#blaine x peyton

[stardreamer28]

"We can't all look like we were created in a lab by 14yr old boys, can we?"

LOL not only is that line super cute but the amount of frankenstein references he used as blaine was awesome

[langernameohnebedeutung]

#THE WORST PART IS THAT BLAINE HAS HIS FUCKING MEMORY BACK BY NOW#WHAT AN ASS#SQUEEZING PITY FROM GOOD PEOPLE LIKE BLOOD FROM A FUCKING STONE (via @imusthavebecomesomething)

[waytoomanyhobbies]

Fanwork creators self rec! When you get this, reply with your three best and/or favorite fanarts/fanfics/moodboards/whatever that you've made, then pass on to others. No self-deprecation allowed! Let's get this self-love going ON!

@babsvibes @sailoreuterpe

I've gotten a couple of these, and I'm so flattered to get them. Took me a little while to decide which 3 things to rec. I've done a little of everything in fandoms, but I think I am most proud of my fics. This isn't ranked. It's just three fics I'm proud of.

Starting with the most recent fic on this list, we have a Stardew Valley one-shot. This is the only time I've ever written in 2nd person, but making it a [Y/N] fic seemed like a fun way of acknowledging the character creator in the game. It's an Explicit rated fic about a female SDV farmer character who married Sam from the game, and the two of them dealing with her nearly getting killed during an expedition to Skull Caverns. I mean, who doesn't like to take the character who hides all their emotional trauma behind a friendly smile and break them open like an angst filled piñata using the emotional whump stick? There is some violence in the description of the attack, but it's mostly rated for the smutty content later on.

Bittersweet Between My Teeth has to go on the list. It was originally meant to be a 4 chapter hurt/comfort fic with Peyton/Blaine. It turned into an 89,000-word novel with action, twists, and subplots. It ended up with an almost equal amount of RaviOli page time and plot. It also became an AU S4 fix-it fic for a lot of the issues I had with the series that led to me no longer watching iZombie. For example, there was this double standard where bad guys weren't allowed to be redeemed even if they wanted to change and heroes couldn't fall from grace even if they participated in insurrection, lynching, and creating/using child soldiers. So, I tried to address and include the characters seeking and needing redemption on both those sides. It's rated Mature, mostly for violence and gore.

And my third self-rec goes to my Sherlolly one-shot. After a certain ILY over the phone, there was a conversation and meeting that all of us shippers wanted to see. This was my take on Sherlock trying to fix things with Molly after the events with Eurus. I'm still insanely fond of how Sherlock, in particular, came out here and of paying off a few lines that I really wanted to see called back. Certain lines still hit me in my whole heart. It's rated Teen.

[ginevrastilinski-ocs]

Glee OCs Masterlist [A-K]

Name: Alaska Devon

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Noah Puckerman

Quote: And you know damn well, for you I would ruin myself a million little times.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Madison Iseman

Name: Audrey Clay

Pronouns: she/her

Story: The Band And I

LI: TBD

Quote: Love yourself, girl, or nobody will.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Barbie Ferreira

Name: Benjamin Evans

Pronouns: he/him

Story: Untitled

LI: TBD

Quote: Any you've got a smile that can light up this whole town.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Kit Connor

Name: Carina Fabray

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Rachel Berry

Quote: The very idea that you're too kind, too sensitive, too emotional, too enthusiastic, too loving is bat-shit preposterous.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Aimee Lou Wood

Name: Chrissy Chamberlain

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Tina Cohen-Chang

Quote: I've been so lucky, I am the girl with golden hair.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Peyton List

Name: Christine Schuester

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Coming Of Age

LI: Finn Hudson; Quinn Fabray; eventual Quinn Fabray & Sam Evans

Quote: I am holding my loneliness and she is a teenage girl with puffy eyes, and I love her more than I have ever loved anyone.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Maisie Peters

Name: Connie Sanchez

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Edge Of Great

LI: Marley Rose

Quote: It's not what you lost, it's what you'll gain, raising your voice to the rain.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Madison Reyes

Name: Cosette Chamberlain

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Cooper Anderson

Quote: Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize everywhere.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Tilly Keeper

Name: Dahlia Jones

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Brittany Pierce

Quote: She was sunshine, I was midnight rain.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: China Anne Mcclain

Name: Dorothy Berry

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Mercedes Jones

Quote: I'm so tired of being the girl I am.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Emma Mackey

Name: Dulcie Klempt

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: TBD

Quote: The seats are empty, the theatre is dark. Why do you keep acting?

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Kristine Froseth

Name: Ellie Duke

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Coming Of Age; [Multi]

LI: N/A

Quote: When you grow up, you should be just like you.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Abby Ryder Fortson

Name: Elliott Walker

Pronouns: he/him

Story: True Colors

LI: Rory Flanagan

Quote: I want to be great or nothing.

Pinterest: X

FC: Tom Holland

Dance Team: Charlie Fenlon - Duncan Dayrell - Gigi Collier - Hannah Gloss - Lau Reed - Louis Aster - Midge Beryl - Rosamund Gaulett

Name: Emmett Dove

Pronouns: he/him

Story: Untitled

LI: Waverly Jones

Quote: Even in my worst times you could see the best of me.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Nicholas Galitzine

Name: Garreth Duke

Pronouns: he/him

Story: Coming Of Age; [Multi]

LI: Emma Pillsbury

Quote: Be the reason someone feels welcomed, seen, heard, valued, loved and supported.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Paul Rudd

Name: Honey Hayes

Pronouns: she/her & they/them

Story: The Band And I

LI: TBD

Quote: I am bitter. I am seventeen. I am searching for the exit.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Sophie Thatcher

Name: Jake Berry

Pronouns: he/him

Story: Untitled

LI: Blaine Anderson

Quote: Be gentle with me. I'm more delicate than I look.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Felix Mallard

Name: Jean St James

Pronouns: she/her

Story: The Rose Song

LI: TBD

Quote: How silly of me to forget that I am the love of my life.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Olivia Rodrigo

Name: Jennifer Glynn

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Linda Berry

Quote: How can I ask anyone to love me when all I do is beg to be left alone?

