#no drinking squad

[muffinsin]

hey can we get headcanons for the girls and maybe donna for an s/o that doesn’t drink? (#sobergang) the girls’ whole livelihood is on the vineyards and wine business, so i feel like it’d be

“oh no thanks, I dont drink.”

“oh its okay there isnt any blood in this wine its safe for you :)”

“no… babe I dont drink”

:0 *shocked pikachu face*

and for donna im leaning into fanon she’s italian and wine is big in their culture

Absolutely! Awhh, our darling Donna in here, too! :)

Let’s get into it🙌

[Hey everyone! We’re getting closer to 700 followers each day, and I’d appreciate everyone trying to help get me there :) comments, shoutouts, reblogs, liking posts and such are therefore ofc very welcomed :) a big thank you to everyone helping out in advance]

Masterlists

Bela

Now, Bela is by far not an alcoholic

And despite how she practically worships her mother and attempts to be just like her, she doesn’t drink nearly as much wine as her

That being said, though, she drinks the most out of the three sisters

Unlike Cassandra and Daniela, she doesn’t drink it purely for the blood, either

She genuinely enjoys the taste of it

Her family being the one to produce the many different bottles and flavours of wine, she’s quite proud of their unique tastes, too

They have the sweetest of wines and those containing blood, rare, expensive wine and one that is more affordable, yet earns them a more stable income

At work, she usually has a glass of wine with her, tainted with blood

The blood helps her concentrate

The wine helps her keep her calm around the incapable fools around her

Mother wouldn’t approve if she slaughtered them all for their stupidity…

Another glass is served to her at breakfast, though it yet again serves rather to strengthen her, and as an alternative to drinking straight from someone’s neck

On some lucky days, you allow her to do just that, too though

To curl up with you, to mount you and grind down on you while she feeds, to moan at the delicious taste of your blood as it hits her throat

You feel dizzy each time, but never bad, and she always cares for you after

Lunch is shared by the two of you only

Sometimes in her office, at other times in her room or in the castle gardens, should the weather allow it

Today, you’re in luck

You sit out by the gardens, surrounded by the beautiful flowers and their refreshing smell

Bela has her usual glass of wine, whereas you occasionally sip from a glass of water- cleaner than all the water at the village, certainly- as you talk

You love this part of the day

You get to tell her about your day, she tells you of hers

It’s just the two of you, no worries can reach you

You watch as she drinks, still talking and telling her about a story you picked up among the maids today

Some newcomer or so, nothing too interesting to Bela, but you appreciate that she’s still listening to all the gossip you have to share with her

And even as you talk, your eyes are fixated upon her lips

The glass touches them gently, the soft things set on its rim as wine is poured into her mouth

Some escapes her and briefly passes her lips, but she pulls the glass away and her tongue darts out fast, catching the lost drop

You don’t even notice that you’ve been staring, nor that you’ve stopped talking

“Would you like some, draga?”, she asks, then, her arm outstretched so the half-drunken glass is right by your face

This close you can smell its sweetness

You almost chuckle. Bela has always liked sweet wine, the fruity flavor, the elegance of it

You shake your head at her offer, though

“Oh, no thank you, darling. I don’t drink”, you refuse politely

For a moment, she sends you a confused look

You watch her sniff the wine first, then take another sip, before the glass is held out for you again

“It’s the regular kind. I promise, there’s no blood in it”, she hums, then

You can’t help but chuckle lightly, even as you feel your face flush with warmth

You explain, you don’t drink

“At all?”, is her first reaction

You almost giggle again

For someone so smart, so experienced even, her question is adorably naive

Upon hearing your answer, she’s visibly shocked

She isn’t upset by any means, she’s just- surprised

Her family’s wine is a delicacy, especially in the village. A privilege. It’s very uncommon for someone to not jump at the opportunity to drink it

She sips from her glass again, and you practically see the gears turning in her head

She realises- she has never seen you drink any of her wine before, nor any other type of alcohol

When you pick up the conversation with more gossip around the castle, it’s like the entire interaction didn’t happen

You don’t bring it up again, nor does she

Still, the next day, at your lunch date, you notice she has a glass of wine, and a glass of water

With a smile, she offers it to you

“Would you like some, draga?”

You giggle. How could you refuse?

