#peyton-shades

[soultea]

The progresion of power in iZombie is insane.

Like by the end of the show you basically have 6 people running the whole city and they're all besties who probably have a group chat where they discuss how to respond to major world events the way my friends and I talk about planning to go out for drinks.

Think about it you have the woman who runs the largest human smuggling operation in Seattle (who also happens to be one of the only survivors of the original boat party incident that started all of this), her best friend the acting mayor of Seattle, her ex fiance the commander of the private military group that controls the city, her other best friend the creator of the only zombie cure and leader in the field of zombie biology, Clive, and Clive's wife who is the chief of police in charge of all non-zombie crimes in the city.

They're even on a first name basis with the biggest crime lord in Seattle that currently runs three of the most popular zombie hot spots and is in charge of the entire brain trade in and out of the city. Like even if they hate him, they could show up at his place and not get kicked out.

And they use that. The characters actually like each other and talk to each other and fix problems by supporting each other. What other show out there was ever doing it like iZombie?? Rest In Peace bro, you were real for that and you deserved so much more love.

[pey-up]

i got sad and drew ME doing me things

[gayartz69]

Women are quite difficult to draw 😅

[toescratches]

The Sinclair brothers have work to do. A couple of tourists adventure into town. But unfortunately after they've been hunted down and cleaned up, the brothers come across more work and more problems. That being the now abandoned baby in the car.

Tw: Bo is Bo, they're slashers what do you expect, they won't kill the baby obv, the baby is a girl or AFAB, Vincent is here 😱, Lester mentioned, they're conflicted, sorry this is short

tags for ppl who asked for pt2: @peyton-peyton @alicesinclair29 @wheresmyson @wildaces @santa-carla-boardwalk-1987 @blurrymango @sketchy-rosewitch @small-sinclair @hidingfromtex @kitty11sstuffig

—————————————————————————

Bo grunts in annoyance as he continues to drag the heavy carrier, along with him up the hill. He takes heavy breaths at the heat and at the extra weight he is carrying with him.

As Bo finally arrives at the steps of the House of Wax, he puts down the carrier, in the shade, and pants as he tries to catch his breath.

Fucking finally he thinks. Bo opens the door for the musem and picks up the carrier. He looks down at the baby. She looks up at him with curiosity and confusion. Bo scoffs and averts his gaze back to the entrance.

Finally he walks inside the museum. "Vincent!! Come out!" Bo yells and groans in annoyance. He sets the carrier on the floor and walks to the other side of the house, to Vincent's cave.

Bo is taken by surprise when his brother emerges up the stairs. "Took you long enough..." He groans under his breath.

Vincent looks up at Bo with a buzzled look in his eye and gesture for an explanation for his yelling.

Bo groans in annoyance, turns and walks back to the carrier in the hall. Vincent tilts his head in confusion but follows his brother.

As soon as Vincent sees what Bo had dragged into the museum, he freezes. What the hell?!

Bo looks down at the baby in the carrier, with his back to Vincent, waiting for his reaction.

Vincent walks around, trying to gather himself and his thoughts. This can't be real. Is all he can think.

The older twin puts his hands into his pockets and sways on his feet. Bo's face is no longer filled with confusion and panic. It's not only frustration, annoyance and curiosity. The baby keeps making quiet noises of coo's and weakly reaches it's hands up to the man above her.

Bo tilts his head as he stares at the child. In the background, behind him, he hears the sounds of Vincent's shuffling feet and his groans of distress.

Bo fights something inside him as he looks down at the child. Eventually he seems to lose this fight as he crouches down and begins to take the baby out of the carrier.

Vincent turns his head at the sound of unbuckling and looks at Bo with confusion. He quickly realizes what his brother is doing, and walks up to his brother to protest.

Vincent desperately grabs onto his brothers shirt and tries to pull him up, and away from the carrier with the baby girl. Bo groans in annoyance and pulls away from his brother's grip. He turns back to look at the child and finally picks it up. Bo holds her in against his chest with a causios and nervous hold, no wonder since he has no idea what he is doing.