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Liz Gillies

Name: Kathleen Bao

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Artie Abrams

Quote: Just because my dreams are different than yours doesn't mean they're unimportant.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Lana Condor

Name: Kaylee Hummel

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Sam Evans

Quote: Gonna find the strength, find the melody, 'cause you showed me how to do it.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Danielle Rose Russell

Name: Kipp Hudson

Pronouns: he/him

Story: Untitled

LI: Noah Puckerman; Brittany Pierce; endgame Mike Chang

Quote: Mother says I was a dancer before I could walk. She says I began to sing long before I could talk.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Milo Manheim

[careless-with-your-heart]

Seeing Red 🍸😡🧟💋

This fits perfectly for @ockissweek! So excited! Enjoy this one-shot for #ockiss24.

Seeing Red: A Blaine DeBeers x OC KissFic One-Shot

You can’t kiss her.

The thought practically eats Blaine alive—an oxymoron if he’s ever heard one.

It’s only been a week since Catherine blew in with the rain, and already she’s making herself useful. Not just in his fantasies, though there is that, but in cold, hard earnings. And for that—and all the other, carnal reasons that keep him up at night—Blaine wants to kiss Catherine-No-Middle-Name-Cohen full on her plush, tempting mouth.

“Why do you look so self-satisfied?”

Don E’s voice cuts through Blaine’s locked-eyes daydreaming, and over the glow of his laptop screen, Blaine raises a brow at his second-in-command as Don E glides into the back office of The Post, leaving the door yawning wide open behind him.

“I always look self-satisfied. I am a man intent on nothing else but satisfying himself.” To prove the point, Blaine lifts the half-full martini glass that rests on his desk and salutes the small, bald man standing in front of him before slugging down the remainder of the drink.

“Yeah, sure. But, like, right now, you just had this look on your face. Like, what’s the expression? The cat that ate the canary?”

“You got it switched, brother. The canary is the cat—Kitty, that is.”

Don E. smirks as he slides into the chair in front of Blaine’s desk. “You son of a bitch! You nailed her. Noice. Fast work. She seems a little damaged, but in that way you like. I dig it.” He leans forward conspiratorially. “Should I arrange for some flowers? A nice bottle of vino for the lady? A link to my YouTube channel?”

Blaine blanches. “Don’t be crass. I didn’t nail her. And no one watches your YouTube channel.”

It’s Don. E’s turn to protest. “Hey! I’ll have you know that my Redecorating Your Living Room When You’re No Longer Living series was very popular. Dozens of views. And if the Lady Catherine is now on Team Z, she might need some basic how-to on how to do the undead thing.”

“Mmm-hmm. Congrats on the views, champ, but she’s still human. Now, let’s get back to the subject at hand—our little stray cat has, in the past week, bumped nightly bar receipts up by thirty percent. And she breezed in here this morning with a full-on spreadsheet breaking down our liquor cost, in order of highest to lowest margins, and she’s gone to meet in person with two distributors who might cut those costs if we switch suppliers.”

Don E’s eyes widen. “Damn. Sorry bro. I mistook your money boner for a lady-inspired one. That’s some valid dreamy-eyed shit. She’s way nice, too. Did you know that Darcy loves her? Those two and Liv and Peyton, there’s a whole Clueless thing going on that is very, very heartwarming.”

“Why are you in my office, exactly?” Blaine says, closing down his laptop.

“Oh! Yes. Two items of business. One, remember that you asked Darcy to come in today to look over the delivery system and see if she can take the whole ordering process online.”

Blaine has forgotten—but now he recalls, and he nods agreeably. “That’s great. Crypto, right? Less physical cash changing hands means less chance of an extra hand in the honeypot.”

Don E rocks his chair back up on two legs, bracing his interlaced fingers behind his head. “Yeah, that’s the business part deux. We have a little prrrrrroblemo down in distribution that I wanted to talk to you about.” He grimaces slightly. “Caught one of the new delivery guys sampling the goods.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

What a way to kill the high of the morning’s financial gain.

“Nope. Hank.”

Blaine presses his lips together. “You vouched for him, Don.”

The younger man winces. “I know, bro. I was trying to help him out. He used to be my barista before, you know”—Don E’s tongue lolls out and he raises his arms in a caricature of Night of the Living Dead. Off of Blaine’s flat look, he drops his hands to his lap. “I came to you as soon as I knew. I’ll take care of it. I just didn’t want my partner out of the loop.”

“And now you want to bring Darcy in to automate the ordering? When your boy is stealing from me?” There’s no way for him to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

“She’s my wife, Blaine.”

His mood souring, Blaine shrugs. “I’m not catching your point.”

“I love her. She loves me. You don’t profess your love and then ask someone to share the rest of your life unless there’s trust, right?”

“The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose,” Blaine quotes flatly.

Don E’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, yeah. This from the guy who claims he doesn’t have it bad for the new livestock in town.”

Before Blaine can protest again, Don E puts up a hand to stop his reply. “You can say it’s money all you want, but I see the way you look at her, and all the other signs. If you’re not careful, you’ll fall, too. The indestructible Blaine DeBeers.”

The word isn’t quite right. Blaine knows a few other descriptors that are apt. Ones that were drilled into him young, and often.

Unlovable

Inadequate

Worthless

Blaine lifts his chin, smirking past the intrusive thoughts. “Other signs?”

“You’re dressing her up like your personal doll, Blaine. You’ve never done that with any of the back-room girls. And, last night, your pocket square matched her dress. “

Blaine remains silent, thoughtful.

Don E presses on. “You’ve given her every night shift this week—and, I might add, you’ve come in an hour early yourself every one of those nights. To throw some wisdom from your man Willie Shakes back at you, lovers ever run before the clock, bro."

Blaine rolls his eyes at Don E. "Don't save the date, my friend."

"See? Interested but cynical. Yearning for love but settling for cheap interludes. Face it, you have commitment issues."

"I suppose you have a YouTube video for that?"

"Your sarcasm is a defense mechanism. Look at the facts. My dude, you barely let your shoes get walked in before you toss them."

"It's been my experience that a quality woman hates scuffed soles," Blaine shoots back, toying with the edge of the empty martini glass on his desk. 

"Soles or souls? Fifty-fifty chance you fail there, boss."

Blaine laughs and puts a hand over his chest, bending double in his chair as he pretends to clutch his heart. “Damn! Ouch.” Then, sitting up, still grinning, Blaine says, “I admit that our newest house human is aesthetically pleasing. And she knows how to make money. But if you think a little ‘ol steak dinner on a pair of nice stems is going to tempt me into forever, brother, you don’t know me at all.”

“I do. And you know me. And I love Darcy. So trust her because you trust me.”

