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#bartend
aspirinqs · 2 years
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@bartend​
    “i must confess, sam, i struggle to believe that this boat of yours is anything but a fiction.”
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    “should you want to characterize yourself, you want to characterize yourself. fine. i understand. go right ahead,” she tosses her hand, and cites the acquired colloquialism: “knock yourself out. but, sailing? sea mist? a – high sun's glitter sprinkled upon a gentler wave’s caress? the sam malone i know would never feel inclined toward something so tame.”
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animentality · 1 year
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Obsessed with this girl. Queen shit.
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duuhrayliegh · 5 months
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consequences
a/n: I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS CAME FROM BUT HERE YOU GO
also i'm more than happy to continue this if yall want more, just LET ME KNOW
other works
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“You want to what?"
"To open our relationship."
You stare at him in disbelief, clutching the soft blanket in your hands. There's a sharp ringing sounding through your eardrums and everything around you slows. He keeps talking, his voice breaking through the barrier of fog that encompasses your senses.
"I want us to remain honest with each other, but this is the only way to keep our relationship healthy."
He steps away from the kitchen counter, wearing the sports jacket you bought him for your sister's wedding.
"I want the both of us to disclose when we start dating someone else. That's the main boundary, we can hammer out all the ground rules later. Right now, I'm going on a date, so uh," he pauses as he checks his reflection in the mirror beside the door one last time, "don't wait up."
You try to focus on his words, but no matter your efforts you weren't able to process anything. His keys jangle in his grip and you faintly recognize the sound of the door slamming closed and his footsteps echoing down the empty corridor of your apartment.
"I still can't believe he said that to you."
The singular ice ball hits against the sides of your glass with each tilt of your wrist. You take a long drag of the dark liquor before laughing sardonically.
"It's been six months of him parading his dates around." Another sip, your work skirt digs into your thighs painfully. You distract yourself by reaching for a peanut from the nearly empty bowl. "And what's worse is that he still expects me to be the doting wife that he comes home to every night!"
The bartender refills your glass while you sneak another peanut. You card your fingers through your hair as you continue to rant. A dull throb radiates in between your brows so your eyes slide closed as you take deep breaths.
"Well, I can't imagine you're doing so bad yourself."
You hum questioningly at the man, focusing your gaze on the dark-haired bartender, his stubble dusting his sharp jaw as the muscles work beneath the skin. His eyes haven't left you since you sat down in front of him.
"I see you in here." You begin to pick at the skin around your nails and he nudges a bowl of peanuts in your direction. "Men come up to you all the time. You've been on dates too, right?"
You reach for a peanut and crack open the grainy shell, biting the inside of your cheek. Your bartender laughs incredulously and then presses his hands into his side of the counter to lean over toward you. The cloth he tosses over his shoulder must be damp because the fabric of his white button-up is darkened there.
"Focus on me, Peanut."
Your eyes snap to his, unable to keep the overflow of expression from brimming beneath the surface. Your heart cracks further as he visibly softens, crumpling against the counter to cover your hand with his. A tense silence stretches between the two of you, charging the air with unwelcome emotions.
Your bartender’s spare hand cups your jaw and swipes away the glistening tears fleeing down your cheeks. Sniffling loudly while straightening in your seat, you pull away from his touch—effectively stopping yourself from melting into him.
You’ve worked so hard to make this shitty dive bar your safe place, you’ll be damned if you ruin it with a fling.
“I don’t even know why I’m wasting tears on this whole thing.” You take three deep breaths—whiskey and apples invade your senses. The man in front of you tilts his head to the side while drying a few crystal glasses.
“You’re avoiding my question, Peanut.” He turns briefly and you try to figure a way out as the cups clink softly. “You have been dating too, right?”
Your teeth trap your bottom lip, peeling off the thin layers of skin. You purposely avoid his eyes, doing less than nothing to hide your answer.
“Jesus, Peanut. What’s stopping you?”
You huff, focusing your attention on the patrons around you. There’s noticeably less than there were when you first arrived. The bar guests go about their business, underlying emotions kept close to their chest and out of sight to everyone else. You wish you could be that way, instead of sewing your heart to your sleeve for anyone to rip pieces from.
“I--" You hesitate, twirling your glass, watching as the ice fights to keep up with the sudden movements you force on its surroundings.
"Some small part of me still loves him. No matter how much he hurts me with this whole open relationship bullshit. I'm still thinking that one day he'll wake up and remember that I've been his loving wife and partner for the past six years. This can't be my new reality. It just can't. He's meant to be my partner for life, not my partner who has really good friends. Not my partner with a girlfriend or some fuck buddy across town."
