bourbon-neat

I love butch femme culture

I love dressing to the nines with my wife and stopping traffic downtown because people are open mouth starring at us. 

I love it when the waiter puts my gin cocktail in front of my femme wife and then puts her neat bourbon in front of me. I wink at the waiter and switch the drinks. 

I love being the only (young) couple who knows how to waltz at weddings. We put on a show. 

I love how she looks in a pencil skirt. She loves my tie collection. 

I love how she kisses me on the forehead while I’m fixing things around the house.

I love it when a man asks me a question about car mechanics and I refer the question to her, my car high femme. 

I love that she puts a happy note in my lunch every day. 

I love how she has my measurements memorized so she can buy me nice shirts when she goes thrifting. 

I love how she still gets excited when I buy her flowers. 

I love when she bakes brownies and she always sets aside two for me, her sugar butch. 

I love how she inspires straight women to ask for more and expect more from their husbands/boyfriends. 

I love being a chivalrous butch and worshiping her as my queen. 

I love subverting gender norms/expectations. Anyone who knows us knows she is the boss. 

  • me, before john wick: I am a positive girl who enjoys Star Trek, hiking, flowers, and my dog :)
  • me, after john wick: *smoking an unfiltered cigarette that burns my throat, sitting in a ripped, satin evening gown at a dimly-lit bar, sipping neat kentucky bourbon, with mascara running down my cheeks and my red yves saint laurent lipstick smeared* I want to fuck Keanu Reeves and I don't know who I am anymore
Protector - Damon Salvatore oneshot

Requested by anon

Word Count - 624

You had visited the Mystic Falls to escape from all the craziness that was going on around you with the arrival of Klaus and his family, to the ever present annoyance of Katherine, and then there was your boyfriend, Damon, who was fixated upon the destruction of well, everyone really.suffice to say you needed a breather.

You took a seat at the bar and ordered a bourbon, neat when your drink finally arrived you noticed the barmans number of the napkin he laid down for you to take. Honestly, you found it flattering but you really weren’t in the mood so you ignored the number, over time you noticed the barman would not take his eyes off you, this is when you decided you should probably set him straight so you called him over seeing as your glass was empty anyway.

‘Hey cutie, what’ll it be?’ The barman asked you, winking as he finished his sentence.

'Hey, I really appreciate that you had the courage to leave your number and I really am flattered but you should know, I have a boyfriend, sorry to let you down’ You spoke to him, softly and apologetically.

'Well I don’t see him here baby, how about when I get off I take you with me, show you what your missing’ He barman spoke, your opinion of him completely shifting, now you knew he was sleazy and you just wanted to get out of your situation.

'I don’t think you heard me right, I have a boyfriend, besides I think it’s probably time to leave, can you just get me the bill please?’ You asked, desperate to leave this man behind and go home to find your boyfriend ,Damon.

'I don’t think so, stay have a drink, lets see if I can’t convince a pretty little thing like you to come home with me’ As he spoke his hands got closer to yours until he had grabbed your wrists firmly, preventing you from freeing yourself.

'Hey! Let go of me!’ You shouted,hoping someone would take notice of you.

'I said drink!’ The man was now shouting back, his nails digging into the flesh on your wrists.

It was at this moment that the bartender flew across the bar, hitting the wall and smashing all of the bottles displayed behind him, knocking him unconscious  ’ What part of she has a boyfriend are you failing to understand’ You would recognise that voice anywhere, it was the voice of your boyfriend, Damon and honestly you couldn’t have been more relived to know he’s here with you.

'Are you okay Y/N?’ Damon asked you, clearly concerned for your wellbeing, inspecting your body for potential damage.

'I’m fine Damon, honestly, just a little shaken up.’ You respond, smiling up at your boyfriend reassuringly.

'Good, because he won’t be, I’ll kill him for touching you’ He shouted, the aggression that disappeared when he was talking to you had reemerged as he started for the man.

Just as Damon had grabbed your abuser by the throat you had gripped his arm from behind. 'Please, don’t kill him, I know he shoun’d have touched me but hes not worth it, please Damon.’ As you spoke Damons eyes were fixed on the mans, but you knew he was hearing you.

