#matt brewing company

[auraeseer]

Satisfying, but not quite like Kip Addotta's . . .

[brewscoop]

Check out the latest update on the Seattle craft beer scene! The partnership marks a significant milestone in SHG’s ongoing commitment to supporting the craft beer community in Seattle Dive into how Pike Brewing and Fremont Brewing are joining forces to push the boundaries of quality, innovation, and community. Get ready for a new era of brewing excellence and growth 🍻 #CraftBeerSeattle #PikeBrewing #FremontBrewing

[lovz2hike]

Montana Deer Hunt 2022

Our second year applying for Montana and we didn’t get a tag for the Mule Deer Buck so we each got a tag for a whitetail doe.  Our plan was to go no matter what even if we didn’t get drawn for a buck because they such an amazing youth program. So we loaded up the kids and headed to Montana.  This would be Alyssa’s 4th year hunting and Reagans 1st ever big game hunt.   The drive to Montana from…

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗔 𝗗𝗔𝗬 𝗧𝗢 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗚𝗘𝗧

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where, in a day full of downs, Y/N faces a series of challenges at work that culminate in an anxiety attack in the car on the way home, but Matt is by her side to bring her back.

WARNING: Anxiety attack, crying, bad thoughts, bad day.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N sighed as she sat at her office desk, preparing herself for another day of work. The comforting smell of the freshly brewed coffee Matt bought at the Starbucks drive thru on the way to her company surrounded her as she adjusted her chair and turned on her computer.

But what seemed like a smooth start quickly turned into a disaster.

As the girl reached for her mouse, her elbow hit the cup, which surprisingly wasn't closed properly, spilling the scalding liquid onto her keyboard and legs. An involuntary scream escaped her lips as she jumped up from her chair, trying to clean up the mess with her hands, hurting them in the process. Her eyes traveled across her desk, picking up the nearest blank papers - since she didn't have any napking - draping them over her thighs.

"Great, just great." She muttered to herself, feeling the penetrating heat of the drink on her skin and the bitter aroma mixing with the smell of the office.

Embarrassed, she crumpled up the paper, throwing them in the trash beneath her desk before heading over to the tea table, picking up a handful of napkins, her eyes darting around her, feeling gazes burning into her back.

The girl took a deep breath, turning around and returning to her seat. Surreptitiously, she cleaned the keyboard as best she could and tried to dry her legs with what was left of the napkins, but the damage was done.

Feeling discouraged, she tried to focus on her work, but her mind was troubled by the incident.

Hours passed, and Y/N was immersed in an important project when her boss, Mr. Johnson appeared next to her desk.

“Y/N, can you give me the reports from the finance department?” He asked in a serious voice, his eyes running over the small drips of coffee dry on the wooden surface as his nose wrinkled at the strong smell.

Without thinking, Y/N picked up the documents that were in the pile of papers on the right side of her desk and handed them to him with a confident smile. However, her confidence quickly disappeared when she read a small excerpt from the back of the last page, then realizing that she had given him the wrong papers.

A feeling of horror overcame her when she saw the shocked expression on her boss's face as he looked at the contents.

"What is this, Y/N?" His voice was thick with anger as he looked at her disapprovingly. "Those aren't the reports I asked for!"

Y/N felt her face burn with embarrassment as she tried to articulate an apology, but the words seemed to stick in her throat. She helplessly watched her boss throw the papers haphazardly beside her right arm, turning and walking away, muttering irritably about the incompetence of some employees.

Shoulders slumped, Y/N turned forward, fighting back tears of frustration, her blurry vision distorting the entire contents of her computer. She wondered how she could have made such a silly mistake and felt discouraged by her own incompetence.

As she tried to refocus on her work with the onset of a headache and her chest burning in agony, the office light flickered and then went out completely. A collective sigh of frustration echoed through the office as all the employees were plunged into darkness.

Y/N clenched her fists in frustration as she realized she hadn't saved her recent work, the black screen staring back at her. She knew she would have to start from scratch, probably take work home so she could finish the task on time, having already irritated her boss beyond belief, a disheartening thought after such a disastrous day.

In the dark silence of the office, Y/N fought the feeling of defeat that threatened to consume her. She knew she would have to overcome the day's challenges and continue, after all, she was just another employee and couldn't afford to rest her mind before keep going, and at the moment, all she wanted was to escape the turmoil and forget the terrible day she had.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The clock marked the end of the day, and the office was empty. Y/N collected her belongings and headed to the company entrance, ready to meet her boyfriend Matt, along with Nick and Chris, who would pick her up after they finished recording the car video that would be posted the next day.

She waited patiently in front of the front doors, watching the strong wind sway the palm trees around the luxurious entrance. Her thoughts wandered to the disastrous day she had at work, reliving each moment in her mind, wearing herself down with the thoughts of what she could have done better for everything that happened, not happening. The feeling of failure weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she forced herself to maintain a neutral expression, hiding her emotions from the few passersby who passed by.

Time passed, and Matt still hadn't arrived. Y/N checked the time on her phone several times, feeling impatience growing inside her. She knew she should give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, unforeseen events happened, but her anxious mind couldn't help but think about all the things that could have happened.

Then, as if the universe were conspiring against her, the gray clouds above her head broke, and torrential rain began to fall. Y/N looked up, feeling the cold drops wet her face and penetrate her clothes, soiling her pants even more. She wished she had brought an umbrella, but it was too late to regret it now.

As she waited in the rain, Y/N felt flooded with a mix of emotions. The frustration of the day was mixed with concern about Matt being late and the feeling of helplessness in the face of adverse weather. She wanted to burst into tears, to let out all the tension and anguish she had been carrying, but a part of her refused to give in.

Instead, Y/N maintained a mask of calm, keeping her emotions locked inside herself as her mind screamed silently, her arms crossed tightly beneath her breasts, trying to trap as much heat as possible.

Finally, after an endless wait, Y/N saw Matt's car approaching. Her heart leaped in relief as he stopped in front of her, watching Chris rush out the passenger door, leaving it open for her and getting into the backseat next to Nick.

"Sorry I'm late, babe." Matt asked after making sure she was seated and comfortable, a guilty smile decorating his face. "We had some problems with the topics and barely noticed the time passing."

Y/N just nodded, forcing a smile in response. She knew there was no point in complaining or breaking down now.

As the car drove away from the company, leaving chaos and rain behind, Y/N took a deep breath as she leaned her head against the glass, ignoring the discomfort of her clothes sticking against her skin.

In the back seat, Chris and Nick were immersed in a lively conversation about one of the topics discussed in the video as the car moved along the wet road, a topic that Y/N was sure she would've joined on the discussion if she wasn't feeling so bad.

The steady rhythm of the rain beating against the glass provided a relaxing background, but this calm was soon interrupted when Chris decided, out of the blue, that he wanted to connect his phone to the car speaker to put some music.

"Wait, I found a song earlier today that's a very Lil Skies vibe." Chris said with an excited smile, fishing his cell out of the front pocket of his sweatpants.

Before he could select the song, Nick acted quickly, taking the device out of Chris's hand.

"No, wait! Billie released a new song recently." Nick recalled, with a challenging tone of voice. "You always pick the same songs."

Chris frowned, retrieving his phone again, as if it were a tug of war.

"No, today I want to listen to my songs!"

The exchange quickly turned into an argument, with Chris and Nick gradually raising their voices as they argued over who should control the car stereo like two kids, while Matt watched them in the rearview mirror, telling them to shut up from time to time. The friendly atmosphere of the previous moment quickly disappeared, replaced by a palpable tension that filled the interior of the vehicle.

Meanwhile, Y/N huddled tighter on her seat, feeling more and more overwhelmed by the tense atmosphere. She tried to focus on the scenery passing by the window, but the sound of Chris and Nick's loud, gruff voices hit her like an avalanche.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm her nerves. She knew she shouldn't get involved in the brothers' fight, that she had nothing to do with it, and that, unsurprisingly, discussions like that were routine in her life. But despite her efforts to control herself, the pressure of the horrible day she had had weighed on her shoulders like an unbearable burden.

As the argument continued to intensify, Y/N felt a wave of anxiety wash over her, the desperation to scream at them to shut up getting bigger. Her heartbeat accelerated, her breathing became shallow, and her hands began to shake involuntarily.

She knew an anxiety attack was coming, but she fought to contain it, fearing what would happen if she lost control, not wanting to worry the boys, or worse, upset them even more.

However, even with all her determination, Y/N was unable to prevent the inevitable. Chris and Nick's rising voices, mixed with the crushing weight of her own worries, were too much to bear. A sudden sob escaped her throat, tearing the air inside the car, which was soon followed by more sobs, each one more anguished than the last.

Her shoulders began to shake violently, her body contorting under the overwhelming weight of her emotions. She tried to hold back, but the tears came in torrents, blurring her vision and obscuring her world.

Matt looked away from the road to look at her, his expression turning to immediate concern when he saw her condition.

"Y/N, babe, what's going on?" He asked, his voice full of alarm.

Chris and Nick abruptly fell silent, their argument forgotten as they looked at Y/N with expressions of shock and concern.

But Y/N couldn't respond. She was deep in her own mind, fighting the waves of anxiety that consumed her. Her world had narrowed to nothing but pain and despair, her body shaking uncontrollably under the weight of her thoughts.

The interior of the car was immersed in a tense silence. Matt kept a steady hand on the steering wheel, but his attention was entirely focused on Y/N, whose sobs filled the space between them.

"Baby? Hey, petal, look at me." Matt asked softly, his voice flooding with concern as he tried to reach her through the abyss of her anguish.

