[throwingbourbon-blog]

goodness i miss this blog and writing. maybe this week i’ll revamp and get going again <3

[ownssarcasm-blog]

               i’m a survivor - - in more ways than you know.

[throwingbourbon-blog]

bourbonandheels:

The growing fire wasn’t helping her fatigued self become any more alert. It was exhausting being paranoid and running around without being able to catch her breath, and with limited supplies. Without the adrenaline and necessity of her efforts driving her, all that was left was the exhaustion. She watched the flames dance and lick at the wood for another few seconds as Damon moved to come back to the couch. If he wanted to kill her, he already would have. Having her head turned to something else for an extra second would not make an ounce of difference. 

Reusing material. She didn’t quite understand what he was getting at, but pursuing the original joke felt pointless. “Well, if you want to refer to yourself as old material…” She quipped. If anything, he was the material she was using once again. Katherine shifted slightly towards him as he continued to taunt her about her age and newfound fragile state, but it was difficult to care enough to give more than a sarcastic look in reply. Her hands rested in her lap, and she almost wished for a fresh drink just to give her something to do with them. That was definitely a bad idea, though.

“Happily.” She stretched out her arms in front of her like a sleepy kitten before they fell back into her lap. Food before shower sounding fine by her. “If you’re offering. I haven’t had anything to eat all day.” It was a slight exaggeration, but Katherine wasn’t going to split hairs over a granola bar. A house full of vampires didn’t necessarily keep a stocked fridge, however. Her elbow came to rest on the back of the couch as she looked at him, her fingers threading lightly through her hair. “I could order something to the house. I’d eat the food, and… you could eat the delivery boy.” She suggested with a whimsical little smile and a nonchalant shrug. Her value on human life, other than her own, hadn’t changed a bit.

His sardonic laugh and the call-out statements of disbelief gave her sugary smile a touch of genuine pleasure. Her chin slightly down, she looked over at him through her eyelashes. It didn’t hurt that what he said could be taken as a compliment, but a small part of her felt pleased he knew her well enough to challenge her on something like that. It faded, because what she said was also grounded in truth. She did feel helpless. “Damon. I’m slow, and I’m weak. I only meant that I can’t do anything to hurt you.” Her schemes didn’t involve hurting him, for the time being anyway, just staying safe and sane. She gave her temple a quick rub and her tone flattened out even more. Her skin felt warmer— no doubt an effect of the bourbon. “You’re the big, strong vampire now.” As opposed to when their positions had been reversed. “So make your jokes and have your fun. It doesn’t change anything.” He had yet to say anything actually hurtful, either.

“Cute.” It was a sore wound, and not one Damon particularly felt like pouring salt in at the moment. Whether or not he had opened the door to that topic – he hadn’t, and he’d vehemently stand by it if necessary – it wasn’t something he wanted to delve into. Weakened state or not, the vampire had no intention of getting into a battle of the minds with Katherine Pierce, which more often than not led to him wondering why the hell he had even taken the bait in the first place. Her look was met with a lopsided smirk, his eyebrows raising in a sort of glee. “What?”

Am I going to regret this? The thought popped into his head as he watched the sultry brunette stretch out on HIS couch with a familiarity that she didn’t deserve. But this time he laughed, he barked out a laugh that broke the silence, genuine amusement written over his face “There’s a kitchen. Make yourself something.” As to the quality of food in the house, Damon couldn’t say. There might have been a few breakfast ingredients, maybe some leftovers if Stefan had gotten the cooking bug.

And…you could eat the delivery boy.

It hadn’t been long ago when he would have done just that without so much as thinking about it. There was nothing like getting blood from the source. Eat, snatch, erase. Or just eat. The temptation mounted, but rather than face it Damon gave her a mocking smile.

“Why wait? Are you offering?”

She had nothing to fear, he wasn’t going anywhere near her jugular.

The look she shot him could have sent him back over a century, with the coy demeanor she had once looked up at him with in his father’s house. Suddenly feeling suffocated Damon rose to his feet, his fingers itching for another drink, his hand freezing with the decanter at her next words. Physically, yes. He did have the advantage, and it was one that he would exploit at every opportunity. But there was no way in hell he was going to allow himself to become blind, or arrogant to that fact. Not when it came to dealing with Katherine Pierce, and especially when she had proved that she could hurt a person in ways without even lifting a finger. “Mhm.” He looked at her, raised the glass, then downed it in one gulp. “Alright, get up. We’re taking some steps to fix…whatever this is, because if you’re staying here you’re going to have to get over the pity party.”

