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[mugcustom]

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[cozycutstudio]

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[carolmbarta]

Pour Some Laughter: The Creative Journey Behind UK Mug Shots

In a world where every morning brew deserves a sprinkle of joy, UK Mug Shots has carved out a delightful niche with their uniquely designed coffee and tea mugs. Infused with wit and charm, their creations go beyond mere functionality; they are vessels of laughter that brighten the day. But what’s the story behind this whimsical brand? Let’s take a closer look at the creative journey that fuels UK Mug Shots. *The Inspiration Behind the Humor: Crafting Quotable Mugs** Every great idea begins with inspiration, and for UK Mug Shots, humor is at the heart of it all. The team draws from everyday experiences, quirky observations, and even cultural references to craft quotes that resonate with mug enthusiasts. Whether it’s a cheeky quip about Monday mornings or an amusing take on British tea culture, each phrase is meticulously designed to evoke smiles and spark conversations. They understand that laughter can transform even the dullest moments into something special—perfectly encapsulated in a mug that speaks volumes before the first sip. *From Concept to Mug: The Unique Design Process** Turning humor into tangible art involves careful thought and creativity. At UK Mug Shots, every design starts as an idea scribbled down on paper or brainstormed in spirited team meetings. Once they settle on a winning quote, the magic begins! Graphic designers work to pair clever phrases with engaging visuals that capture the essence of each joke. The result? Mugs that aren’t just visually appealing but also embody personality and flair. This meticulous process ensures that each piece is not only functional but also worthy of being displayed proudly on kitchen shelves. *Quality Materials: Building Mugs That Last and Make You Smile** While humor is essential, quality remains paramount at UK Mug Shots. Each mug is crafted using durable ceramic materials designed to withstand both daily use and dishwasher cycles without fading or chipping away those beloved quotes. They believe that laughter should last as long as your favorite brew does! By prioritizing high-quality materials alongside vibrant designs, UK Mug Shots ensures their customers receive products they can cherish for years while savoring their coffee or tea rituals. *The Power of Words: How Witty Quotes Connect with Customers** Words have power—especially when they make you chuckle! UK Mug Shots taps into this magic by curating witty quotes that resonate deeply with their audience. Their social media presence showcases customer interactions filled with shared laughs over favorite mugs or relatable sentiments expressed through cleverly crafted lines. This connection fosters community among fans who find solace in humor during hectic days or share these little doses of joy with friends and family through thoughtful gifts. *More Than Just Mugs: The Community and Culture of UK Mug Shots** Beyond crafting exceptional mugs lies a vibrant community cultivated by shared laughter and creativity. Customers often engage online by sharing photos featuring their favorite designs in action—their mugs become conversation starters at gatherings while cultivating bonds over humor-filled moments! Additionally, UK Mug Shots frequently collaborates with local artists to introduce limited edition pieces celebrating regional culture or current events—further enriching this sense of belonging among supporters. In conclusion, UK Mug Shots embodies more than just quirky drinkware; it represents an ethos rooted in laughter, connection, quality craftsmanship—and perhaps most importantly—a reminder to embrace joy in life’s simplest pleasures. So next time you take a sip from one of these delightful mugs adorned with witty words, remember—you’re partaking not just in caffeine but also in community spirit infused with fun!

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[harshita1166]

Need a premium mug for him? Marffil offers a range of high-quality, stylish mugs perfect for any occasion. Whether it’s for his morning brew or a special gift, our mugs come in unique designs with personalization options to make it truly special. Find the perfect mug he’ll love at Marffil today! For more details, contact 9911036900.

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[specialgradefckr]

it's been a long day for you, nerd gojo's personal bully.

shoving gojo into a locker. him getting a boner because he's a freak. locking him in there and having to pull him out.

by the time you arrive at your part-time job, you're already ready for the shift to be over. scan some items, restock some stuff, sweep and clean and clock right out.

unfortunately, today, you have a visitor.

a familiar voice saying your name. which you still haven't told him he could use.

you try not to make eye contact. it's so uncomfortable, so cringey.

why did a rich kid like him even go to shitty convenience stores like this? was his private chef taking a 15 minute break?

you feel heat rising in your cheeks. desperately you wish for him to just leave, to not talk at all, but even if he did he'd probably talk to you at school about it -

"earth to - AHEM! hello! it's nice to see you, i didn't know you worked here!" gojo chirps, lounging in front of your cash register.

he's dumped a giant pile of treats on there. knowing him, he'd eat all of them, too.

you notice one of your favorites in the pile... now you're even more hungry. the last thing you ate was the lunch you normally steal from gojo, because he screwed up getting you a snack from a vending machine.

there's nothing at home, and you're saving money to go to college, you can't waste money on premade food.

he notices your scowl and giggles. not a chuckle, a giggle. god, he's so lame.

"what's wroooong?" gojo drawls, or tries to. but he's so lame he just looks stupid. then again, he always looks stupid.

leaning over the counter, he tries to lower his head enough to look up at your face as you scan the items. "heheh... you're mad 'cause you can't bully me?"

you're struck by the unpleasant sight of his stupid weird face staring up at you with his big weird eyes. his stupid sunglasses (it's night time. loser.) sliding down his nose.

it must show on your face. "come on! you gotta be nice to me! i'm a paying customer!"

gojo's face has always had this really punchable quality to it, one that made it hard to look away from. but he's never been quite as punchable as he is right now.

you feel your cheeks heat up. from the proximity, of course.

