i missed my muscles

You guys.. I had the most intense Feeli-O’s for Zerhys lately and I just had to draw the Smol Tol picking up the Big Tol and being happy.

i’m not sure if i’m more proud of Tary for being a fkin sneaky bastard and it paying off handsomely you slimy son of a bitch, or of Grog for beating at least 47 different odds conspired against him with nothing but a hammer, and the sheer volume of fucks he does not give


tumblr messed up the quality im smad

i drew them when i was really upset i hope it doesnt show too much lmao

Concert Mischief - S.M

so I accidentally deleted this! literally kill me I was just trying to fix something but no my fat fingers hit delete instead of edit 

“Babe you will do fine” I whispered for the third time.

“I don’t want it to be fine, I want it to be great” he gripped my hand a little tighter.

“then do it how you want to it, not how management wants” I said getting on my tippy toes and kissing his forehead.

“what if they don’t like it” he said holding onto my hands that were on either side of his face.

“they will, you know how I know?” I smiled brightly at him.

“how?” he breathed back.

“because I love it” I stared into his eyes.

“you love everything I do” he mumbled. “you have to, you’re my girl” he let one hand drop from his face.

“okay well they will love it because you made it. Because you once again poured your heart into a new song and a new concert” I ran my spare hand through his hair ruffling it up a bit he ducked from my touch.

“I’m so glad you’re here” his smile grew a little more.

Keep reading

Hockey Camp - Auston Matthews (Part 4)

Auston Matthews x Reader

Word Count: 1760

Warnings: Some swearing

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

A/N: Wow! First of all, I’d like to personally thank everyone who’s liked this story, I just started writing it one day at work while I was bored and decided the other afternoon to post it, and never thought I’d get a response, let alone a positive one - so thank you!

I honestly had so much fun writing this chapter, it made me nostalgic for hockey practices with my teammates when we used to fool around and try and get each other in trouble. (I miss playing so much).

Hope you enjoy!


Practice gets off to a hectic start. Firstly, you can’t find your neck guard while getting dressed (it’s stuck to the inside of your jersey, which you didn’t notice until after you put it on and felt something weird touching your ribs). Because of this, you’re late getting on the ice, and miss your chance to warm up before the coach calls everybody over to explain the first drill. One of your favourite parts of practice is having a nice long warm up skate to stretch out and loosen your muscles from the day before.

You try not to let it frazzle you, but you can’t seem to focus properly. You keep losing the puck and making bad passes, and your entire body feels tight and uncomfortable. Steph notices, and skates over to you while you wait for your turn in a passing drill.

“Hey, everything alright?”

“Not really,” you confess. “My muscles are all super sore and I missed warm-up because I couldn’t find my neck guard in time.”

“Relax. Everyone has an off day. Plus, it’s only day two. They understand that we’re all still adjusting to how hard the camp is on our bodies.”

You nod, actually trying to take in what Steph is saying instead of denying it and having a negative attitude like you always do. “Thanks, Steph.”

The coach blows his whistle, and you grab a puck, racing around the circle. You take a wristshot, nailing the top left hand corner. It’s the first time you’ve scored all practice.

But there’s no time to celebrate - the drill isn’t over yet. You stop in front of the net, fighting for position with the defenseman and trying to block the goalie from seeing the puck. You manage to shift to just the right spot and create an effective screen, as you hear the puck fired by your defenseman hit the back of the net. Two for two.

You maintain your screen as your forward partner rounds the other circle and takes the shot. He snaps it quickly with his stick, sneaking it past the goalie’s outstretched pad and hitting the lower left corner of the net.

“Breakout, breakout!” The centre yells. He’s been waiting off to the side until the first part of the drill was over. He picks up another puck. You and the other winger switch lanes, and the centre sends the puck hurtling hard towards you.

But you’re ready.

You receive the pass with soft hands and look up to see a defender already on top of you. Normally, most people would panic, but you know you’re faster. You flick your head to the right, faking the defender out, and then chip the puck off the boards to the left, skating around her before picking up the puck.


With a quick look, you make a saucer pass over the other defender’s stick to your centre. He receives it and dekes the goalie out, neatly tucking it in the top right corner. Four for four.

“Nice one!” the centre skates over to you and gives you a high-five. You’re surprised by how youthful he looks. He must be around six feet tall, but his gangly build and pre-pubescent face make him look like an adorable oversized puppy.

