#café bustelo

[raulesparzascheerleader]

ooh, yes! i know it is a wee bit early (it is still summer!) for a pumpkin spice latte, but that pumpkin spice and everything nice (espresso!) kept pulling me in. 🖤🎃

i get those pre-made bottles, bring it home, mix it with some brewed café bustelo espresso, pour it over plenty of ice, and enjoy my little piece of Heaven. it may still be incapable of keeping me awake, but coffee and me are still friends. :) 🧡

[mangogreentee]

[dreamersbcll]

uber specific headcanons !

(aka i have a lot of angst coming)

—————���———————————————-

- sam prefers the middle seat on plans because it’s easier to be tara protector. tara just thinks she’s insane, but is happy to take the window seat

- tara loves consistency. patterns, routines, counting. sam loves spontaneous activity. they clash over plans all the time.

- sam hates grocery shopping, but it’s more bearable when tara pushes her around in the cart

- both sisters hate period pieces, but love films like ‘ten things i hate about you’

- sam’s a popcorn person, tara’s a pretzel person

- the sisters both had their ears pierced as babies, so when chad mentions wanting his pierced, they squabble over who gets to do it. (tara does the piercing while sam holds him down)

- they are a café bustelo household, and are very ant-keurig (even though mindy swears by it)

- tara loves youtube essays, and sam loves youtube commentaries

- as kids, sam learned tap, tara learned ballet

- tara loves the ‘orange cat/black cat’ relationship memes, and even though sam doesn’t get it, she knows deep down that she’s the black cat

- sam loves black beans and tara loves pinto. chipotle runs are a battle each time.

- kombucha is one of sam’s favorite drinks. tara gags dramatically each time she opens one.

- tara loves those ‘jars being pushed down stairs’ tiktoks. she begs sam to let her push their bottles of soda down the stairs, but sam refuses (she knows she will have to clean all the glass up)

- mindy and tara break all their jars of pickles and onions anyways, because sam doesn’t like pickled things so why should it matter

[thereisnofood]

coffee is some serious business in puerto rico every store we go to its locked up behind glass with the cigarettes. liquor isnt even locked up in some places but the coffee is always secured

[kirbyskisses]

miguel o’hara x reader || “te amo”

chapter 2: “cafécito” (masterlist)

wc: 1.3k

(minors/ageless/blank blogs, do not interact)

“would you still love me if i wasn’t who i said i was?” the words dump out of miguel’s mouth before he can think to stop them and you turn around, incredulous.

he’s been on this earth for seven days and the guilt of usurping the version of him native to it, is still eating away at him as much as he enjoys you and gabriela.

your voice rings out before he can stutter a sudden apology or explanation.

“that’s a big question to ask before i’ve even poured a full cafecito, mi amor? did vulture bonk you in the head a bit too hard last week? can we start with a ‘good morning, my love. how did you sleep?’”

miguel gives a sheepish grin and shrugs out a ‘no, he didn’t.’ but it’s another technical lie. the vulture had injured the miguel you knew to the point of death but not the one who you’re kissing now.

he’s a replacement, a man from another universe who made a choice only a week ago to not leave you widowed, to not leave your daughter half-orphaned, and to not leave your nueva york without a spiderman.

but in the soft moments like this where his lips are on yours that he doesn’t feel like a replacement. where he feels that you’re his because you fell in love with miguel o’hara and he is miguel o’hara.

his lips are soft and intent on memorizing your taste - which at the moment is that of sugar and café bustelo.

“lo siento.” he chuckles softly. “buenos días, mi amor. how did you sleep?”

“very well, thank you.” you give a loving smile, handing him his small glass of coffee. “you know, you’re a lot more cuddly lately. it’s nice to fall asleep to - you should take time off more often.”

he chuckles. so he’s more of a cuddlebug than his past counterpart? that means you have spotted a difference.

miguel was hesitant to even share a bed with you this past week, still feeling like an intruder. it’s wrong to sleep next to a woman he doesn’t know but you do know him.

he knows you now too, having taken the whole week off of spider-man duty to adapt to being a father and husband.

sitting with lyla at the computer to memorize everything - your birthday, your anniversary, your family members and how you met. watching video of you revealing your pregnancy, of your wedding - every happy detail he can find to be the miguel you deserve.

it’s not him but it looks enough like him that he can close his eyes and pretend they are his memories with you until he has stayed here long enough to make some of his own.

and in little ways he has. it has been intoxicating to have you throw your arms around him and enthrall him with good night kisses; to fall asleep in the hold of a lover. with how small and comforting you are he’s gotten an addiction to holding you close - to having a constant reminder that you’re real and his now.

without warning your waist is wrapped by a string of neon red and jerked onto his lap, his hands happily gripping the fat of your thighs before roaming up and down.

“míguel! what did we say about webs in the kitchen?” you whisper harshly - raising your voice could wake the baby in the other room.

“ay, pero mamííí…” miguel whines playfully. “you said it yourself i’m a cuddler. you’re too cute to not be in my arms.” he chuckles and lets his nose and lips roam ever so gently up your neck with a smirk that hints at his sharp teeth.

whatever noticings you had about him being a bit different this week - it all melts away. he’d been a little more awkward, more spaced out, more terse. not responding to your inside jokes as if his mind was in another world. but now, you chalk it up to him having witnessed a hard death as spider-man the night he came in with blood on his suit. anyone would have an off week after that.

you know miguel has always been a hard working man but this is the one you know - serious but smiling, and deeply in love. your annoyance at being pulled in by his webs breaks and you roll your eyes, fingers pinching his cheek.

“you know, you weren’t who you said you were when we met.” you start, meeting his wide brown eyes that watch the curve of your lips as you speak.

“standing me up because you had ‘work,’ knowing all these strange facts about genetics and technology passing them off as some hobby, making up how you kept getting cuts and bruises. i swear i was one more missed date from popping you in the head, hombre.”

you flick his forehead and he pretends to flinch with a laugh before letting your hands glide through his dark brown curls.

“pero… there you were. la araña. and everything made sense. and i was mad yes - i bet all of nueva york could hear me chew you out that night. but i was still in love with you.” you give this soft, wistful expression that makes his heart race.