"your total is-" you begin very loudly, enough for him to jump back suddenly.

he twists his mouth, handing you his card, "come ooooon. you don't wanna talk? you're free right now!" he gestures to the completely empty store, "wanna come snack with me?"

you do, actually, but that would require spending time with his insufferable ass, and also agreeing with him.

"i'm on the clock, you moron," you snap, scanning his card and handing him his receipt, "get lost. and don't come here again."

you put his things in a bag and hand them to him. he sighs, pulling something out - coincidentally, the treat you'd been eyeing earlier.

"come on, really?" he whines, like the whiner he is. you don't respond.

he takes a long moment biting into it. making eye contact with you.

(well, he's trying to. you aren't willing to torment yourself with the sight of his ugly mug any longer.)

he starts sort of. side-stepping his way out, in the lamest way possible, shuffling so he can keep looking at you until he's at the door.

freak.

when he's at the door, he sighs as if greatly put upon. "see you tomorrow!" he calls out, which you ignore, "same place, same time~"

you ignore this too. right up until you see him discard his half-eaten treat straight into the garbage while he pushes the door open to exit.

and, well. maybe it's because you're hungry. maybe it's because he says he'll come again.

maybe it's just your natural killer instincts as a bully.

you dart past the counter, snatching satoru by the arm and yanking him back into the store. right next to the trash can.

"whoa, whOA, what - "

"pick it back up."

gojo blinks his big blue dumb eyes at you. "what?"

"you didn't finish eating it," you shove him so he's leaning over the trash can, "pick it up."

"you can't be seri-"

you shove his head straight into the trash can, and gojo yelps, muffled.

"hey! hey! let me out, let me out, i'll get it-"

you hold his head down as he struggles against you (weakly, like the lanky nerd loser he is), until his crying starts to grate on your nerves.

"pick it up with your mouth."

"what?" he's still muffled, "with my mouth? that's so gross-"

"do it, nerd," you seethe, shoving his face further into the trash until you hear a crushing sound.

"okay okay! let me up a little, i'll do it, i'll do it!"

you barely hear him through the trash his face is now buried in. huh, you did need to empty the trash can soon. you'll have him do that next.

so much for being nice to your customer.

...no one will check the security cameras, right?

giving gojo just barely enough room to move around, you wait a moment until he starts to grunt and pull his head back up.

when you let him go, he's got the half-eaten snack in his mouth, like a dog with a treat.

he is kind of like a dog, isn't he?

gojo quickly takes it out of his mouth to complain, but you shove it right back in.

"finish it." you glower.

he doesn't argue with you anymore, quietly eating while his face is red and sticky. he sniffles a little, like a pathetic puppy digging for sympathy.

"what's the big deal," he mutters, "it's just cheap junk food."

you can almost feel your stomach growling. you try to pretend you don't hear-

"oh, are you hungry?" gojo brightens noticeably, "we can go out, my treat-"

the fury of a thousand suns rains upon him in the form of your glare. "finish it."

he swallows. quickly eats the rest of the treat. "there! do you wanna-"

"and take the trash out," you say, striding back to the desk, looking for the trash bags.

"what? isn't that your job?" gojo whines as he obediently pulls the bag out.

for once in his worthless existence, he is correct, but this is immaterial, because he is also stupid, and annoying, and the least he can do is make up for it by taking this task off your hands.

"do. it." gojo rushes out with the trash. he's back in just a few seconds.

by then you've put the new bag in, and you put a hand on his chest as he tries to enter through the door.

"okay, good enough. get lost, nerd."

gojo's face reddens, his eyes flicking down to your hand on his chest, and then your eyes.

what's up with him? his shoulders shift and for a moment you feel his chest flex, like there's any muscle on his scrawny -

shoving him back, you turn straight around, darting right to the counter and quickly grabbing some random items from underneath the front desk to stock.

you don't look up from under the table until you hear the door close.

...

...

...ugh. it's warm in here.

"i'm telling you. suguru, it's SUPER EFFECTIVE!" "dude, there's no way this lame ass flexing impressed her." "what do you mean lame? not every girl likes muscles that are huge, suguru! they're noticeable, but not overt. very mindful, very demure." "this is why she bullies you, satoru." "i'm lean. elegant. gracefu- WHOA!" "heh. graceful, right?" "you literally tripped me! anyways. she was blushing! it was the cutest thing ever! she put her hand on my chest-" "willingly? i doubt it." "she DID! and then i flexed for her and she turned around immediately-" "now that i believe." "but before she did, i swear i saw her blush! i'm getting through to her, suguru! our relationship is getting closer by the day!" "ugh... you could start a cult with this level of delusion." "oh my god, should i? i could dedicate it entirely to her! do you think she'd be into that? i think she would, but she's too tsundere to admit it, hehe... i could build a shrine." (suguru is starting to think satoru is not the victim in this relationship.)

[flwrkid14]

The Batfamily’s Christmas List Tradition (and how Tim gets lost in it)

The Batfamily has a long-standing Christmas tradition: the List. With so many members in the family, it’s a necessity. Everyone writes down what they want (within reason, of course), and the list serves as the ultimate gift guide. It’s efficient, especially for such a big family, and it ensures no one ends up with seven pairs of socks or the same gadget twice.