Y/N reluctantly raised her eyes to meet Matt's, but her vision was blurred by the tears still streaming down her face. She felt a wave of despair as she realized that she couldn't calm down no matter how hard she tried.

Matt took his right hand off the steering wheel, keeping control of the car with his left one, bringing it to Y/N's leg, stroking the wet covered skin with a firm touch, trying to bring her back.

"Breathe with me, baby. C'mon, take a deep breath. That's it, in... then out."

He began counting in a low voice, guiding her through deep, slow breaths. Y/N tried to follow his instructions, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing and the comforting feeling of Matt's touch.

Meanwhile, Chris remained silent in the backseat, his expression a mixture of guilt and concern. He knew that his actions had contributed to Y/N's current state, and that weighed heavily on his conscience.

Beside him, Nick placed a light hand on her shoulder, silently conveying support. He wanted to find the right words to comfort Y/N, but he felt helpless in the face of the situation.

Then, suddenly, Matt turned the steering wheel abruptly, turning the car towards the side of the road, parking it there quickly, knowing that he would get nowhere if he kept trying to help her in a moving vehicle. He unbuckled his own belt, followed by hers before turning fully to his girl, his eyes fixed on hers with gentle determination.

"Sweetheart, listen to me." The brunette ordered, his voice firm, but full of love. "You're safe. I'm here with you, and I'm not going anywhere."

He gently took her face in his hands, caressing the icy skin of her cheeks and leaning over the console to kiss her forehead tenderly. Each gesture was full of care and affection, an attempt to dispel the fog of anxiety that enveloped Y/N.

"You are strong, my beautiful, beautiful girl." Matt continued, his voice soft and comforting. "You'll get through this. I'm here for you no matter what."

With his loving words and gentle touches, Matt began to guide Y/N out of the abyss of her anxiety attack. He wrapped her in his protective arms, almost laying his torso on the console - ignoring the pain the hard surface provided to his skin, holding her tightly as she sobbed into his chest.

Minute by minute, Y/N's shaking lessened, her breathing becoming more regular. Finally, after what looked like an eternity, she pulled away slightly from Matt's arms, looking up at him with gratitude in her moist eyes.

"Thank you." She whispered, her voice breaking, her teeth catching her lower lip momentarily, feeling guilty for making them have to witness such a situation. "I... I'm fine now."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. So, so proud." Matt smiled at her, his eyes brimming with relief as her voice emanated calm. "I love you."

"I love you more."

As the car returned to the road, the storm inside Y/N began to dissipate. Her arms remained crossed around her own torso, trying to convey some sort of comfort to her body as she didn't receive the touch from Matt that she so desperately craved.

"I'm sorry, boys." The girl whispered a few seconds later, turning slightly back, her eyes darting from Chris to Nick and back again.

"Never apologize for situations like this, Y/N. You can't control your body, much less your emotions." Nick quickly stopped her avalanche of negative thoughts, giving her a serious but loving look.

"It's us who should apologize. I imagine something must have happened before, but either way, we're the ones who caused this." Chris looked down at the top of the car's console, scratching the back of his head with his right hand in embarrassment.

"It's okay. It was just a bad day." The girl smiled slightly at the two, her eyes still burning from the intense crying and her body sore from the strong tremors, but her heart could now rest.

Matt looked at her momentarily, smiling big and proud, his blue eyes shining with pure love. His hand, which was still on her thigh, lightly pressed the covered skin, stroking it with his thumb, before turning his gaze forward again.

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[55sturn]

✮ FEEL IT ON THE WAY HOME

pairing: matthew sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis: in which matt finds himself growing jealous of y/n's friendship with nathan, despite matt not officially being with her, however she sees his deepest worries and assures there's no one else for her.

warnings: swearing, jealous!matt, snide comments here and there from matt (basically passive aggressive!matt), relationship anxiety, angst if you squint.

THIRD PERSON POV

if anyone were to ask matt, when he fell in love with you, he'd tell you somewhere between junior and senior year. but deep down he knew that he was lying. he knows he fell in love with you the moment he met you.

the two of you met during the summer between eighth and ninth grade. it was the one and only summer he let his mom send him away to summer camp with his brothers. he decided that he'd go once, just for the memories.

and boy did he make some memories.

FLASHBACK

"matt c'mon! they're letting us have a free hour on the beach!" chris exclaimed loudly as he jumped on his brother's bed, disturbing the middle triplet who tried to peacefully nap during their free hour.

"chris go away!" matt grumbled, pulling the pillow over his head, keeping away from chris until nick came into the room, ordering matt to get up. matt obliged, but not without complaint.

the three boys made their way down to the beach. chris immediately took off toward the makeshift court where a few boys his age were playing basketball. nick took off toward alahna who attended the camp as well.

matt was about to follow nick when he spotted a girl, probably his age sitting alone at table drawing away in a sketchbook.

"hey, why are you by yourself?" matt greeted, sitting across from her, feeling the need to keep this girl company.

"i just moved to boston and my mom sent me to this stupid camp to make friends in time for school but i'm mad at her so i'm not gonna make any friends." the girl replied, not taking her eyes off her book as her pencil scribbled furiously. when she realized he wasn't leaving, she let out a dramatic sigh and looked out at the water.

"well, i'm matt!" he laughed, noticing how stubborn she was about not looking at him.

"i'm y/n." she replied, finally looking at him and felt her face grow warm, but she thought that was gross so she chalked it up to the summer air against her skin.

a week later, the girl left summer camp with four new friends, despite her penchant for being alone.

when the school year began, y/n quickly found that she was attending the same high school as the triplets. she was quick to fall into their routine, developing a close relationship with their closest friends as well. almost immediately fitting into their dynamic and group.

however, y/n got rather close with nathan almost immediately after meeting him. she opened her arms and let nate in without fighting, she felt a strong brotherly tie to him.

however matt didn't know that she only considered him a brother, his jealously stewing over time. he knew he was falling in love when he wanted to punch nate for stealing y/n from him. he knew he was falling in love when he was angry when he should've been happy when y/n found her first boyfriend.

he knew he was falling in love the moment he met her.

FLASHBACK OVER

in the two years since y/n, the triplets, alahna, and nate have graduated, matt hasn't been able to pinpoint the exact moment his relationship with y/n changed.

they went from awkward teenagers trying to navigate uncomfortable and unfamiliar feelings that brew in the pits of their stomachs every time they met their best friend's eyes, to people testing the waters of what is considered a normal friendship while cuddling, spending the night with her chest to his back and his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

they went from best friends teasing each other relentlessly over not having their first kisses only to become each other's first kisses. they kept the terribly awkward, clashing of teeth, tongue in the wrong spots type of kiss, to themselves.

however, despite their first kiss being terrible, once they graduated and the triplets moved to los angeles, y/n and matt had a tendency to share more kisses every time they convinced her to come out to los angeles or whenever the triplets flew back home to boston.

matt depended on those close, personal moments of intimacy with y/n. they made him feel like he had her in his life in a way that no one did. she was special to him, his first ever love. he didn't want to give that up. and so, he and his brothers were on their way to boston, partly because they missed home and mostly because matt needed to see her.

"so are you gonna tell her?" nick hummed, looking at matt who sat in the middle seat of their section on the plane, his eyes glued to his phone as he watched the minutes tick by, his right knee bouncing rapidly as he waited for the plane to land.

"huh? tell who? what?" matt replied, a delayed reaction to nick's question, the pounding in his chest travelled to his head, causing his reaction time to be slowed.

"he asked if you're gonna tell y/n that you've been in love with her for like ever, bozo." chris snickered, earning a swift smack to the stomach, causing chris to double over groaning slightly. okay so maybe, matt's reaction time wasn't delayed.

"shut up chris. i'm not in love with her."

"that's bullshit, and you know it." nick mumbled, earning a glare from matt who just slumped back in his seat, plugging his airpods into his ears, trying to ignore his brothers and their ridiculous teasing for the rest of the flight. the flight couldn't go by fast enough for matt, who was subconsciously biting his nails as he listened to playlist that y/n had made for him. as the boys struggled to but kept busy, the flight was soon over, all three of them rushing to grab their carry/ons and get off the plane.

as the triplets headed toward their house, they grew nervous. all their friends and family knew they were coming home and were awaiting their arrival. matt felt his nerves calm slightly when he heard y/n's laugh from the open window in the kitchen.

as he pushed through the door, he felt his heart crumble to pieces deep in his chest. seeing y/n, thrown over nate's shoulder laughing loudly as he tickled her, bright matching smiles on their faces, made his words and feelings get stuck in his throat as it ran dry.

matt scoffed slightly and rolled his eyes as y/n looked up from her place over nate's, smiling brightly and squealing slightly as nate placed her on her feet. matt ignored the bitter jealously rising up his throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek briefly.

"i missed you." y/n whispered as she pulled back slightly, the look on her face sending a stubborn, unwavering warmth through matt's chest that he tried to fight hard to fight.

"yeah, you too." matt hummed, hardly looking at her as he stared nathan down, a half-assed grin on his face while he dapped his childhood friend up. as y/n hugged nick and chris, she felt eyes staring into the back of her head. turning around, she met matt's angry stare along with nathan's blissfully unaware, cheesy and lopsided grin.

"can we go to denny's? i could so fuck up some of their waffles right now." y/n laughed, looking to matt, her eyes softening as she silently pleaded for the boy in front of her to drive the group to denny's.