This is the can of worms that you'd hoped to keep locked away from the Commando's dive bar. What you've held close to your chest every night you slink past the blonde bouncer, Steve. The information you never let slip to the six-foot-five bartender with the metal arm. And now, you can't seem to stop the words from leaving your mouth.
"He's supposed to be my husband. Why isn't he my husband? Is it me? He said that we would talk about what the reason was, but I can't get him to sit down with me. I can't even get him to reply to a text, much less answer questions about our relationship."
You spit the last word before downing the rest of your drink in one go. Bucky stands patiently as you let loose every emotion that you've bottled up for the past six years. Further in the bar, someone shouts for the last call.
"Why don't I date? Because I love him. Because outside of him, I don't know who I am. I don't date because I've been with the same man for almost a decade and I wouldn't even know where to begin. I can't see past where I'm at right now. There is no future for me outside of the hell that I find myself in now. I can't date because I want to be there for when my husband remembers that I exist. I want to be there for him like he wasn't for me because I know the novelty of his flings will wear off soon enough. And maybe that makes me worse than him, but I don't know if I have the energy to care anymore."
There's now a heavy silence covering you and your whole body slumps because of it. Despite feeling the biggest breath of relief of getting those emotions out in the open, you now have to deal with what they mean. You were always taught that saying your emotions out loud would only lead to more issues, but here you fucking are. Sometimes these things are unavoidable.
"I call bullshit."
Your jaw drops as your bartender rocks away from the counter. You flounder as he starts performing closing duties. You stare at Bucky's back, slightly distracted by the muscles working underneath the tight material.
"Did you just bullshit my feelings?"
Bucky turns halfway, eyebrows raised, "Yep."
Your bartender plucks the glass in front of you and drops it in the sink on his way to the cash register. If you were in a whole state, you'd smack back with a witty comment, but you're tired.
"You can't bullshit my feelings."
He holds a stack of twenties in one hand and he pins you with the same expression as before.
"Uh, yeah I can."
He continues to count the register and tosses a goodbye to the other bartender. A long lull stretches between you. Now it's just the two of you in the bar, and that must have been what he was waiting on because it's only now that he really talks.
"Peanut, how long have you been coming here?"
You furrow your brow at the question, not sure where he's taking his line of questioning.
"I don't know, four months?"
“Four months, twenty days."
Bucky's retort is quick and final. A fact. Something he's committed to memory. You're taken aback by the heavy tone he layers between the syllables.
"And for those four months and twenty days, I've stood behind this counter and watched you wallow. I've watched you turn down proposition after proposition. I've had Steve throw out dozens of men for how they speak about you. I've sat back and tried to be the listening ear that you need because you're clearly going through a really difficult time. I've never been in the position that you're in and I'm not going to pretend that I understand the half of it."
He slams the drawer closed and rounds the countertop. His boots thud against the floor violently, stopping beside the barstool next to you. Your bartender leans down and swings your stool to face his before taking a seat.
"I've stood behind that bar and was able to listen to quite a bit. But what I can't have is you thinking that you're the issue."
His hand slips into yours, his thumb tracing the knuckles of your fingers. Tears begin to brim at your waterline again, but you refuse to let them fall.
"Peanut, you're the most loyal person I've met in recent years. You love fiercely and you hurt even harder. Hell, you've been with this guy for almost ten years and he's been fucking you over for the past six months and you're sitting in this bar defending him to a relative stranger!"
"But he--"
"You're husband took the decision away from you and then framed it in a way that made you out to be the bad guy. He put you in a nearly impossible situation because he knew you were too loyal to him to do anything about it."
"He didn--"
"Yes, he did."
Having it laid out like that by the one person you wanted to be kept away from all of it was eye-opening. Your shoulders crumple and a new wave of tears threatens to escape.
"Now, this isn't the best time, but I feel like in a situation like yours there's never going to be a 'right' time."
Bucky sits up straighter and sticks his metal hand out to you.
"Hi. I'm Bucky Barnes. I'm a retired Army Sergeant and I now work in the Howling Commandos bar. I've been your bartender for the past four months and twenty days. Over that time, I've grown to care for you, more than a bartender should. Because of that fact, I want to take you out on a date."
You suck in a breath sharply, immediately going to deny him, only for Bucky to cut you off.
"You don't have to give me an answer right now, Peanut. Just think about it and whenever you're ready, I hope I'm your first call."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, gnawing on the idea. You have grown fond of Bucky. He's become a sort of safety net for you these past few months. Going home has proven to be more and more of a chore so you spend hours on end in the Howling Commandos.