As your grip tightened on Damons arm and your other hand moved to his shoulder before he dripped the man and turned to you, resting his hands on your face. 'I hate that you’re so moral Y/N, its really ruining my reputation’ He smile at you jokingly.

'Come on murderer, take me home’ You smiled up at Damon and kissed him gently before he wrapped his arm around your neck and walked you home.

Ride With Me (Part 5)

PAIRING: readerxbuckybarnes au

WORD COUNT:

WARNINGS: swearing, violence and angst 

*It all comes to ahead when Schmidt pays a visit to Hawkeyes

Part five is here guys! I am overwhelmed by the response this series is getting, honestly I am so happy that so many of you are enjoying it!! as always feedback is very much appreciated! 

Previous Chapter 

GIFS NOT MINE 

Originally posted by agent-schmidt-blog-blog-blog

Originally posted by wintersthighs

“I still can’t get my head around it” you laughed along with Sharon, it was Wednesday. Hawkeyes was just about to close for the night and the customers who were still straggling for that last drink were being gently persuaded by Clint to call a taxi. Promising that the keys to their respected bikes would be held under lock and eye until they were sober enough in the morning to collect them.

“It’s not conventional I’ll give it that” Sharon giggled; you had your doubts about the blonde. But you were pleasantly surprised she was tougher than she looked. Something she admitted from getting from her Aunt.

“Me and Peg are more like sister than Aunt and Niece” She smiled at you to which you returned. Your back was to the front door as you leaned on your elbow on the counter.

“And the number thirteen?” you wondered the tattoo was just peaking out from one of the straps of her tank top.

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2

*Requested*  Imagine convincing Alaric, who you don’t know, to pretend to be your boyfriend when this guy won’t stop looking at you strangely. The guy leaves and you thank Alaric, you leaving a few minutes later, but the guy, who is a vampire, is waiting for you and attacks you and Alaric comes out and defends you. When the vamp is gone he asks you out and you say yes, kissing his cheek and thanking him again.

(Finally another one for all the Alaric girls and guys out there. I hope you enjoy! Happy reading my lovelies)

Characters: Alaric x Reader, random vampire

Story Title: “History and Bourbon”

Word count: 1226

Your name: submit What is this?


A pair of eyes stare into your backside, not looking away once. You are currently at the Grill and this creepy stranger, who looks like he has camped out in the Woods for quite some time, keeps staring at you. You don’t know if he’s a vampire eying his prey -which wouldn’t be surprising in your hometown Mystic Falls- or just a creeper who loves to make people uncomfortable. Either way, it does not look like he is leaving anytime soon, so you have to think of something because it is getting pretty late and you would be an easy target if the guy follows you outside.

You look around the Grill in desperate need of finding something or someone to help you get out of here safely. Then suddenly, the ringing sound of the doorbell catches your attention. In walks a guy with dirty blonde hair carrying a fairly big bag. It looks like he is walking towards your direction.  Maybe he could help you get out of here? He certainly looks strong enough to kick the creepers ass.  

On second thought maybe not. This is Mystic Falls after all.  There are vampires lurking around everywhere. Maybe it is best to play on the safe side and verbally ask the new guy to help you. But how could you ask him? This is not something you ever asked someone, at least not in this setting. And what would you say anyway?

Well, there’s no more time to contemplate anymore because the guy almost reached the bar.  Here it goes…

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I’m Not Gay (No Matter WHAT the Books Say)

Round Three of the Great Fic Writer Scavenger Hunt

“Oh. My. Gosh.” Charlie gasped, nearly toppling out of her chair. She’d been hanging out in the Bunker during her spare time, catching up on the new Supernatural books (Somehow, some way, Chuck was actually publishing new ones, to the dismay of the Winchesters.)

Dean looked up, very worried. “You okay?”

“Yeah, no, I’m great, I just…wow, this plot twist came out of nowhere.”

Dean frowned. Chuck’s books might have been ridiculous, but their content typically came true. And from the sounds of it, something bad had just occurred. “What happened?”