“so to answer your stupid, pre-coffee, way-too-early-in-the-morning-ass question; yes. i’d love you if you weren’t who you say you are. so long as miguel o’hara loves me y mija - i don’t care who he is.”

miguel feels the most overwhelming sense relief of relief spread across his bones and pulls you down for another kiss, words exhaled against your sweet lips.

“he does - i do. yo te amo.” and despite having only really known you for days, despite only having experienced the falling in love through screens and data collection and practiced sentences, miguel o’hara thinks he really means it.

“yo te amo también, araña…” you whisper.

the two of you enjoy the silence before you snap back up. “but shoot one more web in this kitchen and see if i don’t divorce you.”

“yes, ma’am!” he releases you hurriedly not letting his emotions show on his face, distracting himself with another chug of coffee that only makes his heart go faster.

-

there is one more difference you notice in miguel. it only catches your eye when he’s holding your sweet, little bundle of joy.

miguel fell hard and fast for the girl, who has inherited so many of his features even having barely just passed a few months old. he’s elated to have a daughter who he can father; he’s not the original miguel who met and courted and married you but he will be the father who sees her grow and walk and talk - possibly crawl onto walls if his arachnid genetics pass down too.

your answer to his question over coffee confirmed to him that he gets to be your husband but no confirmation is needed that little gabriela is his daughter and his alone.

it makes all that first week of pretending, all the intricacies of interdimensional travel, completely worth it.

he’s a brooding superhero, but he’s all smiles around her. when she giggles, when she eats, even when she makes caca, miguel is quick to cover her in kisses and praises at her very existence.

“i still can’t believe she’s real.” he whispers as he rocks her to sleep, body electrified by you hand on his arm as you both stare down in wonder.

“sí, es real. papí’s muñequita linda, no?”

“sí… mi princesa.” he kisses her head - she’s so incredibly tiny in his toned arms and against his broad chest.

when he places her in her crib and straightens as he stands back up - that is when the exact difference finally hits you.

“¿míguel, mi amor?” you start, “have you gotten…bigger?”

[tekkenjournalist]

Café Bustelo has been banned from future Tekken World Tour events after EVO doping scandal involving Italian Claudio main AKEBUONO emerges

[vee-crytraps]

Kiss Me More | Ch 2 | {Burning Down the House}

Chapter Summary: Coffee, tea and the third degree. It's breakfast time at Wayne Manor. AN: New to posting fics on Tumblr, feel free to read here or over on Ao3 under the username VenusCrytraps. Same bat time, same bat channel.

{Trigger warning/Themes Masterlist}

Jason is up first, long before most of the other members have gathered for breakfast. His hair is messy, but his face is clean shaven. He had elected to ‘forget’ his shaving kit back at his apartment in the East side in protest, but Alfred always made sure that Jason’s manor quarters had spares on spares.

Not one to waste the old mans effort, Jason saunters down the wide staircase in a nice shirt and black pants, with his jacket slung over his shoulder. He looks much more put together than usual, a self satisfied smirk on his face lingering from the memory of last night’s encounter. 

Bruce eyes him from over his morning paper, watching Jason load proteins and even a few pancakes onto his plate. Everyone else just seems relieved that this holds the potential for a rare, drama-free morning, and greets him with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

You’re the last to arrive, well rested and robed, a modest nightgown peaking out from underneath. You greet everyone individually, even taking the time to ruffle an annoyed Damian’s hair and press a quick appreciative kiss to Bruce’s cheek.

Sitting down next to Jason, you begin to load up your own plate.

“Have some breakfast with your coffee,” You tease, watching as Tim pours himself what is no doubt his second cup since sitting down.

Spirits seem a little less lively than usual, considering this is the first breakfast you’ve had in a long time with all of your brothers in attendance. The silence eats at you. You hate being able to hear yourself think. And chew.

“Soooo,” You start, sliding your gaze across the faces of your seated family members. “How was patrol?”

“No Bat talk at the table,” Bruce reminds you. He doesn’t even bother to look up to scold you, and that kind of ticks you off. He turns the page. “Eat your breakfast.”

“Sir, yes sir,” You lift your fork in a mock solute, and your dad barely manages to grunt in acknowledgement. He’s clearly tired. You suspect he hasn’t slept much. 

In comparison to usual, anyway.

Damian, on the other hand, is as eager as you are to fill the grating silence. Which would make you suspicious if you weren’t so desperate for some conversation. “What else even is there for us to talk about?” He questions, but it goes unanswered.

“I got somethin’.” Jason, ever eager to get you back for your stunt last night, decides it’s a good time to put the fear of god into you. “Noticed you were up late last night. Don’t know what business you had getting dolled up at seven PM.”

It’s difficult to glare and chew at the same time, you realize. Choking, you just barely keep yourself from stomping on his toes. Retaliation is an admission of guilt, you remind yourself, forcing your shoulders to relax as you took a long, slow sip of your orange juice. Maybe if you don’t dignify it with a response, it’ll blow over.

Damian is the first to catch on. He stops eating and looks up at you. 

“You stayed up for a date?” Damian asks.

You choke again. It’s more embarrassing this time. Your father clears his throat, but seems to still be reading.

“What? No way.” Just roll your eyes. Lean back in your chair. Look relaxed. 

If anything that brings more attention your way. It was not to your advantage that every other person at this table were seasoned detectives.

“This is really embarrassing for you.” Tim informs you, at the bottom of that second cup of Café Bustelo. Maybe his next cup will stop his heart. That would totally draw attention away from you.

“Since when did you guys start being so nosy,” You tease, but man, the tension in your shoulders gets worse. Your fork cuts your toast into the crude shape of a throwing star, and you chuck it at Damian limply. It doesn’t even make it across the table.

“Since you started acting suspicious,” Damian says with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. His eyes flash towards you, and leans forward to rest his elbows on his table. “Who was he?”

Bruce turns a page. “Damian.”

"Tt," Huffing, Damian loads your shitty bread weapon onto his fork and flings it back at you, his face unchanged. “It was obvious a guy. So who was it?”

You gaze slips to Bruce, hoping he’ll interject again. He doesn’t.

Okay, you think to yourself. Any more denial and it’ll start to be a little too stupid and obvious. If you gave them an inch, maybe you won’t have to reveal that Jason lent you nine.