Tim takes the list seriously. It’s his chance to ask for the small, thoughtful things he wouldn’t usually splurge on for himself. Things like:

New makeup brushes. His old ones are worn out and falling apart, and it’s not until he’s on a mission that requires cross-dressing that he realizes just how bad they’ve gotten. Having a new, high-quality set would make everything feel a little smoother—and maybe even a little fun.

Cozy hoodies. Between Wayne Enterprises business casual and his Robin gear, Tim rarely gets the chance to wear something soft and comforting. His favorite hoodies are all fraying at the edges, with loose threads on the pockets and fabric that’s stretched too thin. A fresh one would feel like a luxury.

A new game console. Tim is rarely ever not working, but on those rare days off, he realizes he doesn't have much to entertain him that's not work related, that doesn't require him to leave his nest. Plus, it’s a great way to connect with his siblings during low-stakes, playful nights.

Nice coffee cups or tumblers. His caffeine habits are legendary, but the chipped and mismatched mugs he uses don’t exactly scream "Tim Drake." A sleek, stylish tumbler or a high-quality ceramic mug would elevate the most important part of his day.

Random indulgences. Books, stationery, weighted blankets, maybe a nice figuring from his favorite movie, a cool gadget he wouldn’t think to buy himself—little things that spark joy and make him feel cared for, anything he knows his own parents would have never bought for him to help heal his inner child. He's never had the luxury of writing such lists before becoming a Wayne.

Tim doesn’t just take the list seriously for himself; he makes sure to go the extra mile for his family, too. He’s always had a knack for gift-giving, and he loves curating the perfect presents for his siblings. For Dick, it might be a rare vinyl of his favorite band. For Jason, an antique first-edition book he’d mentioned once in passing. For Damian, something handmade and unique, like a custom leather-bound sketchbook or a rare art supply. Tim remembers the little things—the throwaway comments, the subtle preferences—and builds his gifts around them, ensuring every box under the tree feels deeply personal.

But Christmas rolls around… and none of the thought Tim puts into his gifts is reflected in what he receives.

Instead, he gets tech. More tech. External hard drives, cables, chargers—things he already has backups for because, well, he’s Tim. He doesn’t need more, and he didn’t ask for more.

And the worst part? It’s not that they’re bad gifts. It’s that the family assumes they know him so well that they don’t even look at his list.

“Tim’s the tech guy,” they think. “Of course he’d want more tech.”

But he doesn’t.

He’s grateful, of course—Tim is always grateful—but there’s a hollowness that creeps in every year when he unwraps another stack of USB drives and ethernet cables. It’s not about the gifts themselves. It’s about the realization that the people he loves, the people who should know him best, don’t see him the way he wants to be seen.

In a way, it feels painfully familiar. Janet had always made sure his presents as a child reflected her vision for him, not what he actually wanted. New tailored suits instead of the hoodies or tees he longed for. Sleek, professional office stationery to replace his Robin-themed pens and notebooks. Vintage collectibles meant to sit on a shelf, collecting dust, instead of toys he could actually play with. The gifts always came with a message: who he should be, not who he was. And now, even with the bats, the gifts still feel like expectations—like they see him as "the tech guy" rather than Tim, with all his quiet wants and overlooked needs.

So, Tim starts dreading Christmas. Not because he doesn’t love his family or the season, but because it reminds him of how little they seem to notice the little things about him.

And maybe one year, he stops adding personal things to the list altogether. Maybe he starts asking for tech, just to avoid the disappointment.

But deep down, he wishes someone—anyone—would surprise him with a new hoodie, a weighted blanket, or a set of makeup brushes. Something that says, “I see you, Tim. I really see you.”

[elryuse]

The Story Of, How A Cafe Worker Wins The Heart Of A Superstar

Wonyoung X Male Reader

Tags : Idol Wonyoung, Cafe Worker Male Reader, Fell in love at first sight, Kiss, Strangers to Lover, Fluff, Full of emotion

The cafe bell chimed a familiar melody as the door swung open, announcing the arrival of a new customer. Busy with wiping down a table, I momentarily glanced up, my breath catching in my throat. A girl, shrouded in a white bucket hat and a mask, stood awkwardly by the entrance.

"Hi there! Welcome to Sunray Cafe," I greeted warmly, my usual chipper self shining through. "What can I get you today?"

The girl, her eyes sparkling even beneath the mask, approached the counter. "Can I get a large Americano, please? With no sugar, and maybe less ice?" Her voice was soft, melodic, like a gentle stream tinkling over smooth pebbles.

"Absolutely! Coming right up!" I punched in her order on the register, a thrill shooting through me. Today was definitely turning out interesting. As I busied myself brewing her coffee, I stole another glance at her. There was a certain aura about her, an ethereal quality that made her stand out even amongst the usual cafe crowd.

"Here you go," I announced, placing the steaming cup on the counter. "One large Americano, no sugar, less ice. Just the way you like it, I presume?"

A hint of a smile played on her lips, barely visible beneath the mask. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

The silence stretched for a moment, filled with an unspoken awkwardness. I yearned to strike up a conversation, to get to know the girl behind the mask, but something held me back. Perhaps it was the air of mystery surrounding her, or maybe just a touch of shyness on my part.