[throwingbourbon-blog]

Once you get this you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly, and send it to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable). SPREAD POSITIVITY! ♡

this is literally the cutest thing?? WHAT? <3

UM….okay.things i like about myself;

1. i like that i’m a hard worker, and got a good work ethic when i was young.2. i like that i’ve experienced so many different cultures while traveling which goes with the next one-3. i like that i grew up in a really diverse area, i think that’s shaped a lot of my personal ideas and ideology. 4. i like my eyes? and,5. i like that i try my hardest to be there for my friends when they need me.

[throwingbourbon-blog]

bourbonandheels:

Katherine paced the width of the cabin in front of Damon’s chair as she grew ever more frustrated with his lack of answers. She knew it might come to this, to have to hurt him just a little in order to get him to tell her the truth, but she wouldn’t enjoy it. Her agitation would make it easier, though. 

Patriotism was a cop-out answer, she knew. Damon had felt more loyalty to her during the Civil War than to the Confederacy, and she saw no reason for his vampirism to have inflated his sense of country. He fought for the ‘rebel’ southerners then, and now for modern America. It couldn’t be so simple as that. 

She crossed the room to rustle through one of her suitcases, allowing the clinking glass bottles of vervain against syringes and chime of metal knives to fill the beat of quiet. Katherine knew Damon was sitting in darkness and weak, so the mysterious sounds worked to her advantage to scare him and build anticipation. No doubt his ears were perked for any noise that might help him out of the situation or give him clues.

She selected a knife, almost like a small parrying dagger. Coming behind him once again, she leaned down to murmur in his ear. “I was hoping to avoid getting blood on this beautiful carpet, Damon, but you force my hand.” She ran the cold flat edge of the blade across his throat, making sure he felt the prick of its sharp tip against his windpipe for a split second before pulling the knife away from his skin. She came round to the front, leaning over him with her hands gripped to his forearms, the handle of the dagger pressed into his flesh. She was careful not to touch near his blistering wrists.

“I have many toys and all the time in the world to have my fun with you, and since you don’t feel like talking, perhaps I should bind your pretty mouth as well.” A threat, because if he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t tell her what she wanted to know even if he wanted to part way through the torture. Before giving him a chance to answer, Katherine quickly shifted her weight to slip the blade between his ribs and clasp one hand over his mouth, muffling any noise he might make. It would hurt, but he would heal. After a breath she twisted the blade, able to feel the flexing tension through the handle as his muscles tried to heal around it.

He was running out of time to make this work, to get this woman – whoever the hell she was – off of his back. The vervain in his system was making Damon’s limbs feel heavy, his concentration unable to focus so diligently on one top for more than a few moments at a time. The ebb and flow of the ship could lull him into a sleep if he didn’t at least try to remain awake, focused and aware of what was going on around him.

Survive. He had lived through worse in just his short years as a vampire, and he would live through this too if he was smart about it. Charming her, or at least trying to, wasn’t working, and he was going to have to adjust his strategy to get what he wanted.

Her silence only made the apprehension grow. If she had snuck up on him on a relatively empty street, there was no knowing what she was capable of now that she had him fully at her mercy. Tilting his head to the side Damon tried to get any kind of hint, and clue as to what she was up to, and the clink of some kind of bottle or metal was NOT what he had been looking for. Crap.

Shit. “Is it a beautiful carpet? I wouldn’t know.” The vampire was unable to help himself, but there was a new edge to his voice as he prepared for this hostage situation to go from bad to worse. The cool feel of metal against his throat caused him to swallow involuntarily, despite Damon not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing that he was officially squirming in his seat. She was close, and if he had the use of his hands, or his full strength, maybe Damon could fight back, spin the situation into his favor.

“Well at least you think I’m pretty-“ it was muffled by her hand, and he could barely get the words out before grunting and gritting his teeth in a desperate attempt not to make any kind of noise. His breathing accelerated, just as sure as he was that his eyes had widened at the sudden pain. “What the h-“ the knife twisted and Damon tossed his head back, his neck straining as he tried to swallow down the pain, all the while failing miserably.

“Fine,” he spat, his breathing ragged as he tried to pull his head back from her grip. “It’s nothing fucking special. I was supposed to come with someone, and it was better I came on my own. Alright?”