Cassandra

Cassandra isn’t the biggest fan of wine

Sure, she’ll have it, but it barely has any effect on her. She’s mostly in it for the blood

Sometimes, you find her drink wine randomly just like it’s water

She doesn’t seem to mind and it has no effect on her at all, aside from a small speed and strength boost the blood seems to offer her temporarily

Due to the fact she only drinks wine with blood in it, though, she has never offered you any

This changes when, one day, the two of you stop by the kitchens on the way to the basement

It’s not unusual by any means. Cassandra loves to pick up some snacks beforehand

Especially when she plans on taking you to her laboratory, her own little room in the castle’s basements

Sometimes, you allow her to take you out on a date there

While you occasionally hear a prisoner’s screams, the privacy the two of you share down there is beautiful

Her sisters can’t interrupt you, no worries can reach you

It’s her own little sanctuary, and she chooses to share it with you

It’s an honor

This time, she slips a bottle of wine with her, whereas you take some bread and the raw, chopped meat she likes so very much

And she does, popping one in her mouth every once in a while as she listens to you

She loves this!

Today, especially, as she sits as if enthralled, listening to you talk about blades and demonstrating their uses, counting the pros and cons to each

Clearly, the research you’ve done to impress her has paid off

You know, she’s considered getting a new blade after all, despite not being sure which one just yet

Your vast knowledge and list of swords, daggers, axes, maces, even bows has her intruiged

As she watches you, she takes a few sips from the wine bottle set on the table with you

She hums at the taste before popping another meat cube in her mouth

Not bad at all, certainly, though she finds it lacks the flavor of blood

As you keep talking, and she keeps drinking, she eventually offers the glass to you

You shake your head, getting out a quick “No thank you” before your rant about blades from medieval times continues on

She tilts her head a little at you

Waiting for you to finish your sentence, she holds up the wine glass again

“There’s no blood in it, I made sure”

Her sweetness strikes you for a moment. And still, it doesn’t quite tempt you into drinking

“Oh, I don’t drink”, you clarify instead

Her eyes are set on you

“At all?”, she asks

You nod

She shrugs, then; “Okay”

You watch her as she gets up wordlessly, setting the bottle aside by another table

She downs the glass in one go, then- to your surprise- retrieves water

Never have you seen her drink that before

When she sits again, she gestures for you to continue

Still, your rant is quickly interrupted by your giggles when she takes a sip

Her face turns sour, a mix of a frown and pout on it as she spits the water back in the glass and sticks her tongue out

“This has no flavor at all!”, she complains, throwing another meat cube in her mouth

You can’t help but laugh at her

Again, your rant it interrupted for a moment, and you laugh loudly when she swarms off and returns with the glass filled with fresh blood

To each their own, you suppose

Daniela

She likes to drink wine, really, having somewhat grown up with it

Ever since reaching a stage in her life in which she could control herself- her blood lust, her feelings, her emotions- easily, she was allowed to taste not only the blood of servants and prey, but also the finer taste of her family’s rich and infamous bottle: sanguis virginis

From then on, Daniela’s been somewhat addicted to the sweetness it adds to the blood

She wishes it wouldn’t come with the price of killing the blood’s host

You’d make such a fine bottle…

But even so, Daniela has appreciated the many flavors of the many different bottles of wine her family produces

While she never has too much-

not that it would matter, seeing as wine barely has any effect on her anyway

- she likes to sip from a glass of rich wine from time to time when she reads

She finds it gives her class, and keeps her throat nice, warm and most of all; not dry

You’re sure this prevents many from being slaughtered by her

This being said, Daniela is always quick to offer you a taste, too

She wants to share with you, after all

And still, she doesn’t feel upset when you decline her offer

Despite her rather energetic, delusional and eager personality, Daniela would never push you when you’re feeling uncomfortable about something

Besides, she isn’t overly in tune with what humans may and may not eat and drink

She trusts your judgement

More for her, she supposes

She never really paid much mind to it, to the fact you’re not drinking. Even she doesn’t drink when she isn’t in the mood for it

Then, one day, it seems it’s revealed to her

You’re in bed with her, curled up in the sheets together

Your neck is aching, throbbing where her sharp teeth dug in mere minutes ago

She’s licked all the blood from you and is now curled up at your side, clutching your arm

Her flies buzz calmly, so much so it nearly sounds like she’s purring contentedly

You feel so happy, so calm

And still, her wet lips and the memory of her drinking from you has you feel somewhat guilty

Her family’s business is wine..she likes wine…and yet you haven’t as much as tasted it once

And the worst of it, to you?

She doesn’t even know…

“Dani?”

