umno-yeah

[umno-yeah]

Werewolf cowboy it's literally my vet student ass wet dream. Idk if it's bc my forte is cows (and dogs, so like, great combo), and I'm a nerd for them but he's like, my perfect fantasy. He scratches a very specific and technical part of my brain 😭😭😭

Sexy werewolf in a hat, strong and dependable it's hoooot already, but a cowboy??? Who probably bottle feeds the weak cattle that was rejected by its own mother, because he knows he won't make it without colostrum (the first hours of feeding are crucial bc cattle are born without an immune system, and after a time frame their stomach "closes" and they won't be able to take the defenses coming from mom's milk— see, very specific scratch to my brain). And probably he plays around with the bulls, who really are like giant puppies with horns in the proper environment, without stress and properly cared for, because bulls can get really clingy and pet demanding?????

The contrast between horny beast and sweet ranch boy has me foaming in the mouth and rubbing my hands like a fly. Any time you post something about him I'm like, yeah, crumbs and I devour them like a starved woman.

Lmaoooo you got me deranged for a fictional man, I love you so much 😭😭😭😭

He's the literal guard dog of the herd. he patrols the perimeter to keep his scent fresh, to keep other predators away.... he tries to act tough about it, that they are just animals and its simply his job to keep them alive, but he bottlefeeds that baby with such a tenderness that you KNOW he's lying. he'll get up at the crack of dawn to mix up some milk replacer for that thing and pat its little rump while it eats because 'the damn thing wont eat unless i do it!"

his bottle baby ends up needing to be put down for some reason or another and he's despondent for weeks, zoning off into space with this sigh he doesn't even know he's doing-

"that's farm life," he tells you. "nothing to be torn up about."

[umno-yeah]

Past Caleb blowing up, losing his arm, nearly dying, only to get experimented on dozens of times : Is it... Is it worth it?

Future Caleb, balls deep in Mc: Holy shit dude you have NO idea

[umno-yeah]

Strawberry Tea and Hot Chocolate

(Read on AO3)

With the creators revealed, I'm happy to present my gift for @supernova2395 for @arlathanxchange 💖

T. 2,031 words

“Hey, sorry, I think they switched us by accident.”

“Pardon?”

“Our drinks?”

The stranger — a bald elf wearing a dark turtleneck, his jacket slung over the back of the cafe chair — raised an eyebrow at her. He would be handsome, Ellana thought, if that furrow on his brow didn't go so deep when he caught sight of her face. A city elf then, obviously, or at the very least, not Dalish. Ellana jutted her chin at him, vallaslin highlighted by the early afternoon sun from the nearby window, and raised an eyebrow in return.

—

Or, Solas' and Ellana's drinks are switched. A meet-cute ensues over drinks and a book.

Preview under the cut

“Hey, sorry, I think they switched us by accident.”

“Pardon?”

“Our drinks?”

The stranger — a bald elf wearing a dark turtleneck, his jacket slung over the back of the cafe chair — raised an eyebrow at her. He would be handsome, Ellana thought, if that furrow on his brow didn't go so deep when he caught sight of her face. A city elf then, obviously, or at the very least, not Dalish. Ellana jutted her chin at him, vallaslin highlighted by the early afternoon sun from the nearby window, and raised an eyebrow in return.

Putting his book down, the stranger took ahold of the cup, giving it a quick swirl with one long hand, the smell of strawberry black tea wafting up to his nose. He scrunched his face in displeasure.

“Ah. It would seem so.” He sighed and carefully placed a bookmark between the pages of his book and closed it.

Wait. Ellana caught sight of the book cover — was that…?

“Is that the sequel to The Viper's Nest by Varric Tethras?” She put her — well, his — cup of hot chocolate down on the table and pulled a chair next to him, not missing the way his eyes lighted in interest. “I thought that wouldn't be out until next month.”

If the stranger was surprised, he was very good at not showing it. He simply cocked his head at her and answered, “It's an author's copy.”

“Wait. Are you…?”

