Are You Kidding?? And With Walda And Roose There??? I CanNOT Contain My Excitement. Sequel To One Of

‘don’t you want your favourite character to be happy???’ no? i want my favourite character to be interesting. i want me to be happy. which sometimes involves my favourite character being in exquisite agony

Just look at this beautiful arttttt. Agh!! Stunning. Everyone should go read The Best Pet by Weeping Eighth on Ao3!!! If you like dog Theon, you’ll love that!!🥺🥹❤️

They are playing twister

Theon examined the bottom of Smiler’s hoof with a practiced eye. The frog looked well-formed still, his flare of thrush seeming to have receded fully after the regular treatments.

Smiler shifted against his shoulder, strong muscles quivering beneath smooth, sleek hair.

“Easy,” Theon soothed, reaching to run a hand across the underside of his horse’s stomach in hopes of comforting him. “Almost done.”

Before he could even reach for his hoof pick, a harsh, stinging smack to his right ass cheek nearly had him sprawled face-first into the dung-covered dirt.

He dropped Smiler’s foot abruptly in a way he never normally would, but the force of the slap, even through his riding breeches, had him staggering forward with a yelp.

With his left hand braced on his horse’s flank, he quickly regained his balance. He stood motionless for a moment, and resolved that whoever had the nerve to do that, had approximately three seconds to come up with a fantastic reason, before his fist met their face.

“Need some help?” A voice all but purred from close behind him.

Wait… he knew that voice.

Shit fucker.

He turned around and sure enough; Ramsay Bolton. Clad in his blue jeans, rough leather chaps and light pink button up shirt. Half the buttons were left open showcasing thick dark hair painted across his broad chest. Long, black hair pulled back into a low ponytail. A signature teasing smirk curling half of his thick lips.

Theon fought to stifle his groan. He’d gotten his hopes up that Ramsay wouldn’t be at this rodeo- he hadn’t seen his name on any of the sign-in sheets.

“What are you doing here?”

Ramsay raised his brows, his expression sardonic. “Well, you may be aware that this is a competition, and I happen to be a top competitor in it.”

“I mean harassing me in my horse’s stall, obviously,” Theon snapped, irritation thick in his tone.

The larger man put on an exaggerated, faux-wounded expression. “‘Harassing’? I only came to wish you luck.”

“Well, you did, so goodbye.” Theon made a point to turn his back, pick up a curry comb and start brushing the dirt off of Smiler’s back. It was pointless; he took immaculate care of him and nary a speck of dust could be brought up. He just needed something to occupy himself with and make it look like he was busy.

He jumped and dropped the comb when a large hand cupped his ass, spanning almost all the way across the entirety of it. Fingers dug into his flesh, kneading and bringing a throbbing warmth to the sore, abused cheek.

Theon shied away, pulling free of the grip and turning a glare on Ramsay. “Don’t touch me.”

The other man cocked his head, an amused, if slightly incredulous look on his face. “We’ve fucked, and you have a problem with me touching your ass?”

“First of all,” Theon said, drawing himself up with as much dignity as he could muster, “we fucked once, and it was only because I was drunk and you took advantage.” He walked over to his black English saddle with gold accents, hefting it easily. “It hurt to take a shit for a week, in case you were wondering.” Ignoring the other man’s snicker at that, he tossed the saddle onto Smiler’s back and began fastening the girth and breast collar. “Second,” he purposely kept his back to Ramsay, “you didn’t just ‘touch’, you hit me.”

“It was a love-tap.”

“It. Hurt,” Theon grit out.

“Aw, want me to kiss it better?” He sounded far too eager for that; Theon could picture his eyes lighting up.

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Your loss,” Ramsay hummed.

Seriously. Where’s the hype for Thramsay? Feel like it’s not what it used to be😭

I hate how fandom has become "if you haven't created anything in this very specific time frame after the release of the show/movie, everyone will have moved on"

And call me old fashioned, but that's just not me. I sometimes take ages to create and publish. And I will love a show or movie for such a long time (years, babes, years) that I just can't relate to the fast consumerism that's going on.

Because, let's be real, it can get really lonely in a fandom if most have simply moved on to the next shiny thing. Is what's created less worth, just because it was created outside the hype? Why is it such a taboo for this new fandom generation to love an old or "late" fic or art?

It's so tiring and I'm too old for the 30-seconds-hype-tiktok-shit. Just tired. So, so tired.

5 Pieces of Media to Describe Me

Thank you for the tag @5005weep and @pseudonym-s !! So fun!

Tagging @cola-fiend @theeironprice No pressure! I’d love to see y’all’s picks though<33

Everyone needs more cat hybrid Ramsay in their life. Whether you realize it yet or not, you’ll want more after this read.💝

Im a bit late to the WIP word train but I finally had a draft I could use for it 🎀 I was tagged by @liocreates and the word was flay!

This little snippet is from part two of my silly lil’ cat hybrid Ramsay AU~

The pictures a bit hard to read so here is the text plus some extra:

As Theon stretches the hem of the sweater down, his mouth goes dry. It’s much tighter than it had been.

Through the maroon knit, every curve and bulge of Ramsay’s body is on display. It’s sinfully tight around his chest, highlighting the suppleness. The fabric is fighting to contain his girth.

Frowning, Theon tries to tug at the sweater to stop it from clinging to him; only there’s not enough give to make a difference. Last time he’d wrangled Ramsay into wearing it, it had fit him just fine. Apparently the garment had shrunk in the wash.

‘You know it didn’t shrink,’ Theon’s brain whispers to him. With a dry swallow, he takes a step back and helps the hybrid off the couch.

Getting pants on Ramsay is a pain—he has to be careful with his pet's tail or he’ll see his blood spilt. Working the fabric up gently, Theon finds himself running into a similar issue as he had with the sweater.

It barely fits.

reblog with a spoiler for your wip with zero context. no context allowed.

the sketch from my old blog that i sadly imprisoned