She hums in return, but when no answer follows, sits up slightly to look at you, despite her comfortable place at your neck

You decide, if somewhat spontaneous, you must tell her

“I don’t drink”, you whisper

She frowns in confusion

Then, she giggles, her nose scrunching up so adorably, you can’t help but smile

“You can’t drink my blood, silly”, she giggles

You almost whimper. No, that wasn’t what you meant

“No, love”, you coo

You explain again, this time she seems to understand a

And yet- she doesn’t get angry at all, or sad. She simply doesn’t understand why it bothers you

“Don’t worry, Cassie doesn’t drink either!”, she insists

You wonder if she lies to make you feel better or because she genuinely believes her older sister doesn’t drink aside from the blood wine that strengthens them all

Either way, though, it can’t help but make you feel better

You squeeze her tight, chuckling when she buries her face back in your neck

You love her so incredibly much

Donna

You don’t see her drink much outside of mealtimes, really

Therefore, you wouldn’t call her much of a drinker, much less an alcoholic

Though, you know wine is a part of her culture and something she generally enjoys, given the right time and combination with something else

She loves her usual with her meals, or mixed into some of it

It’s somewhat rare she uses it in her cooking, though, often opting for having it herself only

If you didn’t know better, you’d think she knows you don’t drink and isn’t sure whether this applies to wine used in cooking, too

If only you knew..

Of course, she picked up on it early on

Being quiet and having quite many dolls set up to give her multiple perspectives, Donna is not only great at reading people, but is very perceptive too

Now, she doesn’t know for sure, of course

She only knows she hasn’t ever seen you drink before, at any occasion

At the same time you’ve never actively said a thing, and have never asked her not to drink

This leaves her a little confused, admittedly, but just in case, she doesn’t add any alcohol to your drinks or meals

You haven’t quite picked up on that yet, or at the very least haven’t connected the dots just yet

You feel a little nervous though, not drinking when you know she enjoys herself a glass-

or even two, if she’s in the right mood

- at dinner

Today, it’s no different, when the two of you sit comfortably at the dining table

With Angie off to the side playing with some of the other dolls, you at last have Donna all to herself

You grin happily as she talks, her voice raspy and quiet from her lack of use to it, but slowly becoming more confident each day

As she talks, she occasionally tips the glass of wine to her lips

You envy the drops of wine making their way past her soft, bitten lips and inside her mouth

The food the two of you share is warm and comforting

She talks of how it reminds her of home, and you can’t help but think how nice it is to share a home with her, now

To be her home

With her glass set back on the table, she reaches across to hold your hand

You feel her squeeze it and give her softer, skilled hand a gentle squeeze back

Her voice, though soft and low, catches you a little off guard

“There is something I have been wanting to ask you, fiore, if now is a good time?”

You hum, then nod at her, then, because you can’t help yourself, add a verbal answer as well

“Of course, my love”

She looks as though she’s pondering on how to phrase her upcoming question, her dark eye set on the table, then flickering back to your face

“I’ve been curious; do you not enjoy the wine I serve with the food? I assure you, it’s one of Alcina’s best, and I can assure you there’s no blood in it”

You’re not entirely sure what to say at first

“Well?”, Angie pipes in, her shrill voice a sharp contrast to Donna’s

You jump at her voice, then giggle a little when Donna gently shushes the doll

You know, she doesn’t mean to rush you. Her body language and silence imply patience

You automatically squeeze her hand again, feeling your body heat up a little

“It’s not that I don’t enjoy your wine or cooking!”, you quickly reassure her

Then, when no answer comes from her, you reveal;

“I just, don’t think”, you whisper

You don’t expect her to be mad. You know she wouldn’t, won’t, be

You just don’t want her to think you don’t like her wine, specifically

As always, she understands, though

She sends you a soft smile

“Would you like to try some juice, then? The berries from the garden will soon be ready for harvesting”

Your wide smile matches hers

“I would love that”

[draw-the-squad-like-this]

Draw your characters like this

[suntails]

🐙⚔️

[daddiesdrarryy]

Draco: It’s a new year, guys, I’m sorry to everyone who dealt with my Potter obsession last year!