“Oh, you know,” A laugh escapes you, and you pour yourself some of Tim’s jet fuel. “I was just…socializing. You should try it sometime.”

That’s good. A half-truth, mixed in with a little good natured sibling teasing. Maybe there was hope for you after all.

“With who?” Tim pipes up again, his curiosity clearly piqued. “Anyone we know?”

“Come on, whose the mystery guy? Can we meet him?” Dick adds, shifting forward.

“Yeah, Baby Bat,” Jason bears a wicked grin. He’s got his revenge and more, and you wonder if he trusts you to navigate this situation without getting the two of you caught, or if he just doesn’t care. “We just want to make sure he’s worth your time.”

He’s kind of getting off on this. Seeing you, sitting next to him in your little rich girl pajamas, your dad at the head of the table none the wiser. There was no way he would have believed you were a ball of sexual frustration under those frills had he not seen it with his own eyes last night.

“What’s with the third degree? I didn’t realize I was on trial.” You toss your hands up in the air in mock defeat. And real defeat, now that you think about it.

This ship was sinking fast. Time for a diversion tactic. “What about you, Tim? Any hot dates recently?”

Tim grins widely, taking in pleasure in seeing you crack. They must be on to something. Even you couldn’t pretend to be this bad at lying. “I can neither confirm or deny.” He burns the new dialogue tree to the ground before you can turn anyone else’s attention away from this brutal line of questioning.

Damian huffs once more, lacing his fingers together. The look on his perfect, beautiful face would otherwise suggest that he’s bored, but you know it’s far from true when you meet his gaze. He’s got that investigator stare, and if there was somehow any doubt in your mind that he was Bruce’s blood, it was quickly blitzed. “You should just tell us. You know we will find out.”

“Yeah, BB. It’s in your best interest.” Leaning back in his chair, Jason tosses an arm over the back of yours, sipping his orange juice with wicked amusement. This could not have been less in your best interest. His too, actually.

“Oh, whaaat?” You quickly stand, your chair shooting backwards and nearly causing Jason to drop his glass. It would have served him right, but every once in a while gravity favored him despite his size.

 “You know what? I totally hear my phone ringing. I’m gonna go take care of that, but like, I’m so happy to do this another time.” You’ll pencil them in for after the apocalypse. “See you at the gala!” You head upstairs, genuinely not planning to emerge from the safety of your room until it was time to go.

You think you’re in the clear until you hear Damian’s chair push back, and then you start taking the steps two at a time. Damian warms to the thrill of a physical chase, watching you bound up the stairs like the prey animal you are.

It’s cute, really. That you think a pair of solid oak doors would stop him from dragging you for information. There wasn’t a thing in this house he didn’t know, and you were soon going to be made aware of that.

[lovrre]

Baby protect me<3

Word count: 2k

Summary: On Joel’s birthday two men try assaulting you, when Joel takes care of them ,you realize how much you like the violence And Joel realizes he’s not over his trauma.

Warnings: slightly dark fic, a little Angst, attempted SA, cursing, sadistic themes, no smut but slightly suggestive themes 🌝

Author note: I’m mostly likely gonna rewrite this one later but I just really wanted to post something. So enjoy for now, Suggestion box  IS OPEN!

You awoke in bed next to Joel for the third time this week. You watched his chest rise and fall like you normally did when you woke up first. You liked it, you liked him, apart from you hoped for more from the relationship than sex, but Joel tried his best to be distant with his emotions. Sometimes you guys would seem like a couple and other days not even friends. Joel sits up suddenly in bed, small sweat droplets sliding down his body.

You quickly sit up beside him rubbing your hand up and down his arm trying to console him “you ok baby?” you ask worried he takes a couple of labored breaths before speaking “I gotta get some air” he says plainly getting out the bed and walking towards the door. You laid back and enjoyed watching his sweaty shirtless body leave the room. When he returned, you realized you had accidentally fallen back asleep, you woke up to Joel sitting on the edge of the bed putting on his clothes. “Where you going” you say groggy rubbing your eyes “I think I'm gonna go for a walk” he says stuffing his foot in his shoe. “ Nightmare?” You ask, sitting up on your elbow. He doesn’t reply,“ are they about-” he cuts you off “ DON’T” he snaps. There’s an awkward silence before you speak “you don’t have to be rude” you say angrily, rolling over so your back is facing him

Joel opens his mouth like he about to say something, then closes it and walks out the room. You hear him leave, but don’t say anything. When the sun comes up you stretch hoping to feel Joel’s hard body next to you despite still being a little upset with him. But when you run your hands over his side of the bed you feel nothing but the cold mattress. You can tell by his blanket that he never came back to bed last night, mostly likely sleeping on the couch.

~~~

After getting dressed, you walk into the kitchen, Joel is sitting at the kitchen table reading an old book. You sit across from him quietly for a second before talking. “Good morning, you still grumpy?” you ask, watching him pretend to be focused on reading. “ Joel?” You wave a hand by his face, Joel stays quiet for a second before huffing in defeat looking up from his book

“ I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, last night I’m sorry” he says sincerely reaching over the table to hold your hand, he rubs his thumb slowly over your knuckles “you know I’m no good with emotions a stuff, but I’m working on it ”He says letting out a deep breath.

A big grin takes over your face “Well good you apologized because now I can give you your present ”. Joel looks surprised as you jump up from your chair and go to reach under the kitchen cabinet for Joel’s birthday gift.

“How did you-“ you cut him off, “Close your eyes!” you yell, you wait for Joel to close his eyes before you hid the gift behind your back and walk towards him. “Hold out your hand” you say, try to contain your excitement. You place a big metal cylinder of Café Bustelo in his hand, You put the red mug you got to go with it on the table. “ Open!” You say excitingly. Joel opens his eyes, it takes him a second to realize what it is, “is this real?” He asks surprised examine the container “yep, 100% unopened espresso, none of that nasty homemade shit they sell at the market” you laugh “what the hell did you trade to get this…” he says opening the top “no that much actually the younger ones don’t care for coffee” you saying sitting on the edge of the table. “It still has the seal on it” he says surprised looking up at you, “I told you it’s unopened” you laugh at his giddy reaction over coffee

Joel laughs to himself before pulling you down by your waist onto his lap. He places the coffee tin on the table” is this mine too” he asks pointing to the big Mug “mmh” you smile, moving a small piece of hair his forehead. “Happy birthday baby” you say kissing his cheek, “Thank you” he smiles placing a kiss on your lips.

“Let me make us some of that coffee” Joel says, moving you off his lap, so he can make the coffee. “You know what would be good with coffee, cake!” you say clapping your hands together

“what, you got some?” Joel questions “no, but I can make some… tonight ”. You say excitedly “I’d like to see that” he muffles coughs under his breath. You elbow him in his ribs, making him laugh “you will”.