She settled down at a corner table, the clinking of her spoon against the ceramic mug the only sound for a while. I watched her from afar, mesmerized by the way her gloved fingers cradled the cup, how her eyes sparkled with an unseen emotion as she sipped her coffee.

As the cafe slowly filled with the afternoon crowd, I found myself drawn to her table again and again. Each time, our eyes would meet for a brief moment, a silent exchange that sent a flutter to my heart. Who was this girl? What was her story? I couldn't help but wonder.

Days turned into weeks, and the cafe slowly became synonymous with Wonyoung's presence. Every afternoon, like clockwork, she'd walk in, a vision in white with her signature Americano order. Each time, a wave of exhilaration would wash over me. We'd fallen into a comfortable routine – our exchanges started with greetings, then brief conversations about the weather or the latest K-Pop releases.

One sunny afternoon, as I placed her usual cup on the counter, I mustered up the courage to ask, "The Americano with no sugar, less ice – is that your favorite, or just a habit?"

A soft laugh, like wind chimes on a summer breeze, escaped her lips. "A bit of both, I guess. But honestly, it's more about the company now." Her words sent a jolt of joy through me. Was she implying...?

"Really? You like coming here just for the company?" I couldn't help the hopeful lilt in my voice.

She met my gaze, her eyes sparkling with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "The coffee's not bad either," she admitted with a playful smile. "But yes, the company is definitely a perk."

Emboldened by her words, I took a chance. "Actually, my name is Y/n," I blurted out, feeling a bit flustered. "W-what about you? I keep seeing the name 'Won' written on your cup."

A hint of surprise flickered in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a soft smile. "Won is fine," she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

As she turned to leave, I blurted out, "Wait!" She paused, her back to me. "Can I, uh... walk you home?" My cheeks burned with a blush, but I held her gaze.

To my surprise, she didn't refuse. Instead, she turned around, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Sure," she said simply. "That sounds nice."

As we walked side by side, the setting sun casting an orange glow on our path, I felt a lightness in my step, a joy that resonated deep within me. We talked about everything and nothing – our dreams, our favorite foods, the stray cat that frequented the back alley of the cafe. It felt effortless, comfortable, like we'd known each other for years.

When we reached her doorstep, the air crackled with a nervous energy. "Today was nice, Y/n," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Would you like to do it again sometime?" I asked, hope flickering in my chest.

A genuine smile bloomed on her face, as radiant as the sun that had just dipped below the horizon. "I'd like that," she replied, taking out her phone. "Here, put your number in."

As I entered my contact information, her phone vibrated. Glancing at the screen, I noticed she saved my number under the name "Sunray Cafe." A pang of disappointment shot through me, a silent acknowledgement of the distance between our worlds.

But then, she added a single emoji – a bright yellow sun – beside my name. The small gesture sent a warmth blooming in my chest, a promise of sunshine and happiness to come. "I'll call you, Won," I said, my voice filled with newfound determination. "And I'll make you happy, I promise."

She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "We'll see about that, Sunray Cafe." With a final wave, she disappeared into her apartment building, leaving me with a heart full of hope and the promise of a future filled with sunshine, coffee, and maybe, just maybe, a love story blooming amidst the aromatic warmth of the cafe.

The following afternoon, butterflies danced a frenetic jig in my stomach as Won walked into the cafe. Today, I had a surprise planned. Mustering up all my courage, I approached her as she placed her usual order.

"Hey, Won," I greeted, my voice a touch shaky. "So, I was wondering..." I hesitated, searching for the right words. "Would you like to go out on a date with me sometime?"

Her eyes widened beneath the mask, a flicker of surprise giving way to a hesitant smile. "A date?" she echoed, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah," I blurted out, my cheeks burning. "Just to, you know, hang out outside of the cafe."

To my utter delight, she didn't say no. In fact, a hint of a blush seemed to color her cheeks, hidden beneath the white mask. "I'd... I'd like that," she replied softly.

We set a date for the weekend, and the anticipation gnawed at me for days. Finally, the day arrived, and I found myself waiting for her at a park, a bouquet of sunflowers – her favorite – clutched nervously in my hand.

When she arrived, my breath hitched. Even in casual clothes and the ever-present mask, she looked radiant. Today, however, there was a certain spring in her step, a shy smile playing on her lips.

"Hey," I said, extending the flowers towards her.

Her smile widened as she accepted the bouquet. "Thank you, Y/n. These are beautiful."

The afternoon unfolded like a dream. We strolled through the park, the scent of summer flowers filling the air. We talked about everything and nothing – our dreams, our favorite movies, the stray cat that frequented the back alley of the cafe. Her laughter, a melody tinkling in the summer breeze, sent shivers down my spine. There was a comfortable ease about our conversation, a sense of connection that transcended the barrier of the mask.

Later, we decided to catch a movie. As we sat shoulder-to-shoulder in the dimly lit cinema, a thrill coursed through me. Stealing a glance at her, I noticed her eyes glued to the screen, tears glistening in them during a particularly emotional scene. In that moment, I felt a surge of protectiveness towards her, a desire to shield her from any harm.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the city, I suggested a final stop – Sunray Cafe. The familiarity of the place brought a smile to both our faces.

