buying beer

anonymous asked:

whats the gayest thing that has ever happened to you?

tbh this is rly hard like. once i kissed my first love goodbye in the snow in february. once cole & i spent all night riding our bikes around toronto & going to the park & kissing at sunrise & it was like the entirety of ribs in a single experience. kara drove like three hours to buy me my favorite beer for christmas. in college one of my friends not even someone i was dating took me as a surprise to see lorde at the filmore. one summer evening in college abbigail & i went to this balcony in berkeley off of an art gallery & we had chardonnay & there was this cool ambient music & it was like we just Understood. like Summers later in a club in toronto i was dancing w abbigail & i said ‘i’ve waited three years to kiss you again’ & it was so nice. lil embarrassing bc we then made out like teenagers & i ignored my friends but whatever lol what can u do. once i was walking back to cole’s apartment in the first snow of winter in toronto & cole held my hand & asked me if all of this was real & i said yes & cole kissed me & cried so

sry to expose everyone but y'all have made my life so gay love u all ✌️️

Straight White Boy Problem #994

Bro: I’m not racist but….

Me: *stops looking at snapchat* what

Bro: *closes his MacBook which has a vineyard vines sticker on it* i don’t understand why there are protests about Black Lives Matter, Donald Trump’s election, and everything else! there’s always protests about something. people need to get over themselves

Me: dude…….you realize you are complaining about free speech and that’s exactly what you just used right now!!! dude…

bro: *puts his MacBook in his north face backpack* you know…I thought you were chill…but now…i’m not going to buy you beer for the party on saturday see ya *walks away*

Me: no please wait I don’t have a fake

do you ever just want to cry because jason momoa is a real person? he looks so big and scary and he could also snap you in half if he hugged you too hard but he’s so goofy and adorable, he just really loves guinness and his family and if he stood on your foot, he’d probably apologise like crazy and buy you a beer and a burger like….i just want to cry he’s so pure

wurwolf  asked:

We're getting a Wegman's out here in Lancaster in late 2018 and it's like the whole city has lost its goddamn mind


It’s a supermarket, but also a FUCKIN FOOD COURT, 


Like…it was like culture shock when I finally set foot in one which was like last year. In all my years I’ve never been to one before, never heard of them. And then my coworkers just say, “Yeah let’s go to Wegman’s for lunch.” And I’m just…it’s a supermarket how you doin that??

I guess Gov. Wolf approves too.

i started writing when i was 15 – i wrote bad teenage poetry. 14 years later i have a comic coming out nationally with my wife @lisasterle and during the day i’m the editor/writer of a local news website.

i never dreamed i’d be able to call myself a writer when i was working at white castle, or tj maxx, or when i was selling dildos at a sex store or having an emotional breakdown in the bathroom of a chipotle because i just fired another employee after 9 months of 80 hour weeks. i never dreamed i’d be able to call myself a writer after i was laid off after 3.5 years working for a startup doing their social media, or when i was making ice cream or when i worked as a janitor. work has been my life.

i didn’t go to college and i never thought i’d get to say that i make my living, pay my rent, feed my dog, cook my wife dinner and buy beer with the money i make from writing.

the truth is though that the last stuff doesnt matter – i mean it does. yeah, i get it. but in the end it is about a mentality. i kept doing this because i loved it. it took 14 years of stupid hard work. of not writing for MONTHS, of taking breaks and then destroying myself and then beating dark souls for the fifth time then writing some more then putting 2,000 hours on dota 2 then writing some more.

life sucks, and it is hard, and things are unfair but at the end of the day if you do what you love, and create something and are able to own that thing, and be yourself you’ll find happiness. it just might take a while.

anonymous asked:

Old guy came through my line with a beer yesterday. I keep trying to ring it and it won't ring. Finally I say, "Sir, did this come out of a 6-pack?" He says yes. "Sir you have to buy the whole pack." "But I only need the one!" Finally my manager comes over and tells him the exact same thing and he leaves. My guy. You can't just take an item from a set like that. That's like taking a single soda out of a box and trying to buy just the one. It just doesn't work like that.