Vincent circles his brother and tries to make non-verbal signs to his older brother, to please put the child down and walk away. Bo keep ignoring him as he tries to get a comfortable and a firm, but gentle, grip on the girl.

Vincent whines in distress and desperation as he looks at his brother and turns around with a groan of frustration. Why?! God damnit! Vincent hold his head in his hands as he wanders around.

Bo seems to be unmoved by this as he keeps his attention on the baby girl in his arms.

"Hey, baby... What's your name...?" He whispers with a awkward tone. He is clearly slightly uncomfortable, but tries his best.

The baby only responds with cooing and stares. Bo chuckles at this and lightly bounces the baby in his hold.

Bo keeps the slight smirk on his face as he hears Vincent approaching from behind. His brother walks next to him, and quietly stares.

The black haired(emo) man taps his brothers shoulder, trying to get his attention. Bo turns his head and looks at Vincent with a questioning expression, waiting for him to act.

Vincent begins to sign to his brother. What the hell are you planning?!

Bo chuckles. "C'mon what's up your ass? It's not that big of a deal."

Not that big of a deal?!! It's a baby!! He quickly and dramatically answers.

"Yeah I know that, you shithead!" Bo groans. "I won't make her your problem, okay?! We won't kill a baby... And she's quite quiet, no?" He chuckles.

Vincent groans and lets out a big sigh of frustration. You're acting impulsively! Stop being dumb! We can't take care of a baby!!

Bo rolls his eyes and turns to look back at the baby. "I or Lester will go to the city and buy some shit! It's not that difficult! And think about it, we won't have anyone looking after the town, Mama's town, after we die or get killed!" He tries to reason with his brother.

Vincent sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. I still can't believe this is happening... He sighs with one hand to his brother.

"Let it be already. We'll handle it, and if not us them I will!" Bo grunts and gently bounces the baby around in his arms while looking down at her.—————————————————————————

PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN THE FUTURE!!

Sorry this is so short, I'm such a lazy and slow writer and I felt like I had to upload today!

Critism is appreciated!

[brightlotusmoon]

From Doxie Simone on Facebook:

"You make fun of ONE non-binary person, and here come Basil, Moonshadow, Sock, Plum, Fang, Tofu, Crow, Patchouli, Cupid, Shade, Snow, Flannel, Brick, Daffodil, Quinn, Wildflower, Leaf, Lichen, October, Ink, September, Clover, August, Bone, Driftwood, Bread, Aspen, Spirit, Jasper, Lightbulb, Glitter, Tuna, Nebula, Zamboni, Cloud, Pickle, Starlight, Pancake, Jellybean, Twister, Toothbrush, Denim, Lava Lamp, Moonbeam, Disco, Apricot, Banjo, Fork, Sock Puppet, Fern, Ghost, Dune, River, Galaxy, Fig, Echo, Storm, Velvet, Rain, Phoenix, Stone, Feather, Indigo, Moss, Bunni, Ember, Ocean, Paperclip, Lotus, Birch, Compass, Button, Marshmallow, Cactus, Comet, Skye, Lavender, Cedar, Thorn, Breeze, Astral, Beer, Cricket, Horizon, Marble, Canyon, Timber, Shadow, Prism, Link, Willow, Fable, Solstice, Haze, Orbit, Bubbles, Trinket, Sapphire, Jayson, River, Skyler, Rowan, Taylor, Finley, Casey, Morgan, Avery, Reese, Harper, Charlie, Sage, Quinn, Alex, Riley, Jordan, Cameron, Dakota, Ellis, Bailey, Parker, Emery, Peyton, Blake, Drew, Avery, Logan, Devon, Jamie, Ashton, Kendall, Hayden, Blake, Jules, Tegan, Cassidy, Marley, Blair, Micah, Sam, Kai, Sawyer, Lennon, Sky, Dakota, Elliot, Lane, Arden, Ezra, Spencer, Emerson, Jude, Kieran, Harper, Ryan, Bailey, Brooks, Sage, Riley, Avery, Jude, Taylor, Avery, Sam, Logan, Alex, Kai, Quinn, Rowan, Casey, Alex, Drew, Jordan, Charlie, Reese, Wren, Cameron, Blake, Bailey, River, Skyler, Ashton, Kai, Devon, Elliot, Spencer, Marley, Kendall, Quinn, Taylor, Jordan, Parker, Reese, Hayden, Sage, Sky, Sam, Cameron, Emerson, Logan, Drew, Nimbus, X, Acorn, Sparrow, Rohan, Drift, Tinsel, Frost, Bramble, Ajax, Worm, Kay, Strigoi, Helios, Phalanx, Lee, Leo (short for Leonidas), Drayden, Angel, Alexander, Salem, Athena, Ajax, and HildaOliver, Sunny, Sage, Quasar, Jade, Jude, Bug, Mouse, Toro, Spark, Rocks, Moth, Roan, Sage, Bear, Pill, Banshee, Tooth, Nail, Lumia, Mutt, Rue, Roo, Ru, Rù, Thunder, Pyrite, Petal, Aurora, Lagoon, Pixel, Raven, Zephyr, Moth, Lyric, Wish, Atlas, Charm, Pocket, Lilac, Rune, Vapor, Dusk, Opal, Dusk, Dawn, Autumn, Stream, Halo, Tempest, Mist, Poppy, Gem, Nova, Quest, Dusty, Osprey, Orchid, Jinx, Flare, and Candle to jump you in the Whole Foods alley!"

