#coffee shop it is

[m3djed]

"he would not fucking say that" but you ever be looking at fanart and suddenly its "he would not fucking have abs"

[betweenbooksandmoths]

September prompts, all by @creativepromptsforwriting

AKA, I'm dragging myself back into writing if it's the last thing I do

Day 1: Coffee

The world always looked so small from up there, it made Iztel feel strange. The hike up to the cliff overlooking his tiny town was too much work, and there was a time when the idea of walking through the forest for several hours would make him want to die. It still kind of did, some days, but now he had a reason to do it, even if he didn't walk up there daily. He sat down on the edge, waiting for a few seconds, until he felt the air moving slightly around him, and suddenly there was a winged man next to him. Well, Itzel wasn't really sure if he was a man, but he did look like one, a didn't seem to mind being referred as such when he asked. He was very pretty, the light from the sunset illuminating his hair, making it the same color as mahogany. Itzel always thought it was a pretty color. The bird-man, as he had been calling him, opened his mouth, not looking yet at the young man, and a shrill noise came out.

Itzel woke up, feeling blindly for his alarm clock, hitting a book, his medicine, and an empty water bottle before finding the culprit of the awful noise. He turned it off, frowning slightly. He had been dreaming about something nice, he remembered. Something about a cliff? He wasn't sure, and the more he tried to remember specifics, blurrier the dream became. There had definitely been a cliff. Maybe there was someone else with him? He really couldn't remember. Sighing, he got up, walking slowly towards the bathroom, trying not to look at the mirror, and the mess he was sure to look like. He never slept well, and on the rare occasion he did, he couldn't remember what he dreamt. Except for the cliff. He always remembered the cliff and the sensation of maybe-someone-else next to him. It was weird because there wasn't a cliff where he lived. There wasn't even a mountain or anything else where there could be a cliff. Maybe there had been one wherever he has from. But he couldn't remember. He had appeared on the road a few miles from this town, remembering nothing except for his name. He had been in the hospital for a bit, and then specialists had tried to figure out why he couldn't remember anything. Eventually, they gave up, and the police couldn't find any records of him. He couldn't imagine it was easy to find anything since he hadn't had any form of ID, just his clothes and the memory of his name. Some days, he wasn't even sure it really was his name. So, since he didn't have anywhere else to go, or if he did, he didn't remember, he ended up living in the same town he'd appeared in. And it wasn't so bad! As long as he doesn't get any headaches, he can usually get through the day. And in the off chance he does get a headache, he has medicine for it. And he has therapy appointments to deal with the whole amnesia thing. So, it's fine. It's not like he gets a crushing sense of nostalgia for things he can barely remember. Nope. Not at all.

The walk to the cafe isn't long, just a few minutes, enough to mentalize himself for several hours of strange orders and the occasional rude customer. When he gets there, the front door is not open yet, and he goes for the one in the back. For some reason, he doesn't really feel like dealing with people just yet. Maybe it was his weird cliff related dream. He puts on the seafoam green apron that indicates him as a worker and turns on the lights. Sara, his coworker, is putting the chairs on the floor since they put them up on the tables at the end of every day. She smiles at him, and it makes him feel a little better. Sara didn't act weird around him when he first arrived, didn't act as though she was walking on eggshells around him, and she understood if some days he couldn't deal with people, and let him prepare the orders without having to talk to the customers. It was nice. She was nice.

All in all the day was uneventful. He did have to clean a spill or two, and Sara had to redo a few orders, and then he had to go to the back for a few minutes after a costumer had almost gotten physical because he'd taken to long finishing his coffee. It was weird that after all that, he could consider it a calm day. But he'd had worse days, both working there and before. Before? Yes, he was sure. He did not remember what his life was like, but he was sure it had had more difficult days than today. He was finally done with the day, Sara had left a bit earlier since she had a date, so he'd been taking the final orders and cleaning up. The small bell above the front door chimed, and he bit back a sigh, he was sure the "Closed" sign was on since he'd turned it on himself less than a minute ago, so whoever this was, they were either stupid, or a jerk. He didn't want to deal with either.

"Sorry, we've closed already. You'll have to..." He turned, and as he did, felt himself freeze in place. The man that had just come in, well, he was the man of his dreams. Literally. The second he saw him, the memories of last night's dream came back. The cliff, the winged man, the words that came out of his lips. Sure, he didn't have wings, but everything was the same, even the way the sunset made his hair look like fucking mahogany.

"Are you going to finish the sentence? Feels like you were supposed to say something more"

"Who are you?" He didn't mean to ask like that, but he was really confused and felt what was probably the beginning of a headache coming in.

"I thought you said you were closed? Unless you are going to take my order."

"Uh... maybe? Would you let me ask you something?"

"I won't stop you"

"Do... do we know each other?"

Itzel wasn't the best at reading people, he could admit as much. So the fact that the mysterious not-winged man seemed to also freeze at his question was answer enough. They did know each other. Or at least, the other man recognized him. The way Itzel saw it, he had two options, he either made the coffee and got some answers out of Mystery Man, or he ignored him. It was an easy decision really.

"Alright... What do you want to order?"

[andrewminyardslawyer]

PSA for those writing coffee shop AUs, bakery AUs, etc.

I have worked in the food service industry for 20 years and I just wanted to make an informational list of common mistakes or misconceptions I see in writing about said industry. Not trying to be a jerk, just thought I would try to make a helpful list! I will add more if I think of any and please feel free to ask any questions you may have!