It was a half-truth, and very little information because there was no way in hell he was mentioning his brother’s name to whoever the hell she was, but the knife needed to go. Now.

[throwingbourbon-blog]

bourbonandheels:

Too late, Katherine thought, she should have put on her old Bulgarian accent, though there was a good chance he would just think she came from the Soviet Union. Most people couldn’t tell the difference if they weren’t from around there. Still, it would’ve been easier to keep up than the French. Then she could play war enemy. That sounded much more fun, but alas, she had chosen an American ally, and she had to come up with a story that matched. Damn.

“Patriotism.” She said it sardonically, with a snobbish chortle that sounded nothing like her real laughter, warm and contagious. This French broad was a tad annoying, Katherine found herself reflecting as she rounded Damon’s chair. She stood across from him instead and looked at him for a moment. He seemed so vulnerable, completely at her mercy. It was exhilarating. The possibilities of what she could do to him were endless. But she needed to stay on task. 

“Talk sweet all you want, Damon.” The way she said his name sounded more like demon.  “But as you can see, I know all the tricks and weak points of a vampire.” His idiotic struggles against the vervain ropes made her want to smack him to stop hurting himself needlessly. “But I will tell you a little bit about me. I work for the French War Council,” She didn’t even know if that was a real thing. She just made things up that sounded plausible. “We are an underground organization helping the Allies. France may have conceded defeat but the French people have not. So you see how I cannot let you go until you answer my questions.” Katherine really was amusing herself a little too much, even to her ear the accent sounded just a hair ridiculous. “You may as well just tell me what I want to know. Are you in this war to kill innocent Allied soldiers?” That seemed like something a French patriot would be concerned about. “Why enlist, hm? Are you working for the enemy?”

The game was already losing its already lackluster appeal as Damon’s patience began to wear thin. Was she a vampire? French, definitely, and strong enough to strap him to a chair with vervain soaked ropes after snapping his neck. But if he could just get one of his wrists free, or get her distracted on something else he could figure a way out of this. But the sound of each and every wave that smacked against the side of the ship reminded him exactly just how alone he was, and how he was not on the higher ground.

“Patriotism,” he echoed after her, fighting a roll of his eyes. “That is what I said, sweetheart.” What else could he come up with? The other’s he had listened to idly at the bars all talked about their duty to their country, the draft and enlisting. All that crap was more likely to get him out of trouble rather than the truth. Apart from idealistic, naïve, expectations of what this war could have been for his brother and himself, being a solider was something Damon knew how to do. Even if he had never been particularly good at it.

Unfortunately, she had a point, although he’d never agree to it aloud. He was vulnerable, weak, and completely at her mercy. For a moment, he entertained the idea of how he would kill her, and how much he would enjoy it – even if to just shut her up. The woman’s next words caused a chill to take over him, deliberately choosing not to address it in an attempt to hide just how much it had bothered him. He had never mentioned his name. Damon’s mind once again brought him back to Lexi, wondering if she had decided to make good on one of her many threats, despite him doing as they had agreed. “Do we have to?” He drawled with exaggerated boredom, his head tilting back in what he hoped was an air of nonchalance.

French War Council? Working for the enemy. This time Damon did scoff. Loudly.

“Look, this is all very Belle Boyd of you, but you oughta quit while you’re ahead. All of this is above my pay grade.”

[throwingbourbon-blog]

mightybigpill replied to your post: question as i get to my drafts- is it possible for...

i don’t think so babe, why

i’m getting really sweet anons but they’re for a character i’ve never written before. i was just curious to see if there was a way to forward them to the person who they were actually meant for but i guess not :(

[throwingbourbon-blog]

question as i get to my drafts- is it possible for tumblr to send someone someone else’s anons? asking for a friend.

[seamsteriori-blog]

How am I doing with my character? Tell me in the askbox, and I'll publish it without comment.

[mightybigpill]

THE PLANE CRASHED.

          It’s unbelievable how quickly life can spiral out of control. Unfortunately for the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815, it’s equally as unbelievable how quickly a plane can get over a thousand miles off course — and crash land into a mysterious and seemingly deserted island. Bodies strewn among the wreckage serve as a reminder to how lucky the remaining passengers are. Though perhaps lucky ISN’T the word.

           Help is right around the corner, and in the event it isn’t… You better get comfy. While beautiful, the island offers it’s own dark past — rich with sinister secrets and purpose. Whether you you side with faith or science, you will be tested.