Blaine nods. “Fair enough.” But he’s still more than a little annoyed. Not just by Don E’s too-keen observations about how he was beginning to feel about Kitty, but by the stress fractures he saw forming in his usually well-run businesses. The bartender that had just been caught pouring heavy for his friends last week. The delivery guy skimming brains. What did a dishonest businessman have to do to get good help in this town?

A sudden knock on the doorframe of the office yanks the attention of both men to the entryway.

Kitty stands there—and Blaine’s breath catches.

Don E swivels back around to face him, eyes wide. How long has she been standing there? he mouths.

Blaine ignores the question, but the possibility that she’d just heard their conversation makes his stomach twist. Instead of panicking outwardly, he opts for what gets him out of most situations—cocky, surface bravado, even if he’s a nervous wreck on the inside.

“Meals on Heels! Just the gal I was singing the praises of. How’d it go with the distributors?”

She shoots him an unreadable look as she makes her—brisk—way to his desk. “Really well. Two proposals, both great offers. Twenty or twenty-five percent off of current rates for your regular rotation stock. Higher discount wants a four-year contract, though.”

Don E seems to relax some.

Blaine smiles broadly. “Wow. Not bad, dollface. Not bad at all.”

“Not bad for cattle, isn’t that what you mean?” There’s a clipboard in her hand, and she slams it down on top of his closed laptop. “It’s your choice on which new supplier to go with—but maybe avoid the four-year contract if you’re commitment-shy.”

Both men gape at her.

"Anyway, guess this shows I'm good for more than a source of protein. I'll be out in the bar, trying to figure out what the hell you two are good for."

Then, she spins and marches out of his office.

Fuck.

Blaine rises from his office chair, shaking his head as he starts to follow her out onto the main bar floor. “Kitty, hold up. I didn’t mean…”

The office door slams in his face.

As Blaine goes stock-still in stunned silence, Don’s chair scrapes back as he stands. “Don’t chase her, dude. Let her go.”

Blaine rounds on him, snarling. “Shut up, Don E! I don’t need any more of your sage advice.”

But the other man is probably right. It won’t do anything except make things worse if he chases Kitty down while she’s angry. So Blaine steps back. It takes every ounce of willpower he’s able to scrape together, and probably some borrowed from whatever saint he last dined on to boot, but he does it. He leaves the door closed and paces back to his desk instead of storming out to ask her to forgive him—and to ask her who the fuck she thinks she is, slamming his own office door in his face.

“So, I’m going to retire Hank now, if that’s cool…” Don E says, shuffling in place. “Darcy should be here any minute.”

Maybe it’s his simmering annoyance at the employee messes, or the sudden, queasy unease he feels over Kitty overhearing what he’d said to his second-in-command. But whatever the cause, Blaine’s temples begin to throb, and anger suddenly swells in his chest. He’d been happy five minutes ago, head full of rainbows and unicorns and cotton-candy thoughts about the woman who’d just bitten his head off. She shouldn’t be so fucking sensitive. In fact, she should be grateful to him. He’d given her a job with very few questions asked.

Outside in the main bar, Blaine hears the sound of a door slamming. Then, muffled curses. She’s out there throwing a fit—and it makes his anger spike higher. It makes the part of him that is always simmering, spoiling for a fight, begin to boil. He pushes off of his desk, feeling the familiar red haze as the pressure of it begins to make his eyes burn.

“Dude?” Don E’s words after are a muffled mess of noise—nothing that will stop Blaine as he lets the anger rise, relishes it, embraces it as it climbs hotly through the stark, popped veins of his neck and into his head, taking over.

He is the boss here. Kitty works for him. And he’s going to show her just how much trouble her bratty little attitude has gotten her into.

Blaine doesn’t have to take his clash out to the bar. As soon as he flings open the door to his office, she’s there—so close, in fact, that he doesn’t even see her before they collide. But he hears her small, startled cry of surprise, and her softness registers against the lean, hard planes of him, and his raged-out brain indexes through a dozen reasons she’s coming back; and it settles hotly, and nearly instantly, on one reason in particular.

She’s come to insult him some more.

Unlovable

Inadequate

Worthless

And that isn’t fair, or accurate, or even related enough to be applied, but the anger doesn’t care. It siphons all the fuel it needs from the dark corners of his heart and grows, and grows…

I’ll show you exactly what I’m good for…

Blaine’s pissed enough that he rolls with the knee-jerk, Cro-Magnon urge that seizes him, gives in to the impulse, and throws out all care for the notion of what is prudent or professional or even safe—and he takes what he wants. What he’s wanted since that stormy Friday night when the city had delivered this lithe, magnetic mystery woman to his doorstep.

Kitty tries to pull back, but he reacts so quickly that she doesn’t stand a chance. He grips both of her upper arms, hauls her up, and through the blinding crest of the red haze, feeling as though his head might burst if he doesn’t, Blaine kisses her. He puts into the kiss all of the frustration he feels that has nothing at all to do with Kitty, and all of the lust that absolutely does. Just as he ducks toward her, he closes his eyes, peripherally afraid he’ll startle her with the blood-red in them.

Soft. You’re going soft, McDonough.

And that thought fans the flames of his fury higher, ensuring that the kiss is not soft. His lashes sweep her cheeks as his mouth attacks hers, and he lifts one hand from her arm to stab his fingers through her hair and fist the heavy, silky tresses to hold her still for his onslaught.

She stiffens at first. Blaine can only guess it’s in shock, but he hopes there’s a little anger of her own in the reflex. Something about his driving rage craves an answering anger in her. Maybe he wants Kitty mad to make it feel a little less like he’s the villain here. Predator, prey, hell, he isn’t sure which of them is which, anyway. Once he drops his other hand to haul her against him at the waist, she goes pliant against him, and Blaine wastes no time parting her teeth with his tongue, licking into her, withdrawing to bite and suck at her lower lip before pressing back in to steal the surprised gasp that escapes her when the last nip draws the barest taste of copper.

The blood excites him. It’s primal and elemental, and he doesn’t care if she bites him back. In fact, he’d go just about crazy if she did. He wants her to, wants to feel the sting of her canines in his lower lip, at the hollow of his neck, sinking into the meat of his shoulder through his shirt as he’s tearing off her panties. He wants a hundred little half-moon bruises left scattered over his body, despite the fact that he knows they will heal too quickly to be morning-after souvenirs.