What if you and Bucky go on a date and you hate it? What if you date and you have a huge falling out? What if you--
"I can see the wheels turning, Peanut." He taps your temple with a cold metal finger. "What are you thinking?"
"What if we end up not working out?"
"What if we do?"
The question hangs. The implication is clear. You could spend hours going through the what-if scenarios, both positive and negative. You'll never truly know until you take a leap of faith.
"What would your boss think of you dating one of your new regulars though?"
You're grasping at straws, but you're really trying to convince yourself that taking that leap with Bucky would be the worst thing in the world.
"Peanut, I'll sell the damn bar before someone other than you tells me that I can't date you."
Your eyes meet his and all you can see is the adoration and sincerity in them. His thumb is still working over your knuckles, but it's also expanded to tracing aimless circles into the back of your hand. The cool metal is the only way you've grounded yourself to reality.
A slow smile spreads across your features, the first of its kind tonight and you both know what it means.
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jazzyaintjayz · 2 months
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i think we should normalize demigods growing up to be average people. bc rick really went out there and said george washington and harriet tubman were demigods but just think about this for a second-
"ah yes that gas station attendant is a son of hermes, god of travelers"
there's simultaneously so much and so little potential here
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hungryghostpress · 1 year
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The Never Sleeper Tumbler glasses Oh yeah and recipe for the drink is online 🥃 Photographer & recipe: @raaashl #hungryghostpress #hungryghost #neversleep #sleep #tumbler #glass #glassware #vintage #kitchen #bar #barroom #barcounter #drink #drinking #witch #goth #tired #bartend #home #homedecor #photo #photography #shop #cocktail #vinyl #stereo #audiophile (at Hungry Ghost Press) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cpu-6IpM_nF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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pirateprincessjess · 19 days
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One time I walked into a bar and the bartender looked at me and said “Hey! I am ready for more train facts!”
I had never seen this person in my life, but apparently another woman, who also happened to be a transwoman, and who looked a lot like me sat at the bar and told her a bunch of facts about trains.
I really want to meet the train fact lady
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the-witchhunter · 9 months
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DP x DC: Wait... this isn’t a gay bar??
I was just thinking about Danny as a bartender at a rogues bar and then it struck me...
Danny thinks he works at a gay bar
Why? Well, have you looked at the clients? Bisexual queen Harley Quinn, lesbian icon Poison Ivy, Two Face is clearly bi(two)sexual and has a thing with Bruce Wayne, Scarecrow is probably ace or maybe aro, Riddler is at the very least homo romantic, hell, even if Red hood comes by he’s bi/pan AND poly
What I’m saying is, based off the clientele, Danny would think he works at a gay bar 
and based on the evidence they have a hard time disagreeing with him
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789152tmbs · 1 year
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#bubblingbrunch #2023 Thank you again for let me part of this beautiful event made with so much love. @richlung64 @Nelitojunior #bartenderlife #bartender #bartenderstyle #bartenderlove #bartenders #bartending #bartend #bartenderskills #bartenderlifestyle #bartenderslife #thebartender #bartendersweekend #bartenderoftheday #bartenderprofesional #bartenderforlife #ctbartenders #bestbartender #bartenderschoice #bartenderday #bartenderbrasil #bartendersportal #bartendersbelike #bartenderworld #bartendersofinstagram #bartenderon #bartendershow #bartendersbar #bartenderpro (at Redding, Connecticut) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm8Q1dwubzj/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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catchymemes · 2 years
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frownyalfred · 2 years
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Alcohol tips for newbie writers (or non drinkers!):
At bars, people who order “chasers” after their shots are ordering something to wash down the taste of their shot with. This can be juice, soda, more alcohol, or even pickle juice
Hard liquor is generally sold in stores as shots (tiny bottles), fifths, liters, and handles or in ml (50, 100, 200 etc)
Most people can’t finish an entire fifth of hard liquor (vodka, etc) on their own without being very ill
Conversely, many people can finish an entire bottle of wine on their own without being ill
Liquor can be “bottom shelf” or “rail” or “well” -- all synonyms for the cheapest version of alcohol a bartender has. Bars generally keep several “levels” of alcohol stocked
You order a drink with the alcohol first, then the mix -- e.g., a “vodka soda” or a “Tito’s and tonic”
When you “close out a tab”, you pay for all of the drinks you’ve had that night. Either the bartender already has your card (you “opened a tab” earlier) or it was quiet enough that they just kept an eye on you and tallied your bill up at the end
“Doubles” are drinks or shots with double the standard pour of alcohol
In the US, most shots (pours) are 1.5 oz by default. 