~~~~~~

Later that Day, you decided to try to go to the street vendors and see if you could scrabble up enough ingredients for a small cake. “I’ll be right back” you yell out by the door, zipping up your coat. “Where you going?” Joel asks, poping up from around the corner. “I’m just going to the market vendors” you say, ready to leave. “ It’s drizzling and The suns almost gone, I don’t think they’re out there”

Joel says, pointing to the window covered in rain droplet’s. “Well I just wanna see if they have something, I’ll be back soon ”you say getting ready to open be door. “ok I’m coming with you” Joel says turning to get his jacket “it’ll only be a minute promise” you say giving him a quick smile before opening the door “be careful!” Joel yells before you close the door.

~~~

Joel was right, most of the vendors were gone except an old man selling shovels and a lady selling potatoes. Not wanting to go home empty-handed you thought you should try to go to someone you knew of who bakes. But you knew they would probably charge you more for it. You walk 5 minutes down the pathway and turn down an alley you knew he lived on. You knocked one of the doors hoping it was the right one, you a stepped back looking at the rain hit your shoes as you waited for someone to answer the door.

A tall nice looking young man answered the door maybe 27or 26 definitely young when the world went to shit. By the big scar from his eyebrow to cheek, you knew he was the baker everyone spoke of. “Hi not trying to bother you, but I wondered if you could sell me some ingredients for a cake about… this big” you say showing him the size with your hands. You laugh at your own gesture, “Are there not any vendors you can bother?” He says scrunch up his face in disgust showing his rotten looking teeth.

“Ain’t none left out” you reply not as humorous as before. “uhhh I guess I can, but it’s gonna cost you about 35” he says giving you a creepy smiling that made you insanely uncomfortable “fuck that, for two eggs and some flower, 30 max” you low balled, you had forty but wasn’t willing to spend it all on a small cake “you out here by yourself? ” he asks, looking down the ally to see if someone else was with you

“no I’m not” you reply quickly hoping he doesn’t try anything stupid “so who you out here wit because I don’t see-“. You cut him off “are you gonna sell me the damn eggs or not” you say, bringing back his focus to the deal “35, final offer” he yells out you stay quiet for a second “Deal” you say grudgingly.

“Pay upfront” he says, holding out in a grabbing motion. “No, half” you say irritated “ok that works” he says looking down the ally again you count out 20 but hand him 17. He walks back inside for a second before coming back with a similar looking man, only older. The man looks you up and down like he’s plotting something “yeah she works”. You look down at his hands, there were no ingredients in sight just a rope. The old man looks down the ally “shi-“ before you can react the older one grabs you trying to pull you in the house.

You punch him in the face, making him lose his grip on you. You fall back on the concrete hard, You try to get up but slip on the wet ground. Before you can try to get up again, a fist connects to your face making the side of your face throb. The younger one grabs your arms, trying to tie you up. “Please no” you scream attempting to kick the older one away, “Stop moving Bitch!” the younger one yells trying to knot the rope. You kick the older one again and miss. He punches you again square in your jaw. You feel blood trickling down your lip and tears sting your eyes, “fuck you!” You scream, trying to kick as the older attempts to pull off your pants. Your shoe connects to his jaw.

“BITCH” he hissed, stumbling back he quickly picked up a large loose brick and smashing it against your leg at full force. You scream out in pain and everything goes black, amidst the darkness you swear you could hear Joel’s voices. When you wake up a couple of minutes later from the continuous rain droplets hitting your face.

Your eyelids feel heavy, and your head pounding, you realize Your arms are free. In the distance, You see Joel on top of one of the men, his fist connecting with his face over and over again. Slowly sitting up, you wipe your eyes, confused if what you were seeing was real.

As soon as you stand up completely, you wince in pain trying to keep your leg from giving out. Looking over, you see one of the men covered in blood in the doorway of the house. You couldn’t tell which one because of how badly his face was beaten in. In his pocket was your 17 ration cards, you bend down carefully yanking the blood covered cards out his pocket. “Cunt!” You say spitting at the unrecognizable face. You slowly stepped over the man and limp over to Joel, who was still punching the man. Instead of intervening you watched for a second as Joel punched him again and again and, again, without mercy not noticing your presence . You had never seen someone fight so ruthlessly for before you, and deep down you liked it.

You watched the rain carry the man's blood down into the cracks in the ground. Walking directly behind Joel, you finally grabbed his shoulder, “j- Joel, you can sto-“ suddenly you feel dizzy and you collapse. Joel instantly catches you, his blood hands gripping into your shirt.

He holds you in his arms for a minute, his shaking hand coming up to move away the bloody pieces of hair stuck on your face. “I thought I lost you” he quietly repeats, caressing your face for a second before hoisting you up in his arms and fire man carrying you away from the bloody scene.

~~~~

Two days have passed since the attack, you have probably been awake a total of 5 hours. Mostly in and out of consciousness, sleeping in bed and eating the little bits of food Joel brought you. Waking up you felt a bit better than yesterday, you decide to get up. Limping to the bathroom, you see yourself for the first time in the mirror since the attack. You walk closer to the mirror, slowly turning your head to examine your face and all its bruises. The whole right side of your face was partially swollen and bruised. Your lip had been busted, a big gash on it close to the corner.

You touched your lip to see if it had scabbed some. You wince, pulling your hand back in pain. You hear footsteps behind you and jump back, making your legs buckle. Joel quick grabs your waist, keeping you from falling. “It’s just me y/n, you’re ok” Joel says helping you regain your balance. “ Sorry I thought- never mind” you say letting out a tired sigh, you hold on to the bathroom sink for a better balance. When Joel see’s you're stabled, he finally lets go of you.