He suddenly laughed, low and full, and Ellana flushed at the sound of it.

“No, no.” He smiled at her, just a small curl of the edges of his lips. “I'm not quite so prolific. Simply reading for a friend.”

(Read on AO3)

[umno-yeah]

e-dating nerd armin who you met on discord through a friend of a friend and the two of you do the nastiest shit on video calls

[umno-yeah]

"Wow, you talk about that character a lot" I want to fuck him.

[umno-yeah]

she has that sadness in her eyes that you only see in alcoholic captains of doomed arctic expeditions

[umno-yeah]

This or nothing

[umno-yeah]

♥Sylus Motorcycle lessons~

*More art on Patreon

[umno-yeah]

[umno-yeah]

Sweets and treats are all the nutrients a princess needs

[umno-yeah]

sucker for a man kneeling before me

[umno-yeah]

Even with the warming spells, the cold breeze off of the Northern Sea rips through your cloaks. Snow has already melted through your pants, shivering your skin and sapping away your body heat. It's a full days walk to the nearest port, then a ferry ride back to the mainland. In three days, you'll be out of his hair forever and he can move on, live a happier life than you could even provide.

The salt air burns your cheeks.

That is, if you can even make it there. You might die on the way. You don't know if that's a bad thing; not when the pain you carry is so heavy. Maybe it would be easier to just lay down and succumb.

Obsidian had said that you would break his heart one day, but it turns out that the opposite was true. His silver tongue bewitched you and you had lost track of the truth: men would always hurt you, always-

Your name is carried on the wind.

Obsidian. When you turn, he's running, barreling towards you with all the might his body can muster. Snow is caught on his shoulders and stuck to his coat, building as he rushes down the path.

There's no reason for you to run towards him. Your decision has been made, your die has been cast. This man has broken your heart beyond repair.

And yet.

Your legs move on their own. Just as you always do, you run towards him. When you meet, almost colliding with force, he takes you by the forearm and pulls you in close, arm wrapped around your shoulders.

"You're so cold." His voice is haggard, not entirely from panting. "I thought-- you're so cold."

You can feel his heart pounding under his skin, racing faster and faster. His body jerks with each breath and you suddenly realize he's on the brink of crying, sucking in air to hold back tears.

"Why did you follow me?" you ask. The real question you want to ask is why is he crying, but you bite it back, afraid of the answer.

"Why did I--? I would follow you to hell and back. I would swim oceans to find you." He drops to his knees, sinking with the snow, clutching at your legs with a fervent need, as if you'll slip away once again. "Every step I've ever taken was bringing me to you."

His frame is so big that when he looks up, his head rests against your torso. Those bright green eyes stare up at you, the whites red stained and glossed with tears. the ones that have escaped have frozen to his face, sculptures to his misery.

"Why did you go?"

The tears you had swallowed escape all at once. You sob, body heaving and shaking even as you cover your mouth.

"Obi..." you mourn as you wipe away his frozen tears. "I need to go. I'm not right for you."

He squeezes you tighter, gathering your coat in his hands.

"I don't belong there, Obi." You stroke the crest of his head, trying to engrain every ridge into your memory. "I know your mother wants-"

"I do not give an everloving fuck what my mother wants." Obsidian spits out the curse. It shocks you a bit. "I want you. I want you. I want you."

He kneels for you like it's worship, like he's praying for something he cannot have. It's mournful, hopeful, pained and healing. His expression is soft, even as his tears continue to roll.

"I want you."

Love is cruel, you decide. Vicious and cruel. The two of you cry together, frozen in place by the cold.

"Sorghum told me about the other girl," you say.l once you gather yourself. "The one you're going to marry."

Obsidian shakes his head together. "Other women don't exist to me -"

"The one your mother chose. The white-"

"Bubble?!" // He is so aghast the it makes you laugh through your tears.