Mixed drinks (gin and tonic, vodka lemonade, cosmos, etc) are generally made up of 1-2 shots and a mixer 
If you don’t specify which type of alcohol you’d like in a mixed drink (vodka cranberry, for example) the bartender will put whatever the “house” liquor is -- and this depends entirely on the establishment. A dive bar will pour rail by default, whereas a nicer tavern might make all vodka cranberries with Tito’s
PLEASE TIP YOUR BARTENDERS THEY WILL REMEMBER YOU I PROMISE
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papas-majadas · 1 year
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Sunday, November 20th, 2022 -- I celebrated my five year anniversary of bartending at the Bob Inn.
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venuiscmind · 2 months
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Bartender!Ellie & Co-Worker!Ellie <3.
Just some headcannons for the 3-5 part series im cooking up since I finally have time to write!!! Please show some love for this as it will really motivate me to write more for this. Smut below!
read this.
w.c 1.1k
Bartender! Ellie who has you stunned the first day you see her in her all black, tight, fitted uniform. Sleeves rolled up to her veiny, tattooed forearms, dripping with the syrup from the cocktails she was shaking over her shoulders. Dark, black pants that fit her legs perfectly as she moves around the bar.
Bartender! Ellie who keeps her eyes fixed on you while you bend down to hear a customer's order in the busy and loud bar. You turn feeling eyes on you but only see Ellie turning back to pour a drink for a customer.
Bartender! Ellie who gradually opens the buttons of her black shirt during her shift when it gets too hot, showing off the pale but flushed and sweaty skin underneath, adorned with glinting silver chains.
Bartender! Ellie who flirts back with all the pretty girls who press themselves against the bar trying to give her their number. (She throws them out after every shift because they’re lacking something she can't place).
Bartender! Ellie who is immediately in the face of a man who has stepped a little too close to you and has gotten too loud and rude for her liking.
Bartender! Ellie who drives a pretty, sleek car to work and is constantly offering you rides to and from work because you shouldn't have to worry about driving yourself.
Bartender! Ellie who keeps you up till 5am after your shift texting you about anything and everything she could think of to keep you talking, all because she liked hearing you talk.
Bartender! Ellie who pull off her shirt over her head and immediately sinks against the heat of the shower but can't get you out of her head for some reason.
Bartender! Ellie who is constantly offering to make you drinks after your shift when the bar has been closed down, leaving only the two of you to lock up together.
Bartender! Ellie who has to keep her eyes focused on pouring your drink instead of looking at the curves of your form sitting up on the top of the dark marble counter. Her heart (and other places) flutter seeing you like this.
Bartender! Ellie who's tattoo flexes while she clenches her fists when you're not looking, trying to keep herself grounded while she watches your legs cross atop the bar, something she would never be able to catch if she hadn't secretely swapped shifts to be able to lock up with you.
Bartender! Ellie who takes off her apron and button up shirt to change into a loose dark hoodie that makes you swallow hard. She pulls up her hood letting loose tendrils of hair fall out of it before manspreading and turning her keys in the ignition.
Bartender! Ellie who keeps on the silver rings she wears during her shift to clench the steering wheel as she speeds into your neighbourhood blaring music with the windows open at 4am after work. (She later swears she wasn't even driving that fast).
Bartender! Ellie who has to take a breath when you invite her into your house which is impossibly tidy and she actually offers to take off her shoes because of this.
Bartender! Ellie who has to hold back her questions of whether she can marry you or not when you offer her glasses of water and bits of food you can scrounge up for her.
Bartender! Ellie who stares at you, feeling her pupils dilate and her breathing turn rough just looking at you standing in your kitchen.
Bartender! Ellie who stands up and hooks her arms around your middle and rests her head on your shoulder as you do the dishes at 5am.
Bartender! Ellie who begs you to "please tell me I'm not the only one who feels like this because I can't keep ignoring this because fu-".
Bartender! Ellie who is shocked when you turn around to put her face in your hands and smile at her, inches from her face, stroking lovingly. When she slowly moves forward you pull back an inch wanting to savour this look on her face, basking in the mutual desire that you both felt.
Bartender! Ellie who whispers " are you sure"? against your lips with her green eyes boring into your own. You nod, and murmur "Yes ellie, I've been sure for weeks" and press your soft lips into her soft and slightly chapped lips.