"Welcome back," I said, ushering her in.

The cafe was bustling with customers, but a corner table by the window was miraculously free. I settled Won into the seat, her eyes sparkling as she took in the familiar surroundings.

"This place feels different somehow," she remarked, tilting her head.

"Because you're here with me," I replied impulsively, my cheeks burning with a blush.

She met my gaze for a long moment, a blush creeping up her neck despite the mask. Then, she smiled, a shy, sweet smile that sent my heart into overdrive.

"I'm glad I am," she whispered.

I ordered her usual Americano, this time with a hint of caramel syrup, hoping to surprise her. As I placed the cup on the table, I blurted out, "There's something I've been wanting to ask you."

She looked up, her eyes curious. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, I said, "Won, would you ever consider taking off your mask?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed her features, a silent plea in her eyes. Then, she shook her head gently. "Not yet, Y/n. Maybe someday."

Disappointment tugged at my heart, but seeing the unspoken emotions in her eyes, I understood. This wasn't the right time to push her.

Taking her hand in mine, I squeezed it gently. "Okay," I said softly. "Whenever you're ready."

A warm smile bloomed on her face, chasing away the shadows in her eyes. "Thank you, Y/n. For understanding."

We spent the rest of the evening talking, sipping our coffee, and simply enjoying each other's company. As we walked out of the cafe hand-in-hand, the night sky ablaze with stars, I knew this was just the beginning of something special. The mask might have hidden her face, but it couldn't hide the connection we shared, a connection forged over cups of coffee, shared dreams, and stolen glances under the summer sun.

The next day, A sudden jolt of electricity shot through me as the cafe door chimed, announcing a new arrival. But it wasn't just any customer. It was Won, but this time, there was another man by her side.

He was tall and impeccably dressed, but his aura was cold, his expression unreadable. He held himself stiffly, a stark contrast to Won's usual radiant presence. Even with the mask on, I could sense the tension radiating from her, a silent plea for help I couldn't quite understand.

The man approached the counter, his voice devoid of warmth. "Black coffee, hot. No sugar, and a side of rock sugar."

The odd combination sent a shiver down my spine, but I nodded curtly, professionalism overriding my growing unease. As I brewed the coffee, I stole a glance at Won. Her eyes darted around the cafe nervously, avoiding mine altogether.

When I placed the order on the counter, the man picked up the cup and took a long sip. His face contorted in disgust. He then reached for the rock sugar, a single, unrefined cube, and popped it into his mouth before taking another sip of the coffee. He grimaced again, then let out a heavy sigh.

"Looks like the merger will have to be expedited," he said to Won, his voice laced with a coldness that sent chills down my spine. "Your father called. He needs a faster turnaround on the debt settlement."

Won's mask seemed to shrink around her face, her shoulders slumping in defeat. But amidst the fear in her eyes, there was a flicker of defiance. "Marriage?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The man nodded curtly. "That's what your father wants. Apparently, a public display of unity will appease the investors."

A suffocating silence descended upon us. The man seemed oblivious to the turmoil brewing within Won, his gaze fixed on his now lukewarm coffee. But I knew something was terribly wrong. This marriage, this entire situation, felt forced, a business deal masquerading as love.

The man finally set down his cup, his gaze snapping towards Won. "Who is he?" he demanded, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "The one you truly care about."

The air crackled with tension, the question hanging heavy in the air. My heart pounded in my chest, a drumbeat against my ribs. Won's eyes met mine for a fleeting moment, a silent plea for understanding, for help. And in that shared look, everything hung in the balance.

Unable to bear the suffocating tension any longer, I took a deep breath and approached their table, my voice firm but calm. "Excuse me," I said, forcing a smile, "but could you please keep it down? There are other customers here trying to enjoy their coffee."

The cold man's icy gaze snapped towards me, his expression hardening further. He took a slow, deliberate sip of his coffee, the clink of the cup against the saucer the only sound for a moment.

"A lowlife like you wouldn't understand professionalism," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Perhaps you haven't noticed, but I could easily buy this entire cafe and kick you out on the street."

A surge of anger flared within me, but I fought it down. This wasn't about me. It was about Won, about the fear and helplessness etched on her face.

"Professionalism isn't about money," I countered, my voice steady despite the tremor in my heart. "It's about respect. Respect for your partner, respect for others around you."

The man scoffed, a humorless sound. "Partners? Don't make me laugh. This is a business arrangement, nothing more." His gaze flickered to Won, his voice softening a touch. "Isn't that right, darling?"

Won remained silent, her eyes downcast. My heart ached for her, for the unspoken words trapped behind the mask.

The man seemed to take her silence as agreement. He flashed a cold smile in my direction, his parting words laced with a veiled threat. "Consider yourself warned, kid. Don't get in the way of things you don't understand. I won't let her be taken that easily." With that, he rose from his seat, leaving Won and me alone in a tense silence.

As the cafe door chimed shut behind him, the weight of his words settled heavily upon us. Won's shoulders slumped further, and for a moment, I thought she might crumble. But then, she lifted her head, a flicker of determination replacing the fear in her eyes.

"Y/n," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "We need to talk."

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden surge of hope that bloomed in my chest. This wasn't just fear in her eyes anymore – it was a spark, a defiance against the future that had been thrust upon her.