She’s kissing him back now, pulling him urgently to her by the collar. It’s satisfying to feel that desperation, to know that he can make her so needy so fast. He feels a button on his shirt give way, feels her fingers slip over his throat, and he swallows an endless stream of her breathy moans as he turns the two of them and presses her to the doorframe, jamming a knee between her legs and leaving her lips to rake his front teeth down her neck. If the skin breaks, he’ll take it as sign from the universe that he’s meant to keep this enigma. And fuck Don E’s little H.P. Lovecrafting videos, Blaine will teach her everything she needs to know to become the undead queen of his dreams, and they can rule the gloomy, overprivileged burgs of Seattle together.

Forever, he thinks. A bride for Frankenstein’s monster.

It’s too close to sentiment for Blaine, too close to Don E’s cupid’s-arrow insights, and so Blaine simply pushes aside everything but the taste and scent and feel of Kitty against him. Every breath he draws is a tempest, his chest rising and falling with the fury of a Nor’easter. The veins on his neck stand out, dark and pronounced, as if they are bracing against the surge of anger pulsing through him. The hand he holds her close with trembles with barely contained rage, and in her hair, his fingers are still curled into a fist so tight that the knuckles whiten, nails dug into the palm, the pain a mere whisper against the roar of his baser emotions.

She’s practically climbing him, riding his thigh, a leg wrapping around his hip, the other en pointe like a ballerina to even out their heights, and he slams her back against the doorjamb with little regard for gentleness. This kiss edges on erupting into violence at any moment. It’s the rage, he knows, full-on zombie mode, but all he can think of is how he wants her begging underneath him—for pardon or pleasure, it makes no difference to him. He just wants her to submit. He just wants to conquer her.

Blaine clenches his fist against her scalp again, too tightly, and she whimpers into his open mouth.

“Blaine.”

The kiss has gone on for an eternity, or maybe it’s only been a handful of seconds. Blaine falters when the red haze begins to recede, when he registers that the pliant, pronounced curve at her waist is lower than he expects, and when he realizes that he has forced Kitty to a tiptoe with his hold in her hair.

Tiptoe?

And then, the voice saying his name…is not the husky, velvet timbre that he was listening for. Raspy, yes, the lilt of a woman well-kissed, but higher in octave. And Kitty wouldn’t need to stand on tiptoe to make their heights align. She’s only about an inch or two shorter than he is.

Blaine’s eyes fly open as he pulls away.

Staring up at him, eyes wide and pupils blown, lips bite-swollen and red, cheeks so flushed that her pale skin seems almost sunburned, is Darcy.

“Oops,” Blaine says dumbly, chest still heaving. “Wrong brat.”

“Dude. What the fuck.”

Blaine’s head swings toward Don. E, who stands facing them, frozen. His face oscillates between shock and disbelief.

Mortification swamps him, the last of the rage receding. Blaine eases the petite woman down from his thigh until her feet hit the floor, and then he lets go of the handful of Darcy’s hair that he’s still clutching, smoothing it with a few awkward pats as she sways on her feet and smiles dazedly. He takes a slow step back.

“I, uh—”

The frozen silence is broken by Kitty’s astonished voice from the bar.

“What the hell is going on?”

Blaine’s head whips to the right, where he sees her at the closest end of the bar, her eyes twice as wide as Don’s, a bottle held aloft.

Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

Blaine clears his throat, straightens his suit jacket, and waves a dismissive hand at her. He tries his damnedest to put a firmness in his voice that he absolutely doesn’t feel. “Nothing to see here. Just, uh, new employee appreciation.” He turns back to Darcy, who has sagged back against the door, still looking as though she’s been hit by some unexpected natural disaster. He picks up her hand and pumps it overzealously. “Welcome to the team.”

Darcy swoons. Don E is there to catch her, and as he carries his wife to a nearby table in the bar area, Blaine takes the chance to slip backward into his office, close the door, and lock it.

As Blaine sinks down into his desk chair, a last quote comes to him—appropriate to his current faux pas. He says it to the empty room, a mirthless chuckle rolling up as he buries his head in his hands.

“Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.”

Blaine wonders how he’s ever going to show his face in his own bar again.

Find me at AO3 for more Blaine x Kitty fun in the motherfic of this one-shot (Lay You in the Ground) Here. Thank you for reading! <3

[peridotglimmer]

Kinktober 2023 Masterpost

31 ficlets with 31 different ships

The full series can be found here!

Day 1: Collars - False/Cleo (Hermitcraft) | Decoration

Day 2: Clothed Sex - Diana/47 (Hitman) | Close Quarters

Day 3: Choking - Wyatt/Emma (Timeless) | Insufferable

Day 4: Desk Sex - Cameron/House (House M.D.) | By Reason of Insanity

Day 5: Bathing - Chloe/Nadine (Uncharted) | Reën in die Klein Karoo

Day 6: Pegging - Evil X/Cleo (Hermitcraft) | Repent

Day 7: Praise Kink - Evie/Élise (AC: Syndicate & AC: Unity) | Rules

Day 8: Lingerie - Bridget/Vera (Wentworth) | Coming Home to You

Day 9: Wall Sex - Beckett/Castle (Castle) | Blame It on the Hormones

Day 10: Coming Untouched - Pia Douwes/Uwe Kröger (Musical Theatre RPF) | Transition #1 [Note: written in German!]

Day 11: Breeding Kink - False/Pearl/Cleo (Hermitcraft) | When You Came In (The Air Went Out)

Day 12: Blow Jobs - Peyton/Blaine (iZombie) | Silence Is Golden

Day 13: Sixty-Nine - Loba/Valkyrie (Apex Legends) | Attention Management

Day 14: Ropes - Mirage/Wraith (Apex Legends) | Scout's Honour

Day 15: Voyeurism - Etho/Cleo (Limited Life SMP) | Respite

Day 16: Mirror Sex - Diana/Lucas (Hitman) | Change of Scenery

Day 17: Forced Orgasms - Xisuma/Keralis (Hermitcraft) | Entertainment

Day 18: Multiple Orgasms - False/Everyone (Hermitcraft) | for the sake of good times

Day 19: Stripping - Addison/Callie (Grey's Anatomy) | Sharing Is Caring

Day 20: Frottage - Becky/Felicity (Hidden Agenda) | Alive

Day 21: Somnophilia - House/Cuddy (House M.D.) | Good Morning Sunshine

[themomsandthecity]

