#fed this to my sick brother. he’s eating Santa ass

[adharafirenze]

DOUBLE CHEEKED UP-

[returnn-of-the-mac]

The companions (+ Maxson) talk to Sole about an annoying or boring subject and Sole screams Shut Up! 🤐

This one was a lot of fun! Sorry it took so long to complete! If I were a companion in this request, I think I would annoy Sole by fangirling over MCR. Other than that, I’m totally 100% Codsworth (tag yoself when you’re done reading). I also had to change some name brands to made-up pseudonyms to avoid copyright issues. I normally like to write a silent Sole, but this request kinda required a talking Sole. Anyway, please enjoy!😄 (also the movie nickname rq one should be out either tonight or tomorrow!)

FO4 Companions (+Maxson) React: Companions Rambling & Sole Telling Them to Shut Up

Sole’s eye twitched as their companion rambled on for the third day in a row about the same topic. As much as they adored their companion and admired their enthusiasm about the subject, they couldn’t take it anymore. A fed-up Sole stopped dead in their tracks, turned around, and snapped:

Strong:

“Shut up! I‘m done listening to you explain the best way to gut and cook rotting narwhal flesh,” Sole fumed, “I don’t care if you drench it in tato paste or barbecue blood. I’m never going to eat it, Strong. Never!”

Strong frowned, “No be mean human! Or no find milk! Be nice!”

“Strong, I’m sorry. I’m not eating a parasite-infested narwhal corpse.”

“Come on! Rotting horn whale taste like giant fish stick!”

Deacon:

”Shut up! I don’t want to hear about the benefits of changing the HQ password to DEACON IS COOL anymore,” Sole hissed, “Besides, there is a huge hole in your plan. You can’t even spell that with the letters available!”

“Woah there, calm down pal. I didn’t think of that,” Deacon mumbled. He quickly lit up, “But there’s nothing a little permanent marker can’t fix!”

“You think Desdemona isn’t going to notice black marker squiggles all over the door?”

Deacon scoffed, “Um, I’m not stupid. That’s why I’m going to use a brown marker, pal.”

Curie:

“Shut up! I can’t listen to you talk about spinal contusions and brain injuries anymore. It’s making me squeamish.”

Curie immediately stopped talking and her face fell.

“Curie, I’m sorry, I—“

“I’m sorry, [Madame/Monsieur],” the synth began, her eyes welling with tears, “I hope I didn’t upset you. I just find that topic fascinating.”

Gage:

“Shut up! I don’t care about all the pranks you’ve played on Mason. I don’t blame him for being pissed off.”

“Damn. Anyone teach ya manners, boss?” Gage scowled, “Anyway, what? Ya ain’t gonna appreciate the fact that I egged the furry bastard while he was ramblin some mumbo-jumbo-bullshit to his pack of loonies?”

Sole shook their head.

“Or that I lit a bag of Molerat shit on fire right on top of his pompous-ass throne?”

Sole shook their head again.

“Well, boss. You ain’t got no sense of humor, then.”

Piper:

“Shut up! I’m sick and tired about hearing about how Sturges is a synth,” Sole shouted, “I can get behind McDonough being a synth, but there is no way that Sturges is one.”

“But Blue, he has all the signs. He—“

“And so what? What do you want me to do? Even if he hypothetically is a synth, I’m not turning my back on him. I’m still friends with Danse and I’m not dead yet. Curie’s a synth and she’s a sweetheart. X6? Nick?”

Piper‘s face dropped for a moment, before glaring at Sole and turning her back.

Sole sighed, “Piper, I—“

“Don’t talk to me right now.,” The reporter hissed.

Longfellow:

“Shut up! I don’t care about the eight basic knots.”

Longfellow shook his head in disappointment, “I understand you’re sick of this old man bugging you about tying knots, but it is useful information. You never know when you could find yourself in a situation where you need to tie a good ol reef knot, or clove hitch!”

Longfellow pulled a small rope from out of his pocket and Sole sighed.