Before I could respond, she surprised me by reaching out. Her gloved hand cupped my cheek, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. My breath hitched as she leaned in closer, the mask a barrier between us yet somehow insignificant in the face of the raw emotion in her eyes.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper against my lips. "For everything."

Then, in a move that stole my breath away, she leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn't the soft, sweet kiss I'd dreamt of. It was a fleeting touch, a soft brush of cotton from her white mask against mine, yet it held a universe of unspoken emotions. The taste of coffee and something uniquely hers lingered on the fabric as she pulled away, a blush creeping up her cheeks despite the mask.

"I... I need to go," she stammered, her voice flustered. "But this isn't over. Not by a long shot."

With that, she turned and hurried out of the cafe, leaving me standing there in a daze. My hand flew to my lips, the warmth of her touch still tingling on my skin. The kiss was a promise, a declaration whispered against the storm brewing in her life.

Hope, a fragile thing, blossomed in my chest. Won might be trapped, but she wasn't defeated. And neither was I. We had each other, a connection forged over stolen glances and shared dreams. Together, we would find a way. The road ahead might be difficult, but with the faint memory of her touch and the soft brush of cotton from her mask against my lips, I knew I wouldn't face it alone.

A year had crawled by, each day a monotonous echo of the last. The cafe, once a haven for stolen glances and whispered dreams, now felt hollow without Won's presence. I wiped down the counter with a practiced efficiency, a ghost of a smile clinging to my lips. The memory of our date – the sunflowers, the movie, the shared coffee – played on repeat in my mind, a bittersweet reminder of a happiness that felt like a lifetime ago.

Just as I was about to flick off the neon "Open" sign, a soft rapping sound startled me. A figure stood hesitantly on the other side of the glass door, the setting sun casting a golden glow around them. My heart lurched in my chest – could it be…?

With trembling hands, I unlocked the door. A wave of relief washed over me as I saw Won, her ever-present white mask the only thing obscuring her face. But this time, there was a different glint in her eyes, a mix of determination and something else – nervousness?

Before I could even formulate a greeting, she was in my arms, clinging to me like a lifeline. "Y/n," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry."

Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over as I held her close. "Won," I croaked, my voice hoarse. "I thought… I thought I lost you."

She pulled back slightly, cupping my face in her gloved hands. Her eyes, filled with a newfound fire, held my gaze. "Never," she whispered fiercely. "That awful man… It turned out he was a corrupt business owner. My dad cut ties with him, but it caused a huge fight with my parents. In the end, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to choose my own path."

A smile, hesitant but genuine, bloomed on her face as she slowly began to untie the straps of her mask. My breath hitched in my throat. For all this time, the girl who filled my days with sunshine had been Jang Wonyoung, the K-Pop idol I adored.

As the mask fell away, revealing the breathtaking beauty I'd only glimpsed in dreams, a blush flooded my cheeks. Her eyes, sparkling with mischief, met mine. "Now you know why I always hid behind the mask, huh?"

A nervous laugh escaped my lips. "If anyone saw you in this cafe, the whole place would explode!"

We both burst into laughter, the tension dissolving into a comfortable warmth that felt like coming home. Wonyoung cupped my cheeks once again, her touch sending shivers down my spine. "It took me a whole year, Sunray Cafe," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

A surge of joy filled me as I leaned in, closing the distance between us. Our kiss was tender, a promise whispered on the wind. "I'm all yours, Wonyoung," I murmured against her lips.

The future stretched before us, uncertain yet filled with possibilities. We had a fight on our hands, the challenge of keeping our love a secret amidst the glare of the spotlight. But together, with the shared warmth of a stolen kiss and a year of yearning, we were ready to face anything. The cafe, once a symbol of lonely longing, was now bathed in the golden glow of a new dawn, the start of a beautiful love story between a barista and his superstar.

The End

[blogdays]

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[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Beneath the Apron

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

AU: Baker!Simon

Warnings: Fluff, light teasing, mutual pining

Author’s Note: Simon Has me in a chokehold, tbh I need more baker Simon-

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The first time you walked into Simon Riley’s bakery, it was pouring rain. Not a gentle drizzle, but a torrential downpour that left you drenched from head to toe. You ducked inside, shivering and muttering curses under your breath, only to freeze when you realized you weren’t alone.

Behind the counter stood a man who looked like he belonged in a different time and place—broad-shouldered, with sharp features and piercing dark eyes. He stared at you for a moment, silent, as water dripped from your hair onto the floor.

“Uh… sorry,” you stammered, clutching your soaked bag to your chest. “I’ll just…” You gestured vaguely toward the door.

“Don’t be daft,” he said, his voice a low rumble with a thick accent. “Yer already in ‘ere. Might as well dry off.”

Before you could argue, he disappeared into the back and returned with a towel. He tossed it to you without ceremony, then leaned against the counter, watching as you awkwardly patted yourself dry.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, feeling strangely self-conscious under his gaze.

“Coffee?” he asked, already reaching for a mug.

“Oh, no, I—”

“Yer freezin’. Coffee,” he said firmly, leaving no room for debate.

A few minutes later, you were sitting at a small table near the window, a steaming cup of coffee in front of you. The rain hammered against the glass, but the warmth of the bakery and the rich aroma of freshly baked bread made it feel like a haven.