"yeah lemme put my shit away and we can go." matt sighed, the hardened front he masked himself with easily cracking and crumbling down completely around his feet under the soft stare that had him weak in the knees every time he looked her way.

as he quickly shuffled his suitcase and duffel bag up the stairs to his room, he felt his mind swarm with conflicting emotions and ideas, unsure if he wanted to punch his best friend for carelessly flirting with y/n as if his feelings weren't painfully obvious or if he just wanted to settle in security, knowing that he had y/n in a way no one else did.

sighing, he returned back to the group of people waiting for him, knowing if he stayed in his room, someone would come  looking for him and he didn't have the nerve to talk about the feelings swirling beneath his ribcage.

the group piled into the van, chris, nick, and matt all in their respective spots, with nate and y/n squished beside each other, giggling amongst themselves as they talked about god knows what.

"so y/n, did you finally ask out that guy you said you were into?" nick prodded, tilting his head inquisitively as he eyed the way her and nate interacted.

"wait, did you think that guy was nate?" y/n laughed loudly, not missing the things nick said with a look.

"i mean, y'all act like a couple." nick chuckled as y/n rolled her eyes.

"yeah you do, it's fucking annoying." matt whispered to no one in particular as his eyes flicked to y/n in the backseat, however chris caught his comment and quietly giggled to himself. the rest of the drive to denny's consisted of the three in the back bickering over shit while chris watched matt stew in his jealousy from beside him, smirking to himself.

as the group piled into the restaurant, they all ordered their preferred forms of breakfast despite it being nearly two in the morning. the group giggled amongst themselves, save for matt who couldn't stop glaring at nate. y/n had picked up on and it made her feel unsettled, she couldn't pinpoint why he'd be upset.

as everyone finished paying for their food, y/n pulled matt aside, her hand on his arm as she looked up at him.

"what's goin' on up there?" she asked, her voice soft and calm, hoping it'd ease matt into talking, and help her get a sense of understanding what he was feeling.

"it's nothing, y/n." he muttered, his voice cold and slightly unsteady as he pushed her hand off his arm.

"matt, c'mon i know you better than you think i do, tell me what's bothering you. you've been acting weird since you first walked in the door. nate's noticed it and so have i."

"why don't you just go bother nate about it then? you seem to be much closer with him anyway." he snapped, rolling his eyes are the shock that fell on her face, before feeling his heart sink as her eyes held something that resembled hurt.

"that's what this is about?"

"y/n, drop it please."

"no matt, i thought it was clear that i don't see anyone else the way i see you."

"well with the way you've been acting with nate it makes me wonder what we actually are. i'm normally not the type to get jealous but jesus christ, i can't help it. you're an amazing girl, any guy would be lucky to have you as their girlfriend or whatever we are and i sometimes wonder why you're into me." matt whispered, unable to keep his feelings at bay any longer with the way she was looking at him, her head tilted, nothing but love and concern in her eyes. she made him feel safe, like he could tell her his deepest emotions and she would listen intently, providing safety for him.

"matt,-" she whispered, stepping closer to him and cupping both sides of his face, her thumbs dragging along his cheekbones as he leaned into her touch, his eyes falling shut briefly.

"there is absolutely no need to worry at all, i'm yours, okay? i-" she paused, taking a deep breath before continuing,

"i love you, matt. i've never looked at another guy the way i've looked at you. not once, and frankly i don't want to. there's no one that can understand a simple look from me the way you do. there's no one who knows me better than you, no one else who's ever taken the time to understand me and be patient with me the way you have. i am yours, and i hope that you're mine. okay?"

"okay." he whispered back, nodding softly as she leaned up, pressing her lips to his in a gentle but passionate kiss that meant they had a mutual agreement, that they were each others, and that one kiss, that one simple kiss that meant they understood each other, was more than enough for matt.

the two broke apart at the sound of giggles, turning to find the rest of the group standing behind them.

"what the fuck was that?" chris exclaimed, genuinely shocked that his brother and his best friend were kissing, and seemingly together.

"a kiss, dumbass."

"yeah but is this the first time or?"

"chris you idiot, do you not ever read between the lines? it's obvious they've been together for a while now." nick replied, his tone incredibly dull, like matt and y/n being together was the most obvious thing.

"i love you too, y/n." matt whispered as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side, and pressing a kiss the side of her head as they walked toward the van.

falling in love with your best friend is never easy, it's complicated and messy and leaves behind a lot of doubt but y/n was worth every bit of complicated, every bit of mess left behind, y/n was worth it all to matt.

and that alone, was enough to put his worries and self doubt at ease. because as long as y/n was there to reassure him that she was his, he knew they'd be okay.

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© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Second Choices

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: I hope this makes sense lol. I opened my planning doc for the next part of Triad, read the three sentences I had written there, and then closed it and went back to a random drabble in my notes app that exploded into this. So… enjoy, I guess? There will be three parts of this total, so click here to be added to the taglist to be notified when those go live!

Warnings: Angst, drinking, drug use (slightly forced, if you squint?), a little hint of smut at the end but it doesn't progress very far

“Y/N is a bitch,” Braelie whined, voice echoing out from the restroom’s open door. Mor sighed, snapped the cap back onto her signature red lip gloss, then turned towards Cassian’s female-du-jour. She was pretty, in an artificial sort of way. Her foundation, a shade too light, was caked on with a thick layer of matte powder that swallowed the light when it hit her face, leaving her skin dull and sullen. The dark eye makeup and too-bright lipstick made her look like a doll, and not the kind for children.

“Listen, Brae,” Mor hoped that using a nickname would soften the major blow she was about to land. She reached out and laid a light, comforting hand onto one bony shoulder. “Y/N and Cassian have been friends for a long time. I won’t lie to you, sometimes the lines get blurred when they’re both single. She’s probably having some complicated feelings, since you’re so pretty,” Mor rushed to add that last part when Braelin’s lower lip wobbled. Then she prayed to the Mother for your forgiveness and said, lowering her voice to a whisper, “she’s probably just jealous.”

That put a spark back into Braelie’s eyes, and Mor cringed. She added Cassian to her list of prayers as Braelie flounced away in search of him.

Cassian hovered with his hand on the doorknob, ready to duck out the side door to sneak in a quick smoke break while Braelie freshened up with Mor. 

Braelie was hot, sure, but Cauldron she was dumb. If Cassian had to hear the words, “wait, really?” one more time, he might not make it long enough to get her into his bed tonight. Just a few puffs of mirthroot would dull the edges of his brain enough to find her cluelessness endearing. 

She wasn’t the most exciting company, but she was reliable, and he needed that. He’d broken things off with Skyla three weeks earlier and knew that he was dangerously close to doing the one thing he wore he’d stop doing, so he went out one night, alone, and found Braelie. 

After overhearing Mor’s words, he felt guilt roiling deep in his gut. So he smoked half a joint and headed back inside. He danced with her and thought of you. Walked her home and thought of you. She invited him in for a drink and pressed her too-pink lips against his. 

He thought of you. 

Afterward, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and waited until her breathing slowed before sneaking out through the window. He shoved off of the sill and let his wings fully expand, catching the wind and sending him soaring into the early morning sky. 

—

You hadn’t meant for Cassian’s latest fling to overhear you calling her a “Cauldron-damned floozy,” but it had happened anyway. 

“She’s soooooo annoyingggg,” you slurred, taking another swig from the wine glass in your hand. You let your head fall back until it landed on Azriel’s shoulder. He chuckled and you felt his shadows nipping at your cheeks, lightly scolding you for being bitchy. They tickled like tiny, ice-cold kisses, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. “Seriously, Az. I dunno what Cas sees in her. She’s just another Cauldron-damned floozy, good for keeping his bed warm and not much else.” 

Mor had managed to redirect Braelie towards the restrooms after that, leaving you alone in the booth with Az, completely oblivious. 

Azriel’s shadows had alerted him to her presence, and a smirk graced his lips. He sensed some major drama brewing and relished in his position at the sidelines. 

“Why, Y/N, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you sound jealous,” he drawled. You let your head loll to the side so you could glare at him, which coaxed a bark of laughter from his lips. 

—

The first coherent thought you had the next morning was water. I need water. You dragged yourself out of bed and trudged into the bathroom, gulping mouthful after mouthful straight from the faucet. 

But water could only do so much for a hangover, so you threw a robe over your pajamas and tiptoed down the Townhouse stairs. It was nearing noon but, based on the disheveled state everyone had returned in last night, you didn’t want to risk waking anyone and incurring their hungover wrath. 

Outside the kitchen, you heard low, muffled voices and paused to listen before entering. Mother forbid you end up interrupting Cassian and Braelie’s post-coital feast. Cauldron, even her name was annoying. 

“I just don’t understand why Y/N would say something like that,” you heard Cassian say, wincing as memories from last night flooded your brain. 

“Look, Y/N’s your best friend, I’m sure she’s just feeling put out now that you’re spending so much time with Braelie,” Az said, careful to keep his tone neutral. 

“Well she doesn’t have to be such a bitch about it.” 

You turned away and snuck back up the stairs to change into real clothes, deciding that breakfast at your favorite cafe was in order. Preferably paired with a mimosa or five. 

— 

Az sighed and took a sip of tea to buy himself some time to think. He’d stayed up with Mor until sunrise, talking about their clueless friends. 

While your comments about Cassian’s love life had been funny the first few times, after more than three decades, it was getting old. They recognized a pattern repeating itself ad nauseam; Cassian gets a new girlfriend, you distance yourself from him and start grumbling about the girls’ flaws, then when Cas eventually dumped her you’d be back to being best friends like no time had passed at all. And if you both happen to be single, well, sometimes after smoking too much mirthroot you’d end up all over each other. In a friendly way, of course. 

This time, though, you’d been much more open about your hatred for Braelie despite the fact that she was one of the more tolerable ‘floozies’  they’d had to deal with over the years. She was dumb but harmless, and soon enough Cassian would tire of her, resetting the cycle once again. 