“Shall we attempt a figure-eight knot today?”

MacCready:

“Shut up! Stop talking about Santa Claus. I know you read about him in an old book we found but—“

MacCready stubbornly crossed his arms, “Oh yeah? I think you’re just being a snob. Some of us haven’t been lucky enough experienced this, [name]. How can you not obsess over a fat guy who spies on people to see if they’re good, breaks into homes, and leaves presents?That’s so cool!” He paused, “I…probably would’ve gotten coal though.”

Sole’s eyebrows furrowed, “Mac—“

“It’s a darn shame he had to die when the bomb dropped. He could’ve brought so much joy to the Commonwealth.”

“—he’s not real.”

MacCready’s jaw dropped, “But the books, the posters, the pictures…there’s so much evidence.”

“Marketing.”

MacCready shook his head in disappointment, “Pre-war Capitalist propaganda…”

Ada:

“Shut up! I already told you I don’t know what a Sara is. How am I supposed to understand what you’re talking about when you tell me you were a Sara prototype?”

“[Sir/Ma’am], like I said before: Sara was a virtual assistant software that was going to be implemented in all future Vault Tec electronic devices. It had a speech recognition engine that could assist users. My biggest flaw was that I could not translate into other languages. I was scraped and remained inactive in a dumpster for years before Jackson reprogrammed me.”

“I still can’t wrap my head around that technological advancement. It doesn’t seem real.”

“Yes, it was highly advanced. That is why it did not make its debut before the bombs dropped.”

Hancock:

“Shut up! I’m done listening to your crazy Daddy-O trip stories. If you hate the chem so much, why don’t you stop taking it?”

Hancock laughed, “Well, [brother/sister], my Daddy-O rides are a lot more fun to talk about than my Jet or Mentat highs,” he thought for a moment, “I mean, besides the time I solved the theory of Quantum Physics on a Mentat high— that was fuckin wild— but other than that it’s more entertaining to talk about the time I shoved an entire summer squash up my ass while on the Big D.”

Cait:

“Shut up! I wish we’d never found that copy of 40 Shades of Silver. Please stop talking about it.”

“Darlin, I never read. But I could not for the life of me put down that book,” Cait sighed, “It was so…wonderfully smutty.”

Sole grimaced.

“That lass really knows how to have a good time. Sounds like a fantasy of mine, gettin hot n dirty n aggressive like that.”

“Stop…”

“Why? Ain’t it a pleasure to talk about?”

Codsworth:

“Shut up! I don’t understand your obsession with Mr. Tidy Magic Erasers. You’ve been talking about them now for. Three. Days.”

Codsworth beamed, “Well, [sir/mum], you know what they say: there’s no tidy like Mr. Tidy!”

Sole rolled their eyes.

“Besides, have you seen how well those suckers eliminate stuck-on grease and grime from dishes,” Codsworth began, “Oh wait, you haven’t. That’s right. You don’t wash your own dishes.”

Preston:

“Shut up! I’m sick and tired of hearing about all the settlements that need our help. Maybe they‘d have a better chance of defending themselves if we didn’t coddle them.”

Preston crossed his arms, “How could you say that, General? I thought you truly embraced the values of the Minutemen.”

“I do Preston, but I think we just need to take a break.”

“Justice never rests. These settlements need us, General. I understand it’s exhausting, but we need to protect these innocent people from the dangers of the Commonwealth.”

Nick:

“Shut up! Please, no more dad jokes. I’m begging you, Nick,” Sole plead, “I’m…I’m annoyed.”

The detective chuckled, “Hi annoyed, I’m Nick Valentine. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Stop!”

“I’m not moving!”

Sole grunted in defeat at the detective wore a smug smirk, pleased by the outcome of his jokes.

Maxson:

“Shut up! I’m tired of hearing about the technological prowess of the Prydwen. It’s not that great. It’s just a blimp.”