“Don’t get many people comin’ in this time o’ day,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly planning to stop,” you replied, smiling faintly. “The weather had other ideas.”

He grunted—his version of a laugh—and you found yourself oddly charmed by the sound.

After that, you started coming in more often. At first, it was just for the coffee—well, that’s what you told yourself. But it wasn’t long before you found yourself lingering, chatting with Simon between customers and slowly peeling back the layers of his quiet, guarded personality.

---

One morning, you walked in to find him hunched over a tray of cookies, his brow furrowed in concentration. He glanced up as the bell jingled, his expression softening slightly when he saw you.

“Late today,” he commented, his accent turning the words into a soft rumble.

“Had a meeting,” you replied, dropping into your usual seat. “But I couldn’t skip my daily dose of grumpy baker charm.”

Simon snorted, shaking his head. “Dunno why you keep comin’ back.”

“Maybe I like watching you scowl at dough,” you teased, resting your chin in your hand.

He gave you a mock glare, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Yer lucky I make good coffee.”

---

One quiet afternoon, you caught him humming to himself. The bakery was empty except for the two of you, the soft rhythm of his movements lulling you into a comfortable silence. Then you heard it—a low, quiet hum, almost imperceptible over the sound of the mixer.

“Is that… singing?” you asked, looking up with a grin.

Simon froze, his hands stilling mid-knead. “It’s not.”

“It so is!” you said, laughing. “What was it? Some folk song?”

“Shut it,” he muttered, though the tips of his ears turned red.

You leaned forward, propping your elbows on the counter. “Come on, Simon. Give me a performance. I’ll even clap.”

“Yer impossible,” he grumbled, but there was a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

---

Another time, you showed up with a batch of cookies you’d tried to bake yourself. They were… well, let’s just say they weren’t exactly bakery quality.

Simon picked one up, inspecting it with a raised brow. “What’s this supposed to be?”

“A cookie,” you said defensively.

“Looks like a rock,” he deadpanned.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Well, excuse me for not being a professional.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “S’alright. Can’t all be as talented as me.”

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, but you couldn’t stop the smile creeping across your face.

Simon took a bite of the misshapen cookie, chewing thoughtfully. “Not bad,” he said finally.

“Really?” you asked, brightening.

“No,” he replied, smirking.

---

One morning, the bakery was unusually quiet. You sat at your usual spot, sipping your coffee and watching Simon move around the kitchen. His hands were deft and sure, rolling out dough and piping frosting with an ease that came from years of practice.

“You ever sit down?” you asked suddenly.

“Don’t have time,” he replied without looking up.

“You’ve got time now,” you pointed out.

Simon paused, a tray in his hands. He stared at you for a moment, then sighed. To your surprise, he placed the tray on the counter, untied his apron, and sat down across from you.

“Didn’t think you’d actually listen to me,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“Figured it’d shut you up,” he said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

“You’re full of charm, aren’t you?” you shot back, smirking.

Simon shook his head, leaning back in the chair. Up close, he was even more intimidating—broad shoulders, strong jaw, and those dark eyes that seemed to see straight through you. But there was a softness to him, too, in the way he rested his arms on the table, his posture relaxed for once.

“You come here every day,” he said after a moment. “Why?”

The question caught you off guard. You hesitated, unsure how honest you wanted to be.

“Well,” you started, stalling for time, “the coffee’s good. The croissants are amazing. And the company’s not bad, either.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Not bad?”

“Okay, fine,” you admitted, leaning forward. “The company’s great. Even if you’re a little grumpy.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and rumbling, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Grumpy, huh?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Very,” you said, grinning.

Simon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he studied you for a moment, his dark eyes scanning your face like he was trying to figure something out.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he said finally, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t catch it.

Your breath hitched, and before you could think of a reply, the bell above the door jingled, signaling another customer. Simon stood, tying his apron back on with practiced ease.

“Stay as long as you like,” he said over his shoulder, the hint of a smile on his lips as he walked away.

And just like that, he was back to being the mysterious baker, leaving you sitting there with a fluttering in your chest and a stupid grin on your face.

I hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[nbecermugs]

Ceramic Enamel Mug With White Dots And Rim

[pinkdaiisies]

Where’s your boyfriend? Dale Cooper x reader

Summary: Reader looks forward to Dale's routine morning visit to the Double R diner. The two have grown quite close and Dale finally has something to ask her.

Based off of this request Hello, I hope you are doing well! I was wondering if I may request a fic with Dale cooper where the reader (female reader please) is a waitress at the Double R Diner and he asks her out on a date! Coop definitely loves how she makes coffee and is absolutely smitten with the reader... anyway!

Notes: EEEEEE I haven't written anything in soooooooo long. I'm really proud of this and I love Dale so much!!!! I hope you enjoyyy

Word Count: 1285

Dale had been going into the Double R diner every morning since he had arrived at Twin Peaks. Even though the sheriff's department served coffee and donuts every day, Dale couldn't stop himself from sitting down at the same stool every morning for a cup of coffee. If someone asked Dale why he went there every day, he probably would've lied and said something about the quality of their coffee or pie, but deep down Dale knew the real reason why he went there every day. A certain waitress had caught his eye.