“You need to be in bed, your leg isn’t healed yet ”he says look at you with concern in his eyes. “ I thought I was feeling better” you laugh out, limping back towards the bed. “ I hate seeing you like this y/n” Joel says sitting down next to you, “ what do you mean I look great ”You say gesturing to your swollen face while positioning yourself up on some pillows. Joel lets out a small laugh “ at least you still got your humor” he states, grabbing the mug you gave him off the dresser before handing it to you.

“ At least…- what’s this ?” You ask looking down at the cup “it's coffee, to wake you up a bit” he says “thanks you” you whisper taking a sip the hot coffee stings your lip. There’s a beat of silence before he speaks,“ I should’ve been there earlier” Joel mumbles looking at you with tired eyes before wiping his face and sighing in his hands. “ There’s nothing else you could have done” you say, putting the coffee back down on the night stand.

“No, y/n There was… I followed you, it was late and raining, I didn’t want anything to happen, so I followed, when you passed the market I followed you to that alley. I saw you there smiling with that man a-and I don’t know what I thought but… I left you, I regretted and when I turned back I saw-”

He cuts himself off looking at the ground angry distorting his face, his fist balling up tight.

You don’t respond right away, letting the words sink in before you answer. You run your hand up the side of his face, resting it there.

“ Did you like it?” You ask, staring intently at Joel, “like what?” He asked confused. “Did you like beating them bloody?” you ask, eyes never leave his search for a reaction. “Y/N I-I Couldn’t control m-“ he says slowly shaking his head as thought about the incident in detail swirl through his mind.

“yes or no” you ask again plainly “yes, I did but-“ you cut him off quickly “good, they fucking deserved it” you say angrily.

“Why did you do it baby tell my why you did it, I wanna hear you say it” you say desperately want to hear Joel’s reasoning. “ When I saw you like that… it was like I couldn’t see or feel anything but anger, I hadn’t even realized how bad it was until I heard your voice calling for me“. He says look back at you with tired eyes “I thought I had lost another person I cared for, I never wanted you to see me like that” he says with another stressed filled sigh “they deserved it, if you hadn’t come when you did…”

You takes a deep breath before talking again “all I know is when I woke up, the people who had hurt me were hurting as well and I Revel in the thought, of them knowing you killed them for me, to protect me, when nobody else would. You did nothing wrong baby you protected me”

Joel doesn’t say anything, just leaves a lazy kiss on your lips. You deepen the kiss ignoring the pain, pulling him closer, Joel cups the back of your head and you straddle him. He breaks the kiss for a second to kiss your forehead “I don’t ever wanna feel like that again” he says pain straining his voice.

[beskad]

bless café bustelo, I switched to it a few months ago and I can never go back to that shitty ass starbucks or store brand ever again. everything else tastes like bitter bathwater to me now

[bowserwife]

I need a Café Bustelo crop top

[seth-shitposts]

What our food shelf/fridge looks like:

-chai latte

-whole milk

-sweet creamer

-a brick of ground café bustelo & a mason jar of it as well

-strawberry nesquick powder mix

-shredded cheese blend

-small tortillas

-preportioned/mixed seasoning blends

-granola bars

-some sort of preserved fruit [either apple sauce or peaches cup]

-a cereal that is probably most definitely stale

-local honey

-several different pre-prepped salads (when we can afford em)

-several frozen pizzas

-grape uncrustables [frozen peanut butter & jelly sandwiches]

-[dark] chocolate covered almonds

-sometimes a couple fruits. [Honey crisp apples, fresh peaches, a pomegranate, those small oranges, mangos. Sometimes red grapes or cherries.] [but has to be if we're in the mood to eat fruit & can afford it because if we aren't in the mood there's a 50% chance it will not get eaten because it was forgotten about or sumthin.]

---

Our saving grace is that our boss is very kind to us 🥹🥹 he gives us free breakfast and lunch and we want to sob every time we think on it a little too long. (So like over the course of 5 days we have 10 free meals.) (I think I might go cry about that rn actually cause our job & boss supplies us with half our meals out of the entire week.)

[bigbadripley]

Chapter 18 - Come Here

Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley x Female!OC

Summary: Marc never expected to see his childhood friend Simone ever again. To Simone, Marc may as well have been dead. However, when Simone met Steven 15 years after Marc disappeared, she couldn’t help but notice how familiar he was.

⚠️ 18+!! | 3.8k Words | Third-person omniscient | Dark?fic/Angst/Smut | AU/AT |

Warnings: Heavy language, OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma, mention of alcohol, smoking, death mention, unhealthy coping mechanisms, SOMEHOW there's fluff at the end. **I won’t be exhaustive with the smut warnings. Unprotected p in v in a car (we classy) Safe travels!***

A/N: I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings.

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

Chapter list

"Why can't you tell that I'm desperate? Doesn't it show in my smile? Why can't you tell that I'm bad for ya? It doesn't show in your eyes" -"Come Here" by Dominic Fike

  This day is wrong. Simone thought to herself. Everything felt off about what started as a seemingly ordinary Wednesday. It began with her coffee being weaker than usual even though she used the same three scoops of Café Bustelo as always, then her patient Corey didn't show or call, which was unlike him. 

Another unrelated but monumental occurrence that fucked up her day was the dream she had the night before. Of course, it had to be about Marc, and of course, she woke up a blubbering wreck. It was a perfect projection of what she imagined would happen if that stupid moon god kept him on his leash: 

They'd fish him out of the Illinois River.

The final wrench in her day was when she called to check in on Laura, and Maxine told her that she was pronounced brain dead. After that, it was hard to get through her already shortened workday. 

Simone stood outside of her office building with a lit cigarette in hand, reflecting on and regretting the outfit she chose to wear that morning. It was as business casual as usual: a brown leather high-waisted skirt that came right above her knees, a pumpkin orange ribbed sweater, and a long brown blazer to match the skirt. It was cute and functional, but the chilly breeze cut through her bare legs. 

She took a deep drag from the smoke and let the warmth fill her before another gust hit and reminded her to go to her car. She was done for the day and didn't need to stand outside. Before she took off to the parking lot, her phone buzzed and took her attention away. 

Unknown number: Need a ride?