Bryce, Jordan, Jude, and 200+ More of the Best Gender Neutral Baby Names

There are plenty of reasons you might want a shortlist of gender neutral baby names. For instance, if you're not finding out the gender of your baby before their born, but you want to have a name decided on ahead of time - picking a name that works for any gender is the perfect solve. Or maybe you just prefer gender neutral names to baby names that are more traditionally masculine or feminine (although, of course, we love using a baby boy name for girls!) Gender neutral baby names cut across categories. You can find gender neutral names amongst Victorian-era baby names, trendy names, and more unique picks, which means you can find the perfect gender neutral baby name no matter what "vibe" of name you're going for. And to get your creativity going, we rounded up more than 200 unisex names that will suit your baby no matter what. Ahead, find some of our favorite gender-neutral names for babies, from A to Z. A * Adair * Adan * Addison * Ade * Adrian * Aiden * Ainsley * Alby * Alex * Ali * Amari * Andy * Angel * Ari * Ariel * Aries * Ash * Asher * Aspen * Atlas * Aubrey * August * Austen * Avery * B * Baker * Bailey * Bali * Banks * Bellamy * Beckham * Berkeley * Billie * Blaine * Blair * Blake * Bobby * Bowen * Brett * Briar * Brighton * Briley * Brinley * Brooklyn * Bryce * C * Caelan * Cairo * Camden * Cameron * Campbell * Carey * Carson * Carter * Casey * Cassidy * Celyn * Chandler * Charlie * Chris * Cody * Colby * Cole * Collins * Corey * Cove * D * Dakota * Dale * Dallas * Dana * Dane * Darryl * Declan * Delta * Devin * Dorian * Drew * Dylan * E * Easton * Eli * Elliot * Ellis * Ellison * Ember * Emerson * Emory * Evan * Ezra * F * Fallon * Finley * Florian * Flynn * Frances * Frankie * G * Gabriel * Gale * Glenn * Grayson * Grey * H * Harley * Harper * Hayden * Hunter * I * Indiana * Indigo * J * James * Jamie * Jayden * Jaylen * Jesse * Jordan * Jude * Julian * Juniper * Justice * K * Kaden, * Kai * Keegan * Kelly * Kendall * Kennedy * Kerry * Knox * Kyle * L * Lake * Landon * Landry * Lane * Lee * Lennon * Lennox * Lincoln * Linden * Logan * London * Lou * Lucian * Lumi * M * Mackenzie * Madison * Marley * Mason * Max * Maxwell * Micah * Milan * Mina * Monroe * Montana * Morgan * N * Nash * Nevada * Nico * Noah * Noel * O * Oakley * Ollie * Ore * Ozzie * P * Palmer * Paris * Parker * Pat * Perri * Peyton * Piper * Phoenix * Q * Quinn * R * Reagan * Reed * Reese * Reign * Remy * Rey * Riley * River * Roan * Robin * Rory * Roux * Rowan * Royal * Rudy * Ryan * Ryder * Rylan * S * Sage * Salem * Sam * Santana * Sawyer * Saylor * Scout * Seven * Shannon * Shawn * Shiloh * Skylar * Sloane * Spencer * Sterling * Stevie * Sunny * Sydney * T * Tanner * Tatum * Taylor * Terry * Theo * Tony * Tory * Tracy * Tyler * U * Umber * Unique * Uri * V * Val * Vesper * * W * Wallace * West * Winter * Wrennyn * Wyatt * Wynne * X * Xoan * Y * Yael * Z * Zion https://www.popsugar.com/family/Gender-Neutral-Baby-Names-34485564?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

[olive-garden-hoe]

Rewatching it now, loving Liv x Peyton but strangely I really am interested by Blaine x Ravi bc they’re just so different and I kinda love both of ‘em so why not put them together you know?

What your izombie ship says about you:

Major X Ravi - based

Liv X Major - YA BASIC. You're a coward Rob Thomas. 5 seasons telling us that people grow and change and that's okay FOR WHAT. FOR WHAT, ROB THOMAS. Anger. That's all.

Liv X Peyton - how's it feel to be the smartest person here

Peyton X Ravi - yeah it's canon but if it ain't broke don't fix it, you're valid as hell and so are Ravi and Peyton

Clive X Bozzio - same as above but I'm crying because just the thought of them has me tears

Clive X Liv - idk man it's weird to me but not weird enough for me to stop you so idk thumbs up emoji ig

Liv X Ravi - you should leave. They're besties don't you know. And you've offended me and my grandmother. And she hasn't even seen izombie. And she's still upset. It's ok grandma.

Peyton X Blaine - aus only. He blew it, deal with it.

Liv X Blaine - are we even watching the same show?? You're insane and I hate you.

Blaine X Don E - if you didn't I would ask "are we even watching the same show?? You're insane and I hate you.", but you do, so congrats on having eyes

Chase X anyone - *sips wine* I'll allow it. He deserves it.

Enzo X anyone - you and me are best friends now I love you you're invited to my wedding you will be my children's godparent can we hold hands

[blasphoeme]

We weren’t the only ones who noticed that Blaine still longs for Peyton ;)

This was from a recap of the premiere by TvLine.

And THIS was from tvfanatic’s list of highlights from the premiere :) 

I like how they say that his longing looks were hard to ignore. It’s too obvious to ignore haha XD. Blaine really does still care for Peyton. Here’s hoping we get more of Bleyton moments this season! *fingers crossed*

[layeredsocks-blog]

It was Valentine’s Day, not that Peyton was going to be celebrating it. At least, not in the “traditional” way. She had chocolates and a bottle of wine, but she bought them for herself. When she got home, she was going to watch a movie. But it was going to be full of action, with the only romance a subplot.

She was picking up the mail when she noticed the CD. It wasn’t wrapped, but there was a card lying underneath it. She opened that first.

“Hope this makes your day. And if it doesn’t, it’s still good music.” He didn’t sign it, but he didn’t need to-- Peyton recognized Blaine’s handwriting. And she wasn’t at all surprised he would make her a mixed tape.

She should just toss it. They weren’t together anymore. But curiosity got the best of her and she popped it into the player. The first song came up and she froze, mouth dropping open.

It wasn’t a love song. It was a score from North By Northwest. She went to the player and skipped to the next track. A few notes in was all she needed, then she moved on. Every song on the CD was from a Hitchcock film.

Peyton had gotten tons of Valentine’s Day gifts in the past. But this, from Blaine... She was a mix of emotions, but she could think of one appropriate response.

She sent him tequila, with a note that read simply: “You still don’t want to know. P”.

[sofiaherzen]

[waytoomanyhobbies]

you!!!!!!!! you’re sfdoll on ao3??? I love your fics I reread them every once in a while when I’m in the mood for a good iZombie fic. you’re so good at writing Peyton and blaine!