Who the fuck even buys just the one can? If you’re buying beer I would assume you’d want to get at least a little buzzed, which with the low alcohol content in beer is going to take the whole damn 6 pack. -Abby

Flashbacks (Based on DNA by Lia Marie Johnson)

Summary: Dean and the reader have an argument and the reader gets flashbacks of her childhood.

Words: 1159

Warnings: drinking, abusive father, very descriptive argument with domestic violence

Song I Listened to While Writing: DNA by Lia Marie Johnson

A/N: This was another very emotionally taxing fic to write because of personal ties to the subjects of both abuse and alcoholism.

—-Yes I am taking up extra space because there is a big argument scene at the very beginning—-

La di da di da, taking up space….

Do not read if you are triggered by domestic violence….

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

You were 12 the first time you actually saw your parents fighting. You heard something about money, how your dad was buying beer rather than paying rent and utilities.

“You have a problem! Normal people don’t do this! You need help!” your mom pleaded.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! How dare you walk around in the apartment that I pay for and insist that I have a problem!” Your father grabbed your mother’s scraggly, loose pony tail and used it to throw her against a wall.

You ran into your room and closed the door, covering your head with a pillow in a desperate attempt to muffle your mother’s screams and the sound of your father’s fists and palms hitting her soft, gentle flesh. You prayed that he wouldn’t come into your room next and take his anger out on you yet again. You thought you heard police sirens. Red and blue lights were flashing outside your bedroom window.

What felt like hours later, your mother came in. Her cheeks and chin were beginning to turn purple, her wrists had clear marks from where your father had pulled her around. Yet that was just the visible wounds.

“Y/N, you have to promise me you will never fall in love with someone with anger issues. Promise me, Y/N.” she begged, holding her your tiny hand in her larger one. Goosebumps rose up out of your skin at her touch.

“I promise.” You whispered, looking down at the bed to avoid seeing her bruises.


You and Dean never fought. Sure, you had stupid little catfights every now and then, but who didn’t? You were aware he had a bit of a temper issue, but you never figured it was bad enough that you would break your promise to your mother. You knew Dean would never hit you. You never told Dean about the promise. You never told him about your father, either. It wasn’t that you were trying to hide it, it was just that you never saw a reason for him to know.

Over the course of about a year, a tension started to build between you and Dean. It was impossible for you not to feel it. Dean would bring booze back to the motel room and drink until he passed out. Not that you could blame him. After all, the poor guy did literally go to hell and back. But to you, it seemed like all he ever did was drink.

“Dean, can you put down that damn bottle for one night? Please?” You asked.

“What’s so wrong with it, Y/N?” he replied, his green eyes bloodshot from drinking for days upon days in a row.

“It’s not good for you, Dean.” You said, looking down at your boots, trying to avoid eye contact with him.

“We’ve all had a long hunt. What’s wrong with having a drink or two to wind down before bed?” He asked.

“The fact that you can’t stop is what’s wrong with it.” You muttered.

“What?” He asked.

“Never mind. It won’t matter anyway…” You trailed off.

“What won’t matter?” he asked, walking over to you.

“It won’t matter if I speak my mind or not because you won’t take me seriously. You’ll just think I’m nagging or something.”

“Seriously, Y/N. What is it? I want to know.” He questioned, defensively crossing his arms, his drink still in his hand.

“You have a problem, Dean! Normal people don’t drink until they pass out every night!” You shouted. Sam got up from his spot at the table and left the motel room.

“You think I have a problem?! Normal people don’t drink until they pass out every night? Well, guess what, Y/N? I’m not normal! None of us are normal!” He set his drink down on the night stand before standing directly in front of you, “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

You flinched as he pulled you up from the bed you were lying on.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! How dare you walk around in the apartment that I pay for and insist that I have a problem?!” Your father’s words were all you could hear. For a split second you almost heard his voice instead of Dean’s.

“Now, what is your problem with all this?” He said. You felt yourself flinch again as he put his hand on your shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter. It won’t change anything. You clearly don’t care enough to even attempt to see things from my point of view.” You said, backing away from him.