She stared confused at the text for a moment, having a "the call is coming from inside the house" moment when it buzzed again, and another bubble appeared under it. 

Unknown number: On your right, Chi-town.

She turned her attention to the described direction and saw the taxi, and, as expected by the nickname used in the message, Jake was sitting in front of the wheel. 

For a moment, the unknown number perplexed her, but with the kind of connections Spector has, and the fact that he used to use the name Jake Lockley, it would be no surprise that the man has his own phone along with a job and identity. 

She didn't need a ride but didn't mind the company he offered. She flicked her cigarette away and started in that direction.

As Simone approached his taxi, Jake eyed her up and down, thinking of how breathtaking the gal looked in a skirt. 

Calves like that? She'd be a damn Amazonian if she was taller. He thought to himself. 

She got into his back seat customarily and wasted no time asking about his presence. 

"You stalkin' me now?" She asked, not holding back her accent in the slightest. Jake turned his body around to face her, 

"What gave ya that idea?" 

"You're outside my work." 

"Doll, I got eyes and ears everywhere. Ya weren't that hard to find." He explained. Simone let out a soft snort at the idea, unsure of what he meant by that. "So, where ya wanna go?" 

"Who said I even needed a ride?"

"You're in my back seat, ain't ya?" 

After the day Simone had, she felt like the taximan showing up unexpectedly was the universe trying to make up for it, offering her the option to go get some grog. 

"Take me to The Waltz, then." She requested with a shrug. 

"Ah, where we first met, how cute." Jake laughed as he started driving in that direction. The Waltz was the bar where he picked her up from the night she showed up and turned his whole world upside down. Thinking about how so much had changed since then made him crave a shot. "Can I buy you a drink when we get there?" 

"Aren't you working?"

"Hardly. Rideshare caused a slow business." 

The thought lingered on her mind, knowing it wouldn't be good for her to spend her night drinking alone. She also wasn't sure if she wanted this to go much further. Not yet, anyway. She chose to propose a test.

"Only if you can guess what I drink. Top three." Simone told him, crossing her arms.

No way he'll get all three. 

Jake didn't shy from the challenge and thought of everything he knew about the woman so far:

She's hot, educated, complex, and got bags under her eyes. He thought before providing his answer. "Straight whiskey, chilled tequila, and a good glass of wine. None of that fruity shit. I'm a rum guy, myself." 

The accuracy shook Simone's core, not catching how attentive he was before. Either that, or he used his eyes and ears as he said. "How did you get it spot-fuckin'-on?" 

"Ain't a schmuck alive who can hide a thing from me. You strike me as a sophisticated yet well-oiled machine." He explained. "Classy, but look like you ain't had a decent night's sleep in a few months. You also smoke, drink, and deal with headcases daily." 

Also look like you could do better things with that mouth, but I'll keep that to myself. 

Again, everything Jake said was true.

His next trick will probably be knowing exactly where to kiss on my neck or some shit. Simone thought to herself before brushing the idea away, feeling the image creep up on her. "Do you observe all the ladies you drive around this closely?" 

"Only when they've tied me to a chair. Believe it or not, 'doesn't happen very often." He joked. "Also, no signs of your boys spying on me through mirrors." 

The confirmation alone that Marc wouldn't lurk on them caused Simone to bite her lip involuntarily. "Lucky for me, then." She said, unprompted. Jake caught that gesture and how her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. 

I wonder if that's an invitation. He thought.

Simone couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that was pushing her over the edge. Every time Jake's grip would adjust on the wheel, it got harder to breathe. The air in the cab grew thicker with each glance he stole from the rearview mirror. 

It became increasingly difficult to swallow as her thoughts drifted from the whiskey she wanted to the weakness in her legs. How Jake sat leaned slightly back as he drove, relaxed but in complete control, radiating big dick energy, and rightfully so in her experience. 

Is this lust or anxiety? Probably both. She thought to herself as she felt a bit of moisture gather in her underarms.

Jake caught her gaze in the mirror and stayed there,

Shit, those eyes could kill me right here. He thought. The Waltz was coming up on their right, and a stronger man than him would have just made the turn, but Jake kept driving straight. 

"Whoops," He said with a hit of sarcasm. "Missed your turn." 

Simone knew he did it on purpose. She knew his game and judging by his willingness to play, he knew hers. Self-control was gone at that moment, and she could have asked him to just take her back to her place instead and left it be, but-

His hands, mouth, face, and body. Just not the man I'm pissed off at right now. 

"That's fine," She started, unbuckling her seatbelt and scooting to the middle of the spacious back seat. She brought up her left foot first and propped it on the back of the passenger seat. "You're welcome to keep driving." She finished, following it up with her other foot resting on the back of the driver's seat. A fire was ignited in her belly, and all she could think of at that moment was-

Let's see how different he really is. 

Jake tilted the rearview mirror down slightly, giving him a direct line of sight to the inside of her leather skirt and the perfect view of her painfully sheer black underwear. He brought his left finger up to the meter and turned it off without a second thought,

"I know a spot." He informed before thoughtfully reaching the same hand back and caressing her thigh the best he could. The pads of his fingers danced along the soft, delicate skin, admiring every mark and groove that had the privilege of residing on such a magnetic surface. Jake considered himself a man of culture and deeply appreciated thighs. 

Simone rolled her head on her shoulders, alleviating the stiffness in her neck that came with the situation's intensity. The cold, calloused hands she knew so well ran up and down her inner leg and teased goosebumps across her hot skin as she watched the other command the car's wheel. 

"Hope I don't make a mess of your seats." She expressed, ticking the corner of her mouth upward. There was something devious and filthy but intoxicating about this feeling she had. It was deliciously rebellious and self-destructive. 

Her mind flashed back to how upset Marc was with the idea of Jake being into her, and a part of her brain tried to make her care. The only problem was: she didn't care as much as she thought she needed to. That body in the driver's seat was irresistible to her every time. 

Jake eyed her in the mirror again, admiring the display that he feared would be a mirage if he looked away for too long. "For you, Hermosa, I'll clean this taxi myself, top to bottom." He told her. 

They continued to eye-fuck each other until the car came to a stop behind an old brick building that seemingly served no purpose anymore. It occurred to them both that they could have taken this to either of their apartments, but it seemed needless to say aloud. When the cab was parked, Jake flicked his hat off into the passenger seat, wasting no time getting out of the car and reentering to join Simone in the back. 

