I Can’t Handle Looking At This For More Than A Few Seconds At A Time. Feels Too Real And I’m Simply

Let’s go!! Better drop whatever you’re doing, cause we got a new chapter!!

The new chapter of my Blockbuster employee Theon x Ramsay fic For Rent is up! This chapter was originally meant to be apart of the last one but—

✨I ran out of time so this part is late✨

Text:

For once, Theon's not dreading going to work, despite having to stay late to do inventory.

The trip with Ramsay had been great, but since he had moved in, they'd spent nearly every waking moment together, and god, he just needed a break.

And he may or may not be looking forward to bragging about the trip.

He is. He definitely is. Finally something to shove in their faces.

Though he was mildly excited at the prospect of his shift, he still pulls into the parking lot ten minutes past his intended start time. He jogs over to the front door, the familiar chime making him feel bright and alert instead of irritated and disgruntled.

The familiar scent of popcorn just barely masking the scent of musty carpet wafts into his nose, and the fluorescent light washes over him with an unusually soft glow. To some extent, walking into the Blockbuster felt like coming home.

Um, my eyes have been blessed this day🥺❤️💝The detail here is astounding and I am so beyond touched and grateful.

from @dauthdaert-the-orchid fic all bets are off!!

I loved the story and it's setting, the descriptions, and god! the characterisation was on point! Definitely a big fan so I thought what can I do to show my love? 🤔

Draw! So I did Ramsay riding his bull, because it was one of my fav parts (and I love drawing animals)

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!🎃

I will not rest until this fic gets its proper due. It is so good!!!🥺💞 If you love Thramsay, this is an absolute must read. And if you just want a good story about characters with questionable morals, spiciness, phenomenal characterization, stellar relationships, relatability and a fantastic premise… This has everything you need. Read it now, you will not be disappointed.

New chapter of my Blockbuster Thramsay AU ‘For Rent’ is up! ⭐️

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59310016/chapters/163471921

I’m not the most jazzed by this fic graphic but I found the Blockbuster employee training manual on the internet archives and I wanted to try and use it 🥺

I’m out of town for a few more days!! But as soon as I’m back I’ll be replying to comments~

Preview:

“You’re home early,” Ramsay comments as the younger man stalks over to the kitchen. The lack of greeting irks him, but interest in Theon being home so early overrides his desire to scold his pet.

A crisp ‘pop’ of a tab punching a hole in a can echoes from the adjacent room, and then Theon returns. Ramsay watches the muscles in his neck squirm as he takes a long, dramatic gulp of his beer. “I got fucking fired.”

Ramsay shoots up and practically skips over to Theon. His sea-blue eyes are brimming with salty tears—if they fall, he doubts he’ll be able to stop himself from licking them up. The redness of his waterline tells him that he’s already shed a few tears on the drive home. Maybe he’d even cried in the store; the mental image delights him.

Send Me a Character & I'll Tell You✨️

My first impression

My impression now

Favorite thing about that character

Least favorite thing

Favorite line/scene

Favorite interaction that character has with another

A character that I wish that character would interact with more

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character

A headcanon about that character

A song that reminds of that character

An unpopular opinion about that character

Favorite picture

Seal

A get-to-know-me. I was tagged by; @wetcarcass (a month ago😭) and @liocreates! Thanks for the tag!

Now, all two people who are reading this…

Last Song: All of Clamavi De Profundis’ covers of LOTR songs… Especially Song of Durin. Call me a nerd, I don’t care. I wear that title like a badge of honor.

Last Movie: The Lovely Bones/The Last Duel (highly underrated movie!)

Last Book: I read a lot of books simultaneously (I can’t put one story down competently for another. I can’t choose.) So I’m not certain which I finished last, but I think it was Les Miserables. Because I like to torture my emotions.

Last TV Show: TWD. It’s sentimental… love starting it over again. And that first episode is peak tv.

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: I like to torture my digestive tract, so spicy is my fave.

Relationship Status: Don’t believe in such a thing;)

Last Thing I Googled: Medieval castle designs, and where to stab into someone’s side without killing them (if you ever needed to, let’s say, pin someone to a tree with knives)… It did not yield quite the results I expected.

Current Obsession: Mythological Thramsay. Reading all the great Thramsay out there. Discussing Thramsay… hehe. And getting better with my bow. And riding more… but that’s boring stuff.

Can’t tag anyone; they’ve all been tagged:) But if you wanna do it, then tag me so I can see! Let’s get to know each other!

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.

you know you’re a writer when…

you spend 30 minutes choosing the perfect synonym for “said” only to change it back to “said.”

you google “how long does it take to bleed out” at 3 a.m. and now the FBI is probably watching you.

you write one sentence, stare at it, rewrite it 14 times, and somehow end up back at the original version.

“this scene is so important” but you have no idea what the scene actually is or why it’s important.

you come up with the best story ideas… in the shower… with no way to write them down.

your characters feel like real people but also you’re like “who are these guys and what do they want from me?”

your brain says “start writing!” but instead you reorganize your desk, reread your notes, and spend two hours naming a side character who shows up once.

you’ve cried over your WIP exactly 67 times and will do it again because the pain is the point.

you reread something you wrote and think, “wow, did i peak as a writer three months ago?”

every writing session begins with the sacred ritual of scrolling social media, opening unnecessary tabs, and procrastinating until panic sets in.

you have no idea how long a chapter should be, so you just… vibe.

you can’t watch tv or movies without mentally critiquing the plot, dialogue, and pacing.

your writing playlist is 98% vibes, 2% songs you’ll actually listen to while writing.

you keep a “murder notebook” but swear it’s not suspicious because it’s for your novel (probably).

the phrase “just one more draft” is your eternal mantra, even though you’ve rewritten this thing more times than you can count.