Bartender! Ellie who has to move her hands from your hips to the counter to steady herself once she allows herself to give into the sensation of kissing you. She can't think with her hand and mouth full of you, and only you.
Bartender! Ellie who pulls back and finds herself being pulled into your bedroom, your fingers interlaced with hers, never leaving her seperated from you again.
Bartender! Ellie who sits back on your bed, watching in awe of the woman before her, as you strip off your work shirt and pants, leaving you in your soft underwear in the light of dawn, peaking through your curtains.
Bartender! Ellie who grips your hips like her life depends on it when you climb into her lap and lies back against the sheets, face and skin turning pink as you press yourself against her toned body.
Bartender! Ellie who lets you strip her down in kind and lets you kiss down between her tits, pawing at them as you press your lips against the soaked spot on her black boxers. She has to remember to breathe when you pull them down leaving her in nothing.
Bartender! Ellie who feels exposed and vulnerable, shaking underneath you while you lick and slurp against her soaked pussy, tasting her like she was the sweetest thing in the world.
Bartender! Ellie who groans out "oh fuck me, right there"- and holds your head gently against her clit when you suck on that spot that has her arching off the bed, her eyes rolling back into her skull. She wraps her legs around your head and shoulders and begs, actually begs you not to stop because she is so fucking close to cumming all over your tongue.
Bartender! Ellie who forgets to breathe again when she feels your fingers press against her slicked and soaked entrance and push into her causing her to melt, shake and press against you to push them deeper inside of her.
Bartender! Ellie who cums when you suck just at the right time with your fingers pushing in and out of her, hitting that sweet spot in her over and over.
Bartender! Ellie who pulls you up by then chin to kiss you, and taste herself fom your mouth and brings your hand up to your lips to taste her again. She then kisses you deeper than you had ever been kissed, tongue invanding your senses until all you can think of is her and her only.
LOL i actually got so horny writing this but hope you enjoyed!!! more to come very soon i promise <;3. - Venuis!
Btw asks and submissions are open so give me some inspo plsplspls xxxx
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mombod-apparel · 1 year
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bartender shirt
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payasita · 3 months
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fashion
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devinedoll · 7 days
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rafe cameron frequently needed a reminder that it was okay to live a little. and in the bahamas, where no one knew him, you were just the girl for the job.
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“seriously,” rafe questions, “right here?”
you press his back against your vintage bronco, and drop to your knees in front of him. the two of you are hidden behind your beloved car, but you’re still out in the open. you’d taken him to a secluded beach in an unfamiliar part of the island, rafe was grateful for the tour, but he was even more grateful for the generosity of the tour guide.
you blink up at him, doe-eyed and horny, “c’monnnn rafe!” you say, hands pulling at his belt to unbuckle it, “let’s have fun!”
he stares down at you, “something tells me this isn’t your first time doin’ this kid.”
you grin when you pull his white boxers down, “i’ve had my fun.”
he shakes his head at this, “you’re 19, how much fun could you have had?” he questions, curling his fingers in your hair when you begin placing open mouth kisses up the side of his shaft, “actually, don’t answer that.”
you giggle at this, looking up at him through your lashes as you trail your tongue along the underside of his cock.
you grip his thigh with your small hand, wrapping your lips around the tip with a small hum, your tongue hit with salty precum. you flick your tongue at him, taking him deeper when he applies pressure to the back of your head.
“shit,” he breathes, “that’s it.”
he tilts his chin, looking down at you. he watches as you bob on him, one hand holding him for stability while the other jerks his base. there’s spit bubbling at the seams of your lips, and he can’t help himself from bucking into you, “god.”
you smile at this, pulling off of him with a pop to mumble out a thank you, polite as ever. he keeps his eyes trained on yours, the way you look so eager to please. rafe grits his teeth when his tip hits the back of your throat, ears perking like a dog at the wet gag that follows.
“good fuckin’ girl.” he groans when you pull off, his other hand coming down to caress your face gently. there are tears on your face from the gags you released, your mascara smudged beneath your wide eyes. you look like a slut, he thinks. his slut.
he lets out a strangled moan when you latch back on, mumbling out a declaration about being close.
your lip quirks at this, happily taking his cum in your throat, swallowing his release with a satisfied smile.
“see?” you chirp, wiping your lips with your thumb, “that was fun.”
rafe laughs slightly, pulling you up to kiss you. you were good for rafe, whether he knew it or not.
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filthy-vigilante · 11 months
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What are Dick's hobbies in Canon? What does he like to do outside of being Nightwing? I don't know to much about him beside his general personality.
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