So they’d decided to divide and conquer; Mor was going to try and get it through your thick skull that you’re in love with Cas, while Az was tasked with showing the General what was right in front of him. 

Easier said than done. So he decided to go for the jugular. 

“Well, it’s not like you have the best track record with females. Maybe Y/N’s gotten tired of playing nice when you’ve got someone new on your arm every other week.”

“Last I checked that wasn’t a crime.” 

Az held his hands up, raising one eyebrow at Cas. 

“Don’t shoot the messenger. If it’s really bothering you, why don’t you talk to her? I’m sure if you asked her to lay off Braelie she would.”

Cas ducked his head to hide the heat rushing to his face and mumbled something incoherent into his chest. 

“Sorry, brother, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of my shadows laughing at your blush.”

“I broke up with her this morning,” Cas growled, tightening his grip on the mug in his fist. 

Azriel cackled, laughter only growing louder when Cas glared at him. 

“It’s not funny,” Cas insisted, launching his teaspoon over the table. Az’s shadows caught it before it could make contact, turning Cas’s glare into a downright glower.  

“Alright, alright, it’s not funny. You’re just predictable, that’s all.” 

After stewing in silence for a few minutes, Cas felt his self control crumbling. Words bubbled up from his chest, through his throat, and then he was rambling. 

“I overheard Mor telling Braelie that Y/N was jealous of her,” he pushed his chair back and started pacing back and forth across the kitchen. “And at first I thought, no way, that’s crazy, if Y/N was jealous I would know. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. She always gets weird whenever I’m dating someone, right?”

“Maybe you should talk to her about it,” Az suggested, leaning back in his seat. Just a friend offering a casual, off-the-cuff solution to a problem he knows nothing about. 

“Yeah, maybe…”

—

Mor tracked you down later that afternoon, sprawled out on a blanket next to the Sidra and halfway through a bottle of vintage red imported from the Summer Court. 

“Heyyy,” you greeted her, pushing yourself up into a sitting position and holding the bottle out towards your friend. “Come to join the pity party?” 

Mor eyed you, curiosity and amusement sparking behind her honey brown eyes, and she accepted your offering. 

“And why are we having a pity party?” she asked, plopping down next to you and taking a long pull from the bottle. 

“Cause I fuck everything up, duh.” You flopped back down, this time onto your stomach. “Cassian hates me, but whatever. I’m sure he and Braelie are going to be very happy together.”

Mor had to force her eyes not to roll at your drunken dramatics. 

“I’m gonna find a boyfriend, that way when they break up Cas can’t come crawling back to me with his dick in his hand. See how he likes it.” You made grabby hands for the bottle but Mor shook her head, keeping it held just out of your reach. 

“Or you could try telling him how you feel?” She suggested, casually, as she took another sip. 

You scoffed, hiccuping giggles following as you struggled to keep your composure as mixed emotions ebbed and flowed through your body. 

“Tell him how I feel? Should I tell him it makes my skin itch whenever he dances with another girl? Tell him that I haven’t been able to finish with anyone else since the first time he fucked me? Or maybe I should tell him that he’s my mate, good idea, Mor. Maybe that will make him fall in love with me!” 

Mor let her eyes roll this time, patting you on the back. But when you flipped onto your back, she saw the pain and longing etched into the lines on your face and stared deep into your eyes, waiting for you to laugh and say it was just a joke. 

Unease settled in her stomach. 

“Wait, you’re serious, aren’t you?” she asked. 

“He’s my Cauldron-damned mate, and he doesn’t even know it. He’s too busy burying himself in the hordes of females fawning all over him to notice how much it hurts.” 

“Y/N…how long have you known?” 

“Four years,” you whispered, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide your tears from your oldest friend.

“Oh, babe,” she sighed, tugging you up into her arms. The dam behind your eyes broke and sobs wracked your body while the gears in Mor’s brain started turning. 

When you finally settled in her lap, tears dried up, she hauled you to your feet. “C’mon, let’s get you home.” 

All you managed to mutter was, “Not the Townhouse,” before she winnowed you away.  

—

Cassian dodged Azriel’s attempts at cheering him up in favor of sulking at the kitchen table all day, waiting for you to wake up. 

When it was nearing dinner time, he sighed and put together a tray of tea and pastries to bring up to you as a peace offering. But after knocking politely on your door for five minutes straight, worry started worming its way into his stomach and he threw open the door to reveal your bed, perfectly made and empty. 

“Fuck,” he growled, throwing the tray down the hallway where it crashed against the wall, broken bits of pottery clattering to the ground. He’d wasted all day waiting for you when you were out doing Mother knows what with Mother knows who. 

Screw apologies, he was on a warpath now.  

He trekked through the busy streets of Velaris looking for any sign of you, starting at Amren’s apartment and making his way through your favorite shops and restaurants with no success. Just when he was about to give up, assuming you were holed up with a male somewhere, he saw Mor ducking into one of the small cafes near the Sidra. 

“Mor!” he shouted, jogging to catch the door before it closed behind her. She turned around, and a look of shock flashed across her face before it smoothed into cool indifference. 

“Cassian,” she said, nodding at him before turning to the hostess stand. “I’m here to pick up a takeout order for Morrigan.” 

The hostess nodded and disappeared into the kitchen to grab the food. Cas reached out and grabbed Mor’s wrist, tugging her around to face him.  

“Where is she?” he asked, barely able to contain the rage flowing through his veins. 

“Not now, Cas,” Mor sighed, wrenching her arm from his grasp. “Trust me. Just give her some space.” 

“I can’t,” he growled, siphons glowing as if they were attempting to warn her that his magic was sizzling just beneath the surface. It felt like something was pulling him along, the desire to find you growing stronger the longer he looked. “I need to find her. Please, Mor.”

The hostess came back and handed a bag to Mor, who promptly turned around and dumped it into Cas’s arms. 

“Fine, then you can take this up to the House of Wind for me. I have some errands to run, you have an hour.” Cas’s face relaxed and he nodded, about to open his mouth to thank her when she waved a hand at him to dismiss him. 

But when they were back outside, she turned around to flash a sickly sweet smile at him. 

“Oh, and Cassian?” His eyes widened as he froze in place, wings spread and ready to take off. “If you hurt her, I will feed you to Bryaxis.” 

With that, she disappeared and Cassian took to the skies wondering what would be waiting for him when he arrived. 

— 

On the back deck of the House of Wind, you stood leaning against the railing, music swirling around you as you watched the sun sink behind the buildings of Velaris below. Lights blinked on one by one until the whole city was filled with twinkling stars.

With a joint in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, your mind was finally, blissfully, numb. Only the subtle ache deep in your core served as a reminder of your unfortunate situation, but even that was starting to dull. 

Of course, your peaceful night had to be ruined by the one male you had no desire to see. The sound of flapping wings and rushing of air past your face gave you a split-second warning, and then Cassian dropped to the ground behind you. 

You turned around and held the hand with the joint lazily balanced between two fingers at your forehead. 

“General Bloodshed, or whatever the fuck,” you said, wobbling on unsteady feet as you saluted him. Then you lowered your hand and took a long drag, holding the smoke in your lungs for as long as physically possible before letting it out in a steady stream pointed in his direction. “Come to fight for your fair maiden’s honor, or just to rub it in my face that you’re getting laid and you don’t need me anymore?”

“Y/N,” he said, all the anger draining from his body as he took in the bags under your eyes and the heavy winter clothes hanging off your frame even though Summer was right around the corner. It was like he was seeing you for the first time after a long mission away, noticing how much weight you’d lost, how tired your body looked. 

He set the food down on one of the lounge chairs and took slow, careful steps towards you. 

“Y/N,” he repeated, “What’s going on?”

“Nothin’, Cassie, nothin’ at all,” you said, pausing to hiccup before continuing. “I don’t care about Braelie, I don’t care about you, I don’t care about anything.” You thrust your arms out wide and turned to face the sunset, which was now casting a golden glow onto Velaris. “I’ve got a hot date with my fingers later, and I probably won’t even think about you.”

Cas ignored the heat flaring up low in his belly at the mental image that flashed behind his eyes. 

“Hey,” he whispered, coming up next to you and prying the joint from your hand. “Gimme that.” 

You turned to face him, lower lip stuck out in a pout. 

“Why? So you can leave me here and go get high with Braelie? I bet she’s real mouthy. You like em loud, don’t you? Like when females beg for that big Illyrian cock?”

Your voice got higher and higher, becoming breathless as you rambled on, letting all of your deepest, darkest, pent-up thoughts and feelings fall from your lips. Even though you knew you’d regret it in the morning, in the moment it felt so good to let them go. 

“Y/N, stop, just take a breath. I’m not going to leave you, okay!” Cassian stubbed out the joint and tossed it aside, putting his hands on your shoulders to force you to look at him. “I’m not going to see Braelie, I broke up with her this morning.” 

Your eyes glazed over as you looked him up and down, a lazy smirk blooming on your lips. 

“Ohhhh, I see how it is,” you drawled, waving a hand to summon the joint to you. Snapping your fingers to spark it back to life, you took another deep hit and then stuffed the unlit end into Cas’s mouth. He tried to protest but you held firm until he finally inhaled. Its effects hit immediately, and you watched as his shoulders drooped, muscles relaxing. With a wicked grin, you dropped from his loosened grip to your knees, palming his dick through his leathers. “Want me to kiss it better, put your broken heart back together?” 

A war waged behind Cas’s eyes; on the one hand, the mirthroot was clouding his judgment and lust threatened to take over at the sight of you looking up at him with wide eyes.  

On the other hand, he had set out to make things right, to talk to you and figure out the true nature of your feelings for him. Sleeping with you would send the wrong message. 