Yep, that's me. Thank you so much!!! I'm really happy that you enjoy the fics. I still love Peyton and Blaine. They've always had an incredible dynamic and so many stories you could explore with them.

[maagicmiss]

My first drawing of Blaine *•* I am a little proud of it !

💕💕 Pliz, ne le reproduisez pas pour votre intérêt et citez moi 💕💕

[careless-with-your-heart]

* WIP * Ch. 10 - Lay You in the Ground (Am iZombie/Blaine x OC AU Fanfic)

Something’s wrong with Blaine—she can tell it in the tension in his shoulders, in the way his smile never quite reaches his eyes the whole night. He stays behind the bar with her, something he hasn’t done in weeks, and Kitty catches him watching her if a customer leans in to be heard over the music, definitely catches the anxious look on his face when she slips back to the walk-in to switch out a keg.

It's Ravi who brings it up, though, giving voice to Kitty’s low-simmering level of concern. As she slides an apple martini across the bar to him, he ducks close.

“Zombody is on edge tonight, innhe?”

Kitty’s gaze flicks over to Blaine, who is, at the moment, distracted by another customer. She leans on her elbows on the bar top, scrunching her nose at the man across from her. “He is. I don’t know why. I was going to ask you guys…figured maybe something he talked to you or Major about?”

Ravi shakes his head, squinting over at Blaine. “Nah. In fact, he put Clive off on an invite out afterhours tonight. There’s this place—roving hookah lounge. Pops up in a different place every weekend, somewhere in town. Very mellow. Food trucks swarm wherever it lands. The crew thought a wind-down would be nice after you two were off, Post closed up. A little peach tobacco and some carne asada fries.”

Kitty blanches at the thought of that particular combination. She can tell from the flush on the tall doctor’s face that he probably won’t make it to after-hours. The soft, slurred edges of his words are a fairly strong indicator, too.

He grins. “Maybe the waffle truck will be there. Or that curry fusion one. Anyway, me and Peyton, Liv and Major, and you…and Blaine?” Ravi’s eyebrows dance up and down his forehead in a way that is both suggestive and annoying.

“You’re as subtle as hot sauce on vanilla ice cream, my friend,” she quips. “Do they have that fusion at your little hipster pop-up?”

Ravi slaps the bar top. “Come on. Wouldn’t be as fun without you two. Don’t make it an awkward double date with Liv and Major. Things are so weird with them right now. And Don and Darcy are having a date night, apparently.”

“Mmmm,” she says, nodding. “That’s what Blaine said. But he neglected to explain the reason that he swapped shifts with Don.”

“He just wants to be near you, Manky Cat,” Ravi croons, propping his chin in one hand and batting his lashes.

“I will cut you off, Dr. Frankenstein. I have the power. No more booze.”

Mock-offended, Ravi snatches up the apple martini and swigs it down in three, swift gulps.

“I thought that was for Peyton!”

Ravi burps as he clinks the glass back down. “I thought you were cooler and that you would go with your friends to a hipster pop-up.”

“Ask Blaine, you animal.” She’s laughing now, her anxiety over Blaine’s odd mood nearly forgotten in the spectacle of Ravi’s tipsy antics.

“Ask me what?”

Ah, yes—that silky voice that somehow manages to sound, even over the pulse of the music, like it’s only for her ears. As if it’s not unnerving enough that he’s hovering behind her, so close that she can feel his words on her neck—hair up tonight, not because he’s asked, but because she knows he likes it that way with this dress—she's suddenly aware of his hand curving over her hip. Asserting a slight pressure. He presses to her back, and she can feel the hard lines of his chest through his thin linen shirt, against the open back of her dress.

God, she has never felt so physically unnerved by someone in her entire life. Or suspicious of someone. It’s an exhausting metronome.

“Waffles?” Ravi says, and then, he wobbles on his feet.

Blaine’s laughter is another wash of warmth against her bare nape.

“Did you cut him off?” Blaine asks lowly. He’s making slow circles with his thumb against the satin at her hip.

Kitty crosses her arms over her chest. "I did."

Another laugh, low and even closer. "Good girl. He looks like an oak about to topple."

Good girl? It’s suddenly, entirely too hot in The Post. Besides that, the whole thumb business is making her breath hitch.

And then, as if on cue, Ravi grins widely, pivots halfway toward the main bar, and promptly passes out.

(Full Chapter Coming SOON!)

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

King And Queen Of The Weekend, Chapter 2: Time We Danced With The Truth

Peyton x Blaine, post-“Some Like It Hot Mess.” Part angsty fix-it-fic, part smut, with just a dash of songfic along the way for flavor. A plot bunny that would not be denied, this was heavily inspired by Lorde’s Melodrama, especially “Sober.” 

Summary: Blaine’s turn. What happens when you and your ex both decide to drown your feelings rather than facing them...in the same bar, with an unoccupied piano? "No matter what can be said about the wasted potential that is Blaine Debeers, he is not and will never be exactly like his father, because the old man would never sidle up to a piano in a dive bar and start playing quietly for his own entertainment.”

Cross-posted on AO3; fun with tags + more notes can be found there.

“So even if I faked losing my memory, you wouldn’t be a little mad?”

“I don’t know. I’m just–I’m so happy right now.”

“I have good news. Major is going to get his memory back…and the good news doesn’t stop there. This is me. This version of me, small business owner, amateur lounge singer, guy that feels lucky every time you walk through that door.”

—-

Blaine keeps moving, on autopilot. What other choice does he have? The show must go on, right? He quits playing piano, though, when the customers complain. They want more upbeat music and he just…doesn’t care. He’s tired of faking it. Hello irony, oldest of friends.

It’s the brain biz instead, again. Scheming and clawing his way back to being king of the hill is what comes naturally, so that’s what he does, burying his feelings.

He’s a villain; they’re not supposed to have feelings anyway. Idiotic to have let himself believe otherwise.

Branching out suppliers while he tests the blue juice leads him south to a small town for the weekend. He could’ve sent Don E., but he wanted the distance. The time. Once business is concluded, he heads straight for a bottle.

The town’s only bar was easier to find than a solitary bottle of Jack, so he settles in a corner, sulking over his whiskey while the entire place seems to be filled with couples.

They kiss, they cuddle, they share shots like the world might end tomorrow–little do they know–and they’re everywhere, physical reminders that against all odds, he actually got the girl, only to lose her again.

Technically, he remembers, he’s lost her twice now. That’s when he decides this particular establishment isn’t doing him any favors and gets up to leave…until he sees the piano.