“How can I see things from your point of view if you don’t let me in? Why do you have a problem with me drinking at night?”

“Because you never stop, Dad!” Before you knew it, the words flew out of your mouth.

You turned and ran into the bathroom, locking the door. You couldn’t believe what you just said. If Dean could get to you, he would beat for sure even though he had never done so before in the past.

You hid under the covers as your father entered your room. The door slammed against the wall as he forced it open. Suddenly, the blankets were ripped from over top of you and you were being lifted into the air.

“How dare you tell your mother I was drinking again! What’s wrong with having a drink after a long day at work!” He screamed, dropping you back on to your bed.

“Because you never stop, Dad…” you trailed.

“You know I can stop if I want.” He stated, slamming the door on his way out. Soon after you heard your mother start screaming again.

“Y/N, open the door! Please, baby. Just open the door.” Dean pleaded with you.

You undid the lock and Dean slowly entered the room. Tears were streaming down your face as he sat down next you. You flinched as he grabbed your hand.

“What’s the matter?” He asked, grabbing some toilet paper to dry your eyes.

“Why does it matter to you?” You asked, turning away from him.

“Because you looked like you just saw a ghost.” Dean said.

“That’s because I did. A ghost from my past…” You trailed off.

“Tell me. I want to know.” He said, pulling you into his lap.

“My father was an abusive drunk. He’d beat my mother for the fun of it and if he still wasn’t settled down enough, I was next.” You said, explaining as much as you could handle.

“Tell me more.” Dean urged.

“I… Can’t.” You hesitated.

“That’s why you flinched, wasn’t it? I reminded you of your dad.” He said, finally putting the pieces together, “Damnit, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

He began rocking you back and forth as you cried.

“I’ll stop. I promise you this will never happen again.” Dean assured you.

Before you both went to bed, Dean let you throw away his last bottle of whiskey.

There were two customers together, I’ll call them 1 and 2. 1 was buying beer so I asked for his ID. 

 1: “What, you don’t think I’m old enough?" 

Me: (internally rolling my eyes) "I just have to ask if you look under 40." 

1: "Oh okay. You can’t be more than… what, 16?" 

Me, a 25 year old who gets mistaken for a teenager like every day: *smiles and shakes head no*

1: "Well you’re too pretty to be 17." 

Having just looked at his ID, I know this guy is 34. So this 34 year old is hitting on me, thinking that I’m 16 or 17. Then his like 50 year old friend comes up and says:

2: "Hey, that’s my daughter you’re talking to.” (No this guy was not my dad, I didn’t even know this guy.)

1: “Well, she’s pretty” 

2. “Yeah she’s gorgeous isn’t she? I like her eyes.”

Me: *internally screaming*

Now some people might be thinking, “what’s the problem, they were just complementing you?” No. They were being super creepy, first of all, and second, they were hitting on me thinking that I was a teenager. This is not okay. And male customers are creepy like this all the time with me. It’s not flattering, it just makes me uncomfortable.

Yoongi loves Hoseok’s basement parties because Hoseok is his friend and they have similar music taste and he knows he can expect good music to be playing the entire night. He loves the basements parties because Namjoon always gets the best weed and Seokjin buys the best beer and he knows if he really wants to get fucked up he can without worry because he’ll always have quality stuff to help him lose his mind. 

He loves the basement parties because Taehyung always dresses his best in his tightest/ shortest clothing that hugs his body in all the right ways and no matter what it is the younger has on it will for sure leave Yoongi with a dry mouth and a half hard dick. He loves that he can just sit and watch his boyfriend look hot as fuck as he drinks or smokes the best stuff while his favorite songs play. 

Yoongi also hates Hoseok’s basement parties. 

He hates them because Hoseok’s parties always include a big dance floor that will have Taehyung pouting and asking Yoongi to dance until the elder turns him down for the hundredth time. He hates how he’ll have to watch Taehyung look sad all for five minutes until Jimin pulls him away to the dance floor to grind together and probably make the guys and girls around them cry because they want to touch but know both Namjoon and Yoongi will fuck them up if they do. 