“Thank-you,” you say, smiling at him. “Nice shot you’ve got there.”

“Thanks!” he replies brightly, his positive energy contagious. “You’ve got some great passing skills. I’m Mitch, by the way.”

“Y/N.” You nod your head by way of greeting.

Mitch opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by the coach blowing the whistle. “Two laps, then take a break for water!”

Everyone abandons the drill and begins to skate hard around the perimeter of the rink. You finish your two laps, among the leaders of the pack, and cruise over to the bench to grab some water.

You’re about to pick up your bottle when somebody nudges you.

“Hello again!”

You turn and look up to see Mitch’s smiling face.

“Oh hey! We meet once more.” You pour some water into your mouth, and Mitch does the same.

“Practice is real tough today, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding. “And it’s only day two. Next thing you know, they’ll be making us bag skate.”

Mitch’s eyes widen, horrified. “Don’t say that too loudly, or they’ll get ideas.”

You laugh.

“I thought I was fit before I came here. My, did I have a rude awakening yesterday. The only person I know that isn’t dying right now is him.” Mitch points to a tall guy with his back turned to you. “Total hotshot,” he says sarcastically, and proceeds to poke the blade of his stick into the guy’s armpit.

“What the-!” the guy yelps, turning around. “Mitch, what the fuck, dude?”

Mitch laughs and you take a closer look at the guy. Of course.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Auston says, his eyes lighting up. He smiles at you and your heart jumps a little.

“You two have met?”

“Yeah,” you explain quickly. “We’re acquainted.” You immediately want to slap yourself. Who even says ‘we’re acquainted’? You sound like a grandmother.

The coach blows his whistle sharply. “Auston, Mitch, and Y/N. Since you are all obviously more concerned with chatting than listening like everybody else, perhaps you three would like to demonstrate the next drill?”

“Sure coach!” Mitch says enthusiastically. You and Auston exchange a look.

The coach frowns. “Get yourselves in positions,” he barks. “I don’t care who’s normally centre or left wing or whatever. Decide fast. I want you guys to break out of the zone quick, weave at least twice before you hit the red line. Then you can worry about stickhandling around the defender. This drill is all about passing, positioning, and teamwork.” He turns back to the group of players kneeling on the ice. “If only two out of three forwards touches the puck in this drill, you can forget about shooting. There is no excuse for not being able to make at least three passes before you get to the offensive zone. Got it?”

Everyone else nods.

“I need an answer.”

“Yes!” the group responds.

“Alright.” The coach blows his whistle loudly. “Y/N, Auston, Mitch. Take it away.”

Since you and Auston both shoot left-handed and Mitch shoots right, Mitch moves over to right wing, while you take your regular left wing position, and Auston gets centre.

Without any hesitation, Auston picks up a puck, loops around the net, and fires it over to Mitch, who’s already picked up a considerable amount of speed. Shit, they’re really fast.

You hustle over towards the centre of the ice, and Mitch does the same. You get so close to each other, for a split second you think you’re going to crash, but then Mitch side-steps an inch to the left and makes a drop pass. You pick it up with ease, and in no more than a second, you’re on the right wing, ready to pass it to Auston. You fire the puck low and flat across the ice as hard as you can, but Auston receives it so softly, he makes your pass look weaker than it is.

He and Mitch weave in and out with each other, appearing completely at ease. The way they’re so aware of each other’s position on the ice without having to look makes it obvious that they have played together for a while.

You end up with the puck as you cross the blue line. You consider taking a shot, but the goalie’s far out in his crease, making for an easy save.

Then you get an idea.

You pick up speed, pretending like you’re going in to shoot. The goalie backs into his crease correspondingly, covering less of the net. You wind up but then stop halfway, quickly using your backhand to drop pass it back to Auston, who you know is directly behind you. You barely have a second to jump away before Auston wires a slapshot into the right side of the net.

“Yeah baby!” Mitch whoops, bringing you and Auston in for a celebratory group hug. His long arms wrap around both your shoulders. “Great job team.”

You smile widely and Auston rolls his eyes.

“Mitch, please stop touching me. Your gloves stink and the smell is gonna make me puke.”

Mitch feigns obliviousness. “What, my gloves?” He shoves both his hands in Auston’s face. “They smell like roses!”

Auston smacks Mitch’s hands away, but Mitch immediately tries to shove them in his face again. The two begin play-fighting, and much to your amusement, Mitch manages to get Auston in a headlock, trapping the taller and stronger boy under his birdlike arms. Eventually they end up on the ground, laughing so hard they can’t move anymore.