Much like a beautiful woman, he’s always had a hard time resisting the lure of a piano. His father disapproved of such a sentimental pastime, but his mother–and then grandfather–encouraged the lessons, and eventually, every session of putting his fingers to the keys felt like fighting back.

It still does, bringing solace along with the bittersweet memories of his mother’s hands on his and his grandfather teaching him old Irish ballads. No matter what can be said about the wasted potential that is Blaine Debeers, he is not and will never be exactly like his father, because the old man would never sidle up to a piano in a dive bar and start playing quietly for his own entertainment.

“Love and other moments are just chemical reactions in your brain, in your brain...and feelings of aggression are the absence of the love drug in your veins, in your veins...”

As song choices go, it’s a bit on the nose, but he’s half-drunk and moping over Peyton, much as he wishes he wasn’t, and it’s what comes to mind. Along with it comes more moping, because he came here to forget–but he can't.

She sparkled.

That was the thing about Peyton that had first tugged at him. From the beginning, underneath her professional demeanor and through all the dark, dismal events to follow, she glowed in a way that made him want to be near her.

If he simply wanted sex and conversation he could find a beautiful woman in a bar somewhere, without getting mixed up with the ADA whose help was crucial to his plan. Slipping her his card was as practical as it was invitational, given how well he knew Mr. Boss and the danger she was courting. Against his own interests, he cared that she might get hurt because of her involvement in this scheme of his.

He never thought she'd invite him to stick around after work, as it were, to get a little sloppy on fine whiskey and do very little talking. All he’d really wanted was a little flirtation and to get rid of Mr. Boss. But when he laid out the map for her and connected the dots, she just lit up at him and took his breath away.

That was unexpected.

She made him a little tongue-tied, awkward, slightly off his game. He had better lines, smoother moves, but facing her, he was more the teenage loser of his youth than the suave king he’d remade himself to be.

The worst part was, he liked it.

“Love come quickly, because I feel my self-esteem is caving in, it’s on the brink...”

Had anybody ever come so close to sweeping him off his feet? It was a silly thought for someone who’d made a name for himself as a killer and drug dealer, but Peyton just had this way about her, part warrior queen, part soft and warm and vulnerable. The way she entered an interrogation room and demanded his release, as though anyone she came into contact with should be expected to do nothing less than exactly what she commanded.

Maybe it was a lawyer thing; he wouldn’t know. But it was hot.

And though he’d never admit it to anyone, she tunneled right into his weak spot. All he’d managed to make of himself, out of his personal hell growing up, was a cliche. The poor little rich boy, the failed entrepreneur…the thief who barely managed to graduate to drug dealer on somebody else’s turf. Once his grandfather was locked up, long after his own mother didn’t think he was worth living for, Blaine just didn’t see the point. Survival he was good at, but believing he was worth something? He'd left that behind as soon as he was old enough to understand how much his own father hated him.

Peyton was the first person to try and protect him, to stand up for him, since he was a child. It was the strangest feeling, but not unwelcome. Instead it was terrifying, because he wanted to lean into it, accept it. Her hand on his back as she ordered his father to leave, snapping at Ravi and choosing him over Major, welcoming him into their home when she knew Liv wouldn’t.

Not to mention, how she exuded cool with her shields up, so different from the woman he’d parted ways with who’d still been flush and warm and relaxed from their spontaneous encounter in her office. It should have been awkward, when they pulled back and tugged their clothes into place and she smoothed down her couch cushions, but it wasn’t.

She had grinned at him, seeming totally at ease, possibly the most confidently sexy woman he’d ever met, and asked flippantly, “Catch you later?”

Her grin was contagious. “Well,” he’d replied, “I do have a previously scheduled appointment to go over evidence with this smokin’ hot attorney. Maybe we could hook up after that?”

“Sounds good.” She linked her arms behind his neck, leaning in for a long, slow kiss. “Tell me more about this attorney.”

“Hmm…” He let his gaze wander down her body and back up to her deep hazel eyes. “Well, she’s gorgeous, and smart, and brave...”

Peyton interrupted him. “Brave?”

“Definitely. Not just anybody would take on Mr. Boss, let alone face him solo in her office without caving in to the fear. He threatened you,” Blaine reminded her gently. “And you stuck.”

She shrugged. “It’s my job. I’m good at it.”

“That’s kinda my point. But it’s more than that. You’re in it for more than the title and salary. I can tell. You really want to get him–just for what he does to this fair city of ours. That’s an admirable quality.”

“Well, we share it.” She gestured at her outfit. “So. Do I look like someone who just had sex on government property?”

“Huh. Presuming I know what that looks like,” Blaine replied, “no. I think you’re good to go.”

Nodding, Peyton stepped back toward him for one last kiss. “Then I’ll see you around.”

“Love come quickly, because I don’t think I can keep this monster in, it’s in my skin...”

He almost went for it that night on the couch. He almost couldn’t help himself, his hands full of Peyton and everything he secretly wanted most beneath his new persona. He couldn’t do it, of course–what if she regretted it? he knew he would regret it–but he almost did before he managed to pull back.

He wasn’t exactly known for his impulse control, before her. But he really did want to be better. Worthy of her company, let alone her affection. Worth that smile she shot his way that warmed the darker parts of his soul.

She made him feel poetic.

There was nothing he could do about how damaged he was long before they ever met, or what he did before and after becoming a zombie. But he was just a man now, and he wanted a real chance with her. So he stopped it.

He spent the night tossing and turning on the couch, cold without her, and wishing he’d never lied in the first place.

“Love and other socially acceptable emotions are morphine, they’re morphine, cleverly concealing primal urges often felt but rarely seen, rarely seen...”

When she took his hand the next morning, and led him to her room, he couldn’t believe it. And he didn’t try to stop it. She chose him, knowing his past, knowing the new man he was trying so hard to be–her hands were in his hair, her lips were parted against his, and they were kissing in the muted daylight where it felt like a dream.

He didn’t ever want to wake up.

His old life and the new one where she treated him like a decent guy who she was interested in were worlds apart. Despite her best friend being a zombie, Peyton had managed to stay surprisingly untouched by the violence surrounding her. She fought the seedy underbelly of the city…and he belonged in it.

But not anymore. He’d gotten his second chance, and he was determined to keep earning it, every day with her. Standing in her sunny bedroom, he lifted her shirt up, letting his fingers trace her skin as it was exposed. She stretched into his touch and he wondered if she did yoga, then refused to get distracted by how sexy the idea of her doing yoga was.