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

anyway if anyone wants to do something silly and fun and/or enhance my suffering for a mere dollar, over on patreon I'm currently running an election to pick my next monthly romance novel read in which I have literally zero say over the candidates.

patreonites are writing in their own suggestion and democratically voting for each other's books with likes, and at the end of July I'll have no choice but to read whatever polled the best with the people. so if that sounds like a good time to your or you've really been dying to make me read, I don't know, 50 Shades of Grey, or the minotaur milking book, or the furry coding book, or the South Park debate team AU fan fic turned YA novel Both Sides Now by acclaimed lunatic Peyton Thomas, now's your chance!

[dialtonetophat]

Decided to try my new shading methods with Peyton. It isn't great because i finished it in about 30-40 minutes

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

White blossoms - Chapter 8

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

If you like this fic, please remember to reblog so that others may also see it!

Pairing: Melot x OFC (Tamsyn)

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Angst, some more angst. Shenanigans. Historical inaccuracies, probably.

@deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss @geralts-yenn @sillyrabbit81

It was the agonizing pain in your shoulder and leg that awoke you from your slumber, and the scalding heat that soared within your body that prevented you from drifting off again, yet despite your efforts, your eyes did not open. You were only vaguely aware of your surroundings: you were lying on a bed, a blanket draped over the lower half of your body, and two voices in animated conversation relatively close to you. One of these voices belonged to Tristan, the other… your mother. You were home! You had made it! With that realization, there came no triumphant feeling, no sense of victory, or even a glimmer of hope, for the fever surged through your body once again, this time pulling you under and swallowing you into the darkness.

When you regained consciousness, the bickering had stopped, as had the roaring fires that had scorched your body from the inside out. The significant pain in your chest and leg seemed to also have subsided quite a bit, but in no way enough to put you out of your misery completely. The most comforting sensation, however, was the soft, beautiful singing next to you – presumably coming from the same person that pressed something warm and damp to your wounds. The pain it caused made you wince, and your brows draw together in a frown, both form agony and confusion.

Very slowly, you opened your eyes, the light in the room – as dim as it was – uncomfortable at first, to such an extent that it was impossible to see anything for a short while.

“Melot?” That voice. You had dreamt of that voice countless times since you had left, and now you finally heard it again. Tamsyn. There was nothing in that moment that you wanted more than to pick her up and hold her in your arms as you promised her you would never leave her side again – the problem was that you couldn’t seem to move no matter how hard you tried. It took every bit of strength you had in your body to smile as she called your name again, and then your eyelids fell shut again as she continued to tend to your wounds.

“Is he awake?” you heard your mother ask from a corner of the room.

“His eyes were open,” Tamsyn replied, “but only briefly. We should let him rest.” And rest you did, always in your dreams kept company by memories of your soon-to-be wife.

“I am terribly sorry we have to meet like this,” you said, startling her as you came up behind her.