You stare down at them, shaking your head. “You guys are idiots.”

Mitch scrambles to his feet, pushing his helmet back down on his head. A goofy grin is plastered across his face. “Why thank-you. I take pride in being an idiot.”

As Auston stands up, he reaches over and smacks Mitch on the back of the head. 

Mitch turns around to face him. “You wanna go again bro? You wanna fight? Huh? Come at me,” Mitch taunts Auston, throwing his gloves down to the ice. When Auston doesn’t respond, he shoves his chest. “You scared? Why’re you so scared of me, huh?”

“Mitchell Marner!”

You all turn your heads to look at the coach.

“Why are your gloves off? Stop fucking around and get back in line, or you’ll be doing laps after practice!” He glares at the three of you and mutters to himself before turning around.

“Yes sir!” Mitch grabs his gloves and salutes the coach’s back.

“Ooh, someone got in trouble,” Auston teases.

“You started it.”

“Your gloves started it, actually. If you washed them for once in your life, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“But washing your equipment is bad luck!”

“Guys, c’mon,” you beg, laughing. “I don’t really feel like doing any more laps today.”

“Yeah,” Auston agrees. He elbows Mitch in the ribs.


“Listen to the girl, she’s got a point.”

‘Listen to the girl, she’s got a point’” Mitch mocks Auston. “You’re just saying that because you li-”

Mitch is cut off as Auston clamps his glove over Mitch’s mouth, muffling his words.

“I swear to god Marner, if one more word comes out of that big mouth of yours I’ll-”

“Alright, that’s it!” the coach bellows. “You three - I want 10 laps, now! Everyone else is free to leave.”

You glare at the both of them. “Way to go guys.”

[Part 5]

A group shot of my mischief. Sadly, we lost Blue earlier this week. Blue had come to us malnourished and sickly. I did my best to keep him going with ensure and tlc. Blue seemed to have a disease that didn’t allow for him to put on any weight and slowly ate at his muscle mass.

I will miss my Blueberry for his gentle and calm demeanor. I will miss him for his cuddles and the rare kiss or two. Blue was small, gentle, and sweet.

Frustrated & Stressed part 2

The overflowing motivation and inspiration was dwindling down by day 4 and was completely gone by day 5. I managed to finish the nervous system the other day and as I was starting on the muscular system the following day, our group from another course had an emergency meeting. Apparently the script that I had made for our short film was lost. Although we were able to recover it, half of the script was gone. So I had to look up the file and resend it again. Day 4 seemed to be an unlucky day for me. I was summoned all day by various group activities and by the time it was all over, the sun has set and my time was running out.

As soon as I got back to my apartment, I immediately went straight to my drawings which I had left on my floor a couple hours ago in my mad dash to other committments. I haven’t felt as busy as today in my entire life.

But Day 5 proved me wrong.

Last night, I have finished colouring the nervous system and have managed to do a quick outline for the muscular before I literally passed out on the floor. So now I wake with a kink in my neck and lower back due to the uncomfortable position I was in all night.

I eventually got up and looked around the mess I had made. Scattered all over the floor were art supplies, sketches, notebooks and I had various medical books open in front of me. I couldn’t remember how much studying I got last night so that meant I have to re-read them again.

“Later,” I muttered. It was only a little after nine in the morning so I have enough time to finish everything before immersing myself in this again. I decided to take a quick shower to help ease my sore muscles.

After that somewhat relaxing shower, I shut the water off and stumbled back to my room, putting on the most comfortable clothes from my closet. I think it’s Harry’s shirt because of the holes in it and I do not own any band shirts. And judging by the massive KISS printed in front, it’s his.

I went to the kitchen to start up the percolator and noticed the half-eaten sandwich that was starting to spoil on the table. The coffee pot made a noise and I walked over to make myself some. As I took a sip, I thought about my plan for today. The only thing left for me to do was the muscular system visuals then it’s all readings for me. Thinking about the pending work made my shoulders slump. I was so tired. I have poured all of me into this study week plan to get my grades on a good start because I had the awful habit of procrastinating – like any other college student – but when I get spurts of motivation, I take advantage of it. It was the only way I could actually finish things.