The day Dale showed up at the diner you had been quite frightened with the talk of murder going around town. When the tall man in a fancy suit told you he was an FBI agent and he was here to catch the killer you immediately felt a lot safer. You both introduced yourselves and started to chat while Dale enjoyed his cup of coffee. Your first impression of Dale was that he was very intelligent, extremely handsome, and his jokes were a little bit silly. There weren't a lot of guys like him in Twin Peaks.

It soon became Dale's morning ritual to wake up early and head to the diner before he had to go to the station. He heavily enjoyed your company while he drank his coffee. Being with you allowed Dale to escape the scary reality which the Laura Palmer case brought. Your conversations with Dale made you forget of the boring monotonous days the diner gave, each day fading into the next. Dale visiting you every morning gave you something to look forward to. If you got lucky, he would visit another time later in the day with the Sheriff and Deputies Hawk and Brennan.

Norma soon noticed that when you arrived at work in the mornings you were much happier and bubbly than you had been for a while. She also noticed when Dale Cooper walked through those doors, the other tables were not being tended to. Norma understood what was happening between you and the FBI agent. She didn't mind taking a few more orders and cleaning a couple more tables while you flirted away with Cooper.

One morning you had arrived at work earlier than you usually do. You had woken up extra early because you were looking forward to seeing Dale today. You knew your hair looked especially good today too because you kept checking your reflection on the side of the coffee pots.

You made a special pot of strong coffee just for Dale and continued to take customers orders. Even after serving their food and cleaning their tables, there was no sign of the agent. You began to feel disappointed. You had put so much effort into how you look this morning all for Dale to be a no show.

"Where's your FBI agent boyfriend?" Shelly teased while pouring a cup of coffee for a customer.

"I'm wondering the same thing! and he's not my boyfriend." You smirked at Shelly. Everyone could tell that the conversations between you and Dale meant a lot to each other. Dale Cooper had even gotten a handful of teasing from Sheriff Truman. The tension between you two couldn't go unnoticed by anyone.

Almost as if he was summoned, Dale Cooper walked through the diner doors. He immediately caught your attention, and you two smiled at each other. On instinct, you grabbed a mug from under the counter and poured the agent a cup of his coffee as he sat down in his usual stool.

"Good morning y/n! I'm sorry that I'm later than usual." Dale said with a smile on his face. You could tell his apology was sincere.

"That's okay Dale. You don't have to apologize." You said while putting the coffee pot back on the warmer, checking your reflection one last time.

When you turned back around to him, Dale was looking at you intently like he had something important to say. He made eye contact with you and didn't break it. Silence ensued.

"I'm sorry, how rude of me! How is your morning going?" Dale said after a second of awkward silence. He is such a gentleman you thought to yourself. No man in Twin Peaks has ever been so considerate of your feelings. Dale knew how to make you feel seen and heard.

"Better now that you've arrived," You smiled, "I thought you were a no show for a minute." Dale's nerves settled when he heard this. Knowing that you were happy to see him made what he was about to ask much easier.

"y/n. I wouldn't miss your coffee for the world." He said while lifting his coffee in the air then taking a sip. You giggled, your coffee couldn't have been that revolutionary. He smiled and then put his cup down. The look that Dale's eyes had before came back. He looked into your eyes and suddenly seemed nervous. "Can I tell you something?" He said while not once breaking eye contact. You however did break eye contact. It was nerve racking to know that as an FBI agent, Dale has to know how to read people. He was probably taking in all of your micro expressions and analyzing them every time that you spoke to each other. Hell! He probably knew that you had a crush on him!

"You can tell me anything Dale." It was true. You both learned to trust each other throughout the short time that Dale has been in town. Every conversation with him felt easy, you felt like you could tell Dale anything as well.

"I've really enjoyed getting to know you throughout my stay at Twin Peaks. Visiting you every morning has been a highlight of my day." His words made your cheeks blush. You didn't think that Dale's feelings were similar towards your own. "I was wondering y/n, if you'd enlighten me with the pleasure of having dinner together tonight. That is if you don't have any prior commitments."

Your world stopped spinning. It felt like you and Dale were the only two souls in the diner. That was until you heard a giggle coming from Shelly who was close by helping another customer.

"Of course. I'd love to Dale! That sounds great." You flashed him a smile. It felt like the diner got 30 degrees hotter, but that was just the effect that Dale had on you. You were oblivious but you had the same effect on Dale too.

"Great! I can pick you up at your place at 5:30." Dale had a lovesick smile on his face. He could stare at you all day if was able to. Dale took one last gulp from his coffee and stood up from his seat. "I'll see you tonight."

"Goodbye Dale! I'm looking forward to it." You smiled and waved to Dale while he walked out of the diner while somehow keeping his eyes on you. He was about to walk out of the diner door when he stopped himself. He peered his head back through the door.

"One last thing!" You looked back at the agent. "Your hair looks beautiful y/n." Then he walked out and let the door shut behind him.

Shelly and Norma could've sworn that they've never seen a smile that big on your face ever.

"Well he sure does seem like your boyfriend now!" Shelly said. You and Shelly giggled and squealed together like schoolgirls. Norma watched the happy expression on your face from the cash register. She was glad that you found someone that made you that happy.

Dale walked outside to his car while pulling out his tape recorder.

"Diane! I have a date tonight!"