#coffeeshopau

[forgettingcrowbin]

Hello everyone! :)

I wanted to thank you all again for supporting me during my absence, and sending me asks on Tumblr for my blogsitters haha <3 I’m not so sure what to say, so I’ll end it here haha :)

Thank you to specifically: @elizakai @swiftmitsu @tarobii @cakesmelons the nest, for helping me get to where I am, and everyone who has reached out and interacted with me, it means so much (Zu, Simple, Kredena, Crow, Phenom, Blue, Nyx, Gillian, Fishy, Soup, and more ^^)

[neonnewsfeed]

Janny’s Crash Out

Tim hadn’t slept in seventy-two hours. He’s running on caffeine, spite, and a playlist titled “please let me die but after the report.”

He’s halfway through another cold cup at Janny’s 24-Hour Café (the unofficial ceasefire zone of Gotham) when the ceiling explodes.

Like—actually explodes. Glass, smoke, some unholy green light, and then a guy lands in the middle of the café. A glowing guy.

He looks around, dazed, and goes: “Do you serve ecto-infused espresso, or is that just a me problem?”

Tim’s so tired he doesn’t even blink. He just goes, “Medium or large?”

Batman’s on comms like: “Report.” Tim: “I think I found a ghost.” Bruce: “Do not engage.” Tim: already handing him his own coffee mug

Anyway, the ghost guy’s name tag says “Danny” and he orders extra whipped cream. Tim hasn’t smiled in days but he does now, which is probably a problem.

original post by @bat-coded-insomniac:

[cloudyluun]

Rose & Torn | Patreon Blurb

Wondered what I post on Patreon? Curious? Nosy? Need a little push before you subscribe? Okay babe, I got you. This one time… you get the full blurb. For free. Like the spoiled princess you are 💅

Rose & Thorn Summary: You’re just trying to write your silly little stories in peace when Harry Styles—yes, that Harry Styles, with the long hair, soft sweater, and rings for days—walks into your favorite café and steals the seat across from you.

What follows?

Flirty banter

Warm chai (that he hates, rude)

Painfully soft glances

And him saying, “I was gonna write lyrics, but now I kinda just wanna write about you.”

Yes, it’s fluffy. Yes, you might blush. Yes, I wrote it at 1AM while thinking, What if Harry fell in love with me while I was just trying to mind my business???

And you can read the entire thing right now 🫶 Just this once, it’s not behind a paywall.

But next week? We’re back to secret club energy 💌

🔗 [Click here] or read below!

The bell over the café door jingled, but you didn’t look up.

Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, pausing as you squinted at the blinking cursor on your screen. You were halfway through a sentence, one you’d rewritten three times already, and it still didn’t sound right. You sighed softly, thumbed the edge of your coffee cup, and took another sip of your now-lukewarm latte. Background hums of milk steamers and indie music blended with the occasional murmur of conversation.

This place—Rose & Thorn—had become your usual over the last few months. It wasn’t big, but it had high ceilings, vintage tile floors, plants dangling from copper rods, and deep wooden booths along the back wall. Enough character to feel lived-in, but quiet enough to focus. You loved it here. Not for any grand reason. Just... the peace of it.

You didn’t notice him at first.

Not until the barista stuttered a bit while asking for a name to write on the cup.

Then you glanced up. Casual, curious.

And saw him.

Tall. Slim. Hair long, dark golden brown, pulled half-up but some pieces falling around his face. A soft, oversized green sweater. Black trousers. Rings. A slow smile that looked both unsure and entirely too charming as he gave his name—Harry.

Harry.

Your brain didn’t immediately click. Not until he turned, waiting for his drink, and you caught the sharp line of his jaw. The eyes. The way he looked around the room like he wasn’t trying to be noticed but always would be.

Harry Styles.

You blinked.

You knew it was him. Of course you did. You weren’t living under a rock. But your mind scrambled to catch up with the realness of him. He looked... softer than you expected. A little sleepy, like maybe he hadn’t meant to stay out this late or wake up this early. And he was definitely looking for a place to sit.

There were two open booths. One next to the window, and one—yours.

He glanced toward the front, then toward you.