They kissed each other hastily and without yield like they were on a mission to close as much space between them as possible, clawing at the fabric on each other's bodies and searching for something to hold onto in the back of this taxi, stealing each other's breath. 

Simone lapped up his essence like the sweetest candy, trailing her tongue through every corner of his mouth, just as she had done many times before. They were sitting facing each other in this seat, almost awkwardly, seeming to coax each other into making a move. 

Instinctually, Simone took hold of his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled away, only letting it spring back once she could see his eyes. There was a small dribble of blood left where her teeth bit, but he didn't feel any pain in the gesture. It only drove him crazier.

Jake shifted and nearly yanked Simone into his lap, strategically riding up her skirt as her legs split wide over his thighs. The heavy making out and panting continued as she vigorously rutted her pulsating core against his hardening bulge, spilling soft moans onto his tongue. 

He gripped her ass and pushed her down more forcefully onto him as he buried his face into her neck, kissing and biting between growling filthy words in Spanish. Simone ground her clit roughly into him, feeling herself crumble with every comment. 

"That's it, doll. Tell me what you want." He whispered, bringing the language back to English. She got her hands to the sides of his face and stopped her hip movement, directing all his concentration to her eyes as she spoke.

"Dentro de mí." Simone told him, followed by her flicking the tip of her tongue on his lips, which only furthered Jake's need for her. If his dick wasn't so agonizingly hard, he could have sat and stared at her, smiling at him for as long as she allowed. He nearly did just that until she pushed her pelvis closer, reminding him why she was in his lap. 

When Simone felt Jake's hands move between their bodies, she pushed herself back slightly to give him space. She wasn't thinking about any of this or considering the repercussions or fathoming her own movements. She was on autopilot. 

The sound of a zipper and a slight shuffle of denim later, Jake nestled his palm to the small of Simone's back and used his other hand to maneuver her damp panties aside. Nobody removed their clothes. There was no time or space to think about those things. 

Jake pulled Simone back into his body as she positioned her entrance at his head, and without a hint of hesitation, he pushed his hips upward with enough force to cause a sharp sting in her abdomen. He hissed air through his teeth as he entered her cunt. He needed to feel her, and she felt fucking spectacular. 

The impact of his pelvis becoming flush with her made a loud smack and caused Simone to bellow out a harsh groan and throw her head forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaving balmy breaths over his skin.

"You good?" He asked, brushing her hair away from the side of her face to gauge her expression. "Don't wanna break ya." She was flushed and slack-jawed, clearly stunned from the blow. She answered with a nod and jerk of her hips, 

"I'm not porcelain." She choked out. Jake loved that answer.

Simone set the pace by rolling her hips, and though Jake was more than happy to let her do her thing, he wanted to go deeper than she could achieve on her own. He pushed upward each time she rocked downward, causing more needy, desperate, guttural moans. To keep herself centered, she pressed her chest close to his, gripping the back of his leather bomber tighter with each pound.

She didn't seem out of place in the position, knowing her way around his body, having been here dozens of times and still feeling fucking fantastic every time. It made sense to her. It was familiar to her but different enough to feel new as she stared through half-closed eyes out of the rear window of the taxi, inebriated by how her pussy throbbed around him, and he whispers-

"You take it so fuckin' well, doll."

Jake could tell she was close to unraveling on top of him, but he knew he was much closer, and the feeling of her tightening and the whines from her lips weren't helping. He brought his hand back between them and pressed his thumb to her swollen clit, rolling it in circles and using his other hand to keep control of her hips, slamming her down on him. 

Simone felt like she was on fire, the burning ache in her gut growing more intense the more Jake crashed into her. Her throat fell dry, and she could only manage wheezing grunts. Her brain felt like it was about to shut down, focusing solely on her climax as it shot through her bloodstream like venom and made her toes curl in her Oxfords. 

The second her walls gripped him, he felt her body give in and her legs shake. All it took was one last deep thrust upward before he matched her one-for-one. 

"S-shit, hermosa." He muttered, followed by a grunt nearly cutting off his sentence as he burst inside her. Simone was breathing heavily into his ear as their chests swelled and collapsed against each other. Their heartbeats were sporadic and thumped into the others' ribcage like two drums trying to outplay each other. 

It was bliss, but only momentarily, as they came down. Once Simone had the strength to move, she shifted off Jake and sank into the seat next to him, pulling her skirt back down her legs with a huff of satisfaction and exhaustion. 

"How much do I owe you? You turned the meter off." She asked with a breathless laugh. Jake ticked an eyebrow up,

"This one's on me, don't worry about it." He answered in a tone that sounded drained. He could get used to the feeling. She smirked and bent down, digging through her bag. She found her pack of smokes and pulled the lone cigarette out with her lighter. Jake knew little about this strange woman, but he could tell she had some shit on her mind. "Seems like ya needed it." He spoke up again, referring to the impromptu car sex.

Simone shrugged, not intending to tell him her life story or why she needed the distraction, as she opened the door to step out and smoke. "You got another one of those?" Jake asked, pointing to the dart between her fingers. 

"My last one. I never smoke the whole thing, though, so we can share." She offered. He gave her a what the hell? look and got out of the car with her after zipping his pants back up. 

Simone lit up, and they passed it back and forth. She was entranced by the visual of the face she knew as Marc smoking a cigarette like it was nothing. 

Marc doesn't smoke, and neither does Steven. She thought, overanalyzing it. Her studying didn't go unnoticed by Jake. "Take a picture, Chi-town." He teased. 

She took the smoke back from him, nestled it between her lips, and took a long drag that filled her lungs and burned her throat before passing it right back and letting the cloud escape. "It's just strange to see. Your host doesn't smoke." She explained. 

"Neither do I, and by the way you seem to only take a few puffs before throwin' the thing away, neither do you," Jake said before taking his own drag. Simone still watched him thoughtfully as a plume of fog left his mouth. Their postures mirrored each other, leaning against the cab. 

He really is observant. She thought to herself before speaking up again. "I quit for the longest. Only seem to pick it back up when shit hits the fan." She said. 