So to kind of put the impending at the back of my mind, I decided to do a bit of cleaning because my flat needed it. I started with the kitchen then the bedroom, avoiding the living room so as not to disturb the calm that had blanketed my work space. I finished everything in two hours and I guess that was enough avoiding the inevitable.

I dragged myself to the living room where I sat back down on the floor and gave one last sigh to my school works but as soon as I grabbed my pencil and sketchpad, all thoughts of fatigue, dread and hopelessness vanished and once again I was immersed in a world of colour and curiosity that made me forget about reality for a couple of hours.

I don’t know how long it had been but somewhere between sketching the rectus femoris and the hamstring group, I felt a pang of pain in my midsection. My mind immediately thought of its place as the rectus abdominis and I was sucked back into the system.

I had this thought at the edge of my mind that I was forgetting something but I brushed it off and continued to draw the last of the muscles. After a few more lines, I was finally done. I laid all of them neatly on the floor and admired them. The only thing left to do was to color them in.

Knock. Knock

My head snapped to the direction of my door and I stood up, hearing my bone crack in the process. Yikes. How long have I been sitting there?

Another round of knocks sounded as I stalked over the door. I didn’t bother looking through the peephole as I swung the door open. And there revealed a tall man wearing all black with bags on his hands. I didn’t get the chance to fully inspect him before I was engulfed in a warm hug. But I didn’t need to see him, though, because his familiar scent told me all I needed to know. That he was here, in the flesh and that this was real. “Hey,” he whispered in my ear and pressed a kiss to my head as we both held each other. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him until now. I felt my muscles relax as he held me tighter and breathed me in. He has been gone too long.

“Hi,” I finally said, after releasing each other and I got to get a good look at him. He was wearing his dark peacoat – my favorite – over his YSL shirt and some skinny jeans with his tan boots, of course. Slung over his shoulder is his leather duffel bag. He looked more broader, his hair a lot longer and more handsome than before he left for tour. Tour. Wait. “What are you doing here? You have tour.”

He raised an eyebrow at me and smiled amusedly. “It ended months ago, love. Don’t you remember?”

I smacked my head as my mind cleared up a little bit from all those terms I have managed to get stuck in my brain. “Right, right. Of course. You were in LA with Jeff.” I said mostly to myself. I opened the door wider to let him in. “Why didn’t you text me, though? I would have picked you up at the airport or something,” I followed him to the living room where he placed his bags beside the couch where my things were still strewn across the floor. He spun around and laughed at me, “or I could’ve cleaned in here to make the place more presentable.”

Harry gestured for us to move our conversation to the kitchen. “I don’t mind the clutter, it’s nice to see you actually study plus I did text you.”

“You did?” Now that I think of it, I haven’t checked my phone for days. I silently followed him again and as soon as I stepped into the kitchen, I was blinded by the fluorescent.

“Jesus, (Y/N),” Harry muttered and grabbed both my shoulders. I looked up at him, confused but he just stared at me. His eyes flitted between my own, a crease had formed in the middle of his forhead, and his lips were pressed into a tight line. “When was the last time you slept?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “I just woke up a couple hours ago, Harry.”

“Are you sure?” I nodded at him. “How about the last time you ate?” I was going to roll my eyes at him again but I stopped and really thought about it. Harry’s hands left my shoulders and wound them across his chest when I was taking too long to answer as if proving a point.

If I remember correctly, when I woke up this morning I had coffee but that was it. “Uh, I had coffee for breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” He looked at me incredulously.

Not this again. I am in no mood to have this conversation with him. I am overly tired and as if the universe was suddenly against me, my stomach grumbled reminding me I still haven’t had lunch. “If it makes you feel any better, we can go grab lunch now.” I offered.

“It’s too late for that now, isn’t it?” He scoffed. Seriously, what the hell is his problem? Sure I missed a meal, it’s not like we couldn’t grab one right now. And here I am volunteering to eat and yet he’s still mad at me. What on earth does he want me to do?

I can feel the slight irritation crawling on my skin at the tone of his voice. “What?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Look out the window.”

I looked to my right expecting to see something significant but all I could see was pitch black, I could barely see over my backyard. What was I supposed to be looking at exactly? Everything is dark.

Then it hit me. Dark.

That meant the stars were out and possibly the moon. Night. It was already night time. It was too late for lunch. I glanced back at Harry and grabbed for his wrist where a gold watch was strapped. The tiny clock read 11:45pm. It was almost midnight. It was too late for dinner too. Wow. Time flew by without me noticing. A lot of things seemed to slip my mind lately.

