#la coffee shops

[televisionofnomads]

Grab a pink chai latte on our list of the best restaurants in LA!

[football-in-tuxedos]

This one is just for me.

[andminnequin]

Shopping hehehe

[life-spire]

See more like this.

[oldshowbiz]

Las Vegas Coffee Shop

[vampireshmampire]

Waking to a Dream (ch 1/3)

We wrote a prose comic! I did the words, @beansprean did the drawing.

Pairing: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless

Summary: Nandor lives a very ordinary life that is just fine. Every day he goes to the coffee shop where he works, and comes home to his one bedroom apartment. But that's all he needs. That's how things have always been.

...and then this weird guy who has some sort of THING about Nandor starts showing up at the coffee shop every day, and Nandor begins to learn that maybe that isn't all he needs.

And maybe this isn't how things have always been.

Check it out on AO3!

[davetada]

Milo and Kat

Los Feliz, CA

[latteontheroad]

Flat white. La Gazette, Morges, Switzerland. November 2023.

[selkieskins]

Hi 💕

[lewdlucidity]

I love their cute mural and didn't realize until I came to post this that it matches my eyes 😍

[glitterock]

tbh everything is gonna be ok

[shieldofiron]

La Ladra

Harringrove Week Day #1. Prompt: Candy Corn.

Seattle, WA, 1993

The first taste Steve has of Billy Hargrove, it’s entirely by accident. And way too sweet.

He gags pushing the white paper cup away sputtering, “What the hell-”

“Mr. Harrington, I’m so sorry,” His assistant pulls the cup away, “Here, this one’s yours.”

He’s still trying to get the taste off of his tongue, coughing a little, “What is that?”

She looks sheepish, “Candy Corn Latte.”

He must be showing his disgust on his face, because she blushes crimson to the roots of her hair.

“Where did you obtain that monstrosity?” He shakes his head, “It’s… ugh… there are no words for it.”

“The new place around the corner, The Four Horsemen,” She’s still blushing, hard, “It’s… it’s not so bad.”

“Chrissy,” He blinks at her, grabbing for his own plain black coffee to wash out the taste, “It’s disgusting.”

“It’s a little sweet,” Her eyes dart around.

“It’s full. And… cold,” The memory of the taste, sickly sweet, is hard to forget, “Have you even had any?”

She looks down at her sensible pumps, “No. Just a taste.”

“I’m traumatized, and you didn’t even like it?”

“It’s… it’s the barista there,” Chrissy mutters, her small body twisting a little with embarrassment, “He’s… really… really… um, cute.”

Steve laughs, taking another deep sip and trying to forget the taste, “So you thought this would… what? Impress him?”

“No,” Chrissy toys with the cardboard cup holder, “O-only if I just get a plain coffee I can’t stay and talk to him.” He notices now that her cup has a stamp on it, four skeletons dancing around a bonfire, with bold lettering underneath that spells out “Four Horsemen Coffee Shop, Seattle, WA.”

“Ohhhh,” Steve nods, grinning, “Now it’s all coming together.”

She bites her lip, her hands twisting together, and brushes the spot where her wedding ring used to be. Chrissy had had a tough time since the divorce, with her parents disowning her and her ex trying to screw her for the car dealership that was still technically in her name. Steve was happy to see that she had a crush, although he wasn’t sure torturing her taste buds was the way to capture them.

Why don’t you ask him out?” He spurs, the legal briefs in front of him entirely forgotten. It’s not as though Steve could actually lose his place at the company if he spends the afternoon gossiping with his assistant. He’s a glorified pencil pusher, only there because his dad pulled strings. He didn’t really care very much when they asked him to correct grammar and research rather than do, like, his actual job.

“No way,” She shakes her head, “He’s so cool. He’s so cool. He has all these tattoos, and big pretty doll eyes. And he’s in a band. I’ve… I’m…”

“Okay,” Steve shrugs holding his hands out to her, “Come on, Miss Indiana. That’s very cool.”

“No, I’m not,” She slumps in the ugly office chair, “I know he’s just thinking I’m some yuppie loser.”

“I promise, nobody would think that,” Steve offers her his hand, “Chrissy. You are very cool.”

“Stop,” She pouts, “Steve, if you just saw him you would get what I mean.”

Steve looks up at the clock. He doesn’t have another meeting until four, and the research is basically done; he just has to write it up, “Okay. I’ll go in, and get a look at this Mr. Cool guy, and report back.”