“Y/N, stop,” he grunted, pulling his hips back and shoving your hand away. 

“What?” you asked, your pout back in full force. “Want me to beg for it first, cause you know I will? Know I’ll give you anything you want?” You shoved yourself up to your feet, pushing onto your tiptoes so your narrowed eyes bore right into Cassian’s. 

He felt the tension that had been building all day melt away—the anger, the frustration, the confusion—all of it was gone with a snap of golden magic that flooded his body. 

You felt it, too, from your side of the bond, could see the moment it registered behind those hazel eyes. It felt like the bond was on your side, snapping just in time to help you prove a point.

“I’m done being your second choice, mate,” you snarled, plucking the joint from his hand before turning around and stalking into the house, leaving him stranded alone in the darkness. 

[estapa-edwards]

Matt Rempe x reader and their domestic life (as fluffy as you can make it)

MORNING - M. REMPE

paring: Matt Rempe x reader

word count: 600

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The morning sun painted the bedroom walls in soft hues of gold and amber as you stirred from your slumber, feeling the warmth of Matt's arms around you. His steady breathing and the gentle rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was still asleep. You smiled softly, relishing in the peacefulness of the moment before gently extricating yourself from his embrace.

Padding quietly to the kitchen, you set about preparing breakfast, the aroma of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee filling the air. Matt emerged from the bedroom, his hair tousled and a sleepy smile gracing his lips. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Morning, love," he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep.

"Morning, sleepyhead," you replied, leaning back into his embrace as you flipped pancakes on the griddle.

Breakfast passed in a blur of laughter and stolen kisses, the two of you enjoying each other's company before the demands of the day took hold. After cleaning up the kitchen, you decided to tackle a DIY project you'd been meaning to start for weeks.

Matt proved to be surprisingly handy with a hammer and nails, his tall frame towering over you as he worked on assembling the bookshelf you'd purchased. You teased him about his newfound skills, earning a playful swat on the arm in response.

Several hours later, the bookshelf stood proudly in the corner of the living room, filled with books and mementos that held special meaning to both of you. You stepped back to admire your handiwork, a satisfied smile spreading across your face.

"Looks good, huh?" Matt said, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

"It looks perfect," you replied, leaning into his embrace. "Thank you for helping me."

"Anytime, babe," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

As the day progressed, you found yourselves engrossed in various activities, each moment becoming a cherished memory of your life together.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Matt suggested playing video games together. You chuckled at the competitive edge that always seemed to surface whenever gaming was involved. Sitting side by side on the couch, you navigated virtual worlds together, trading victories and defeats with good-natured banter. Whether you were battling side by side or facing off against each other, the laughter and camaraderie that filled the room made it a game worth playing.

After a heated round of gaming, you decided to take a break and venture into the kitchen to try out a new recipe together. Armed with an assortment of ingredients and a recipe pulled up on your phone, you embarked on a culinary adventure. Matt proved to be surprisingly adept with a chef's knife, his skilled hands slicing vegetables with ease as you worked together to create a delicious meal.

The kitchen was filled with laughter and the tantalizing aroma of spices as you chopped, stirred, and seasoned your way to culinary perfection. You stole playful kisses between stirring pots and tasting sauces, the warmth of the stove matching the warmth in your hearts as you shared this simple yet meaningful moment together.

Finally, the fruits of your labor were ready, and you set the table with care, the vibrant colors and enticing aromas of the meal a feast for the senses. Sitting down to eat, you savored each bite, relishing in the flavors and the shared experience of creating something beautiful together.

As the day drew to a close, you found yourselves curled up on the couch once more, a sense of contentment settling over you like a warm blanket. With his arm around you and your head resting on his chest, you watched the stars twinkle in the night sky outside the window, feeling grateful for the simple pleasures of life and the love that bound you together.

[zomtart]

Unknown (Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader)

Hey y’all! So one of my favorite things to do writing wise is pick one of my favorite songs, listen to it on repeat, and write a fic to it lmao. So here’s that with Matt Murdock and my favorite song of all time, Unknown/Nth by Hozier. All writing is mine but of course the italized words are lyrics from Unknown/Nth, which belongs to the one and only Hozier (and Matt Murdock and co belongs to Marvel) <3 

I’m so sorry for the ending this was not supposed to end angsty but I had a prophetic vision I had to listen to it

Warnings: religious imagery to describe love, canon typical injuries/violence, death

Word Count: 1.2k

It ain’t the being alone

It ain’t the empty home, baby

You know I’m good on my own

You know, it’s more the being unknown

Sometimes, you terrified him.

You would say something, or do something, and he felt so…seen. Naked, stripped of any mask that protected him. You would never lay a hand on him, he knew that, but it didn’t make it any less horrifying. The fact that you could reach past any suit of armor, beat him to any punch, because you knew him. Sometimes it felt like you knew him even better than he knew himself. You saw past his attempts to push people away, to act cold and be alone. He’d try, time and time again, to convince both of you that he was better off by himself. It never worked. You weren’t scared away, and you had a way of making Matt feel like he…deserved to be in the company of you. To not be some anonymous figure drifting through the city. 

It was a shitty morning. It was too cold outside, numbing the edges of his fingers and the tips of his ears. He could feel the blood rushing to his nose, his body’s futile attempts to keep him warm. He was so cold he almost missed the scent of freshly brewed coffee coming from the office.

“Morning,” you said nonchalantly, gently taking his left hand and wrapping it around what he knew was a coffee cup. He felt frozen in place, but forced his mind to blame it on the weather. He could already smell it, but he took a sip before commenting.

“Peppermint mocha?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You hummed in response, already looking over the new papers on your desk.

“How’d you know?”

You just laughed a little, taking a sip of your own drink. “We’ve gotten coffee before, Matthew. My memory isn’t that terrible.”

It wasn’t the fact that you said his full name. It was how you said it. Softly and…reverantly. He’d compare it to a prayer, but it was more holy than that.

He murmured a thanks and tried to relax. Wow, he felt like it was losing it, and for what? Because you knew his coffee order? The four of you have gotten coffee together before for company meetings. You probably remembered Karen and Foggy’s order just the same. It meant nothing.

~

You called me “angel” for the first time, my heart leapt from me

You smile now, I can see it’s pieces still stuck in your teeth

And what’s left of it, I listen to it tick

Every tedious beat

When you discovered he was Daredevil, he expected a lot of things. Confusion. Betrayal. Anger, most of all. He never expected you to…laugh.

He was exhausted. Far too exhausted to do anything but stumble into his apartment, not realizing you had snuck in to surprise him for his birthday. It was a bit past midnight and you stood in his living room with a cake, confused at his absence. You were about to call Foggy to make sure he was okay when he stumbled in with a broken nose and too many bruises to count. You shrieked and dropped the cake, rushing to grab the knife on the counter to defend yourself against…

���...Matt?” you said incredously, setting the knife down and inching forward. He was in too much pain to realize the consequences of what ensued, and he could only let it happen, limping to the couch before he collapsed on top of it. 

You set the knife down and ran to kneel in front of him. You looked him over, at all his injuries and the way his exhausted eyelids drooped downwards. 

“You stupid man…” you whispered, cradling his face upwards, drops of his blood sinking into your palm. “You…you’re…”

“Halloween costume.” he managed, and you laughed, a watery, broken, sound that echoed throughout the apartment he lived alone in. 

You shook your head. “T-the Devil doesn’t take breaks? Even on his birthday?”

“Heard someone…they needed help.”

“You’re blind.” you whispered, looking back to his sightless eyes to confirm. “How…?”

He didn’t answer, just leaned into your hand that still held onto his jaw. After a moment his nose twitched. “Did you..get me cake?”

“Yeah. Happy birthday.” you said quietly with another laugh. The sound was like a balm to his wounds. It was better than any gift he could have asked for. “How did you know?” “It’s a…a lot to explain. We’d be here all night.”

“Don’t tempt me, angel.” you winked. Then you simply got up and left to get a first aid kit, as if you hadn’t left his heart beating out of his chest. 

That night, you didn’t ask anymore questions. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was so beat up, or because you were in shock, or because of what day it was. You bandaged him up and got him to bed. When you were satisfied with the amount of blankets he had you lit a single candle and sang Happy Birthday. Your soft voice was slightly off-tune, and the melody was occasionally interrupted with little laughs by the both of you, but to him it was perfect.

It meant everything. 

~

There are some people, love, who are better unknown. 

He had learned to regret that night. In hindsight, he should have known. He should have known that letting you find out his true identity would put you at risk. He should have known he wasn’t able to protect you, wasn’t able to protect anyone who got close to him. He had put on the suit to help people, but he knew now it only made him an omen. If the Devil was near, death would ensue. 

He should have known.

He should have heard the gun reloading and your footsteps pounding to jump in front of him. He should have never let you be there in the first place. You were dead, and the beating of his fists against your murderer could do nothing to bring you back. He killed for the first time that night, and he was all too aware of the irony. The person who knew him best was gone, and if she weren’t she would not even recognize him.

[brainddeadd]

Day Five

masterlist

A cozy coffee shop bustling with life, the aroma of fresh brews and pastries filling the air. You and Matt are nestled in a corner booth, sipping on lattes.

As you sit across from Matt, your heart races with the knowledge that today’s antics are about to kick things into high gear. Day 5 of your unorthodox plan to “lose” him is here, but little does he know he’s caught up in a bet with his friends to make you fall for him in 10 days.

“Okay, Matt,” you say, leaning in slightly, your voice playful. “Today, we’re doing something different. We’re going to have a ‘deep conversation’ day.”

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Deep conversation? Like, should I prepare my thesaurus?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, it’s more about feelings. Let’s share our biggest hopes and fears. Get vulnerable, you know?”