“There is no need to apologize, my lord,” she said timidly, “I understand.” As soon as she moved to curtsy, you placed your finger gently beneath her chin and tilted her head up towards yours.

“Please don’t bow to me,” you spoke softly as you looked into her eyes. They were large, and a stunning shade of brown, you noticed, and they looked absolutely perfect combined with the collection of freckles on her nose and cheeks.

“As you wish, my lord,” she replied. Her words made you sigh, a sound which seemed to instil fear in the young woman.

“Call me Melot,” you asked her, smiling kindly as she repeated your name, her voice trembling slightly as she skipped your title for the first time. After that, neither of you spoke for a while. It felt silly, to stand there and say nothing, but you felt so utterly unsure of what to do, that words eluded you completely.

“Say something, please,” you said after a while, a low chuckle to your voice so as to hide your embarrassment at your inability to keep a conversation with the lady in your company.

“You have a beautiful horse,” Tamsyn blurted out, taken aback by your request. Her remark made you laugh louder, causing her cheeks to turn pink.

“She is, isn’t she,” you replied, happy to engage in whatever conversation that would stave off your nerves at this time.

“Is she yours?” Tamsyn inquired.

“She is,” you said, explaining how you had raised her over the course of the past four years. “Do you ride?”

“Oh, not if I can avoid it,” she said shyly, avoiding your eyes as she confessed: “I’m rather useless at it.”

From that moment on, each conversation you had with her was slightly easier than the one before, and after only a short while, you had found yourself reaching for her hand as you walked through the woods together. You were careful not to be seen, but it turned out to be impossible to hide from your friends – which is why you decided not to try. It took a few weeks of secret meetings before you dared to broach the subject of Tamsyn with your uncle, who at first rejected the notion of your courting a peasant girl wholeheartedly. It wasn’t until, through some fortuitous twist of fate – which, in your life, most often carried the name ‘Beryan’ – Tamsyn had been asked to sing at a feast in the castle, that the king learned of her beauty and talent, and he had granted you his blessing to court the young woman.

That morning you were taking care of some chores around the house that you had fallen behind on as you continued to help Yselle with the injured men. A week had passed since the warriors had returned, but Melot had yet to wake up. A few times he had opened his eyes, or he had moved his fingers slightly as you tended to his wounds, but he was never able to speak or move. The most you had received from him so far was a smile that had cost him more effort than it had been worth. Every day, you saw him twice. His mother still disallowed you access to his chambers for reasons beyond caring for him. It irked you, but only slightly, for as much as you longed to sit by his side all day and care for him, you knew it would be improper for you to do so. Thus, you decided not to push the matter, as lady Rhian was already nearly continuously occupied with the strenuous task of keeping Beryan away from her son. Beryan, on the other hand, grew more agitated about the situation with every passing day, snapping at you every time you visited her to tell her how he was doing.

“I can’t believe she refuses to let me see him for a minute!” she shouted as she paced through the corridor outside his room after having been shown the door for what must be the hundredth time.

“Young lady!” The door opened again, and lady Rhian poked her head around it to glare at Beryan. “I would strongly suggest you mind your manners! Make yourself scarce, now!”

“Can I stand in the doorway?”

“No,” lady Rhian snapped. “I have been far too patient with you, Beryan. Disappear, immediately!” You assured Beryan that Melot was going to be alright; that his wounds were healing nicely, and his temperature had returned to normal. It was strange, offering her this comfort while you yourself dreaded the moment his injuries no longer required you to check on them daily. You were certain lady Rhian would banish you from his quarters the moment your services as a healer were no longer required. As unhappy as you would be about not getting to see him anymore, you knew you would not complain: Melot’s mother was indulging you already, it would be foolish to tempt the fates.

While you worked on cleaning and dressing his wounds, you sang to him, as you always did. So far, he had opened his eyes twice, but neither of those times had he been conscious enough to reply to your or his mother’s queries. Other times, he had been conscious, but too weak or in too much pain to speak. This time, after applying the compress to his leg, you took his hand, softly caressing it as you finished your song.