"Sorghum translated your conversation." Laughter has freed more tears. "She said Umi matched you two-"

"She clearly did not translate well!" He swallows down his anger, over and over again. "Bubble and I were matched together, yes-"

You try to pull away, but he grips tighter, another plead. His manicured claws don't hurt when they dig into your skin.

"When we were children," he stresses. "I rejected the offer years ago-- before I ever left for school. My mother just wanted me to visit an old friend before we left."

The statement sits with you for a long moment. The bitter night has left both of you quaking and wet, shivering into each other's heat.

"But, Sorghum said-"

"Sorghum is a horrible, bitter woman who is caught in her own misery," Obi says. "I told my Umi under no certain terms that you are the love of my life."

He releases you to sit back on his heels, fishing into his pocket. From his pocket, he produces a familiar item- your abandoned earring. He holds it out with reverence, like it's a precious jewel.

"A direct translation would be that I have placed my heart in a silver dish for you to dine on," Obsidian says. "I am yours."

You uncurl your hand. The other earring had been gripped so hard that its edges cut into your palm. A perfect, heartbroken set.

"Loving me means we can't stay here. You'd be losing your culture," you whisper, barely audible over the howl of the wind.

"I don't want to stay here!" Obsidian gestures to the world around you. The ice barren cliffs, the white capped sea, the dot of a town behind you. It's lifeless, frozen and snowbound. Obi had always preferred the warmth, sun to bask in, warm waters for swimming. It had never occurred to you why he had ventured off, why he had chosen the life of a traveler when his family was waiting.

"I adore my family, but they do not control my life. They do not dictate my happiness. I left to explore the world to become my own self, to choose my own life." He stands finally to brush the hair back from your face. It's frozen in tendrils to your forehead. "And I choose you with every bit and fiber of my being."

He takes his earring and loops it into its place. His hand stays extended expectantly, waiting for your half of the set.

"I should have told you about Bubble, but I knew you were feeling othered. I didn't want to make it worse."

"I will always be a human." You place the earring into his palm. You look at him, truly look, drink in every curve of his face, every scale and horn and tooth. It's yours, all of him is yours and yours alone. "Loving me will never be easy."

He loops your other earring in for you. "It's always been easy to me."

Suddenly. you press on to your toes and press your forehead against his.

"Come home with me." Obi whispers. He holds you again, softer this time, now that he knows you won't slip away. "Let me warm you tonight."

This time, it's you who holds tight. "Keep me warm for the rest of our lives."

[umno-yeah]

the love was there. it didnt change anything and it wasnt even thematically relevant and honestly it kinda got annoying to the point where i wished for hatred and malice instead and it ruined the whole thing for me

[umno-yeah]

[umno-yeah]

"im riding my biggest dildo imagining it's you" maybe use one of your medium sized dildos?

[umno-yeah]

you gross nasty freak wanna hangout

[umno-yeah]

The sun does not crest the sky once today, but the town stays fully alight. The city center is teeming with life: music and food and drinks strong enough to shock your senses and flush your cheeks after one sip. For a calm and conservative culture, the festival is rather wild.

You've perched yourself at the outskirts, on a lounging bed. The dragonborns occasionally glance your way, more curious than anything else.

A bunch of younger girls ask to touch your hair in broken Common before Obi chases them away. The man has been busy catching up with friends and over indulging with his brother, but he often loops around to check on you.

Sorghum comes by where you are sitting and pushes a plate of food into your hands wordlessly. When she returns to her husband, she shrugs away his drunken touch.

Seeing her face leaves a hollow feeling in your chest. You don't eat anything she's brought you.

It's only a bit later that your beloved staggers over to you with open arms. He's dressed in fine, sheer robes, woven in beautiful, bright patterns.

"Oh," he breathes. "I'm mesmerized."

Obsidian kneels beside the fainting couch, resting his chin on the arm. He smiles up at you with a contemplative glee, eyes wet from the liquor. The party swells and moves around you, but Obsidian stays still, regarding you carefully.

"You are utterly radiant," he sighs. He nuzzles his face into his arms like a lovelorn schoolboy. "Like a star plucked from the sky."