Charlie’s eyes widened and she coughed awkwardly, as though trying to avoid laughter. “Oh. You know. Nothing, uh, serious.”

“Charlie,” Dean said warningly, making a swipe from across the table for her tablet, which she fielded with ease. “I need to know.”

“Promise you won’t steal my tablet?”

“Promise.”

Charlie sighed, taking a deep breath to try and settle her face into a neutral expression. “It’s about you…and Cas.”

“What about us?”

“Well, uh, it kinda comes out of nowhere, but there’s this one hunt where you two, um, kiss.”

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anonymous asked:

The only explanation I can think of for Markk's video today is that he follows this blog and started listening to Bourbon_Neat on your recommendation. There is simply no other way.

Oh good lord no, id be so mortified if any of them ever saw this blog 😰

What Hurricane Sandy Uncovered

It was 2012 when Hurricane Sandy hit the Northeast United States. New York City was fixated on a dangling crane in midtown Manhattan. Weird stories and photos circulated the internet and social media. Most notably, a picture of a shark on the flooded front lawn of a New Jersey home. One of the more disturbing picture I saw was of a casket floating down an empty street. I’ve searched high and low for a copy of that photo more to prove my story than anything.

Caskets floating away during a flood aren’t a new thing believe it or not. In New Orleans, the problem of airtight coffins popping out of the ground because of heavy rain fall became so bad most graves are now either lined with concrete or built above ground. Before Sandy, this phenomenon was unheard of in the state of Connecticut. I never saw it personally mind you. I just saw the picture I mentioned and a few stories from patrons at the bar I used to work at. Problem is, drunks aren’t exactly known for their honest story telling.

The story I’m telling you took place the day after the hurricane. The bar I work at is located on the outskirts of Waterbury, Connecticut. My boss called me and asked if I could go check out the place and make sure it hadn’t been damaged or looted. I said I would on the condition that I could drink for free when I got there. He agreed (Not much choice. He was flooded in) and I was in my truck and on the my, figuring I’d spend my afternoon relaxing at an empty bar.

There’s something creepy about a city the day after a storm. Major roadways are abandoned. Street lights are out. One major intersection I had to go through simply had a stop sign stuck in a Home Depot bucket in the middle of the road instead of it’s usual working stop lights. The power was out so most of the houses I passed were pitch black. Pure silence with the exception of my truck’s engine and the country station I was listening to. Only one word came to mind at that moment. Apocalyptic.

I pulled into the strip mall were the bar was located. I locked up and moved towards the glass front door. The neon sign outside had been broken in the storm. “McKinley’s Gin Mill” was written in hunter green gothic type on yellowing plastic. The break in the sign was in the top left corner were an Irish caricature grinned over a mug of beer. With the top left part of his head missing the single remaining eye made his smile seem more sinister than sarcastic.

I opened up and flipped the switch. The lights stayed off. Powers out signs broken, but I couldn’t see any other damage. I grabbed a green Jameson bottle along with a portable IPod player we kept under the bar and made my way into the adjourning room. The way McKinley’s was set up was as soon as you walk through the front door you’re in the bar room. The room had wood paneling, and was decorated with photos, posters and signs scattered on the walls. Across from the bar was a 5 foot gap in the wall that lead to an area with a big screen TV, pool table, juke box, and a few tables. I put the bottle on one of the tables and set up my IPod. I enjoy solitude for the most part and the idea of drinking a bottle of Irish and listening to music while improving my pool game was welcome compared to how I usually spend my nights. Noisy 20 somethings taking Instagram pictures and comparing how drunk they are. I put my “Chill Out” playlist on and set up the table.

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I just watched the Kingsman 2 trailer again (Before GotG Vol. 2, which is excellent btw)

And, once again, I find myself worried about the fate of Roxy Morton. So, because I’m sure Matthew Vaughn frequently prowls Tumblr for story ideas and because Kingsman 2 totally isn’t already done, I’ll give him the only ways in which Roxy being in Kingsman HQ when it explodes is acceptable:

The Best Option:

Merlin and Eggsy are escorted into the Statesman meeting room by Agent Tequila after their misunderstanding, the two agents are greeted by Lancelot already seated at the table drinking some bourbon neat (or I could definitely see her pulling a power move and having her hosts make her tea).