“Show some respect,” Maxson growled, “And you think the Prydwen is just a blimp? How dare you deride the work of the prestigious mechanics who designed the Prydwen. It is my pride and joy. It is the most advanced vehicle in the Commonwealth.”

“Maybe you should get those prestigious mechanics to work on your Vertibird death traps.”

Maxson frowned, “Vertibird design overhauls are in the agenda. We just have more important projects to tackle before then…such as the redesign of my quarters,” Sole shook their head as Maxson pulled out a color card, “I’m thinking a Deep Ruby Maroon would feel more homey than the current Grumpy Grunt Grey I currently have. But I also like Apple Cider Brown. What do you think?”

Danse:

“Shut up! Can we please just talk about something other than the Fancy Lad Snack cakes?” Sole pled.

“First of all, don’t talk to me like that, soldier. That’s blatant disrespect and I will not tolerate it,” Danse barked.

“Sorry…”

“Second, that Courser friend of yours is out of his damn mind. How can any sane individual honestly believe that strawberry Fancy Lads are superior to vanilla ones?”

“Each to their own?”

“That only pertains to subjective topics. This argument— if we can even call it that— is a solid fact and therefore cannot be disputed.”

X6-88:

“Shut up! What is with synths and Fancy Lad snack cakes? You’ve been raving about them for three days.”

“Hey, now. I suggest you calm down,” X6 warned, “A lot of people— such as your Brotherhood friend— like the vanilla cakes, [sir/ma’am], but the real delicacy are the strawberry cakes with chocolate icing.”

“Does it really matter who likes what flavor?”

“Yes. This is an urgent matter. We should not have to dispute this to be completely honest. It is a fact that strawberry Fancy Lads are superior to vanilla ones.”

[sohotthateveryonedied]

This was so fun to think about, seriously you’re awesome and I love you anon ♥️

Damian:

• *looks in the mirror five seconds after the spell hit. gasps* “I’m HIDEOUS!!!”

• Wayne Enterprises employee, smiling brightly: “Good morning Mr. Drake-Wayne. How are you today?”

Damian: “I don’t know but you’re fired.”

• He gets so fed up with having to push Tim’s bangs from his eyes that he resorts to borrowing Cass’ sparkly butterfly hair clips to keep them up and out of his face.

• “Why am I only an inch taller than I used to be? I still can’t reach Pennyworth’s cookie jar even on my tiptoes. You need to grow more, Drake.”

• He finds out why Tim wears long sleeves so often, but he doesn’t say anything to Tim about it. He does file it away for future conversation, though, and he monitors Tim more closely even after the whole incident is over.

• “Damian, why are you chugging an entire carton of milk?”

“Because Drake is too small for me to tolerate any longer. I’m a beanpole. A toothpick. A runt amidst a litter of bats.”

• *goes outside for an hour* “HOW THE HELL AM I SO SUNBURNED??? WHAT ARE YOU, A VAMPIRE???”

• He’s sad when his pets don’t recognize him and run when he tries to pet them. As a solution, he douses his entire body in catnip. Turns out Tim never told him he was allergic to catnip, so that was an interesting discovery.

• He has to drink at least four cups of coffee a day or else he gets sick because at this point Tim is addicted to coffee.

Same goes for normal food. Eating ramen noodles with goldfish and butterscotch pudding is fine, but he ate one (1) apple and his body tried to reject it.

• Ives: “Hey Timbo, what’s up?”

Damian: “Uh....Hello, associate of mine. Feeling very fleek today. Everything is cool beans. Crackalackin.”

Tim:

• “Why are my pecs so huge.” *cups them* “They feel like rock hard muscle melons. Like a cantaloupe filled with pure power. What strong breasticles.”

• He’s amazed by the amount of muscle on Jason’s body and spends most of his time trying to see what stuff he can crush with his bare hands.

*breaks a stick in half* “I AM ALMIGHTY.”

• He braids Jason’s white streak and pins it back with some pink hair clips Steph gave him.

*poses in the mirror* “I’m a buff zombie princess.”

