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text overlaid atop the dragon age logo that reads “rocatanskies has fantastic OCs and is a delight to talk to. They are always incredibly supportive of others in the community and make the fandom a nice place to be.
6, 14, 29, 38 for my boy Joel!
yall love my boy joel. i do too
6. What’s your OC’s favorite animal? Least favorite?
he really likes mice the best! you can have those as pets. little tiny animals are his weakness.
least favourite? hm. i dont think he likes anything big and dangerous. bears, lions, tigers, all that sort of thing.
14. What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?
joel has some difficulty with food. his disgust for his own body and self ruins his appetite so he doesn’t eat much. his favourite food is pancakes though! and he likes the odd spot of fruit here and there.
least favourite? probably seafood.
29. If they could choose their epitaph for their grave, what would they choose?
i dont think itd be anything special, if he was the one who picked. hell, he would even be keen on having his name on a grave. he regards his family as much better people than he, and they got unmarked graves.
38. What would your character do with a million dollars?
i dont think he’d spend much of it on himself. he might get himself a nice bow, or fix up his prosthetic some way. but he’d rather use it to help people, specially less fortunate kids. then of course, if Mariya wanted any of it to spend on herself, he would happily give it to her.
Fluff 15 for a character of your choice because I just want you to write lmao
15 - “She’s/he’s not my boyfriend!”
“So... Boss, are uhh... youse guys like... a thing?”
The question comes out of seemingly nowhere. Guzma grins wickedly at the Grunt asking, the arm around your shoulders tightening just a little. But your cheeks are on fire. Sheepishly, you duck out from his intimate embrace and move out of arm’s reach. Guzma’s expression quickly becomes flabbergasted.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you reply sharply, and fold your arms across your chest. The Grunt looks distinctly discomfited, his eyes flicking from you to the Boss and back again.
“Oh, is that so?” Guzma retorts, saddling you with that same wicked smirk. Your heart flutters in your chest despite your embarrassment. No, don’t do this...
“Yeah, it is!”
“That’s not what you were sayin’ last night, baby,” he says, moving towards you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His fingers catch the sides of your hips and he pulls you into his arms. Your face is redder than a Flareon’s backside, but he presses a little kiss to your neck regardless. “Yanno, when ya boy had his head between your -- “
With an enraged and embarrassed squeak, you slap your hand over his mouth, effectively silencing the rest of his sentence. He chuckles against your palm, and the Grunt scampers away while he has the opportunity.
“Guzma!” Indignant and horrified, you lower the hand covering his mouth and fold your arms over your chest. “What the fuck?”
“Ey, relax, babe,” he murmurs, pulling you deeper into his embrace. “Ain’t nobody gonna say a thing about the Boss or his fave...” He kisses your neck again, chuckling, and you melt against him. “Now that’s outta the way, whaddya say we find some privacy, hm? Ya boyfriend’s feelin’ a little hurt by that, babe, and you gotta make it up to him...”
“...You’re awful.”
“Baddest in Alola, sweetness.”
I know that in the comic itself it says that the Gentry are vain as vats around the English students of Elsewhere U, but what happens when the English majors DO charm them?
They charm them pretty easily, all the time - if you can quote a nice bit of relevant poetry and string together a few pleasingly falttering metaphors you’ll have a freaky freaky five-eyes stilt-creature following you around preening by the end of the week. I imagine they bring you favors the way cats do, i.e. dead birds they thought you’d like the plumage on. If they are very, very charmed, however, you run the risk of spirited away and doted on, which sounds nice until they either get tired of you and release you into the Elsewhere wilds, or refuse to let you go.
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Yo.
sup
Someone had to do it: FENRIS.
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Your never-ending and all-consuming hatred of Todd Howard is what gets me out of bed in the morning.
Funnily enough it’s also my never-ending and all-consuming hatred of Todd Howard that is what gets me out of bed in the morning