Tonight is different though. Tonight Taehyung doesn’t take no for an answer. 

“You know i don’t dance, Taehyung.” 

Yoongi keeps his eyes on Taehyung’s exposed stomach rather than the younger’s face because he knows if he looks at his boyfriend’s face the younger will be pouting and everyone on earth knows Min Yoongi cannot say no to a pouting Kim Taehyung. 

“I know, baby but i promise, you’ll like this dancing!” 

Yoongi pretends to look annoyed as Taehyung steals his beer before he pulls the grumpy elder up from his spot on the couch. He’s hoping Taehyung won’t pull him right to the center of the dance floor but of course Taehyung does exactly that. 

“Just follow my lead okay.”

Taehyung has that mischievous look in his eyes that Yoongi loves as he positions himself to stand in front of Yoongi until they are pressed together back to chest. It’s the same look Taehyung had when he smiled right before he gave Yoongi a hand job in the back of their math class as the teacher went on and on about triangles and other bullshit and it sends a shiver down Yoongi’s body in anticipation. 

Taehyung closes his eyes, almost as if he’s feeling the beat that is playing from the song, and Yoongi groans when the younger moves his body in a way that has his ass pushing against Yoongi’s dick slowly. Yoongi feels lost on where he should be holding and Taehyung seems to notice as he giggles and uses his own hands to lead Yoongi’s so they slide down Taehyung’s chest until they stop to rest on the younger’s pretty hips. It’s easy enough to move his hips so they can follow Taehyung. The friction is just so fucking good Yoongi pushes himself closer to his boyfriend trying to get more as they move together. 

“See i told you you would like this dancing!” 

Taehyung tosses his head back so he can turn it enough to suck at Yoongi’s neck and he knows by the end of their dance there’s going to be a dark purple mark he’ll have to hide from his parents for days. Right now though Yoongi doesn’t give a fuck. He’s already half hard on his way to full boner and he has no problem with grinding against his boyfriend until they cum in their pants like the horny teenagers they are. 

“Is this dancing or dry fucking?” 

Yoongi moves one hand from Taehyung’s hip to let his fingers slip under the waistline of Taehyung’s leather pants and the younger thrust against the air in hopes of pushing Yoongi’s hand further against his dick. Yoongi follows his move and pushes his own dick against Taehyung’s ass pulling a hiss from his mouth. 

“Does it matter?”

Yoongi notices Taehyung is panting and they’re both sweating, if it’s from the heat of their teasing or the bodies surrounding them on the dance floor, Yoongi doesn’t know but it makes everything that much better. 

He’s manages to get the button of Taehyung’s pants open and the younger’s zipper pulled down so he can grip Taehyung’s dick and the moan Taehyung lets out at the first up and down movement of Yoongi’s hand makes Yoongi groan himself. There he was in the middle of a crowded basement jacking his boyfriend off as they grind against each other and people around them danced and probably watched them and Yoongi was moments away from just saying fuck it and fucking Taehyung right there when the younger seems to read his mind. 

Taehyung turns around, pulling Yoongi’s hand out of his pants, and giggles as he pulls Yoongi away from the dance floor and out of the basement, no doubt to one of the bed rooms upstairs. Yoongi manages to lock eyes with Hoseok as he walks by and his friend wiggles his eyebrows as Yoongi rolls his eyes. 


Hoseok screams and Taehyung laughs before moving to whisper into Yoongi’s ear.

“Let’s fuck on Hoseok’s bed, hyung.” 

Min Yoongi was in love. 

anonymous asked:

so where i work, we're usually cleaned up and closed by 2pm. last monday we were really slow, so we got everything done early so we could close early because my coworker and i both had appointments to go to by 2:15. it was maybe 2:50 when one of our regulars come in. we explain the situation. most people would be understanding, but nah. another customer buys them both a beer and they drink it as slow as possible. they laughed about keeping us late when they knew we had appointments to go to

I can’t believe I almost forgot but I was working yesterday (I work at a gas station where we have our own beer cave) and it was St. Patricks Day (a holiday in America mostly used for drinking and getting smashed off your ass). 