Draco: I promise it is going to be much, much worse this year

Pansy: …

[fireheartpages]

other plans | b.d.

bodhi durran x reader part one. two. three. four. five. summary: everyone has their demons, you just chose to run from yours. straight to basgiath war college. and definitely not towards the grinning tall, dark, and handsome marked rider that seemed too kind to be in a hardened place like the rider's quadrant. word count: 2.1k ish notes: second person pov but i give the reader a nickname (that i stole from dirty dancing) and a last name bc i'm not using y/n and i want this to be readable. she/her pronouns used for reader. this has been stuck in my head and i thought i was gonna combust if i didn't get it on page. and it's all together hovering somewhere around 7k words so im gonna split it up and post it all within the next few days and then have the whole thing available on ao3! i haven't written fanfiction in at least a good six months, and i've never written for fourth wing, so bare with me a little--i tried my best. i have a chronic attachment to side characters with little to no page time. half of this was written while wine tipsy and all of it was proofread while wine drunk, so we die like men

Bodhi has never seen someone walk across the parapet so easily.

He's never seen someone make a dance out of it. As if it were a show, a production. Your feet are so confident, so sure with every step, every placement that you would make it to the next. It's pouring rain and windy as all hell, and yet you make the parapet look like a children's balance beam.

You land right in front of him, and by the time your eyes meet his, he's already decided that he needs to know everything he possibly can about you. The instant your focus lands on him, he's obsessed.

Garrick has other plans.

"Name?"

"Baby," you say, and Bodhi blinks. "Marho."

Garrick is downright gawking at you. "Baby?"

Something that sounds much more like a name and not what an infant is called slips out on a laugh, and Bodhi can't help but trace the lean lines of your neck. Holy shit. If he thought you were pretty before, it was dwarfed to the sound of your laugh. The sun had to fight for space when you smiled.

"Sorry. Childhood nickname, I forget I have another one sometimes."

"Did your parents nickname you after a hooker?" Garrick asks, jotting your name--the true one--on the roll.

"Did yours raise you to be a dick?" you ask, not missing a beat, and the boy's gaze snaps up to you. If Bodhi had been looking anywhere else, his would have too, but he hadn't taken his eyes off of you since the moment you stepped foot onto the parapet. He felt his brow shoot up, lips parting on a huff.

He bursts out laughing.

You don't move. Don't take your eyes from Garrick, from staring him down, until he tips his head in inclination and gives something that sounds like an apology. It's Bodhi's turn to be the subject of your scrutiny now, and as your eyes trace his shape, shifting with the weight of your gaze and his laugh, he senses more than sees the moment you note his rebellion relic. Your face doesn't shift, but it's as if a proverbial file is created and tucked away into the archive of your mind.

You didn't say anything else as you walk away from the two boys, but Bodhi tracks you as you go. Tracks your movements, as you weave through the crowd with a practiced grace, how your hair moves as you take the stairs down and out of his sight.

He's almost sorry to see you go. But he's determined to see you again.

Bodhi snatches the roll sheet from Garrick as parapet comes to an end, scanning to make sure he has the name correct. He marches up to Xaden, and only pausing for a moment to consider how stupid this is--he literally doesn't know a single thing about you--before throwing your name into the space between them.

"I want her in my section."

"Don't you have better things to do than flirt with children?" Xaden asks impassively.

"She's not a literal baby."

"I'm aware of that," he responds, sounding exasperated. "You're an Executive Officer, Bodhi. Do what you want."

Except Dain Aetos has other plans.

You made friends. You stand with the Sorrengail girl and another he didn't recognize, tucking loose strands of hair back into her coronet braid. What type of person fixed the hair of someone they'd just met? You, apparently.

You're in Second Wing. With Aetos and Sorrengial and the other girl. This is fine. Something about you didn't scream "secret rebel" the way wanted it too.

And then Xaden transfers your squad to Fourth Wing. He had sent Bodhi a glance as he put the squad in Flame section--not Tail--and Bodhi could see there was some sort of ulterior motive behind the decision. It did also mean you weren't under his direct chain of command. He couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing

Fraternization is frowned upon, not forbidden, after all.

Not that you would be fraternizing. After all.

But, challenging you would be a terrible idea. Terribly adverse, fatally cataclysmic, and ill-fated.

And all of those words mean the same thing.

He would stay clear, watch you from afar, and maybe, maybe work up the courage to talk to you outside of parapet. Possibly.

His confidence needed some serious shaping. Since when was he afraid to talk to someone? A pretty someone, to say the least. He was a gods damned dragon rider. He wasn't afraid to talk to you. He was just... hesitant.

Yeah. That. And he did not need a challenge to break the ice.

Emetterio has other ideas.

He calls your name, then Bodhi's, and Bodhi is pretty sure his heart stops in his chest.