“Baby, are you okay?” Harry’s voice broke through my thoughts. He was now holding my face, his expression soft and his previous anger was replaced with worry. “You’re shaking,” on cue, my senses returned to me and I could feel my body was indeed shaking.

“I–” I didn’t know what to say. I suddenly felt dizzy and I could feel my body go limp, my knees weakening.

“Woah,” Harry immediately caught me, wrapping both arms around my waist before I hit the ground. He half-carried me over to the bar stool and sat me there. My head lolled forward, landing on his shoulder. “Love, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

I blinked a few times and tried to assess myself. I pulled away from Harry’s shoulder weakly and tried to hold it there as I attempted to speak. He snaked a hand to my cheek where I leaned in for support. “I think I’m h-having hypoglycemia… you know… when… blood sugar is low because of…” I paused, my head spinning. “… and I think I’m dehydrated.” I furrowed my eyebrows at him.

I squinted as my vision became a little bit blurry. I tried to make out his face, his eyes. His eyes that were once so vibrant and full of life was now dull and full of worry. Because of me. Because of my carelessness. “Do I need to bring you to the hospital?”

“No, no,” I shook my head weakly and winced as the world tipped slightly. “There’s a juice box in the fridge, I think, and I also think there’s a chocolate bar, too.” He looked like he was going to protest about my food choices, probably going to say it wasn’t healthy or some shit so I quickly added, “I need those, first, Harry. Don’t fight me on this one.” And with that, he gently positioned me to lean on the table as he went to the fridge and got what I asked him.

He popped the straw in the box and placed it on my lips. I reluctantly took a sip and was grateful for the liquid as it entered my system but all too soon, it was pulled away from me and was replaced by a bar of Snickers. I took one bite and took my time chewing it. It really bewilders me how I didn’t realize how much time I was spending in my studies so I came to the conclusion that: College is toxic.

Harry waved the candy bar in front of me again but I shook my head to say that I only needed a bite. He pushed back the juice box towards me as he put the chocolate in the fridge and grabbed a water bottle before closing the door.

“How are you feeling?” He asked. I only shrugged in response because I didn’t know if the food had worked its magic on me yet. I brought my hand up to see if I was shaking and still, I was. I sighed to myself and held the juice box between my hands, no longer feeling like drinking it. Harry had his massive hands on my back, rubbing smooth circles on it.

The next few minutes were spent in silence, me sipping here and there, and Harry never ceasing his gentle gestures. He patiently stayed by my side humming things that came to his mind. “I’m sorry,” I finally said after deciding that I was okay now. Harry snapped his head to my direction with furrowed eyebrows. Oh, how I want those lines to go away. “I’m sorry I forgot to eat. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry for getting mad at you, I was just really stressed. I know that’s not an excuse but–”

I was cut off by Harry engulfing me in a tight warm hug. “Shh, are you okay?” Were the first words that flew out of his mouth. He was so kind and it made me feel more guilty than I already am. “What matters is that you’re fine now and that I’m here to take care of you.” He kissed my head before pulling away and looking into my eyes. “You’re okay now, right?”

I nodded. “Do you still want to get some dinner or midnight snack?” I smiled at him.

“No, let’s stay here. I’ll cook us something to eat.” And finally, the dimple that I adored so much, made its appearance on his cheek. To be honest, I was really glad he didn’t want to go out because I still felt weak and I didn’t trust myself to walk, let alone stand up. “Do you wanna go up to your bed?”

I shook my head. “I like watching you cook.” And with that he stood up and started grabbing everything he needed, not before planting another kiss on my forehead.

I momentarily forgot about the school works that were silently calling for my attention from the living room. I’m too tired to go back and face them again, so I let my mind wander over to the curly haired boy in my kitchen who was shaking his bum and dancing to a tune only he could hear. I laughed at him and settled further into my seat with only one thought in my mind: I deserve this little break but I would probably regret this tomorrow.

It’s cool when you have friends you can elbow in the side (tao) or rock-paper-scissors into getting you soda (takeo–)


Since trying out for all of 2017 is “no weigh all year,” I have no idea about little fluctuations in my size. But, I could tell I got a bit bigger the first third (maybe half) of the year because I could no longer fit into a good deal of my jeans. And I put a big pile of them in the corner of my closet. Lately I’ve been noticing I can see my ab muscles again (oh hello, how I’ve missed you!!), so I tried on a pair of the too-tight jeans….and they fit!!! I tried them all on, and they all fit!!!!!!!! These past few months I also stopped tracking food, and fussing, and stopped IM. I increased my yoga practice and voila - yeah pants! Anyways, happy Friday!!!