“Vulnerable, huh?” he replies, his smirk softening. “Alright, but you go first. I want to hear your secrets.”

Taking a breath, you decide to play along with the idea of vulnerability. “Okay, here goes. My biggest fear is probably ending up alone. I’ve always wanted someone to share life with, and the thought of being on my own scares me.”

He nods, listening intently. “That’s a real fear. I think everyone feels that way at some point.”

You glance down at your latte, hiding a smile. Maybe this deep stuff isn’t so bad. “So what about you?”

Matt leans back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Honestly? I think my biggest fear is not being good enough. Whether it’s my career or in relationships, I always worry that I’ll fall short.”

You look into his eyes, noting the sincerity there. “Thanks for sharing that,” you say softly. “It’s a brave thing to admit.”

“Yeah, but let’s flip this around. What are your hopes?” he asks, leaning forward as if eager to hear more.

You decide to keep the playful banter alive. “Well, I hope to become a world-renowned expert in my field, travel the globe, and maybe—” you pause dramatically, “—not scare you away in the next five days.”

Matt laughs, clearly amused. “Good luck with that. I’m a tough nut to crack.”

“Is that a challenge?” you reply, raising an eyebrow, matching his playful tone.

“Maybe it is,” he says, leaning closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m up for it.”

Your heart skips a beat, caught off guard by the intensity in his gaze. As you both sip your drinks, a comfortable silence envelops you, each lost in thoughts about what lies ahead.

With the conversation still buzzing in your mind, you text Matt, suggesting a spontaneous night adventure. You plan to make it an unforgettable evening, hoping to throw him off while he tries to make you fall for him.

But as you eagerly await his response, you can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to enjoy his company a little too much.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

All the books I reviewed in 2023 (Graphic Novels)

Next Tuesday (December 5), I'm at Flyleaf Books in Chapel Hill, NC, with my new solarpunk novel The Lost Cause, which 350.org's Bill McKibben called "The first great YIMBY novel: perceptive, scientifically sound, and extraordinarily hopeful."

It's that time of year again, when I round up all the books I reviewed for my newsletter in the previous year. I posted 21 reviews last year, covering 31 books (there are two series in there!). I also published three books of my own last year (two novels and one nonfiction). A busy year in books!

Every year, these roundups remind me that I did actually manager to get a lot of reading done, even if the list of extremely good books that I didn't read is much longer than the list of books I did read. I read many of these books while doing physiotherapy for my chronic pain, specifically as audiobooks I listened to on my underwater MP3 player while doing my daily laps at the public pool across the street from my house.

After many years of using generic Chinese waterproof MP3s players – whose quality steadily declined over a decade – I gave up and bought a brand-name player, a Shokz Openswim. So far, I have no complaints. Thanks to reader Abbas Halai for recommending this!

https://shokz.com/products/openswim

I load up this gadget with audiobook MP3s bought from Libro.fm, a fantastic, DRM-free alternative to Audible, which is both a monopolist and a prolific wage-thief with a documented history of stealing from writers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

All right, enough with the process notes, on to the reviews!

GRAPHIC NOVELS

I. Shubiek Lubiek by Deena Mohamed

An intricate alternate history in which wishes are real, and must be refined from a kind of raw wish-stuff that has to be dug out of the earth. Naturally, this has been an important element of geopolitics and colonization, especially since the wish-stuff is concentrated in the global south, particularly Egypt, the setting for our tale. The framing device for the trilogy is the tale of three "first class" wishes: these are the most powerful wishes that civilians are allowed to use, the kind of thing you might use to cure cancer or reverse a crop-failure.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/11/your-wish/#is-my-command

II. Ducks by Kate Beaton

In 2005, Beaton was a newly minted art-school grad facing a crushing load of student debt, a debt she would never be able to manage in the crumbling, post-boom economy of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. Like so many Maritimers, she left the home that meant everything for her to travel to Alberta, where the tar sands oil boom promised unmatched riches for anyone willing to take them. Beaton's memoir describes the following four years, as she works her way into a series of oil industry jobs in isolated company towns where men outnumber women 50:1 and where whole communities marinate in a literally toxic brew of carcinogens, misogyny, economic desperation and environmental degradation. The story that follows is – naturally – wrenching, but it is also subtle and ambivalent. Beaton finds camaraderie with – and empathy for – the people she works alongside, even amidst unimaginable, grinding workplace harassment that manifests in both obvious and glancing ways.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/14/hark-an-oilpatch/#kate-beaton

III. Justice Warriors by Matt Bors

Justice Warriors is what you'd get if you put Judge Dredd in a blender with Transmetropolitan and set it to chunky. The setup: the elites of a wasted, tormented world have retreated into Bubble City, beneath a hermetically sealed zone. Within Bubble City, everything is run according to the priorities of the descendants of the most internet-poisoned freaks of the modern internet, click- and clout-chasing mushminds full of corporate-washed platitudes about self-care, diversity and equity, wrapped around come-ons for sugary drinks and dubious dropshipper crapola. It's a cop buddy-story dreamed up by Very Online, very angry creators who live in a present-day world where reality is consistently stupider than satire.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/22/libras-assemble/#the-uz

IV. Roaming by Jillian Tamaki and Mariko Tamaki

The story of three young Canadian women meeting up for a getaway to New York City. Zoe and Dani are high-school best friends who haven't seen each other since they graduated and decamped for universities in different cities. Fiona is Dani's art-school classmate, a glamorous and cantankerous artist with an affected air of sophistication. It's a dizzying, beautifully wrought three-body problem as the three protagonists struggle with resentments and love, sex and insecurity. The relationships between Zoe, Dani and Fiona careen wildly from scene to scene and even panel to panel, propelled by sly graphic cues and fantastically understated dialog.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/11/as-canadian-as/#possible-under-the-circumstances

Like I said, this has been a good year in books for me, and it included three books of my own:

I. Red Team Blues (novel, Tor Books US, Head of Zeus UK)

Martin Hench is 67 years old, single, and successful in a career stretching back to the beginnings of Silicon Valley. He lives and roams California in a very comfortable fully-furnished touring bus, The Unsalted Hash, that he bought years ago from a fading rock star. He knows his way around good food and fine drink. He likes intelligent women, and they like him back often enough. Martin is a—contain your excitement—self-employed forensic accountant, a veteran of the long guerilla war between people who want to hide money, and people who want to find it. He knows computer hardware and software alike, including the ins and outs of high-end databases and the kinds of spreadsheets that are designed to conceal rather than reveal. He’s as comfortable with social media as people a quarter his age, and he’s a world-level expert on the kind of international money-laundering and shell-company chicanery used by Fortune 500 companies, mid-divorce billionaires, and international drug gangs alike. He also knows the Valley like the back of his hand, all the secret histories of charismatic company founders and Sand Hill Road VCs. Because he was there at all the beginnings. Now he’s been roped into a job that’s more dangerous than anything he’s ever agreed to before—and it will take every ounce of his skill to get out alive.

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865847/red-team-blues

II. The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation (nonfiction, Verso)

We can – we must – dismantle the tech platforms. We must to seize the means of computation by forcing Silicon Valley to do the thing it fears most: interoperate. Interoperability will tear down the walls between technologies, allowing users to leave platforms, remix their media, and reconfigure their devices without corporate permission. Interoperability is the only route to the rapid and enduring annihilation of the platforms. The Internet Con is the disassembly manual we need to take back our internet.

https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con

III. The Lost Cause (novel, Tor Books US, Head of Zeus UK)

For young Americans a generation from now, climate change isn't controversial. It's just an overwhelming fact of life. And so are the great efforts to contain and mitigate it. Entire cities are being moved inland from the rising seas. Vast clean-energy projects are springing up everywhere. Disaster relief, the mitigation of floods and superstorms, has become a skill for which tens of millions of people are trained every year. The effort is global. It employs everyone who wants to work. Even when national politics oscillates back to right-wing leaders, the momentum is too great; these vast programs cannot be stopped in their tracks.

But there are still those Americans, mostly elderly, who cling to their red baseball caps, their grievances, their huge vehicles, their anger. To their "alternative" news sources that reassure them that their resentment is right and pure and that "climate change" is just a giant scam. And they're your grandfather, your uncle, your great-aunt. And they're not going anywhere. And they’re armed to the teeth. The Lost Cause asks: What do we do about people who cling to the belief that their own children are the enemy? When, in fact, they're often the elders that we love?

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865939/the-lost-cause

I wrote nine books during lockdown, and there's plenty more to come. The next one is The Bezzle, a followup to Red Team Blues, which comes out in February:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

While you're waiting for that one, I hope the reviews above will help you connect with some excellent books. If you want more of my reviews, here's my annual roundup from 2022:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/01/bookishness/#2022-in-review

Here's my book reviews from 2021:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/08/required-ish-reading/#bibliography

And here's my book reviews from 2020:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/08/required-reading/#recommended-reading

It's EFF's Power Up Your Donation Week: this week, donations to the Electronic Frontier Foundation are matched 1:1, meaning your money goes twice as far. I've worked with EFF for 22 years now and I have always been - and remain - a major donor, because I've seen firsthand how effective, responsible and brilliant this organization is. Please join me in helping EFF continue its work!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/01/bookmaker/#2023-in-review

[auraeseer]

. . . lasting three to ten seconds.

[waywardxrhea]

Lying to the Devil Installment list

What happens when you lie to the Devil? How long can one woman keep a lifetime of secrets from the Devil of Hell's Kitchen? The answer may surprise you...

pairing: Matt Murdock x enhanced!fem!OC

series content: coffee shop AU, fluff, humor, friends to lovers, pining, language, canon typical violence, angst, drinking, implied smut, medical emergencies, mental health disorders (PTSD, panic disorder).