• *on the phone with Roy* “Hey Roy, so remember that secret I told you once and demanded you never to tell anyone else? Yeah, that one. Would you mind explaining it to me in explicit detail, slowly so I can write it all down.”

• *gentle gasp* “I’m allowed to drink alcoholic beverages in this body.”

*later that night after his fifth shot of appletini* “DO YOU EVER JUST THINK ABOUT THE MUPPETS AND CRY??? KERMIT THE FROG MAN, KERMIT THE FROG.”

• He has to wear sunglasses and a hat whenever he goes out because he has to make sure no one in Gotham recognizes the late Jason Todd.

• The first time he sees what Jason’s body really looks like under all the armor and layers, he’s shocked. Jason doesn’t take his shirt off in front of people much because he’s embarrassed by all the scars. Tim tries not to look at them because he knows Jason doesn’t like sharing this detail with anyone, but occasionally he finds himself absently tracing the autopsy scar under his shirt. He has a new respect for Jason after this whole ordeal.

Jason:

• “I feel like an overcooked noodle.”

• Adjusting to how flexible Dick is turns out to be quite the experience. He does the splits with no problem. He swings from a tree branch and lands on the ground as fluid as a leaf. He does four backflips in a row.

Jason, cartwheeling through the room: “Watch as he flips with the greatest of ease, the rad noodle man on the flying trapeze.”

Dick, in his tiny Damian voice: “That’s not even how the song goes!”

• “Why does my mouth taste like ketchup and ice cream 24/7. What do you eat, Dick.”

• At first he thinks it’ll be nice for once, being able to walk around Gotham without worrying about people recognizing him as being a dead man. Turns out, it’s almost worse when he can’t go to a McDonald’s without a bunch of paparazzi and fan girls following him around and begging to take a picture with the hottest Wayne boy.

• He goes to the police precinct for work and is on edge the whole time because this is the first time in years he’s been surrounded by cops who don’t want to arrest him.

• Catcaller: “Hey, nice ass!”

Jason: “Thanks, I got it from my brother!”

• Dick from the next room: “If you smoke in my body and give me cancer I’ll kill you!”

Jason, with a lit cigarette in his mouth: “It’s a metaphor, you see. I died once and I’ll die again because I’m not a fucking coward.”

• After he’s back in his own body: “Hey, I wonder if I can still do all that flipsy shit.”

Later: “So, Master Jason, tell me again how you shattered your collarbone?”

Dick:

• He eats one (1) cheeseburger, but unfortunately forgot about Damian being vegetarian so he winds up getting violently sick because the body he’s in doesn’t accept meat anymore. So that was a learning experience.

• “Why does it physically hurt to smile. Who hurt you, Damian.”

“A bunch of assassins and a psychopath for a grandfather.”

• Damian may be athletic, but he’s nowhere near as stretchy as Dick is used to. He tries putting his leg behind his head and nearly breaks his pelvis.

One upside is he’s far smaller and lighter in Damian’s body, which makes swinging around on the trapeze a breeze. He’s like an Acrobat Barbie doll.

• He has to call Tim for help when he can’t reach his cereal on the top shelf.

Tim, walking into the kitchen half asleep and confused: “Are you one of Santa’s elves?”

Dick, sobbing on the floor: “I CAN’T REACH MY FRUITY PEBBLES”

• He starts crying again later that afternoon because “THIS WEAK ASS BODY CAN’T EAT SRIRACHA WHAT AM I GOING TO DO NOW???”

• He stands in the middle of the room and watches all the adults bustle around: “I am a bean. A tiny chihuahua. A mere flea in a world of elephants and woosles.”

• “If there is one upside to all of this body-swapping, at least I can finally use the Dora the Explorer baby toothpaste without being ridiculed.”

• Jon: “Hi, Dami! What’s up?”

Dick: *to himself* “Hmmm what would Damian say...Oh, I know!”

To Jon: “Salutations, comrade. Photosynthesis. Lackadaisical. The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”