Originally posted by sahvannahh

Okay but the gay feels when an attractive girl wears a crop top so short it shows the bottom of her bra and your like ‘damn she’s hot’ but you’re also like ‘stop objectifying her you’re not a sixteen year old boy’


You are the darkness inside me
The comforting inky black presence
That spreads out from my heart
Crawling down my arms, my legs
Oozing out my fingertips
Until you enshroud me completely

I become accustomed to your dark
I revel in its safety
Yet now you tear yourself from me
Wrenching yourself from my gut
Bile exits with you
I’m double over in agony
Vomiting the bits of my soul
That stubbornly cling to you
My insides ache
I’m missing pieces of organs
Chunks of muscle
Whole teeth that clung to you
As a last measure to stop your flight

There’s no more darkness now
I’m naked in the piercing, probing light
That unmerciful incandescence
I close my eyes to shut it out
Yet it still seeps in
Burning my broken insides
Hollowing me out
I’m a bloody shell
With no reason to live

So I scream for you
To come back to me
To fill me with your darkness once more
Or destroy me completely

written and submitted by @barefootneuroses

AU tag drop

anonymous asked:

Sole is slowly losing their voice and after a while, they become mute. Can you also add Maxson (if you want tho)

Well, it’s about five minutes to 9:00 which means I will be making that 12 hour deadline I set for myself by five minutes. Yay for procrastination!

So this one’s been sitting in my inbox for a while, and I loved it, so here we go! I did the reaction a little different this time. Everything is in first person relative to the companions, and all romancable (by my standard) companions automatically have romanced reactions. Not sure how much I like it, so I’ll probably go back to the old format. But hey, where’s the fun in sticking to a formula all the time?

I’ll add Maxson later for you anon! I just didn’t have the time to do it in one sitting.

Curie: “Oh Sole, I am so sorry. I wish there was more I could do, but I am afraid zhat I- I cannot- I- I,” Ergh, I cannot even finish my sentence! Stupid, stupid tears! And my hands cannot wipe them away fast enough. They just keep coming. I wish I couldn’t cry; It’s Sole who should be upset! Out  of everyone in zhe whole Commonwealth it should not have to be Sole who loses their voice.

Oh, now look, Sole is hugging me.

“Thank you Sole, but it should be me that is comforting you, no?” I feel their chin rub back and forth against zhe top of my scalp; they’re shaking their head no. I start smiling as I cry into their chest. Is zhis supposed to happen, do humans sometimes smile when zhey cry?

Sole pats me on the back while placing a gentle kiss on the top of my head, and I know just what zhey are saying, even without the words.

It’s okay Curie. It’s not your fault. You can’t fix everyone, and I still love you, no matter what.

“Thank you Sole. I love you too.”

Deacon: After all they’ve done for the Railroad, for me, only to find out that their son is the Father of the whole damn Institute. And then to kill them too? That’s gotta be harsh. In fact, I know it is. They… they haven’t talked to me… to anybody really, for days. It started with short, sweet answers, “yes,” “no,” etcetera, and Sole would only speak when spoken to. Then they stopped verbalizing altogether, and their responses were short, almost undetectable nods. And they haven’t even smiled in, what…


They’re sitting on their bed when I walk in, facing the wall, knees drawn in. Wow, those dark circles look rough. Have they even slept since the big bang? Wait, what? I’m uh, not… moving anymore, and I can’t seem to to get my legs working. C’mon Deacon, let’s go.

I give up on walking to watch them for a while instead, and I know they know I’m here. But then I’m there, holding them. Why are all my muscles quivering?

“Sole, I miss you. I understand, but I miss you. Come on back now, yeah? How about it pal? I can’t talk all the time you know, as unconvincing as that sounds.” So much for playing it cool. My voice is warbling in my throat, and I’m pretty sure those are Sole’s tears soaking through my t-shirt. I lean out of the hug to press my forehead against theirs. “I love you Sole, and I’ll wait for you, but please, please hurry.” And then I kiss them. What else can I do?