After witnessing the murder of her mother, Julianne Porter finds herself running from her past and ends up in Hell's Kitchen, New York under the alias Crystal Shaw. She uses the powers she was born with in order to stop petty crime on the streets and eventually ends up working with Daredevil. During all of this, while working at her day job at Stardust Brewing Company, she ends up falling for a regular customer, the ever-handsome lawyer Matt Murdock. Join Julianne as she navigates hiding her past from her new friends and lover, her detrimental heart condition, and a life as a crime-fighting vigilante.

This is the installment list of chapters in Falling for the Devil! All chapters are written it is just a matter of editing and publishing on a weekly basis! Enjoy!

Publishing planned to start on Sunday March 3, 2024 and be updated on a weekly basis (we love the queue feature)

Introductory

Chapter 1 - Heart of Stone

Chapter 2 - Vigilante Shit

Chapter 3 - Good Grief

Chapter 4 - We Could Be

Chapter 5 - Black Butterflies and Deja Vu

Chapter 6 - Jet Black Heart

Chapter 7 - Walls

Chapter 8 - Strawberry Mentos

Chapter 9 - Panic Room

Chapter 10 - Paranoid

Chapter 11 - Face Your Demons

Chapter 12 - My Consequence

Chapter 13 - This Life is Mine

Epilogue

a/n: yes all the chapter titles are song titles that i found had the same general vibe to the chapter, i use quotes from in the chapter, or inspired context of the chapter! i will be putting links to the songs at the end of each chapter or just putting the line that inspired it at the beginning with the chapter description!

[nwbeerguide]

Firestone Walker Brewing releases the "crushable" Firestone XPA. The first in a seasonal series for 2024.

Press Release Paso Robles, CA: Firestone Walker today unveiled its first of three seasonal offerings slated for 2024—the all-new Firestone XPA, a next-generation extra pale ale brewed with Southern Hemisphere hops and California style, available now in all Firestone Walker markets. Find it with the FW Beer Finder.  “XPA is the number one craft beer style in Australia and it’s something we’re excited to champion it here in the U.S.," said Brewmaster Matt Brynildson. "The appeal of XPAs is obvious--they offer everything you love in a good pale ale at a crushable ABV. We fell in love with the style during our travels to hop farms across Australia and New Zealand and we were inspired to make our own." Firestone XPA (5% ABV) is rolling out to all Firestone Walker markets in can (12-oz six packs) and limited  draft formats for the duration of winter and through the spring season into June. An early batch of Firestone XPA earned a Bronze Medal at the 2023 Great American Beer Festival in the International Pale Ale category. Crisp, Hoppy & Crushable Firestone XPA is built around New Zealand’s Nelson hop with its grapefruit and tropical Sauvignon Blanc qualities, all backed up with a dollop of classic Mosaic hops. The resulting beer offers a trifecta of drinkability: crisp, hoppy and crushable.  Firestone XPA also taps into Firestone Walker’s roots as a heritage brewer of California pale ales.  “Creating this beer brought a lot of joy to our production team, there was definitely some pent-up enthusiasm for pale ale brewing,” Brynildson said. “We went all in to fine-tune several test batches and nail what we were after with this beer.” He added, “We wanted to lead with the punchy tropical qualities of the Nelson hop, and we found that adding just the right amount of Mosaic makes the fruit flavors all the more lush and expansive.”  “XPA is the predominant beer style in Australia for a reason,” said Firestone Walker Brand Director Hannah Barnett. “I think it has the potential to take the U.S. by storm at some point, or at the very least become a fixture in the American pale ale landscape. We’d like to be part of making that happen.” # # # Founded in 1996 by brothers-in-law Adam Firestone and David Walker, Firestone Walker is a second-generation, family-led brewery based on California’s Central Coast. Helmed by highly decorated Brewmaster Matt Brynildson, Firestone Walker's main brewery in Paso Robles produces a diverse portfolio including 805, California's #1 craft beer brand; Mind Haze, a top 5 national hazy IPA; and Cali Squeeze, one of the nation's fastest-growing beer brands. The Firestone brand family also includes iconic beers such as DBA, Union Jack, and Pivo Pils, as well as the storied Vintage Series of barrel-aged strong ales led by Parabola. As a California beer company, Firestone Walker also has two additional locations: the Barrelworks wild ale cellar in Santa Barbara County and the Propagator R&D brewhouse in Venice. Firestone Walker was recently named “Best American Brewery of the Decade” by Paste Magazine. More at 805beer.com and FirestoneWalker.com from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/433i7u3

[vanteguccir]

can you make a blurb of chris with his gf that's been feeling very down and has an anxiety attack? (if ur comfy w that)

── ୨୧ !　 a blurb where you wake up feeling bad and on the verge of an anxiety attack, but chris is there for you - as he always is

　　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

The morning light filtered softly through the gap under the door, casting a gentle glow across the floor room. Y/N lay in bed, her eyes wide open as she stared at the ceiling. The soft hum of someone - provably Matt - moving gently upstairs did nothing to calm the unease that had settled deep in her chest.

There was no reason for it, no particular trigger she could pinpoint, yet the anxiety was there, creeping into her thoughts and wrapping around her heart like a vice. Her breathing was shallow, her heart racing with a sense of dread she couldn’t quite shake. Her eyes were tired and slightly red from the little to nothing hours of sleep.

Today was supposed to be a good day. She and Chris had planned it out earlier in the week; breakfast at their favorite little café, a stroll through the city streets, maybe a bit of shopping. It was a day they both looked forward to, a chance to unwind and enjoy each other’s company. But as she lay there, tangled in the cotton sheets, the excitement that usually accompanied such plans was overshadowed by a heavy, unexplainable weight.

Chris stirred beside her, his arm draped over her waist, pulling her closer. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, anything to ground herself. But it wasn’t enough. The anxiety continued to gnaw at her, relentless and unforgiving.

"I should get up." She whispered to herself, carefully slipping out from under Chris’s arm. She moved quietly, not wanting to wake him just yet. He deserved to sleep in a little longer; he had been working so hard lately, filming a lot of different videos with his brothers and creating the new collection of Fresh Love. Maybe if she just kept moving, kept herself busy, she could push the anxiety away.

In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face, hoping it would wake her up, snap her out of this spiral. But as she looked at herself in the mirror, all she saw was the fear and tension reflected back at her. Her hands trembled as she reached for the towel to dry her face, her breath coming in short, rapid gasps. It seemed like her lungs never got full enough.

She forced herself to take a deep breath, to calm the storm brewing inside her, but it was no use. The more she tried to suppress it, the more overwhelming it became. Still, she had a day planned with Chris. She couldn’t let this ruin it. She just needed to keep it together, at least until they were out and about, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of the city. Maybe then, the anxiety would fade into the background.

She took her time in the shower, letting the warm water cascade over her in the hopes that it would soothe her. But when she stepped out, wrapping a towel around her body, her nerves were just as frayed as before.

She could hear Chris moving around in the bedroom now, probably getting dressed, and she knew she had to put on a brave face.

Y/N took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. As she stepped into the room, the cool air hit her wet skin, causing a shiver to run down her spine. Her hair dripped onto the white towel, and she kept her gaze low, not trusting herself to look at Chris just yet. She could feel the frown etched on her face, the way her chest kept moving too fast, and she prayed that he wouldn’t notice.

But Chris knew her too well. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on a pair of socks when he looked up and saw her, ready to say his first good morning in that day, but suddenly stopping. His brow furrowed immediately, concern flashing in his eyes. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched her as she moved slowly to the closet, her movements stiff and uncoordinated.

"Baby?" He called softly, but she didn’t respond, too focused on trying to steady her breathing, to keep the tears that were threatening to spill at bay.

Y/N felt the weight of Chris’s gaze as he gently turned her to face him, his hands firm yet comforting on her shoulders. Her breath hitched, and she tried to muster a reassuring smile, but Chris wasn’t having any of it.

"What’s going on, babe?" His voice was soft, filled with worry. "Hey, you’re shaking."

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. The trembling in her hands worsened as if her body was betraying her attempt to appear calm. Her breath began to quicken, each inhale growing more shallow than the last. She clenched the towel tighter around her, feeling the edges of panic creeping in.

"It’s nothing, Chris. I’m fine, really. Let’s just get ready and go." She forced out, her voice strained, refusing to look into his eyes.

But Chris’s eyes searched hers, seeing the truth behind her words. He brushed his thumb over her cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped without her realizing.

"You’re not fine." He said gently, concern deepening in his gaze. "Talk to me."

Y/N tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it only grew larger.

"I woke up feeling so anxious." She finally admitted, her voice trembling. "I don’t know why, but it’s like… it’s like there’s this weight on my chest, and I can’t breathe properly. My heart’s racing, and I can’t… I can’t make it stop."

As she spoke, the feelings she had been trying to suppress began to overwhelm her. Her chest tightened painfully, each breath now coming in rapid, uneven gasps. The room started to spin, her vision narrowing as her hands shook uncontrollably. Her legs felt like they might give out any second, the numbness creeping up from her feet, making her feel disconnected from her own body.

Chris’s eyes widened in alarm as he watched the familiar signs of an impending anxiety attack take hold of her. Without hesitation, he stepped closer, his hands moving to cradle her face, anchoring her in the present.

"Y/N, look at me." He said firmly, his voice steady but soothing. "Focus on my voice, yeah? Just focus on me."

Her eyes darted around, panic rising as the room seemed to close in on her.

"I-I can’t… I can’t breathe." She gasped, her chest burning with the effort, her hands closing into tight fists against her chest, the towel fabric brushing against her skin making her feel suffocating. It was all too much.