Despite yourself. you melt a bit. You reach up and scratch the ridges on his head, tracing over each bump with your nails. "Obi..."

"Eternally, painfully, tragically beautiful. I am so lucky you fell into my life." It's the alcohol talking, you remind yourself, but his voice is so earnest. "So beautiful that you break my heart whenever you look away."

You turn out of bashfulness and the dragonborn whines, flopping harder into the couch. When you look back, he practically purrs.

"Are you warm enough, my fawn?" The dress is intertwined with warming spells, sown in by your lover himself. It's a traditional draconic dress, clearly not built to account for your breasts. It scoops low, low enough that your body threatens to spill over when you move the wrong way. "Are you too warm?"

"It's perfect," you say. "Thank you."

He judges his nose into the air, once, twice, three times, eyes half closed.

"Kiss me?" he asks.

You look around. "People are watching, Obi."

"Let them!" He rises to nudge his snout into your lips, the chastest of human kisses, then goes to rub the side of his face into your cheek. He purrs and clicks and runs his hand down your side, slidingyour dress down ever so slightly.

"Obi!" you giggle. "Obi, my hair!"

His horns are tangled in your braids.

"I will not stop until you kiss me back," he demands. He's being borderline lewd for dragonborn standards, especially since you two are not officially mates yet.

The memory of earlier suddenly rings through your teeth. There is no 'yet'. You two are not mates and will never be. Sadly, you give in, nudging him back. Obsidian's scales are so smooth against the sensitive skin of your face.

"Will you dance with me, my love?" he asks as he pulls away. "I will teach you the steps."

It's a group dance, the kind that has partners switching every couple of moments. You've danced like this before, it's nothing you can't learn on the fly, but you still shake your head.

"Maybe later," you say. He stands and starts backwards towards the dance floor, arm extended towards you the entire time. Truthfully, you want him to stay, but you couldn't ask Obi to stay by your side all night. He deserves fun, he deserves to dance, he deserves-

"My heart will be with you," Obsidian coos.

He deserves more than you can give him.

He slides into the rhythm of the dance without trying. It's beautiful to watch how they all glimmer in the firelight, their scales and jewelry glittery and shined to perfection. Obsidian shines brighter than any of them all, of course; it may be bias, but you swear that he's the prettiest one of them all, with those emerald green eyes.

You're so sweet on him that you almost don't see someone else had joined the dance, but a flash of white snaps you back to reality.

The girl is just as pretty as you had been told, even for human standards. The way she holds her head is regal, with a lifted chin and an upturned smile. Her build is small for a dragonborn, but it seems to be perfectly sized when Obsidian's hand slides around her waist. The two of them step in, step out, then twirl, eyes never leaving each other's as they dance. There's a shared laugh before they separate, moving on to the next partner, but the moment repeats in your mind, over and over again.

His hand on her waist. Black scales against white.

You don't belong here.

.

It's less than an hour later when Obsidian comes back to your chair and finds you gone. He pokes around the festival, expecting to find you pulled away by children or women, but every corner is empty of you.

"Sorghum-" Obsidian is suddenly sober as he approaches his sister in law. "Have you seen my fawn? She's not where I left her."

Sorghum huffs, bothered by the interruption. Her group of friends chitters on without her.

"Humans have legs, Obsidian. Maybe she used them."

That sets Obsidian's teeth on edge. "Malachite is a saint for dealing with your attitude."

There's a retort as he walks away, but he can't focus on that, not when his mind is on the brink of panic. Where could you have gone in this little town?

By the time he makes it to his family home, real, deep worry has started make his hands quiver.

"Fawn," he calls down the hall. "Princess."

He checks his room first, mostly out of muscle memory. He had gotten used to waking up beside you; sleeping alone made his heart ache.

Your room is empty as well. Too empty. It takes him a moment to realize your bag is gone, along with your coats and boots.

On the nightstand is a single earring, his own scales staring back at him like two little black voids.