Cait: Oh shite, oh shite, this is serious! I just feel like- Augh! Ack! Ergh, it sounds like a knuckle cracked! Damn wall. Oh shite, Sole. I just…

Maybe Curie’s wrong. Maybe it isn’t actually permanent, but… it is some sort of miracle that kept Sole alive after that dog chewed their throat out. It’s been months though and Sole still isn’t able ta talk to me at all through those disgustin’ red welts across their neck. If I had just been payin’ more attention, I could’ve s-stopped it. I’m just- I’m just…

I’m just so scared of forgettin’ their voice. I already have hard time rememberin’ the way they used to say “I love you.” Oh… Oh no…

I bury my head in me hands and press down, hard. As long as I’m pressing against my eyes the tears won’t come out; Sole doesn’t need this right now. You’re always talkin’ yerself up Cait! C’mon and get together!

Here they come outta Curie’s little infirmary. The scars don’t look any better, and Curie seems like she’s about to spill some tears: Sole does too. I run up and grab them by the shoulders, starin’ straight into their eyes before crushin’ ‘em to me chest. If I can’t hear them anymore, I’ll make up for it by holding them as tight as I can.

“Oh Sole. Everythin’s gonna be just fine. I promise.”

Nick: “Oh darlin’, I’m so sorry.” I hold Sole’s face in my good hand, wiping away the tears from their cheek with my thumb. Today was the first day since the accident that Curie made them try to speak, but when Sole opened their mouth… there was nothing. Nothing at all. I wish I could forget the look of absolute despair on Sole’s face. I wish they could forget about it too.

They’re still weeping, silently, into my palm, but now they’ve stopped to look up at me. Rapidly blinking the tears away, they start motioning with their hands in a zig-zagging fashion.

“Ah, you wanna notepad kid?”

They nod silently, and I notice their trembling lips.

“Here ya go sweetheart.” I hand them the paper notepad and a pencil to write with. They furiously scribble a message down. When they hand it to me I notice the smudge puddles from where Sole’s tears had dripped onto the paper.

I miss singing with you .It read.

“C’mere.” I tell them, and they collapse into my chest. I wrap my jacket around them, holding them, and hum one of their favorite tunes. Maybe we can’t sing together anymore, but don’t worry Sole, I love you, and I’ll sing enough for the both of us.

Danse: “He was a good hound soldier.” The comment doesn’t really seem to affect Sole. This is the fourth month they’ve come to visit Dogmeat’s grave, and they haven’t spoken a word since the burial. I ran a hand through my hair; I’m not entirely sure how to deal with the situation. It would be best to just talk it out, but Sole insists on bottling everything in, and that’s not healthy. Believe me, I’ve seen plenty of fresh-faced squires do the same thing.

“You’ll have to talk to someone about it sooner or later Sole. Why not just go ahead and talk to me, please. “I implore them to give up their vow of silence, but they just stare at me vacantly.

But now they’re leaning their face into my chest. I sigh, but don’t hesitate to put my arms around them.

“I understand Sole. Really, I do. I just don’t want you to tear yourself apart on the inside for too long because… I’m afraid it won’t be the old Sole that comes back, the Sole I fell in love with.”

I feel them nod into my shirt, and then I kiss their hair because I know they love that, and because I want them to know that I love them, no matter what.

X6-88: “Sir/ma’am, I understand your distress, but this has gone on for months. Don’t you think it’s time to start talking again?” I’m sitting across from Sole, watching them through my sunglasses. They’re looking at me too, but I’m convinced that, for the most part, they aren’t present. Sole consistently refuses to tell me why they’re doing this, and I’ve given up on trying to figure it out. I’ve just had to accept the fact that they’re grieving.

When did their hands move to my face? Fingers wrap around my glasses, and I let Sole slide the shades off of my nose. Now there’s nothing between us; I feel exposed. Maybe that’s why I say what I do,

“I miss you. It’s time to come back.”

They nod slowly, agreeing, even though no words come out of their mouth. I’m not usually the affectionate type, but I feel like it needs to be done. I take their hands and hold them. They look both relieved and confused, then mutter out a small, “Okay.”

Am I… smiling?

MacCready: Irreparable damage.

That’s what Curie’s report said anyway. I mean wh- what hell! Can’t she at least try! Ugh! I pull at my hair and use the pain to try and distract myself. I can hear choked breathing coming from the other room; Sole is crying. I’m pacing and feel absolutely useless! I have to bite my fist to keep from sending everything on the dining room table right through the window.

