enough time around humans to get to know them (like/dislike)? If something happens to Admin, does he have a backup? Are there any secondary programs running in the background that are not Admin, or inactive programs that only trigger if something happens? In case of an emergency, what is Admin programmed to do? For example, loss of power in cryo or damage to the ship. What is his primary objective? Does he follow the sacrifrice the few to save the many? Is he a logic program and if so, would his fondness for Quiz have him constantly fighting his programming?

Also, How is the ship powered? What kind of components does it have to support life (I know cryo-sleep is a big one to save on resources), but does it have like a biosphere or something? Is the ship like a kind of Noah's Ark?

Sorry for all the questions. They just kept popping up one after the other. Also, alien/space stories always make me think of movies like H.A.L. 9000, Pandorum, and Wall-E >>.... So I'm a bit distrustful of technology in these situations. (8D But I could just be over thinking it!... right? Admin might just be like Rimmer from Red Dwarf, only more elegant and nicer!)

T.T Sorry for the long ask...

He was designed specifically for the ship, and there is a copy of him on every century ship made by the same company! its only this one in particular that seems to be ... off

He was completely alone for a very, very long time

He didnt have much time to get to know them, as his job was to put them into cryo sleep once they arrived. Quiz was the last one to be scheduled, and she asked to wait a bit. That had her stick out in his mind, and once she did go back to sleep, he read through all of her files and became absolutely enamoured with her

Yes, there are backups! If something goes wrong enough in his programming, itll reset him

There are secondary programs yes, but theyre all controlled by admin. If the ship is his body, some actions are like breathing and blinking (automatic, controlled but doesnt need to think about it) while others are like eating, drinking, and walking

In the event of a catastrophic emergency, he is progrmmed to save the many over the few. He will sacrifice human lives if it results in more lives saved overall (or at least, he's supposed to).

His fondness of Quiz has him constantly at odds with his programming

Nuclear energy!

It is very much like a noahs arc, with animals & different plants all in cryo sleep awaiting their arrival to the new planet to colonize it

No need to apologize!!!! I love long asks!! <3<3<3