“Please, continue.” Were you imagining things? Upon looking at Melot’s face, you concluded you must have been. His eyes were closed, and he looked as fast asleep as he had all these days before.

“Tamsyn, please.” This time, you witnessed the movement of his lips, though that did nothing to erase your conviction that you were slowly going mad.

“Did he just speak?” lady Rhian asked as she joined you by Melot’s bed. If she had heard it, too... The chances of you both seeing – or rather, hearing – ghosts were slim.

“I did,” he answered, his eyes still closed. You looked at lady Rhian as you felt Melot’s fingers squeeze your hand lightly. To stay put and not throw your arms around his bare shoulders to pull him close, took every bit of strength you had within you. Instead, you tightened your grip on his hand, gently dragging your thumb over the back of it, as you started singing again. Melot hummed contently, making no further efforts to speak. You watched his face while you sang, your smile widening as his eyes slowly opened.

Your singing continued as you waited for the poultices to do their work. Now that he was awake, taking care of his wounds would likely cause him more pain than it had before, when he had still been unconscious, and you dreaded the moment you would have to salve his injuries.

“God almighty, dear, I shall be glad to call you family,” lady Rhian said softly, putting a hand to the side of her son’s face, her voice breaking as she spoke to him. “My son, I was scared I had lost you for good this time.”

“Only the good die young, mother,” he said, his voice hoarse. Lady Rhian took a cup you knew to be filled with the willow bark infusion you had instructed her to make, and lifted it to his lips. As he swallowed a sip, he grimaced.

“That is absolutely foul,” he groaned.

“Shush, it’s good for you,” you berated him, swatting at the back of his hand.

“God, you women are all the same, aren’t you?” he complained – fruitlessly, of course.

You removed the compresses from his wounds after some time, and as you had expected, he winced and moaned every time you touched him.

“Melot! Stop moving right this moment!” you exclaimed after he had turned away from your touch for the so-manieth time as you tried to apply ointment to his wounds. “You are making this impossible! Stop!”

From the other side of his bed, his mother chuckled softly. “You will make a fine wife, my dear child.”

Melot continued his whining as you finished with his leg, and somehow managed to be even worse about the wound on his chest. Eventually you managed to dress his wound – if it hadn’t hurt him so much, perhaps you would have dragged it out a bit so that you may have had the chance to speak with him for a while longer. You began to gather your things, getting ready to leave, while lady Rhian walked to the door to investigate a noise she heard in the hallway. A noise that turned out to come from Gerant, Elowen and Tristan, who had come to check on Melot. Lady Rhian invited them into the room, and you hoped with all your heart that Beryan couldn’t see it.

“Sit with him while I fetch his uncle,” she said, taking your hand in hers for a moment before disappearing into the corridor.

“Kiss her, you fool!” Gerant hissed after he shut the door behind Melot’s mother and listened for her footsteps to disappear into the distance. Melot tried to get up, but you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back onto his bed, leaning in to kiss him, instead. When your lips touched, something inside of you felt like it was finally home again; as if after many weeks of floating around in the air, your feet touched the ground at last. You heard the door open again and pulled away from Melot abruptly, thinking you were done for. Oh, if the king were to see you like this! Luckily, it wasn’t lady Rhian who had returned with king Marke, but rather Beryan, who had finally been given her chance to sneak into the room to see her friend.

“Mely!” she said – probably without thinking, because Melot scowled at her and Gerant and Tristan snickered.

“Did she just call him Mely?” Tristan asked his friend, who answered his question affirmatively.

“Dear God, you look awful,” she said as she sank to her knees next to the bed.

“You sound surprised,” Melot rasped, his voice as hoarse as before, but now even weaker, signalling that he was growing tired.

“Your mother wouldn’t let me see you,” she explained.

“And I still do not permit it!” Everybody in the room froze as they heard the voice behind them. “You, young lady, cannot be in my son’s bedchamber unattended, especially when he isn’t properly dressed!”

“Mother,” Tristan interjected before anyone else could, “might I call to your attention the fact that you invited Gerant and his wife into the room with us to act as chaperones?” His remark seemed to calm lady Rhian a bit, though she was still fuming at seeing Beryan in the room. Behind her stood king Marke, equally upset at the display before his eyes.