You don't look frazzled or scared, just curious as you study him from head to toe. He guards himself as if you were an intruder in his mind, an Inntinnsic slipping in to spill all his secrets. Except you're an unbounded first year that hasn't even developed a signet, and instead that's just you. He's building up walls just to look at you. You and those bright, keen eyes.

Emetterio calls it, and you're off. Except neither of you move. You pace around, and it's a stand off. You cock your head, and Bodhi tries every trick in the book: the fakes out, glances quickly off to the side, purposefully stumbles--and you're unfazed. Completely and utterly unfazed.

He can't make the first move. He can't hit you--

Suddenly, his feet are out from under him, and he's staring at the ceiling, and you lunge, reaching to pin him to the floor. He reaches out and catches the elbow you throw, but before he can even make contact, you twist, sliding underneath him, and suddenly you're behind him.

You're fast. Really fucking fast. And suddenly, Bodhi has his work cut out for him.

You kick out again, going to the back of his knees, and he recognizes the move, thrusting his body forward to keep control and twisting before he lands, kipping up so you're eye-level again.

Your first catches his nose, and blood goes flying. He makes the mistake of bringing his hands up to cup his nose and it leaves his core exposed. You take the opportunity to land a knee in his gut, probably bruising a few ribs in there, and he doubles over, the wind having been knocked from him. Holy shit, he needs to get at least one hit in. This was getting embarrassing.

He swings blindly, and you dodge--but you don't grab his fist. And you had the perfect opportunity to. You were fast, and your reflexes were quick, but you didn't know how to end this. The realization crashes into him as you swing again. A lot of force, but no follow-though, giving him the perfect opportunity to deflect, pushing your fist and forcing the follow-through until you were swinging behind him with his hand around your wrist and then he was bringing you to him, one of his arms gripping one of yours across your neck, and the other twisting your other behind your back. Like this, your body was flush against his.

You struggle, kicking out, but it was all too easy for him to get your feet out from under you. You weren't small by any means, but Bodhi was bigger, and had a year of training over you. Your feet kicked out, and all he had to do was lean back to incapacitate you. You gave a frustrated grunt that so heavily affected him that he almost dropped you to make sure you were okay before he realized where he was and what he was doing.

"Finish her without making a fool of yourself, please," Cuir chimes in, probably sensing his hesitation and near-miss, and Bodhi sends an eye roll he hopes she can feel, since he doesn't have the brain space to say anything back, with your body pressed against his and the current task at hand.

He twists and take you both to the ground, pinning both your hands above your head, and taking a leg beneath his foot, balancing on a knee. You let out a sharp huff, and he's mesmerized by the way your nose scrunches up in determination. Your free leg goes to knee him, and he takes the hit, leaning into it before transferring your hands so they're both pinned between one of his, sliding one hand down your hip and to your thigh, holding it to the gourd before you can knee him again. He has a free knee to hold him up, but not without giving leverage to one of your legs. So he's pressed against you, hip to hip, face to face.

"Yield," he says, begs, because he can't hold this for long, and because if you figure out just how much you affect him, you'd win this thing in a matter of heartbeats.

"No," you grind out, thrashing. He's spread thin: his wingspan practically encompassing your body, giving you leverage to wear against him. He worries for a moment, a flash of the bruise he could leave on your thigh going through his mind, and two thoughts overtake him at once.

One, that he doesn't want to hurt you. And that while it may be inevitable with where you two stood, he wanted to try and eliminate the possibility as best he could.

Two, that he would leave bruises all up and down your thighs if he ever got the chance to get between them.

And the combination of the two of those thoughts loosened his grip on you, giving you the opportunity to roll away.

"I did not choose someone this negligent," Cuir snaps, and Bodhi panicks, and now you're pinned underneath him again, his front pressed to your backside, and it's a true plea when he breathes, "Yield."

"No!" You squirm, and fuck stop doing that--

"Get yourself together!" Cuir snaps, and Bodhi sucks in a sharp breath.

"That's enough," Emetterio says, pinning you with a look Bodhi would pick dragon fire over. "Know when to quit, Cadet Marho."

"No!" you yelp. "If this were a real fight, no one is calling the shots--"

"If this was a real fight, you'd be dead. I called it. Get off the mat," Emetterio snaps, and Bodhi scrambles off of you.

He offered you a hand that you send a pointed look at, and he can tell you're considering telling him where to shove it, but you take it anyway, and he walks you off the mat with a hand on your shoulder.

"Good match," Bodhi says, genuinely trying.

You open your mouth to respond, looking like you yourself could spit fire for a second, and Bodhi pities the dragon you end up bonded to for a moment.