Eggsy and Merlin stare, mouths agape.

Eggsy: Rox! Bloody hell! We thought you were dead!

Eggsy moves towards her quickly and gives his fellow agent a heartfelt hug.

Roxy: Why would you think that?

Eggsy: Headquarters was blown to hell! You were in it!

Roxy: I can read a “Missle Incoming” warning, Eggsy.

Merlin: Why didn’t you find us? How did you know to come here?

Roxy: I looked, but the shop on Seville was blown to hell and you two weren’t answering my hails! And we’ve talked about the Statesman before, Merlin, I figured they’d be a good resource to tap.

Eggsy: Well, bloody hell, yeah? Let’s get to work.

The Okay option:

Roxy is found near HQ, broken, battered, and bruised. Eggsy and Merlin make sure she’s safe and being taken care of in a secure medical facility before taking off to face her would-be killers. Then, at the “All Is Lost” moment, as the Statesman and what’s left of the Kingsman appear to be beaten, reinforcements in the form of Roxanne “Motherfuckin’ Lancelot” Morton shows up and kills just an ass-load of bad guys. The good guys rally and win the day.

The Absolute Bare Minimum Option*:

Roxanne Morton is injured and near death after the attack on Kingsman HQ. Eggsy and Merlin ensure that she’s being properly cared for before going off to face her would-be killers. Roxy remains injured through the rest of the movie but is shown to be fully recovered by the end of the film. 

*This option is only valid if Roxy gets a huge role in Kingsman 3 

Deep End

Undo drabble series #002

== Previous: Undo, Faded ==

Genre: Angst, Implied smut

Character: Min Yoongi x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Jia (Jia’s POV)

a/n: The main story of Undo was highly inspired by this song (along with the video), but this part of the series was particularly inspired by this song.

Originally posted by bangtan-so-far


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highfaenesta  asked:

‘you’re a wait person at a strip club and i can’t even focus on the strippers anymore bc of you’ . - Nessian au

I have to say, this is the best prompt I have ever received. It took a good five minutes for me to overcome from the laughter before I could even begin write this story line. I hope you enjoy.

- - - - - - -

She had been working as a waitress for years at the Savoy, a prominent strip club on the northern side of town. It paid the bills and she was damn good at her job.

The men were all the same and even though they made her skin crawl, she knew how to work them for the largest tips. It had become a known fact that she often went home with more tips than the strippers. Although they came for the view, what the men really needed was not to be alone. That was a feeling that Nesta understood, she understood what it was like to face the world alone.  She had her sisters, but she was so different from them it often left her feeling empty.

As a waitress she paraded around the men like a goddess. She played her regulars like a well-tuned guitar. She left each of them with a feeling of want and desire, when they knew that they would never be successful they always turned their attention back to the stage. Always.

Tonight, there was a new addition to her section. Her body responded to the look of him. Her mouth watered as she looked at his broad shoulders, shoulder length hair, and those eyes, she could get lost in those hazel eyes. This man was dangerous, but not in the typical sense of danger.

With newbies she always asked the same ridiculous question, but their answer always let her know how best to handle them, which meant bigger tips for her.

“What brings you to the Savoy?”

“I asked where to get a drink with the best view, I should have known Lucien would find a way to goad me.”

The man looked at her, and she sensed that he could see her, really see her. What shocked her was that he didn’t have the same hunger in his eyes as her normal clientele. He was different.

He smiled, “Although he did not lie about the view.”

She brushed him off, “what would you like to drink?”

“Bourbon, neat”

Hmm, a bourbon man. She had learned over the years that most bourbon men were not here to be drunk and drown their sorrows away; that is what rum, tequila and vodka were made for. Bourbon men just wanted to take an edge off. Sometimes it was the edge of loneliness, sometimes the stress of a business deal, sometimes a fight with a spouse. They never wanted to lose control, they just needed to breath.

“Makers Mark?”

“Do you have anything smoother, I have enough fire, maybe Angel’s Envy?”