“Get out of here, now, lady Beryan,” he spoke slowly, “and I will tell no one of this. You will not see my nephew again until he is out of this room, understood?” “Yes, your Majesty,” she said timidly as she bowed to the king and hurried out of the room.

[acronym-chaos]

Nigel (Charlie Countryman) ID Pack

[PT: Nigel (Charlie Countryman) ID Pack].

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom. End ID].

Names

[PT: Names].

Alistair, Avery, Barrett, Baxter, Bianca, Blake, Brody, Cameron, Charlotte, Clark, Clive, Conrad, Dakota, Dahlia, Damien, Dane, Donovan, Dorian, Edwin, Elise, Ellis, Emerson, Everett, Felix, Finley, Fiona, Fraser, Garret, Gideon, Grey, Harper, Heath, Iris, Ivan, Ivy, Jarvis, Julia, Julian, Kendrick, Kendall, Knox, Lance, Lennon, Levi, Lila, Lionel, Maddox, Mara, Marlowe, Maxwell, Mia, Mitchell, Morgan, Nico, Olivia, Peyton, Pierce, Quentin, Rafe, Reagan, Reggie, Reed, Remy, Riley, Roman, Ronan, Roy, Ruby, Sawyer, Sienna, Silas, Spencer, Sutton, Tatum, Tate, Tessa, Trevor, Trig, Vaughn, Wade, Weston, Wynn, Zane

Pronouns

[PT: Pronouns].

Bru / Brui / Bruis [Bruise]; Bul / Bullet / Bullets; Cra / Crash / Crashes; Fi / Fight / Fights; For / Force / Forces; Gun / Guns / Guns; Hit / Hits / Hits; Kick / Kicks / Kicks; Knif / Knife / Knives; Powe / Power / Powers; Rag / Rage / Rages; Rush / Rushs / Rushs; Sae / Slash / Slashs; Sho / Shoot / Shoots; Sni / Snipe / Snipes; Stri / Strike / Strikes; Threat / Threats / Threats; Trig / Trigger / Triggers

Titles

[PT: Titles].

An Enforcer of [Pronoun] Will; One of Ruthless Resolve; The Bruiser of the Streets; The One Who Strikes Without Hesitation; The Power Behind the Punch; The Shadow of the Underworld; The Sharp Edge of Danger; The Unstoppable Force; The Wrath Incarnate; The Wielder of Fear; [Pronoun] Who Crushes Opposition; [Pronoun] Who Kills Without Mercy; [Pronoun] Who Walks in Shadows

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom, end ID].

Requested by anon!

Also tagging: @pronoun-arc @id-pack-archive

[enteringdullsville]

“Go to Canvas, they said. It’ll be easy, they said.”

It’s Color Theory Episode 41.

Kung Fu Creature on the Rampage 2

Trivia

This marks the first appearance of Piper since her debut in “Exposition News”, and of Kofi and Peyton overall.

This is the first episode since their debuts Perry and Elroy speak. Elroy has been subtly redesigned since his last appearance in “Apples and Oranges”, his skin now being a paler shade of blue.

This is the first episode where Angie, Chloe, and Perry use their powers offensively. Sylvester’s laser powers and jet boots debut as well. For Angie in particular, the idea of her using her hockey stick as a rifle was one that was planned out a year in advance. Additionally, Perry is revealed to be capable of outright flight.

This is the first episode where Piper’s eyes are open.

Chloe was initially meant to be the title card character; Perry’s first appearance in this comic was initially intended to be the only time we see him. This change will affect his and Chloe’s dynamic going forward.

This was originally planned as a four page comic. The panels of Chloe realizing she accidentally struck Peyton, Perry catching Chloe, and Perry attacking Sylvester were added in later.

Martin was initially supposed to appear, interviewed by Piper at the beginning of the comic. He was dropped entirely due to the events of the previous episode.

This episode sets up the series wide running gags of Kofi working at numerous businesses (look closely at the hand holding the microphone when Elroy’s being interviewed) and Peyton being injured by the aftermath of ICT’s antics.

The title is a direct reference to a gag from Garfield and Friends.