And started walking over.

You looked back at your laptop fast, pretending to type.

“Sorry,” a voice said, low and warm and just slightly hesitant. “This seat taken?”

You looked up. And there he was, closer now. Tall enough that the light from the window hit his cheekbone just right. Kind enough eyes that it made you forget how unfairly good-looking he was.

“Oh—no,” you said, heart skipping weirdly in your chest. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

He sat, adjusting the chair with a quiet scrape. You tried to act normal. Just some girl in a café. Writing. Not freaking out. Not staring.

He took out a small notebook, leather-bound and worn at the edges, and a pen. No phone. No entourage. Just him, like this was his usual spot too.

A minute passed. Then five.

You tried to focus on your sentence again, but your thoughts were a mess. You could feel him. Not in a weird way, just... there. He had that kind of presence. Big but easy. Confident but not loud. And he was humming under his breath.

You snuck a glance.

He was scribbling something in his notebook. Brow furrowed a little. Lips parted. His tea sat untouched.

Your stomach did a small flip.

And then he looked up at you.

Caught.

You froze.

He smiled, slow and crooked, like he knew.

“Whatcha working on?” he asked, voice still soft. Like he didn’t want to break the quiet of the place too much.

You hesitated. “Just writing.”

“Mm,” he nodded. “Fiction?”

“Sort of.”

He tilted his head. “Sort of?”

“I write articles,” you explained. “But sometimes I write other things. Like... bits of stories. Stuff that’ll never see the light of day.”

Harry smiled wider. “I like that. Secret stories.”

You laughed under your breath. “Not on purpose. Just... never finished anything I felt was good enough.”

He leaned forward a little, interest plain in his eyes. “Can I ask what this one’s about?”

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard again. “A girl. She works in a little café. She’s just... trying to keep her life from falling apart.”

Harry looked around. “She work here?”

You shook your head. “Different place. Messier. Bad coffee.”

“Sounds real,” he said, nodding seriously.

You grinned.

He stuck out a hand. “I’m Harry.”

“I know.”

He laughed, and it was a real one—quiet but warm, like it came from his chest. You liked that laugh.

You gave your name.

He repeated it softly. Then again. Like he was trying it out.

“I like that,” he said. “Suits you.”

You looked away, heat crawling up your neck.

This didn’t feel like some celebrity moment. It didn’t feel like you were talking to him, the Harry you’d seen in music videos or awards shows or late-night interviews. It just felt like... a moment. A strangely quiet, perfectly normal moment with a man who was making you smile too easily.

He nodded at your screen. “Can I read it?”

Your heart leapt. “God, no. It’s—just fragments.”

He leaned back, hands up. “Alright. Maybe next time.”

Next time?

You raised an eyebrow. “You planning on stealing my booth?”

He shrugged. “I think I just did.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling too much. “Okay, but I get the plug socket. It’s war if you touch my charger.”

“I’d never,” he said solemnly.

He took a sip of his tea, finally. Grimaced.

“Too hot?”

“No, just… chai.”

You laughed.

“You don’t like chai?”

“It tastes like someone dropped a candle in milk.”

You choked on your latte. “That’s oddly specific.”

He wiped his mouth with a napkin, still grinning. “It’s accurate, though.”

You shook your head. “Blasphemy.”

For the next twenty minutes, neither of you wrote. Or pretended to. The conversation was easy, weirdly so. You talked about little things—books, music, your mutual distaste for small talk. He asked you if you believed in ghosts. You asked him if he always talked to strangers in cafés.

“Not always,” he said. “Just the pretty ones.”

You stared at him.

He held your gaze, no smirk this time. Just honesty. That kind that didn’t feel rehearsed or smooth.

“I mean it,” he said. “You walked in and I... I couldn’t stop looking.”

“I was already here,” you said, trying to make your voice steady.

He blinked. “Wasn’t I here first?”

You laughed, a little breathless. “No.”

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Means I really didn’t see anything else. Just you.”

Silence stretched. Not awkward. Just... tight. Charged.

You looked down at your cup.

He tapped a ringed finger on the table. “Can I be honest?”

You glanced back up.