                                NOW IT’S TIME TO LIVE.

Keep reading

[mbp--a]

                                 ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇ ᴄʀᴀsʜᴇᴅ.

           It’s unbelievable how quickly life can spiral out of control. Unfortunately for the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815, it’s equally as unbelievable how quickly a plane can get over a thousand miles off course — and crash land into a mysterious and seemingly deserted island. Bodies strewn among the wreckage serve as a reminder to how lucky the remaining passengers are. Though perhaps lucky isn’t the word.

            Help is right around the corner, and in the event it isn’t… You better get comfy. While beautiful, the island offers it’s own dark past — rich with sinister secrets and purpose. Whether you you side with faith or science, you will be tested.

                                 ɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛ’s ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ.

In order to join this group, you must be 18+ ooc.

This group verse is open to canon characters only. While we may open this up to original characters in the future, we are not currently accepting them.

Keep reading

[harvestwitxh-blog]

   do monsters make war or does war make monsters?

[throwingbourbon-blog]

bourbonandheels:

The light touch across his shoulders came from a place of habit or instinct more than anywhere else. She wanted to do so much more— stroke along the side of his neck, rub her hands down his chest, nibble at his ear, make him squirm… but she was getting ahead of herself. Far, far ahead. She anticipated a billion questions, arguing, and explanations. For one thing, she wasn’t too pleased with him for enlisting in this war in the first place.

Katherine made a tutting sound when he pulled against the ropes. “Now, now. There’s no use in that. You’ll only make yourself weaker.” It had been necessary, because she couldn’t have him breaking free immediately in case he became violent and murderous. Not that she couldn’t take him in a fight or that he might attack her, though that was a possibility, but because it was much cleaner to have him restrained than risk bloodying up the cruise ship their first day on the water. There was time for that later, and besides, Katherine liked to control the situation.

She smiled at his counter-question. “No… I rather like having you all tied up this way, mon cher.” Katherine was not in the habit of using pet names, but she imagined her invented persona was. It was easy to mimic him, too. “Now, you should answer me, while I’m still being nice.” Her hand was still resting delicately on his shoulder, and Katherine dug a nail into his flesh. Not enough to break skin, but enough to accentuate her point. “What are you doing fighting for America?”

Who was she? It was the biggest question Damon had now as his mind struggled to place the voice. There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that the vampire ignored – any similarities between this woman and Katherine were projections. They had to be. Eighty years later and the older vampire still had as strong as a grasp on his heart as she had back in Mystic Falls during the Civil War. He’d get her out of that tomb eventually, one day.

And who the hell was she to tie these ropes soaked in vervain so tightly?! Every time he pulled or gave his wrist a twist he could feel his skin burn and react, causing him to grunt and grit his teeth in response. This woman had to be, clearly, someone who knew what she was doing. But her voice wasn’t one that he recognized as have being someone he had wronged lately. “Yes, because this is so much more fun,” his lips were pulled into what he would call a charming smile, but his words dripped sarcasm.

This strategy wasn’t working, as he was still blind-folded and strapped to a chair on some kind of ship somewhere. “If you like this so much, you should see how much fun I can be without the ropes.” Charming flirtations had generally helped him in the past, so why not now? Damon thought it a solid plan, at least until he felt the pressure of her nail on his shoulder. “Ow – what the hell?” Unable to smack her hand away, his hands clenched into fists. “Let’s just call it my patriotic duty.”

[throwingbourbon-blog]

neuroticbcrbie:

@throwingbourbon was spotted in mystic falls.

“ don’t be mad … i might’ve done something. something - bad. “

“What the hell did you do?” And before she could chicken out, he stepped in front of her path. “Spill your guts, Blondie.”

[petrcvadcppelganger-blog]

³⁰⁰ ᶠᵒᶫᶫᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵇᶦᵃˢ ᶫᶦˢᵗ

I don’t know how, or why, this happened, but somehow I made it to 300 followers. I’m pretty sure most of you need help if you actually like me, and a whole bunch of these are porn blogs, but I don’t care. I have wonderful followers and I’m so honored that you guys think I’m quality enough to write with you. Because I don’t think I’m quality at all. So here’s the bias list.

ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ᶠᵉᵉᶫ ᵃᶫᶦᵛᵉ ⁽ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶰᵉˢ ᴵ ʷʳᶦᵗᵉ ʷᶦᵗʰ ʳᵉᵍᵘᶫᵃʳᶫʸ ⁾

@immortallionheart @bennettprxdigy @xinebriated @eternalguilt @xxstefan @ellisindierps @desireshappiness  @niiklausx @lcstway @seesgood

ᵍᶦᵐᵐᵉ ᵍᶦᵐᵐᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ⁽ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶰᵉˢ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵉᶰᵒᵘᵍʰ ˢᵗᵘᶠᶠ ʷᶦᵗʰ ⁾

@spiritofhelll @bekahxsweetheart @ripperbcund @anditsxsorrows @eternalstud @throwingbourbon @ofepicism @ofgallantry @thecarnival @originalreddoor @bourbonandheels @icxnholdon @icountonme @violentvervain @hisdesigns @principecorvo @hellofasurvivor @gcminikaii @suitsofarmor @sinfulhumanity @equesxinferno

ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁽ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶰᵉˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ᶜᵃˢᵘᵃᶫᶫʸ ˢᵗᵃᶫᵏᶦᶰᵍ ᵃᶰᵈ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵒᶰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶰᵒᵗᶦᶜᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁾

@petrovasreign @heavnlymuses @niklausplaystowin @thebroodingone @cruelestdemons @lxveneverdies @causeimadick @fyeahlittlegilbert @talkofvirtue @nowimamxnster @lockpup @lastlockwood @the-stud-muffin @fiercerebekah @kolhearted @carolinesnotbrokenjustbent @wclfbait @originallycanthrope @originlc

Gіveɑvvаy

I’m not entirely great at photoshop but I do make (most of) my own icons so I thought I’d try this giveaway thing that people do. I’m going to keep it to 3 people and I will use a random generator to pick the winners. 1st will get 100 icons of their chosen face. 2nd will get 50 icons. and 3rd will get 25. You do not have to use the face that your character has. You are allowed to request these not for yourself as well. Just let me know who you want them sent to.

Rules:

Must be following me (and please don’t unfollow me after this is done because that would make me sad).

Reblogs only count.

Pretty easy rules I think. So I’m going to keep this open until 03/31/17 at noon CDT. I will post an example for icons a little later.

[throwingbourbon-blog]

@bourbonandheels continued from (x)

This war had been supposed to be him and Stefan fighting together. Brothers, both in the sense of as they had always been, but also in arms. Making the decision to leave without a word to Stefan hadn’t been what he wanted, but it had been the right thing, and for that reason Damon had stuck to it. Being a soldier was something that he had known, it was familiar to him, even if he had never been the best or most rule abiding.

Technology had come a long way since the Civil war and his time in the confederate army, but the purpose, the reasons, and the orders were much the same. It was boredom, paired with the knowledge that this was something he could survive that allowed him the freedom to maneuver undetected, and mostly unknown. But as always, he never denied his true nature of who and what he was, and so when the American Troops descended on Paris for a weekend of debauchery and fun he hadn’t hesitated to join in.

And separate from the less than intelligent men he had been surrounded by so the REAL fun could begin.

It had been years since Damon had had to worry about anyone besting him, it was the beauty of all that came with the immortal life Stefan had chosen for them. It was why he had never expected anyone to sneak up behind him and interrupt his fun.

The feeling of hands quickly grasping his neck had been the last thing he remembered, and as his eyes began to open and he struggled against his binds, Damon could only hiss through his teeth at the sudden pain. Vervain.

“What the hell?” The vampire grumbled only to call out – amidst the darkness because really? A blindfold? – “Where am I?”

His heightened senses picked up the footfalls of someone walking near. Whoever it was, they knew at least what he was. Quickly he got to work, trying to figure out exactly who he was up against. It had to be someone strong to sneak up behind him and snap his neck, and someone who definitely knew that he had was a vampire, otherwise they wouldn’t have known about vervain or to use it.

The light touch caused Damon to jerk in his seat in surprise, and then confusion. It was familiar…yet somehow different. It was a touch that he would have sworn he hadn’t felt in nearly EIGHTY YEARS, but that was impossible. Katherine was still stuck in that tomb, and he was still looking for a way to get her out.

“I could,” he drawled easily. If this was Lexi’s doing he was going to kill her, Stefan’s friend or not. “Why don’t you loosen these binds and I’ll tell you all about it, sweetheart?”

[throwingbourbon-blog]

i’m here i’m here! i have so much to get to but the wind is making my internet unreliable AF. to my new followers - hi! i’m excited to write with you, and i apologize in advance for the trash that i am. <3