A moment of silence passes between them. Not uncomfortably or awkwardly, but contently until Jake felt like he wanted to pick the attractive woman's brain. "The frantic fuck in the back seat and the smokin' lead me to believe you're tryna forget about somethin'." He spoke up. 

Simone had reached the end of the cigarette, the final puff causing her fingers to burn when holding the butt before she tossed it away with a shrug. 

"I got you pegged, hermosa," Jake said again, egging her to explain. She looked away, trying not to let her face tell him anything, but he still pushed. "C'mon, doll, you just came all over my seats, and now you wanna play coy? What's goin' on?"

A heavy exhale escaped her as it became clear that he wouldn't give up. "It's a couple of things."

"One of those things include Marc and the other guy?" 

"Steven. His name is Steven, and yeah." She started, correcting him with a bit of bite in her tone for forgetting Steven's name. Jake liked the snap, though. "They want my help with something, and I don't know if I'm qualified enough." 

"Is that somethin' me?"

"Bingo, Bronx. They don't wanna black out anymore, and I guess I'm the only person who can do something about that, but you won't level with 'em."

"Well, shit, it's not like I want that fuckin' pigeon following me around all the time, but I wanna keep the suit, and I can't have it without the bird," Jake explained as he stuck his hands in his pockets to fight the blade-like breeze. "I dunno why they'd give that up."

"Because Khonshu's a bad actor, and I think you know that too."

"I ain't no saint either."

"Well, neither's Marc, or me for that matter. Steven's probably the closest thing to one, but he's also in our boat by association." 

Another silent moment passed between them like the wind. Instinctively, Simone stepped to the side and leaned her shoulder on Jake's to find some warmth. It was a comfortable and trusting gesture that made him feel good inside. 

"What about the other thing on your mind?" He asked, cutting through the hush again. He could tell she was still holding something back, and without warning, he brought the arm she leaned on up and over her shoulders, pulling her into his side. 

The moment surprised Simone, but she loosened up the second she was close enough to breathe in the scent that had felt like home to her. The side of her face touched the old leather of his coat, and she thoughtfully brought her hands under it, wrapping her arms around his midsection and introducing her rosy fingertips to his body heat.

Jake felt her take that long deep breath of comfort against him, and his thoughts went haywire. 

Goddamn, Lockley. Catch feelin's much?

"One of my patients was pronounced brain dead today. I can't help but feel like it's my fault." She admitted, bringing the man back to Earth. He appreciated that she trusted him with that and wanted to extend the best advice he would think.

"You really a doctor if you don't blame yourself for at least one patient's death?" Jake asked rhetorically. He knew Simone wasn't that kind of doctor but imagined it applied the same. Before she responded with words, he felt her arms tighten a bit around him. She needed this. Probably needed it more than the drink or the sex.

"That's awfully wise of you." 

Jake wanted to take credit and feel like he did something there but found himself in an honest mood. "Heard it on a TV show." He told. The air immediately brightened as Simone laughed, the sound and feeling reverberating through Jake's body and making him chuckle like a contagion and swell his heart. 

It was official: he liked her. A lot. But with the complicatedness of everything, he knew it wouldn't just be a matter of them hanging out, getting to know each other, falling in love, normal couple shit. He wasn't just the fist of Khonshu. He was apparently an extension of another person now. Another person that Simone truly loved. 

"Before you get any ideas, I'm not lookin' for anythin' serious." He spoke up again with a voice that sounded doubtful. He didn't loosen his hold on her, either, not trying to make it seem like a full-on rejection. 

"Don't worry about it; I know the deal. Wondering if I should have had your wrap-up first, though." She replied with a snicker as she remembered the gathering fluid in her undergarments. 

"The other guy wear a rubber?" He asked, looking down at her to catch her expression. All she did was shake her head, telling him she trusted his body. Rightfully so, as Jake didn't sleep around, and he doubted the other two did either. "Okay then, nothin' to worry about."

[okinerua]

once i buy my café bustelo instant coffee i will be live blogging the sodium and potassium gated channels opening and closing in my neurons

[suzytrendcast]

:::Consumer Trend::: Cafe bustelo --> The resurgence of cultural authenticity in our daily consumption is no more evident than in the rising popularity of Cafe Bustelo, a distinctive brand that offers vibrant, authentic Latin flavor in its coffee products. Rooted in its Hispanic heritage, this brand has seen a significant uptick in interest over the past year, with a +33% growth in Google search queries and an impressive total volume of over 74,000 searches in the past year alone. Steeped in tradition that goes far beyond the caffeinated delight, Café Bustelo has begun to mark its territory not only in the beverage industry but also across the retail, eCommerce, and CPG spheres. The brand has a range of products on offer that appeal to a wide clientele - from instant coffee and ready-to-drink beverages to ground coffee and K-Cup Pods. Some of their most sought-after products include - Café Bustelo Espresso Style Dark Roast Instant Coffee and Café Bustelo Espresso Dark Roast Ground Coffee Brick. Not only have these products been met with positive reviews, but their availability has also spread throughout a variety of retail spaces - from global giants like Walmart and Amazon to drugstore stalwarts Walgreens. The trend of Café Bustelo speaks volumes of the consumer's current preference for products tying to ethnic authenticity and the nostalgia of traditional flavors. This shift indicates that the average consumer's palate is becoming increasingly sophisticated and diverse, craving unique and authentic experiences that transport them to different cultures – in this case, Latin America. Furthermore, the growth of Café Bustelo underscores the significant impact of venturing into an omnichannel approach in today's dynamically changing environment. Their widespread accessibility, both in brick-and-mortar stores and online, has certainly amplified the brand's reach and will likely continue to push the upward trajectory of its popularity. The Café Bustelo phenomenon reflects a broader shift in the consumer goods sector, illuminating the ever-evolving taste preferences and consumption patterns of today's market. For brands and businesses within the food-beverage, retail, eCommerce, and company-product categories, Café Bustelo serves as an exciting case study of successful blend encompassing nostalgia, multicultural representation, and broad, multi-channel retail strategies.

[tgirlsaintlawrence]

The morning coffee diarrhea hits different when it’s Café bustelo

[rebeleden]

Watch "Café Bustelo, La Llave or Café Pilon? Which to quarantine with?" on YouTube

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