“I was trying to think of something to write when I came in,” he said. “Lyrics or whatever. Been stuck for a while. But now I’m thinking I just want to write about this.”

You blinked. “This?”

He nodded once. “You. Today. The way you looked when I sat down—like you were about to vanish if I stared too hard.”

You swallowed. “That’s... intense.”

“I know,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

He smiled, softer this time.

You looked at your screen. Then back at him. “Can I be honest too?”

“Please.”

“This is the weirdest day of my life.”

He laughed. “Fair.”

You hesitated, then added, “But also kinda the best?”

Harry tilted his head, curls shifting. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He looked down, then back up again, eyes a little shy now. “Would it be okay if I asked for your number?”

Your heart thudded. You didn’t answer right away, but only because your brain had short-circuited.

He waited.

You reached for his phone. Typed it in.

Handed it over.

He took it gently. Smiled as he saved it.

Then he looked at you again, really looked.

“I’ll text you,” he said. “Soon. Like... tonight.”

You smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

He paused like he wanted to say something else. Then stood, tea in one hand, notebook in the other.

“I should go. Leave you to your writing.”

You nodded, though a part of you wanted to ask him to stay.

As he turned, he paused at the doorway. Looked back. Gave you a smile that made your stomach twist in the best way.

And then he was gone.

You stared at the empty chair for a moment, stunned.

Then turned back to your laptop.

And started writing again.

But this time, the words came easy.

Because now, your story had a beginning.

If you liked this and wanna see more blurbs like it every week (plus some ✨spicy✨ ones), you can subscribe here 💌

[beatlesficrecs]

Fic: You Might Well Arsk

By @snugglesweaters

Link to fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22130020/chapters/52821043

Summary:

John works in the Starbucks on Myrtle Street in Liverpool and Paul comes in for coffee. They fall in love via email exchange and everything is wonderful.

Why I like this fic:

John's humour in this fic is *spot on* and Paul is so wonderfully written too, they're so totally true to themselves and the author has somehow melded the wonderful reality of them with the present day. Even only halfway through the first chapter I was grinning like a lunatic and falling in love with this 'verse then kept thinking of it all through work. It makes me want to live in the Myrtle Street branch until they walk in. ❤️

link to fic

[shewhxmustnxtbenamed]

Fishbone Cafe | 11.4k | E

There’s a new employee at Draco’s favourite coffee shop.

Preview under the cut

“Wow,” Harry said as he approached, looking at Draco like he were wearing his nicest suit and not a simple sweater and jeans. “So this is you on a weekend, hm?” 

Draco looked down at himself to make sure he was wearing what he thought he was. Then, he looked at Harry—his t-shirt, strong arms, apron tied at his neck. 

“Yes,” Draco responded eventually, and for some reason, Harry laughed. 

“What’ll it be?” 

“I trust you,” Draco said, then flushed. “I mean—whatever—anything—” 

“Sure,” Harry said, his smile easy—calm. “On me, today.” 

“Please, let me,” Draco said, card already in hand. “Really, there’s no need. Don’t they take it from your paycheque?” 

Harry grinned, then tamed it, nodded a bit. 

“Alright. How about I buy you one and you buy me one?” 

Draco nodded, and Harry took out his wallet, reached to tap his own card to the reader, then rang up another drink, gesturing for Draco to do the same. He moved to the end of the table, wondering if Harry would drink his now or wait until his shift had ended. Two cups with his name were set in front of him, then someone beside him grabbed one of his cups, and Draco’s eyes trailed it as they lifted it to their mouth and drank. 

It was strange, the difference between three feet and a few inches. Draco had never noticed before. Now, he could see Harry’s eyelashes—the chain of a necklace under the collar of his t-shirt—smell his sweet cologne even through the richness of fresh-ground coffee. He was so real. 

“Won’t you get in trouble?” Draco asked, noticing the absence of his apron—or rather, the outline of his chest muscles that he could now see without it. 

“They can stand twenty minutes without me, surely. We’re not busy. Care to sit?” 

Draco looked toward the tables, then the bar near the window. 

“I’ve…never had time before.” 