No violet type Drewmans/Claytonians appear, although Violet herself is name dropped.

The penultimate panel of Elroy raging at an absent Violet sets up the next episode.

As of this episode, the video versions are no longer directly attached to the posts and are YouTube exclusive.

[terms-and-conditions-if]

Gabriel Blackwood

Name: Gabriel Blake Blackwood

Age: 40

Appearance: With dark brown hair, that falls in almost messy waves over his forehead, and sharp forest green eyes; Gabriel is quite the sight to behold in his well tailored suit. His bronze toned skin accentuated perfectly by the stark black of them. His well muscled body, that’s he maintained despite his tendency to sit long hours behind his desk, barely hidden. He stands at around 6’6.”

Face Claim: Rubén Cortada

Anastasia Blackwood

Name: Anastasia Céline Blackwood

Age: 38

Appearance: With natural raven black hair, that pairs well with the blue-green shade of her eyes, Anastasia is reminiscent of classic Hollywood beauty; her fair, unblemished skin accentuated beautifully by the designer dresses and suits she’s usually seen within. Her athletic body, that’s more on the lithe side, showcases that an active lifestyle is the one for her. She is 6’0”.

Face Claim: Audrey Hepburn and Angelina Jolie

Peyton Lewis

Name: Peyton Alexander/Alexandra Lewis

Age: 34

Appearance: Medium brown skin is complemented by the deep onyx black curls of their hair; M!Peyton keeping his short and F!Peyton keeping hers to her just beneath her shoulders. Golden brown eyes, the color of honey, shimmer with warmth and kindness when directed towards you, but a flirtatious heat when directed at anyone else. A smirk of some kind always curling their lips. Their slender body is usually encased within comfy sweaters and jeans, but they still make them look like they’d be on the cover of Vogue. They stand at 5’8”.

Face Claim: Terrence Telle // Bianca Lawson

Morgan Reese

Name: Morgan Noel/Noelle Reese

Age: 35

Appearance: With tousled golden brown hair, Morgan tends to keep their hair relatively short (M!Morgan exactly like the picture and F!Morgan to just above her shoulders). Dark brown, almost black, eyes are usually closed off, and forever alert, but every once in a while they soften to reveal the golden flecks hidden within. Their lightly tanned skin, and lean toned body, is accentuated perfectly by the simple button ups and slacks they’re usually seen within. They’re 5’10”.

Face Claim: Lewis Tan // Tong Liya

[inncrgold-moved]

@dumbthink ( peyton )

he's not even looking at them and grabs their hand before they can get away, casually pulling them closer before looking up from the step he was sitting on while minding his own business and getting some shade from the hot sun. "stealing around here isn't gonna look good for you, y'know. guards aren't the only ones who punish criminals and i'd hate to get up right now to teach you a lesson. so give me what you took and we can just pretend this never happened."

[nedlittle]

genuine question: what is wrong with the peyton beachdeath lma trans thread? I know…too much about peyton himself so we don’t need to revisit that, but i’d love to see you rip into some shoddy scholarship and ways to (mis)understand historical queerness

oh god...

i mean aside from people taking the word of a notorious clout-chasing liar and conspiracy theorist at face value...peyton just doesn't understand or even really care about history when it does not directly benefit him. full disclosure i have not read the thread since it was first posted but it is burned into my memory unfortunately, i also don't know a lot about lma as a historical figure

aside from cherry picking quotes from lma's diaries there were no actual sources. nothing from her biographers, no secondary scholarship at all. it was just peyton presenting quotes purposefully stripped of their context in order to further a point that he wanted to be right.

this should be like. queer history for pre-schoolers but people in the past who were or may have been queer understood themselves and their queerness differently than people do today. peyton is incapable of looking at queerness outside of his very specific 21st century lens. could louisa may alcott have been a trans man? possibly! could she have also been cis and/or gnc? sure! could she have simply been writing in both her private and personal lives about how suffocating the experience of being a woman in the 19th century was? yeah. we have no way of knowing which of this could be true, and whether they overlapped at all. queer history exists in shades of possibility. in some cases (and we're going to use trans men contemporary to lma), like those of albert cashier and charley pankhurst, we can pretty definitely say that they were both men; that being a man was essential to their continued survival, that they would have wanted to be remembered as men. in other cases, it's more slippery because the taxonomy we use nowadays to classify ourselves and especially our differentiation of gender identity vs sexual acts is SO recent that it does a disservice to classify all historical queerness with it.