“We mostly stalk low end bourbons, but the bartender keeps my favorite on hand, Eagle Rare.”

Oh his smirk, that is dangerous, “a bourbon girl, and one that likes the complexity of smooth flavors, those are a true rarity.”

She stared into those beautiful hazel eyes, waiting for an answer.

“If you would be so kind, Eagle Rare, neat.”

She turned to the bar. Shit. I never let any of the clientele know something personal. Never. It is her golden rule, the one that kept her safe. She frowned the entire way to the bar, not looking back. When she turned from the bar, she almost took a step back when she noticed his gaze was set upon her instead of the stage.

“The strippers are on the stage.”

“And what rob myself of the most beautiful view in this place, sweetheart?”

Dangerous, this man was dangerous. It was all she could do not to imagine that voice calling her name, purring across her neck. Shit. She knew how she wanted this night to end, she knew he could take the loneliness away even if it was just for a moment in time, but would she have the nerve?

anonymous asked:

I've been listening to Mr. Bourbon_Neat all day and have gotten no work done. Thank you for blessing me with this amazing curse. 💖💖💖💖

Oh you’re so welcome. That’s happened to me many many times. I used to write my fanfiction while listening to him and I think that’s something I need to start doing again because DAMN did I write some pretty lit shit. 💖

Open Starter || Damon

Damon had been at this bar for what feels like hours, but in reality had only been about 15 minutes. He tried calling Stefan for the millionth time before accepting that he wasn’t showing and deciding to get another drink. He walks up to the bar, asking for bourbon neat like usual. He has nothing better to do than sit around and wait- so that’s what he does.

I know it was probably a joking statement but please guys. Don’t go harassing Mark and the voice actor behind Bourbon_Neat about any of this stuff. I don’t want that kind of attention on this blog, I work really hard to keep things out of the main tags and I really don’t want to make any of these people uncomfortable. Please respect that.

Lines from 7x21 that have me staying positive about Bamon

Bonnie: “I actually think I want a Bourbon. Neat.” Damon’s drink is Bonnie’s drink. It is their thing. One of many. Then Enzo said: That’s the girl I love” which is like saying ‘I love the way you look in your ex’s jacket.’ No man would ever say that. The writers tried to distract us from a Bamon thing that they put in there. Good try.

Caroline: “She’s better off in here [Damon’s bedroom] don’t you think? It’s quieter and more peaceful…” As opposed to the other dozens of rooms in the big, empty Boarding House? Bonnie could have been put in any room but they put her in Damon’s. Enzo didn’t even object to that. Strange no? Then Caroline told Bonnie: “Your body is safe in Damon’s bedroom.” Caroline said those words. Without anything negative/sarcastic about Damon afterwards. That’s no small thing.

Damon: “When you love someone sometimes you have to go to those extremes.”“Actually brother that advice is so good that I have to take it myself.” Damon already knew Bonnie was on the short list of people he loved. He said as much when explaining to Ric why he went into the coffin (“..to protect the people I love”) He was also already going to extremes for Bonnie but then he went even further after this. The greater the love, the more extreme the actions to keep that person alive. That’s how the scene read to me. Ergo, Damon’s love for his Bon Bon is great.

Every single thing Damon said while Bonnie had a stake at his heart with special focus on: “..If this is my last moment with you Bonnie Bennett I need you to hear me. I admire you. I believe in you. And I love you..” His next words did bum me out but you don’t have someone say all these things with that look in his eyes then tell me he loves this girl like a sister. I call bullshit. Time and time again Eleanor has been a crutch for Damon and Bonnie. Whenever things get intense for them, and that scene was lit, they bring her up. It’s automatic at this point. The writers keep trying to downplay what these two have, what they have written, but they’re failing. The way he went on to say “..I did this to us and begged her to forgive him before killing him 

Originally posted by lilsparrow72

I read the JP tweets but the proof is in the pudding and I don’t trust what she says. I won’t hang in my towel till the day Kat walks away with Ian in tow and their characters are still only friends. Only then will I accept that Bamon isn’t canon. Ichabbie fans held on and hoped with much much less. I still think we have a shot so I hope the Bamily can stay positive as well.