He was such a lost cause when it comes to Peyton Charles, it was ridiculous.

Unlike the last time, Blaine didn’t ask if she was sure, because he knew her well enough to know that this wouldn’t be happening if she weren’t. Instead, he indulged, the way they didn’t during their fateful one-night stand, when things were too new and frantic and fueled by the risk of getting caught at any moment.

Now, he could take full advantage of the light warming her bronze skin, drinking in his fill of how she looked in her bra and soft cotton pjs, before he slid those down her endlessly long legs and followed them with kisses.

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

She was so beautifully responsive, angling toward his every touch, humming her appreciation. It made him want to stay with her for days, finding every sensitive spot and claiming it for himself.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she breathed back.

Peyton was already exploring him in return, dispatching his t-shirt and running her hands over his chest, leaning in toward him as her hands drifted lower.

Their lips met with excruciating slowness, neither of them rushing toward the bed. He traced her lips with his tongue, and when they parted she sighed. Then their tongues met eagerly while his fingers roamed down her back to caress her ass.

Her hand grazed him through his boxers and he jolted, growling against her mouth, their kisses growing more passionate. With an easy flick of his fingers, Blaine opened the front clasp of her bra and slid the straps off each shoulder.

They finally began inching toward the bed, still linked at the lips, her hands in his hair as the full length of her pressed against him. He kneeled next to her when they landed, running his hands over her chest and following his fingertips with his mouth.

Peyton moaned when he tugged lightly on one nipple and circled it with his tongue. He was stroking the other with his fingertips, shifting his legs so that one was between her knees and pressing against her. She rocked against him a little as their lips met and parted, breath growing thick and more desperate.

Her hands gripped his back, digging in as he continued to explore her, running his tongue along the crease of soft skin beneath her breast, then blowing lightly on her nipple before taking it back into his mouth.

Her hands moved up to his neck, running through his hair until he ceded control of the kiss to her, and she left him panting for breath. Then she was gripping his shoulders as his mouth found the curve of her neck and lingered there, leaving behind the faintest of marks.

She arched up toward him, nails digging into his skin, and he moved over, making room to slide down and let his mouth journey south. His lips left a heated trail down her taut stomach and over to her hip, where he planted a firm kiss that made her shiver.

Peyton released her grip on him and reached out to run her fingers along the waistline of his shorts. With her eyes closed, she waited until he leveraged himself up and then she tugged them off. He kicked them away, sucking in air as her hands found him and caressed the sensitive skin beneath his balls.

Blaine teased his fingers along the edge of her satin thong, then slid it aside to circle her clit with his fingers. Peyton started to shift along with his movements, quaking against the sheets.

“Oh, God. Blaine,” she murmured, taking him in her hand and stroking. His fingers kept moving against her until he was hard and ready, and their mouths clashed as he lifted himself.

She was wet and hot when he slid into her, and he found himself whispering endearments in her ear, just like the last time.

They moved together with an easy familiarity that didn’t make sense for only their second time, but he didn’t question it, straining with her toward their lush, convulsive peak. To Blaine, she felt like coming home.

“Love I beg you, lift me up into that privileged point of view, the world of two...”

Nothing she said was wrong. He was selfish, and greedy…and sad, most of all. He was angry at her for the way she tricked him into confessing–lied to him, led him into a trap–but he couldn’t muster up much enthusiasm for it, because he'd done far worse. And she was right.

He hadn’t been thinking about her friends, or making a fool of her, when his memories came back and he pretended they hadn’t. He’d been thinking about himself, which, once he had his memories back, he knew was what he always did. How he’d always been, before.

It took everything he had not to chase after her. Not to go looking, to make his case, the way he might with anybody else. But this was Peyton, who won arguments for a living, and he knew it would just make things worse. So he covered up the wound with jokes and business and liquor and tried to move on.

“Love don’t leave me, because I console myself that Hallmark cards are true, I really do...”

The liquor isn’t helping much. It never really does. Must be the Irish in him; drinking just makes him maudlin.

He sips again anyway, because he’s here and has nothing better to do, closing his eyes and remembering the way Peyton leaned back that first night, her skirt shifting and catching his attention when she crossed her legs. Her voice was sultry between sips, inviting--more intoxicating than the alcohol.

He’s not sure which is more of a tragedy, the fact that getting his memories back means he lost her, or the fact that having them means he remembers so clearly what he’s lost.

Putting his own flourish on the melody with one hand and sipping with the other, he catches movement in his peripheral vision that makes him dizzy.

He must be more drunk than he realizes, Blaine thinks, if he’s starting to hallucinate. This one isn’t exactly the way he would’ve imagined it, if he had a choice in hallucinations…which is how he knows he’s not that drunk.

Peyton’s come back to him, in all her fierce and shining glory–but she doesn’t look happy to see him. In fact, she seems just as stunned as he is, striding toward him with an accusatory finger outstretched.

He can’t help leaning into the chorus as their eyes meet, as she approaches without hesitation and all he can feel is the dull ache of missing her.

“I’m gunning down romance…it never did a thing for me, but heartache and misery—ain’t nothing but a tragedy.”

She carries herself like a fighter ready for the next round, despite her slightly glassy eyes and the tequila on her breath. If this is Peyton Charles on tequila, no wonder she wouldn’t tell him about it that first night.

She raises her voice over the piano he’s still playing, heedless of the heads that turn their way.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

[zodiyack]

iZombie Masterlist

(updated per upload)

Back to Masterlist

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Taglist(s)

★ = smut

⋆ = presmut

�� = fluff

☁ = angst

☠ = death

Blaine McDonough

Chat Thingies (Random Cute Stuff) ~

Random iZombie x Reader Stuffs

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Be My Sleepy Valentine ♡

Valentines Day special! Enjoy, my lovlies!

Donald Eberhard

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Zombie Life ♡

(Request) Y/n is a new zombie and Don E’s girlfriend. She has a small problem with letting people into her life but a soft moment shows Don E that he’s making progress.

Olivia Moore

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Vampire Steve

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Ravi Chakrabarti

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Major Lilywhite

Chat Thingies (Random Cute Stuff) ~ 

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Peyton Charles

(No fics yet, but feel free to request whenever requests happen to be open!)

Enzo Lambert

Chat Thingies (Random Cute Stuff) ~

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Chase Graves

Chat Thingies (Random Cute Stuff) ~ 

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Lowell Tracy

(No fics yet, but feel free to request whenever requests happen to be open!)