it's insane that there are MULTIPLE notable 19th century trans men in american history at the time lma was living and he still was like no this is not good enough for me i can only emotionally relate to something if i can force my own image onto it. that's really the problem here, not the shoddy history and the deliberately misleading language, but the fact that peyton is seemingly incapable of enjoying or relating to a piece of media or a person if he cannot find a direct comparison to his own life. he did the same oh "(x) was 100% absolutely a trans man if you tell me wrong you're transphobic" thing with katharine hepburn (iirc??) a few years back and this is a personal gripe but having read a 600+ page bio of hepburn that was very generous to several queer readings of her life: lol. lmao even. his insistence of flatting the experience of anyone with a moderately fucky gender into "you're either Like Me or your not" is so purposefully stupid.

like, do all the trans readings of little women you want! i myself made a deranged little women trans post a few weeks ago. but lma isn't a fictional character who you can apply different literary lenses to! she was a real human person whose relationship with her gender we will never fully understand because we were not there. at some point you just have to accept that it is not your business. why are you so desperate for any shred of historical representation that you are willing to exhume the dead in order to out them?

peyton relates to jo march, so he insists that reading jo as a trans man is the only (morally) correct reading. he likes little women but has to make it fit the public view of transness that he is made his personal brand. i actually followed him for longer than i'd care to admit, and it's a trend with any piece of media that he is publicly into that he has to make a character a trans man in order to relate to them.

he also has this deranged idea that any author writing with emotional depth about the """opposite sex""" must have been trans. see the article he wrote for the niche about how must have been a trans man because he gave dido's emotions and the collapse of her marriage to aeneas the same "dignified treatment as any sprawling, epic battlefield scenes." [direct quote] the article is literally called " vergil had a pussy and i'll prove it." no further comment.

one of his "proofs" is that lma was called "lou" by her family, which he then proceeds to call her for the rest of the thread. lou is....a very normal nickname for louisa both now and then. you know what else was a 19th century nickname for louisa? wheezy. imagine that same thread but he calls her wheezy alcott. thank you, good day.

[tenderlysharpmidain]

In the world of Forgotten Realms, messy wizardry laboratory, A beautiful blond teenage noble mage [teenage Peyton List mix Emma Watson] , smile, large beautiful vivid anime eyes, curvaceous, dynamic pose, sharp focus, perfect shading, deep lighting, rim lighting, super details, highly detailed splash art by [WLOP & Artgerm & sakimichan], Medium shot, --v 4

Touch Carpenters

midjourney 

[starblaster]

i just think “transformative” fiction can go too far sometimes. it’s how we ended up with works of fanfiction being turned into the shittiest novels in the english language (both sides now by peyton thomas, fifty shades series by e.l. james).

and yeah, maybe these are extreme exceptions. but fandoms at large do still have a problem with the transformative fiction mentality; there are an alarming number of fans who impose their interpretation on the source material and it's starting to feel like people only want to interpret works through their own skewed, insular perspectives and they don't want to do any of the work required to effectively interact with a text or a piece of media. this isn't a "we can all have our headcanons" post, this is a heavy "please remember than an author actually wrote this and had their own intentions and you have to at least fucking try understanding those intentions first" suggestion.

and obviously my point is not that there is 'only 1 true interpretation' at all. but it would be worth your time as a critical thinker to recognize if/when your interpretations have become too far removed from the source work and that distorted interpretation is impacting your ability to engage with texts/media in a meaningful way.

[killerandhealerqueen]

Oooo 🐝 perceive me 💜

Hope you are having a fantastic day/night <3

HAHA, prepare to be perceived!

Song: Colors of the Wind by Peyton Parrish

Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?

Reason: Your blog is purple but it's different shades of purple (from your icon to your actual blog to your header) so...all the colors of the wind

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