The Sketch From My Old Blog That I Sadly Imprisoned

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.

Word Count:.. too long..:10811. Title: “All Bets Are Off.” (Thank you for the title and the fic graphic, @theeironprice!! You’re the absolute bestest!!) Modern AU, Rodeo Thramsay. It’s Thramsay… but they’re both competing in a rodeo. The most lighthearted I have ever written… but it’s still Thramsay. Rating: Explicit. For downright raunchiness. Link if you wanna see where this strange tale takes us: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/62885251"

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 in stunned disbelief and resolved that whoever had the nerve to do that, had approximately three seconds to cobble together a fantastic reason, before his fist made its connection with 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 had 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 and placed a hand on his chest. “‘Harassing’? I only came to wish you luck.”

“Well, you have now, so goodbye.” Theon made a point to turn his back, pick up a curry comb and start brushing the dirt off Smiler. 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 after, 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.

I drew Arya in the Smallwood acorn dress like a year ago and then I forgor about it.

So have Arya in the Smallwood acorn dress doodle

READ THIS NOW!!! Such a fantastic portrayal of these characters!!🥺😭💗

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy Characters: Theon Greyjoy, Ramsay Bolton Additional Tags: Stockholm Syndrome, Trauma Bonding, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Masturbation, Rape Fantasy, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Mixed Canon, Self-Esteem Issues, Not Beta Read Summary:

Reek knew he didn’t deserve pleasure, but Ramsay never gave him a choice in the matter. Somehow that thought was comforting.

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

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

Got you!🎃

Commission done by cereza365.

Theon stared at the flames over the rim of his wine goblet, brooding on the injustice of it all. “I rode beside Robb Stark in the Whispering Wood,” he muttered. He had been frightened that night, but not like this. It was one thing to go into battle surrounded by friends, and another to perish alone and despised. Mercy, he thought miserably.

— ACOK, THEON VI.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64633732

(Fic graphic by the amazingly talented @theeironprice ! Thank you, thank you!!)

Word count: 21,383. Rating: Explicit. Less lighthearted than its predecessor, friends. I won’t take offense if it’s not your thing. Mind the tags:) Some text beneath the cut.

Theon’s own brow furrowed as he watched the expression on Ramsay's face change. Where once there was a teasing and arrogant smile, it was replaced with a seemingly thoughtful gaze.

He flinched when rough fingers began to card slowly through his hair. The sensation was far from unpleasant, but it still put him on edge; he leaned away as far as he could into the thick, uncomfortable pillows. But when the tips of those fingers massaged into his temple, he had to bite back the sigh that was halfway up his throat, poised on the back of his tongue.

A thick finger twirled a lock of Theon’s hair around it next to his face. A frown pulled the corners of Ramsay’s lips down. “That’s such an unpleasant word,” he murmured quietly. “It’s disappointing how quick you are to slip that mask back on. Hiding from what you really want but are too cowardly to reach for.” The brush of his nose along the side of Theon’s face made him shudder.

I engage with fiction in a normal way. don’t look at my blog