- it's cookie dough, not cookie batter. Doughs are for thicker stuff, typically something you can pick up in your hand (cookies, bread). Batters are more liquid and pourable (cakes, brownies, muffins)

- one person cannot make all the products from scratch and bake everything themselves unless they are a very slow business. Most of the time someone has a specific thing they do weather it's focused on specific products or split up like one person does the batters/doughs, one person preps and bakes, one person decorates. Sometimes one person does multiple things but generally not every single thing every day by themselves

- Front of House = people interacting with customers like barista, waiter, person at the register. Back of House = people making the food (line cook, baker, etc), dish washer (the worst job in the world, I salute all dishwashers everywhere)

- if they're doing stuff like bagels, doughnuts, breakfast pastries, cinnamon rolls, bread, etc they are there EARLY. Depending on the product some people start working at 2 in the morning. I saw a published book that had someone making dozens and dozens of cinnamon rolls from scratch in like one hour. Not possible even though I wish it was

- frosting, icing, and glaze are all different things. Frosting is the thicker stuff you see on cakes and cupcakes. Icing is typically for cookies, especially the decorated cut out sugar cookies. Glaze is thin, like what you get on doughnuts

- 99% of people who work in the food service industry will immediately go home and shower. I've seen lots stories where the character gets done at work and goes out. You are covered in various substances with powdered sugar in places you didn't know it could get, a shower before Literally Anything is a must

[cozycottagelife]

Via 📸: beautifulslowlife

[academic-vampire]

𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔢𝔫𝔧𝔬𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔱𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 :)

[gracefuldisasters]

I needed to draw this headcannon about my favorite joke from the entire franchise.

Also, I want to see little Shadow and Maria just being little gremlin children.

bonus

[sonrium]

DP × DC The Power of Names Coffee Shop AU

Coffee shops are notorious for misspelling peoples names to the point that it's a running joke and basically a forgone conclusion everywhere. Everywhere except this tiny coffee shop near Crime Alley. The new hire there, Danny, spells everybody's name correctly without having to ask. Whether it's "Carly" or "Karly," he always gets it right the first time. Heck, people give him their names in Chinese and Arabic, and he swaps to the correct alphabet, no problem (because Danny, being king of the dead, can speak all languages dead and living, so might as well be respectful).

It becomes a bit of a running joke in the community to give Danny the craziest names they can find to see if he can get them right. Some of the Bats even hear rumors about him and give it a go for fun. They make a game out of it to see who can find a language or alphabet that Danny can't get. That is until, while massively sleep deprived from a case involving cults and magic and getting nowhere, Tim accidently says one of the words that he'd been hearing in the cultist chants when he orders. Danny gives him an odd look but shrugs and writes something on the cup. It isn't until Tim has already left the shop that he realizes that the symbol written on his cup is one shown in the cultists scrolls he couldn't decipher.

Tim almost dropped his coffee. Danny wasn't just a human who knew a ton of languages, he must have been a meta with the ability to understand EVERY language. And the Bats desperately needed his help to crack this one before the cultist finished summoning whatever demon or disaster they had planned. But how to get the kid's help? From idle chatter while ordering, the Bats learned that Danny wanted nothing to do with the Gotham vigilantes. And Tim had already given his connection to this case away by spewing that word written on his cup...

(I like to imagine the name Tim gave was something like "corn field" and that's why Danny looked at him funny and not because it's one of the languages of the dead)

[thedeadpoets-blog]

“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are October’s.”

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Dead Tired Coffeeshop Accident

For one reason or another, Danny is now living in Gotham and working in a coffeeshop. For one reason or another, Tim frequents the same coffeeshop.

Now, both of them are honest to god messes who treat sleep like a grave enemy. Meaning they both survive on coffee, spite, energy drinks, and their respective hyperfocuses.

They don't even talk, really, they just see each other from time to time: Tim knows the barista who looks like he's been dead for weeks is named Danny, and Danny knows how to make Tim's Death Wish with his eyes closed, but other than that, they are just strangers who largely don't care about each other.

That is, until one time after his patrol, Tim comes to the said coffeeshop in his Red Robin gear. He doesn't even think about it, he simply needs coffee. He comes to the counter. He orders. His voice is tired and emotionless. He just wants his coffee and maybe stare at a wall for a few hours until his brain reboots. Danny takes his order without even looking at him. He has been sitting and staring at a wall for a few hours, night shifts are literally killing him.

They are both so done.

Red Robin waits for his coffee. Danny makes it almost automatically, his mind elsewhere. The coffeeshop is empty, save for them two. It's four in the morning. Nothing feels real.

Danny sets the cup on the counter.

"One Death Wish for Tim," he says out of a habit, not fully registering they are alone, and he doesn't need to do that.

Tim takes the coffee without thinking, nods a silent 'thank you'. Brings the cup up to his mouth-

And notices a glove on his own hand.

He is in Red Robin get up.

He freezes and looks at the barista, who is cleaning the coffeemachine. Danny, noticing him looking, also looks back at him. Did he make the wrong order? He knows Tim's soul, he's seen it a lot, he couldn't have mistaken him for anyone else, but maybe he forgot to add syrup?..

There's a domino mask on Tim's face. A vigilante domino mask.

They stare at each other. No one moves. No one blinks. The sun is rising somewhere over the city.

Tim takes a sip of his coffee. Danny goes back to cleaning the coffeemachine.

They never speak of this again, but Tim becomes a regular here in both of his personas.

[recny]

jacob anderson #1 lesdaughter enthusiast confirmed

[canisalbus]

✦ Coffee Shop AU ✦

[redcrowncafe]

Bishops in Halloween costumes please

Here you go!

[ahresprite]

flower x coffee shop au ☕️💐

[scavengedluxury]

New Balkan coffee shop at 8am just dropped in Glasgow.

[academic-vampire]

𝔰𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 🍵

[yourdependente]