Anyways, we don’t have a radio in my gas station so they let me play sfw music off my phone at the counter. I had it on HIGH and it just so happened to be playing “History Maker” the OP from Yuri on Ice!!! and like as soon as I hear “can you hear, my heartbeat?”

a drunk girl voice from right beside the donuts “TIRED OF FEELING NEVER ENOUGH”

and this drunk girl sings half the song before her sober-ish friends drag her out after them after buying their beer 

Imagine Dean taking you out for your 21st birthday and getting you the gift you always wanted....

Originally posted by n0ne-shall-pass

Originally posted by spn-spam

Sam had left, 

his father wasn’t talking to him, 

and he felt like he was losing his mind. 

The only thing stable in his life right now was you, [Y/N] Singer, who was his best friend and as of today, the legal drinking age. 

 You and Dean had been drunk plenty of times before, but tonight was special. Tonight was the first bight he could take you into a bar, and buy you a drink, and not get told that you are too young, or get kicked out for trying to buy a minor a beer. So he was defiantly excited when he turned up to your house in his father’s car and beeped the horn signaling that he was there to pick you up. 

It only took a couple seconds for you to become exposed to the outside world, your [H/C] hair slightly picked up by the breeze as you locked the door behind you. Turning around Dean saw everything you had to offer the world wardrobe wise. Your tan frame was covered by a leather jacket, your red plaid scarf poking up over the collar. Your legs bore black, ripped skinny jeans, and your black leggings could be seen underneath the self made tears, your feet covered by your black combat boots. Dean bit his lip slightly at the sight of you as you quickly walked to the passenger side of the impala. 

“Hey.” You cheerily said, as Dean caught a whiff of your melon scented conditioner. Your cheeks slightly reddened by the cold winter breeze.

“Hey.” He breathed out as he looked into your [E/C] eyes and tried so hard not to take you off guard with a kiss.

“So where do ya wanna go first Handsome?” You asked, your smile lighting up the whole atmosphere in the impala.

“Well I figured we could start at Minervas, and then…”

“Minervas? “ You questioned with a slight chuckle, as Dean’s heart stopped, “Do I look like I am dressed to go eat at a fine dining establishment? Besides I am not letting you spend that much money on me.”

“Well what if I wanted to?” 

“How about this, we go to the bar, and I will let you buy me a fancy drink, and we can eat some burgers and you can have a few fancy toppings on it.”

“Damn I forgot how easy you were to please.” Dean joked as you slowly buckled into the front seat.

“Well now you know.” You smiled as he slowly put the car in reverse and towards the road.

You both sat in dark space, the lighting was slightly colored and on the lowest setting. A karaoke station was set up on the stage in the corner and a terrible singer was constantly standing on the stage, filling the small, dim space with the sounds of their horrible singing. In front of you sat two plates filled with burgers and fries, and before you both was whiskey straight, and a glass of Sex on the Beach, which Dean insisted you try.

“So is there any reason you didn’t want one of these?” You gestured toward the glass in front of you as he smiled at the burger.

“Cause it is super girly, besides you have always been the one who liked peaches.” He watched as you took your straw and sipped out of the glass, your eyes never leaving Dean’s.

“Well, it is definitely girly.” you said over the lady singing Britney Spear off key.

As the night continued the burgers disappeared and were replaced by more and more shots, and one sex on the beach turned into two which doubled to four, and by three in the morning, you were the last two in the bar, belting out Paint it Black by the Rolling Stones as Dean smiled at you, he had stopped drinking far before then, seeing that the chances of you remembering this night was declining rapidly. 

As the song ended the bartender, who was tired and grumpy, kicked you both out as you stumbled off the stage and knocked into a few tables trying to get back to Dean, who stood ready to cover your scoop neck sweater back up with your jacket. You giggled as you turned to put on your coat and giggled, “I think that should be my mixtape, we should send it to Congress so that I can be famous and meet Cher.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think…”

“Lets go Handsome, I want to go see the stars and drink whiskey in the snow.” You cheered loudly as you turned to Dean, and grabbed his hand. He couldn’t help but smile at your drunken state.