Finally everything boiled over inside me, so I marched straight into Sole’s bedroom and picked them up from the bed, just loving the feeling of holding them in my arms. I press my face into their shoulder as hard as I can stand, and I let them sob into mine.

“I love you Sole. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry this happened, and I wish I could do something to help. Oh my g- Sole. It-It’s gonna be okay. I promise. I promise.”

I pull back, grab their face, and kiss them hard, harder than I ever have before. I’m going to convince them everything will be alright, and then I’m going to make it that way. For Sole.

Hancock: “C-c’mon Sole, you’re killin’ me here. Just talk to me.” I pleaded. Hell, I’ve even begged. I understand Sole is grieving, but it’s been so long, and all I want is to hear their voice. Maybe it’s selfish, but, damn, I’d sell out Goodneighbor to hear them laugh again.

They’re giving me a hurt look, and now I feel awful, watching their eyes spill over with tears. Their mouth gapes open for a few seconds, but no words come out. I understand perfectly though; they’re trying to apologize: typical Sole.

“I’m sorry sunshine. Forget what I said okay, no need to apologize. You’re hurt, so take your time healing. Hey now, don’t cry sweetheart! Come here.”

I pull them into a hug because I know it comforts them. Not to brag or anything, but they even told me once that it makes them feel safe when I hold them, and I think feeling safe is what they need now more than anything. I’ll be sure to provide it for them in spades.

Piper: “Oh Blue, oh blue I’m so sorry.” I can’t believe it. Never hearing Blue talk again, ever. They don’t deserve something like this. All they’ve ever done for the Commonwealth is make it an easier place to live in, and how does it repay them? It takes their voice. Typical. Too bad no one, not even a great reporter like myself, can bring the cosmic forces of karma to justice.

“Well, at least if you had to be paired with someone, it’s the only person in the Commonwealth that can make up both sides of a conversation. Heh.” Sole gives me a half-hearted smile. “See! That’s the spirit! Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor Sole.”

All joking aside, I am really proud of Sole and their un-crushable spirit, so I smile too, and lean forward to give Sole a quick kiss. “Love you Sole.”

Preston: Ever since Curie broke the news to Sole, I’ve been sitting here with them all day. They’re taking it really hard, and if I’m being honest… I am too. I loved hearing Sole wake me up in the morning with an “I love you,” and the way they laughed when Dogmeat played with the kids, and to know that I’ll never hear those things again…

No, I can’t think about that. Sole needs me now.

“You know I love you, right Sole? You’re gonna make it through this. You’re such a strong person, to make it out of the Vault, to lead the Minutemen. You’ll make it.” I squeezed them a bit harder to my side, reassuring them.

I feel their fingers lace together with mine, and I look over to kiss Sole on the lips. I intended for a sweet, simple kiss to comfort them, but Sole lingers, and I am more than happy to stay there with them. Whatever they need, I’m here, and I let them know that every day.

Dogmeat: Master hasn’t talked to me in a while, which is strange. They always tell me they love me when they pat my tummy, in that funny, squeaky voice. Now they just smile when they pet me, although sometimes they cry too. I can tell that something is wrong; dogs are good at that kind of thing, didn’tcha know? I don’t know what’s hurt my human so much, but I make sure to give them extra kisses and extra cuddles now. I think they need it, and I hope that they understand just how much I love them, even if they don’t say they love me back.

Codsworth: I know it doesn’t help much, but caretaking is what I was programmed to do. Today I’ve flitted to and fro about Sole after hearing the news about their… injury. In hindsight, perhaps keeping them home today to recuperate was not the best choice. All they’ve done is stew in their misery, and who can blame them?

“Sir/mum, I’m so sorry. I-I shouldn’t have kept you here today. Perhaps a day full of distractions was just what the doctor ordered.”

Sole looks at me with pity, hah! Me, pity! I should be giving them pity. How mysteriously this world does work.

“Don’t look so down sir/mum. Come on! I bet the local pub already has a drink poured for you!”

Ah, there’s that smile! I guess after 200 years I still haven’t lost my touch, and what better way to use it than to brighten up Sole’s day.

Strong: “Strong not understand why human stop talking. Seem stupid to Strong. How we communicate in battle when you no talk?”

Human gives me a funny look, not one Strong usually see on them.  Whatever. If human want to be quiet then Strong not care. Human tough enough without voice, can scare enemy with just looks.