"Yes, you can." Chris insisted, his voice calm and reassuring. "You’re safe. I’m right here with you. Just try to match your breathing with mine, okay? In… and out. You know how to do it, yeah?"

He exaggerated his own breaths, taking slow, deep inhales and long exhales, hoping she would follow his lead. Y/N tried to mimic his breathing, but her body resisted, her lungs refusing to cooperate as her mind spiraled further into panic, shaking her head as if telling him that it wasn't working.

"It’s okay, petal." Chris continued, his thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks. "I’ve got you. You’re not alone. Just keep trying, focus on the sound of my voice. You're my smart girl, I know you can do it."

His words were a lifeline in the chaos, something tangible to cling to as her world seemed to tilt on its axis. She fixed her eyes on his ocean blue ones, trying desperately to ground herself in his presence. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she began to force her breaths to deepen, following the rhythm he set.

In... out.

In... out.

"That’s it." Chris murmured, his hands never leaving her face. "You’re doing great. Just keep going."

The numbness in her legs started to recede as her breathing began to slow, the tightness in her chest easing slightly. She focused on the warmth of Chris’s hands, the steadiness of his gaze, and the calm that radiated from him like a soothing balm.

After what felt like an eternity, her breathing finally evened out, the sharp edges of panic dulling into a manageable hum. The tears that had been threatening finally spilled over, but this time, they were tears of relief, not fear.

Chris pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him as if to shield her from any lingering remnants of the attack.

"You’re okay." He whispered into her hair, his hand rubbing slow, comforting circles on her back. "You’re safe, Y/N. I’m here."

She clung to him, her face buried in his chest, drawing strength from his presence. The remnants of the anxiety attack left her feeling drained and shaky, but Chris’s embrace was a refuge, a place where she could let go of the fear and simply be.

"I’m sorry." She mumbled into his shirt, her voice thick with exhaustion and emotion.

Chris shook his head, pulling back just enough to look at her, his expression tender.

"Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for." He said softly, brushing a few strands of hair away from her damp forehead. "I’m just glad you’re okay."

Y/N nodded, wiping at her tear-streaked cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Thank you." She whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"You don’t have to worry about that." Chris replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."

They stood there in silence for a few moments longer, the intensity of the situation gradually fading into the background as the warmth of their connection took its place. Chris kept his arms around her, his presence a solid and comforting weight that grounded her in the here and now.

When she finally felt steady enough to stand on her own, Chris gave her a reassuring smile.

"Why don’t we take it easy today?" He suggested. "We don’t have to go out if you’re not feeling up to it. We can stay in, watch movies, whatever you want."

Y/N considered his offer, the thought of staying in and cocooning herself in the safety of their home tempting. But she knew that sometimes it helped to get out, to distract herself with the world outside.

"No, I think I still want to go." She said, her voice stronger now, though still soft. "I think… I think it might help."

Chris nodded, his expression understanding.

"Okay. But if at any point you need to come back, just say the word. We’ll take it slow."

"I will." She promised, feeling a bit more like herself as she managed a small smile, grateful for his understanding. He always knew exactly what she needed, even when she didn’t know it herself. "Thank you." She whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"Always." He replied, giving her a soft kiss on her forehead before stepping back to give her space. "I’ll be right here if you need me."

As Y/N watched him move back to the bed, resuming his task of getting dressed, she felt a sense of calm beginning to replace the anxiety. It wasn’t gone completely, but with Chris there, she knew she could handle it. She took another deep breath, this one more steady, and turned back to the closet to finish getting ready.

I know, I write too much and too long, sorry yall 🙏🏻🤞🏻

I would post as a usual fic, but I feel like yall like it more when it's blurbs 😭

[roboticchibitan]

A collection of teapots, from a Gelfling friend, rate if you like, but enjoy !

Oh these are so cute! I'm gonna take this one a time and describe them all. [Image ID: First image: A bright silver kettle meant for boiling water on the stove Second Image: A clear glass teapot with a plastic handle and a tea strainer inside of it Image 3: A white teapot viewed from the side with a blue rim around the lid and a tiny ceramic teacup on the lid. There are berries and a bee painted on it and the words "A moment of quiet, a cup of tea, and friends... to keep me" the next word isn't in in legible the picture but it is probably "company." Image 4: The white bug teapot viewed from the top. The teacup on the lid is very small and there is something painted on it below the tiny teacup that I can't identify but might be napkins or maybe envelopes (sorry) Image 5: A plain navy blue teapot that is very shiny Image 6: A matte black teapot with a flat base All images have a backdrop of white towels and all the teapots are resting on a white ceramic tray End ID]

So my rating for the kettle is that I like it because it is very shiny and the handle is on the top of the kettle instead of the side, but I wouldn't use it because it's easier to brew tea that actually tastes good with an electric kettle that you can select the temperature on. With a stovetop kettle you either have to guesstimate what temp your water is at or use a thermometer and who wants to whip out the thermometer just to make a good green tea?

The glass teapot is very generic and average. Which is not a bad thing! It has a better infuser than the glass teapot I have, but I still wouldn't buy it because my glass teapot is made of borosilicate glass and can be put directly on the stovetop. Which is terrifying but I have done it when our last electric kettle kicked the bucket because I was desperate and all our pots made the tea taste like metal.

The white teapot is so whimsical and cute! I love it! I wouldn't buy it because it's not my style, but it's very domestic and I like that.

The blue teapot is a pleasing navy color and it's nice and round and the glaze is nice and shiny. Not really much more to say about it. It's kinda boring. But would make an excellent teapot and it looks like one of those teapots that would be really well insulated. A very utliitarian teapot.

The black teapot is nice. It looks like something you could buy in a coffee shop here. Very modern. I would worry about the large flat bottom burning the finish off my table, though. So I would probably put it on a hot pad if I was using it. Just out of caution. I do this with my favorite teapot, too, because it's a large flat base and the base entire base sits directly on the surface you set it down on. That teapot HAS ruined the finish on a table before, much to my annoyance and distress. But at least it was my little table and not the big table that doesn't belong to me and cost a lot of money.

Send me weird teapots!

[alohdark]

Fluffuary 19th

I definitely have drifted away from true 'fluff' but it's not angst so I could that as a win.

Anway, Enjoy

Frank woke with a stifled groan. Old injuries like dull knives digging into him. He breathed slowly through his nose and gathered the necessary willpower to get out of bed. He knew as soon as he moved the pain would sharpen before dulling again into his daily levels. He grunted as he pushed back the covers and swung his legs out and over the edge of the bed. The pain intensified as he straightened up and stood before rolling back into the dull ache he had learned to ignore. Mornings always were the hardest.

He padded barefoot across the room and to the bathroom. He quickly performed his morning rituals and gradually felt more like a human being and not a mass of sizzling lightening pain. The scent of coffee drew him to the kitchen where Matt was preparing breakfast for them.

Frank grumbled something that could have been a ‘good morning’ as he kissed Matt’s shoulder and grabbed the coffee pot. He poured a cup and cradled the mug between hands that were no longer as callused as they once had been. Softening up and growing more sensitive to the feel of the mug he held. The warmth lulled his sleepy brain to a greater state of wakefullness that the caffeine would bring to the forefront. He moaned softly as he took a sip of the rich brew.

Matt huffed a laugh and asked “Should I leave you two of you alone?”

Frank took a few steps over to Matt and kissed him again soundly on the cheek this time. “Mornin’ love.” He said intelligibly.

“Morning Frank.” Matt answered.

He grabbed the bowls of fruit off the counter and brought them over to the table already set for two. Next he brought over toast and jam. Frank grabbed the butter with one hand and both of their coffee mugs with the other. They settled at the kitchen table for their light breakfast. Everything was fresh and perfectly ripe. Matt’s extraordinary senses letting him pick fruit with unerring aptitude.

When breakfast was over, they washed dishes together; Frank washing and Matt drying. It was quiet and domestic in a way that Frank thought he’d never have again. The peace of it settled into his aching bones and healed some of the hurt. His frequently broken bones still felt the weather but he’d take an asprin soon and those would take the rest of the edge off. All he needed was Matt at his side and his ache would be soothed beyond what he deserved. It had taken then years of hardwork and bloody fighting to get to this point and Frank wasn’t going to let the best thing in his life go.

Matt bumped lighting into his shoulder and Frank drew himself out of his thoughts, turning the water off.

“You’re quieter than usual this morning.” Matt said. “Everything okay?”

Frank sighed. “Just feeling my age today is all.” He answered honestly.

Matt grabbed a towel and dried Frank’s hands for him before pulling those hands until they rested on his waist. Matt raised his own hands and wrapped his arms around Frank’s shoulders. He held Frank tight but not painfully so. “I can call out. Nothing is happening that Foggy can’t handle alone. We could have a day to ourselves. To feel young again.” Frank leaned forward and stole those lips into a kiss. It was languid, unhurried, but full of affection. Frank would like nothing more than to spend the day ignoring their day-to-day lives. He knew he should protest but his bones ached and he was feeling selfish.

“Make the call.” He whispered into Matt’s ear.

Matt’s grin was beatific. More so than a simple request should have made him. But Frank wasn’t complaining that now he’d get to spend the day with a happy Matt. Definitely made waking up in pain worth it, to have everything soothed by having Matt by his side.

After the call was made, they settled back into the couch and just enjoyed each others company. Matt a living warm weighted blanket calming blanket draped over Frank’s side. Yes he hurt, but it was nothing compared to the love he felt for the man in his arms.

Frank kissed Matt’s temple and whispered “Love you.”

Matt just snuggled further into his side.