"You're fast," he continues, before you can. "Quick reflexes, and you're strong."

"I had you," you throw at him, fiery and determined, and your gaze slips to his rebellion relic.

Oh. So that's what this is about.

Bodhi shakes his head, and the grin that had been blooming falters. "I can help," he says. "If you're struggling with sparring, I can help."

You suck in a breath.

"Or Imogen. Or Xaden. Or--" he stops, because, fuck, obviously you don't want to be near Marked ones--

"Thank you," you say, and the ghost of the smile he saw after the parapet makes a reappearance. "Thank you."

And with that, you turn and leave, heading back to your squad. Rhiannon is shaking her head at you, and Violet mumbles something that makes you laugh. Bodhi would bottle that sound if he could. What the hell was a counter signet for? His signet should be used for bottling the sound of your laugh--

"Do not finish that thought," Cuir chides. "Get a grip."

Bodhi grins, his hair falling over his temple as Garrick comes up and slaps him on the back, congratulations on a challenge well fought. He watches you take a swig from the water canteen, traces the lines of your jaw down to your shoulder until you hand it back, then traces the length of your wrist as you hand it--

"Pathetic." Cuir. "You haven't spoken."

"We kind of did," Bodhi says mentally. "I offered. I... tried."

"If you like her, try harder," she chides, and Bodhi sighs.

He doesn't like you, he barely knows you.

"Sure."

[iheartlosergirlz]

all other answers are void, i’ve decided they queen out

(commissioned by @groovebunker for @bobbiflekmann)

[blazingstar29]

okay but say someone did manage to get a lock on maverick and the two hundred push bet still stood and all the daggers gather around to watch his punishment. except for the fact that for all his life, Maverick's been using his body as a vessel to fly in. His fitness is so important to him from aesthetics and functionality. So they watch this guy who's pushing sixty smash out two hundred push ups easy peasy

[monocuri]

Tell me why Lucy and her three suitors are so wholesome. The two guys got rejected but still want to celebrate their friend’s engagement to Lucy that’s so cute of them

[girlnextvore]

Giving scores to the 4 most common places to feed from as a vampire on a human body

[sage-nebula]

The wisps were just trying to be helpful.

[acocktailmoment]

Mexican Firing Squad !

2 oz. tequila

0.75 oz. lime juice

0.75 oz. grenadine

2 dashes Angostura Bitters

Add all ingredients to a cocktail shaker with ice and shake hard for six to eight seconds. Strain into a rocks glass over fresh ice and garnish with a lime wheel, or if you’re feeling festive and want to do it as Baker suggests, “garnish with a slice of orange, a slice of pineapple, and a red cherry.”

This article was not sponsored or supported by a third-party. A Cocktail Moment is not affiliated with any individuals or companies depicted here.

[vaguely-concerned]

I think rye thinks it's incredibly adorable of davrin to be worried about him after the accidental hallucination tea experiment. that stoic option 'you know, I lived a whole life before you' contains a world of 'davrin, I'm a mourn watcher with a severely misspent youth behind me. I've been stratospherically high on things you couldn't and probably wouldn't want to imagine, this is barely a tickle'. to me.

[draw-the-squad-like-this]

Draw your squad like this

The image is from jjba Part 4-! [ from @d-alva45 ]

[isurrendertoclones]

Scorch-related rant:

Ok. Make it make sense.

They re-canonize all of Delta Squad (for 0.5 milliseconds, not even establishing their personalities or anything)

Scorch reappears after Order 66. Only Scorch, and he’s confirmed both in and out of universe as Scorch.

None of the other Deltas are even mentioned

Scorch is completely stripped of personality and turned into an almost-mindless attack dog (I mean it’s Scorch!!!)

He’s then thrown unceremoniously off a cliff

Like…why??? There were over 10,000 commandos in the EU. Why Scorch? Why not just make up one of the ~9950 who aren’t named???

Why Scorch?

(And then Scorch’s jetpack activated and he flew away to safety, shooting Hemlock on the way down!)

[the-bi-space-ace]

I was trying to find a way for Hunter to take his shirt off in a way that felt natural during a scene I’m writing and my partner suggested that Hunter could be that guy that just gets really hot and takes his shirt off randomly and now I can’t stop picturing Hunter mid conversation taking his shirt off and everyone being like 👁️👁️ and then carrying on like he isn’t nips out

[brewed-pangolin]

Goddammit...

I'm just a dumb horse that's been lead to the water. And apparently I'm very thirsty.