“I think it might be too cold for that Sweetheart.” 

“Well then, let’s go fuck by my mantle and then drink till we sleep for days.” you dragged him out of the bar, as he blushed like mad.

He successfully got you into the impala and once he was in the driver seat you leaned your head on his shoulder, and closed your eyes slowly as he started towards your house.

“I love you, you know that right?” You whispered about half way to your house, which catches Dean off guard, who thought you were asleep and decided to take the long way round just so he could enjoy the feeling of her head on his shoulder for just a little bit longer.

“What are you talking about?” 

“God, I have loved you since I was 16. You never have seen it, but I have loved you forever it feels like now. I never thought you would ever love me back though, so I figured it would be better to just never tell you this.”

“It is just the alcohol talking.” Dean stated as she chuckled.

“Dean, you and I have been drunker then this before, have I ever told you I loved you before?” She smiled as he knew she was right. She had never before muttered the three words he wanted to hear from her so badly, and even though he had finally heard them from her, he didn’t know if he could trust it.

“Yeah.” Was all he could whisper as you placed a hand on his thigh and gave it a small pat as you fell silent again, his heart rate slowly rising as they got closer to the house.

When he pulled it and shut the car off he noticed that you had finally fallen asleep, your mouth slightly opened as you inhaled and exhaled softly, you hair slightly falling over your face as he gently pushed it away with his callused hand. He then slowly moved out of his own seat and around to your side of the car, where he gently took you into his arms bridal style. He carefully carried you up the porch stairs and into your oddly silent house, where he continued up the squeaky stairs which lead to your room. A smile forming on his face when he saw you had put the roses he gotten you 13 days before in an old jack bottle in your room. He softly set you onto the sheets of the bed, removing your shoes before covering you in the quilt your mother had made before her death, you slowly curled up under it as Dean slowly started to back away, however the sound of your voice stopped him, “Stay.”

“Sweetheart I can’t, if your dad comes home and…”

“He said he and your dad weren’t comin’ back till tomorrow, and I just turned 21.”

“And that means…”

“That I want you to stay please.” You Whispered as he smiled and slowly sat on your bed and took his own shoes off, as you slowly took your jacket off, along with a majority of your other clothes.

“What are you doing?” You asked sleepily as Dean tried to climb into bed with you, fully clothed still.

“You asked me to stay with you?” He asked confused as you looked him up and down.

“And you are going to sleep in jeans, and a flannel?” 


“Take them off please?” You pouted as he nervously took everything but his boxers off, and then slipped under the quilt, where you rolled over and placed your head on his chest, as he wrapped an arm around you.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I loved you earlier.” You whispered, sleep once again heavy in your voice as he shut his eyes.

“We’ll see later sweetheart.” He whispered as you raised your hand and placed it at the side of his face and drew his attention to your face, before you pushed up slightly and kissed him. In his head the fireworks were exploding as you pulled away, for the innocent part of Dean’s fantasy had finally come true, however he could taste the alcohol on your lips still, which reminded him that this all might be a lie. And as he argued with his thoughts in his head, you settled back down onto his muscular chest and slowly drifted to sleep.

I’ve probably told this story before but this one time my uncle, a very tall man with a shaved head and impressive beard, went on a weekend hunting trip. On his way home, still in full camo and smelling like a man who had been very active for two days without showering, stopped at Dan Murphy’s to buy some beer. He was in line, a few people in front of him, a few behind, when he got a call from his bank. They told him someone had gotten access to his bank account and was using it liberally. His response in a loud, angry voice was to “kill it! kill it now!”

When he ended the phone call and looked up, the line in front of him was gone. As was the line behind him. And the person behind the cash register. Looking around, he found all of them on the opposite end of the shop, looking worried and avoiding eye contact.


*at the liquor aisle*

Jungkook: Hyung let’s buy some beer!

Jin: Uhm you’re a fetus no

Jungkook: I’m a man, I can drink anything I want!

Jin: Hold on a sec *checks grocery list*

Jungkook: Hyung, what are you-?

Jin: Nope, Getting you’re bullshit is not on the list