“Don’t tell him I sent you,” Chrissy’s eyes go wide.

“What- why would that come up?” Steve shakes his head, “I’m just gonna get a black coffee, and get a look at him, and then you and I can make a game plan. I got like… every chick in high school. I’ll come up with something.” He got more than a few of the guys too, but he is at the office, and he’s not actually out to his dad yet, so he’ll leave that off the list.

“In high school,” Chrissy looks skeptical, “How about lately?”

“I’m… I’m working on it, okay,” He shakes his head, “You want my help or not?”

She drags in a deep breath, “Okay. Okay.”

The air is brisk when he finally steps outside, and he buttons his suit jacket, trying to straighten his rumpled tie. He ought to have grabbed his jacket before he left, but it’s too late now. He checks his watch again, just to be safe, and saunters down the street, following Chrissy’s directions. It’s at the edge of the financial district, and it looks a little out of place if Steve is being honest. The window is painted with the same logo he’d seen on the cups, and someone’s carved elaborate jack-o-lanterns and left them out around the door.

There’s only one person working, and it looks like they’re about to close, so Steve hurries inside. The wind follows him, blowing leaves across a freshly swept floor.

“Oh,” Steve glances up at the guy with the broom.

He does have pretty doll eyes, Steve thinks while he stares, trying to get something, anything else to come out of his mouth. They’re blue, fringed with long dark lashes. He’s big, muscular, and as promised, covered in tattoos. The bicep turned towards Steve has a traditional heart on it with a banner that reads, “MAXINE.” This hovers over a blonde pin up girl, riding a surfboard on a big wave, her bikini top half off.

“Hey,” The man’s voice is low and lilting, “What can I do you for?”

“Uh,” Steve swallows hard, dragging his eyes up to the pretty face behind the blonde curls.

The man smiles, slowly, his eyes dancing a little, “Cat got your tongue?”

“C-coffee,” Steve manages to sputter.

The man just kind of nods, shaking his head and laughing as he makes his way behind the counter, “Forget your coat, Pretty Boy?”

“Shut up,” Steve blurts out before he can stop himself, a half whine. Oh, his brain says to him helpfully, he called you pretty.

"Ooh. A little fire in you. I like it. So just a coffee then? What size?” The man leans on the counter, his biceps jumping under the cut off sleeves of his shirt. It’s warm inside, and he’s pushed the curls off of his face with a black bandana.

“Large,” Steve swears he’s trying to get himself under control. Only… he is really pretty. He is really cool. And damn it to hell Chrissy likes him. Steve wishes he didn’t get coffee at the chain place by his apartment every morning. He wishes he had seen him first.

The man hums under his breath, eyes dancing across Steve’s face, down to his collar, his tie, his- “Large.”

Before Steve can react he’s turned away, paper cup in hand, filling it from the machine behind him. The back of his faded t-shirt  reads, “Malibu Surf Competition, 1984.”

“You from California or something?” Steve tries to suck in a breath.

The man glances over his shoulder, “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“Oh, just… making conversation,” Steve stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“That’ll be $1.89,” The man places the cup on the counter in front of Steve, his fingers lingering on the edges of the paper. Steve watches, mesmerized, as a silver ring glints in the golden hour sunlight. He has nice hands, strong looking. He wishes he was a photographer, like his friend Jonathan. That would be a great opening.

Steve looks up at the man’s face and thinks, You’re really beautiful.

It doesn’t occur to him that he could have said it out loud, until he sees a blush rise high on the man’s cheeks, making his eyes seem bluer, vivid blue like the ocean on a hot summer’s day.

“Uh,” Steve digs through his wallet with sweaty fingers and slams a $20 on the counter, “Keep the change.”

He’s halfway up the street, cursing at himself, by the time he realizes he left the coffee. His mouth still tastes like candy corn. He smooths his hair back from his face and buries his head in his hands.

[Also on AO3 here. Part Two - here]

[thelonelynindroid]

There's normal people there's insane people and then there's people who memorise one (1) character half of the Trobed 101 rap just INCASE they ever meet their other half via impromptu public community reference

[barbiepinklady]

I add a restaurant on the second floor

[delusionalinsecurewreckpiningphd]

Personally dislike the fact that urban street is littered with corporate storefront and franchises as the ultimate goal of economic growth and modernity. Bring back indie local store, mom and pop shop, smes, for that chaotic all-over-the-place aesthetic and actual livelihood

[acmeoop]

“Loo Bru” Tiny Toons: Looniversity Concept Art