Harry went to the bar, pulled out one of the stools and gestured to it. Draco realised he hadn’t followed and immediately stepped forward, then had to go back for his drink, smoothed a hand over his hair to hide his blush as he sat down. He squinted as he looked out the window, having never been here when it was so bright.

Draco saw their knees were an inch apart and didn’t dare move, holding his cup so firmly the sides bowed. 

“How do you like yours?” Harry asked, and Draco tore his eyes away from Harry’s leg as he sipped his drink. 

“Raspberry?”

“We can swap, if you don’t like it. I have toffee. You like that one.” 

Draco hummed, shook his head. 

“It’s alright. Might prefer the non-fruity flavours a bit more, though.” 

“Here,” Harry said, taking the lid off his. “I’ll take yours.” 

“I’ve already had some. It has my…germs and…things...” 

Harry smiled. 

“I’ll take your germs if you take mine.” 

[euni-yumes]

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Hello :))))

This is a blog dedicated 2 dumping my fics of my yumeships/my ocs or persona being shipped with my fav character. All of my stories will mainly be in second-person POV, sometimes in first-person. I MOSTLY write my yumeships, but I COULD write "x reader" fics!!

Suggestions r very welcome here. U can even request your oc and a character in any scenario!!!

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Main acc - @pixelsweeties

Special Note; Even when I'm an ace lesbian, I can still be a yumeshipper! I do read “character x reader”, but I imagine a pairing with one of my ocs and that character, so I don't ship myself with certain characters. (I'll try to do "x reader" fics too!)

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Characters I’ll probably write for:

Tadaharu Tomura (The Uzujigoku Massacre)

Yugamu Omokage (The Hundred Line: Defense Academy)

Gaku Maruko (The Hundred Line: Defense Academy)

Ash Sivale (Hyper Danganronpa H20 Abandon All Hope)

Oliver Feng (Hyper Danganronpa H20 Abandon All Hope)

Ricardio Montague (Hyper Danganronpa H20 Abandon All Hope)

Kokona Tamashiro ((Hyper Danganronpa H20 Abandon All Hope)

Tamako Fujiwara (Hyper Danganronpa H20 Abandon All Hope)

ANTI-YUMESHIPPERS, YUMES THAT HARASS DOUBLES, DARKSHIPPERS & PROSHIPPERS DON'T INTERACT!!!

[colorwheel-cw]

Ok, ok, hear me out... Coffee Shop AU. Red Alert, a young student at some university. Then, Inferno, a fire fighter at the local fire department. Red Alert works for the local coffee shop after school. There could be a cute little love story built into this idea if I can think more on it, but I like the idea and there could be some potential in it. Maybe even some room for a Jazz/Prowl moment too. I may do more with this idea. Haven't decided just yet, but I wanted to share, but we'll see.

[momentofch-aos]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26239489/chapters/167950024

NEW CHAPTER - Never Needed Anything More - Bonus Chapter 9

Ever since their boys had started school, it wasn’t unusual for them to get calls from the office. From head bumps to grazes from playing on the school yard, even a couple of broken limbs a few years ago, getting a call from the school didn’t panic them as much as it had in the beginning.

So when Daisy’s phone rang as they were sitting in their home office, the school name and emblem flashing up on her screen, she good-naturedly rolled her eyes in her husband’s direction before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mrs Johnson-Sousa?”

“This is she. How are you Denise?” She was still typing one-handedly, talking to the lady she’d gotten to know fairly well since their kids had started at Zephyr Prep.

“I’m well, thank you. I’m afraid this isn’t one of my normal calls. We had to call an ambulance.”

OR : Appendicitis strikes.

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Back with my first born child - the classic coffee shop AU.

Oddly this is a chapter I planned on writing ever since I started the bonus chapters but it's only just fit in and I've finally got round to writing it. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this fic since the beginning and those we've picked up along the way.

Please note the below trigger warnings. Oddly enough, appendicitis is one of my main anxiety triggers (not a clue why).

TW : Appendicitis, discussion of surgery, hospitals etc.

Anyway this has some angst (happy ending as always) and a fair dose of fluff from my favourite little family.

Hope you enjoy 💜